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Authors: Philippa Dowding

BOOK: Carter and the Curious Maze
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Chapter 16

Here Is the End

T
he
forest fell silent, the fountain was gone, and the huge tree that was once Mr. Green stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the other trees.

Carter, Clarissa, and Arthur looked at each other.

What just happened?

Clarissa spoke first. “Thank you, Carter. You saved us. I've been waiting for someone to toss me the old man's garden shears for ages!”

“What do you mean, ‘waiting for someone?' Who? Who have you been waiting for?”

“You don't think you're the only person to get caught in the curious maze, do you? Mr. Green has chosen many bored children for the maze over the years. But most of them just tell Mr. Green what he wants to hear. That they were
scared
. That the maze is
interesting
. That there's nothing
dull
about it. And then they return to their own time like nothing happened.”

“Well, why are
you
still here?”

Clarissa shrugged. “I don't get scared that easily, I guess. I just couldn't lie and tell him I was scared. So I've been stuck in this maze for a long time. But as you just saw, there is more than one way out of a maze.”

“There are two ways?”

Clarissa pointed at the old man's red-handled garden shears, lying on the forest floor where the fountain was a moment before. “The garden shears were the key to the magic of the maze. One way out of the maze was to tell Mr. Green you're scared. The other way out was to hide his magic garden shears, even for a moment. But I could never get close to them, the old man guarded them so well. You must have noticed that. I knew the maze would end if I could hide them in the fountain even for a second, but I didn't know he'd turn into a tree if he got pushed in. That was a stroke of luck.”

The children all looked at the tree that was once Mr. Green and quickly looked away.

“Well … why haven't I seen the maze before? I come to the fair every year.”

Clarissa put her head on one side and smiled a little. “You ask a lot of questions. The maze is an ancient and magical creation. It never stays in one place for long. Or one time.”

Carter was going to ask what she meant, but something was happening to Clarissa. She was shimmering and slowly, slowly, she faded away. For a second, he saw her standing in front of the curious maze on a sunny summer day … and a man and woman called her name. Her parents? She ran over to them, and then the image vanished. The last thing Carter saw was the smile on her face.

Then the little hand he held let go. Arthur was fading, too! Slowly the little boy shimmered and faded, just like Clarissa. As he vanished, he locked eyes with Carter and raised his pudgy hand in goodbye.

Then Carter heard a woman's voice say, “There you are, Arthur! You've lost your cap!”

And a little voice answered, “Mummy!”

“See you, Arthur!” Carter whispered to the dark, empty forest.

At that moment the sun vanished, and Carter was left completely alone. The forest fell into blackness.

His heart started to pound, and his mouth went dry. He walked over to the garden shears and picked them up. They were warm and heavy, and he could almost feel the old man's hand upon them, which instantly made him want to put them down. He leaned them against the bottom of the tree that was Mr. Green.

“Mr. Green! If you can hear me … now it's my turn! I want to go home, too!” he called.

The forest grew darker … and small rustlings began to fill the air. He tried to stay calm.

THINK, CARTER!

What was he supposed to do? He thought about entering the maze (how long ago that seemed!), about meeting Arthur, Clarissa, and the wounded soldier, how the Native boy saved him, about his sister calling him again and again. He thought about all of it. He'd seen what scary was, he knew now that the haunted house
was
for kids. But there was nothing wrong with that, since little kids need haunted houses to get them ready for bigger, scarier things. There were still plenty of strange surprises out there to amaze and delight a person. More than he could possibly imagine.

“Mr. Green?” he called quietly.

A single leaf fluttered down from the tree that was once Mr. Green. It landed gently at Carter's feet. He stooped and picked it up.

“Mr. Green? If you're listening, the curious maze was definitely the most interesting thing that's ever happened to me.” It suddenly struck him that despite the terror, the fear, the strangeness of it all, it
had
been the most exciting day of his life.

Another leaf fluttered down and landed at his feet. He cleared his throat and raised his voice a little.

“But Clarissa, Arthur, and I got to the end of the maze, you said so yourself. You also said we could leave when we got to the end, unless you intend to cheat. They've both gone back to their own time. And now I'd just really like to go home, too.” A few more leaves fluttered down at his feet.

“I don't think what you did was right, but the truth is … I
was
scared. I still am. But I was more than just that. I've had to be brave, and smart, and curious, too. And I couldn't give up, even though I really wanted to. The maze
was
the best ride at the fair, the best ride I could imagine. Ever.”

It was true, all of it.

Then with a tiny click, a door opened at the bottom of the tree that was Mr. Green. A warm light shone from behind the door, the kind of light that made Carter think of sunshine and a summer day.

He walked across the dark forest, stepped through the door …

… and stood at the opening of a very familiar, leafy pathway.

Carter was back at the beginning of his strange afternoon. Just like that, he had found his way out of the curious maze.

Chapter 17

That Which Is Most Curious

C
arter
stood at the entrance to the curious maze in the exact spot where he stood earlier that day, before the whole crazy afternoon began. The sun was a little lower in the sky, maybe, but apart from that, nothing had changed from the moment he entered the maze.

Moments before? Hours before? A lifetime ago?

Huge roller coasters whizzed over his head, their giant wheels squealing. People shrieked as they whipped by, children ate ice cream (in cones!), cars drove past, airplanes zoomed overhead. Carter wanted to hug everyone he saw, wanted to spin in circles laughing, but he didn't.

I'm back!

“CARTER! CARTER!” a voice called. It was Sydney! She waved. “Over here!”

He ran to his sister. Then for the first time since he was seven years old, he gave her a huge hug. He could honestly say that he'd never been so happy to see her, or her amazingly weird red squid hat.

“What? What the heck's wrong with you? Are you okay?” she asked, surprised. Carter was glad that she hugged him back, though, just a little.

“I … I'm not sure,” he said. “Probably not, no, not really.” Sydney ignored him and pointed at the “Welcome to the Curious Maze” signpost.

“I think that's false advertising: the most interesting ride you'll ever take? Hardly.”

Carter didn't know whether he should laugh or scream. Was she kidding? He looked at his sister, still feeling strange and dizzy, but she didn't seem to be joking with him.

“Sydney, I've been gone for hours in that maze. Haven't you missed me?”

“What do you mean? ‘Gone for hours?' And why would I miss you? I've been right here, calling you. You were only gone a few minutes. What's wrong with you? You don't look too well.” She looked at him, a little concerned. Carter shook his head. He couldn't quite grasp what was happening.

“Um, did you go into the maze, too?” he asked, a little breathless.

Sydney looked at him very closely. “I went in, walked to the exit, then came out. You took a little longer but came out a few minutes later. Are you okay, little brother? Do you have sunstroke or something?”

Carter felt faint. What was going on?

“Did you see Mr. Green, too?”

“Mr. Green? Who's that? I don't know what you're talking about, Carter.” She spoke very slowly and clearly like she would to a small child who didn't quite understand what was being said. “You and I went for a walk over to the maze for a few minutes, and then I got through the maze first, and you followed a few minutes later. I called you a few times, then there you were. Why would I worry about you in a maze for ten minutes?”

“You … you've been standing here the whole time? You didn't miss me?” he asked.

“Yes, Carter, I've been standing here the whole time. And no I didn't miss you. There was no time to miss you. Geesh, now I know you have sunstroke.” Sydney had clearly had enough of the conversation and took one last look at the curious maze sign. “Hardly the most interesting ride ever,” she muttered. “It's almost four o'clock. Let's go find Mom. Maybe take you to the hospital and get your brain checked,” she teased. Then she walked away.

Carter gulped. Okay. So it was all a hallucination? A bizarre, terrifying dream? A trick of the light?

No! Arthur, Clarissa, the freak show, the grand magazine explosion, the bear, the old French fort. Mr. Green. It was REAL. He was THERE. Time passed differently in the maze. Maybe what took an afternoon for him just took a few minutes for Sydney, but it still happened.

Carter's head was spinning. He was glad to be back … but nothing made sense.

He ran to catch up with his sister, and they headed toward the parking lot to find their mother.

The late afternoon sun shone on the midway, lighting up the huge roller coasters and Ferris wheels in the distance. People sat on picnic benches eating an early dinner, or ice cream. In cones.

Maybe it was all a dream?

Carter took a deep breath and tried to calm down. It was okay. Whatever had happened to him that afternoon, he was back, he was safe. It had been a strange adventure, but he found his way out of the maze. It was over.

He didn't look back. Then he did, just once … and did a double-take.

Carter gasped. Then he tried not to scream.

A tiny figure in a green smock stood beside a tree and waved at him.

The figure clutched a pair of red-handled garden shears!

Carter didn't
want
to see, didn't
want
to hear, didn't
want
to know. But he knew all the same. There was no denying what he just saw. Or what he knew was coming next.

Just below the screams of the midway, there it was, the sound he'd never forget for as long as he lived …

SNIP!

SNIP!

Then, as Carter watched in horror, Mr. Green and the curious maze disappeared in a whirlwind of dust, off to startle and astound children in another fairground, in some other far-away place and long-ago time.

 

This Part Is (Also) Mostly True

W
elcome
to the end of the story, and if you've made it this far, congratulations. I told you at the beginning that it was scary and more than a little strange, yet here you are. I'm sure you'll never look at a leafy garden maze the same way ever again.

You've no doubt got many questions at this point. You're probably wondering what happened next, and you might also be thinking … is this story true?

Well, some parts of it are absolutely true. Still, if you remember on the very first pages of this book, you read these words: Truth is an odd thing. One person's truth can be another person's lie. That's the most important thing to remember about this story: sometimes things that seem like lies are actually true. And sometimes, you never can tell.

Truth can be sneaky, although that shouldn't stop anyone from seeking it. So without further ado, here are some definite truths …

… freak shows were a regular feature of fairs in the past, battles from long ago did occur in many strange and unlikely places, and Native families traded with Europeans a long time before there were cities.

But I suspect what you really want to know is far less factual, and much more strange. No doubt you want to know if there really was an Arthur, a Creepy Leaf Girl, a wounded soldier, and a young Native boy wandering around a curious, leafy maze?

Was Carter really there in all those time periods, hearing and seeing all the things that had happened in that same spot over hundreds of years?

Well, time travel is a tricky business. Who knows the journeys others take in their spare time on a sunny summer afternoon? I can tell you this, though: I, for one, would give a good deal to visit a fair in my city over one hundred years ago, or to spend an afternoon among the traders and Native families of a very old and little-known French trading post. The battleground I could skip, quite frankly, since I have little stomach for such things.

You only need to read a good book on the subject at hand to decide what's real and what's not, or dare I say, even feel as though you'd been transported there yourself for a while.

And finally … what about Mr. Green? Did he use the magic garden shears that Carter so kindly propped against him to turn back into himself? Let's just say that the maze is a kind of game, after all, and a very ancient one at that. It could have magic at its roots somewhere, and someone has to trim it and care for it. If the maze-keeper chose children who were bored with the usual ideas of fun to teach them what interesting really means, that just adds to the curious nature of his story, doesn't it?

I CAN tell you that every once in a while, a peculiar story will pop up about a strange maze-keeper and a vanishing maze. And every once in very long while, the story may include a rattled child spouting an odd tale about time travel, a small man in a green smock and magical garden shears. As for the truth? The only way to know for sure is to look for an inviting leafy green pathway the next time you're at the fair … and consider taking a journey of your own.

Now you know the story of Carter and the curious maze. Despite his experience that day, Carter grew up to have a pretty normal life. He was an expert historian, by the way, and taught history classes at the local university, specializing in early European and Native trade.

There were only two things a little strange about Carter.

One: he never (EVER) went anywhere near a fairground or midway ever again. The sight of an old-fashioned carousel could send him into a frenzy.

Two: Garden shears were strictly forbidden. Even large scissors would upset him. But worse than that, sometimes in the middle of the night he would sit bolt upright in bed and call out to his family: “Do you hear someone TRIMMING THE HEDGE?”

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