Spiderweb for Two - A Melendy Maze (21 page)

In school, it was hard for the children to keep their minds on study; through the open windows came such warm gusts of air, such smells of flowers and new-cut grass, such summer sounds of bee and bird and lawn mower and airplane purring in the depthless sky! But of all the absentminded children in school that day Randy Melendy and her young brother Oliver were the worst.

“Dreaming again,” said Miss Kipkin severely to Randy. “The subject we are discussing, dear, is the Holy Roman Empire, not the
Roman
Empire. There's a difference.”

“There are not, and never have been, and never
will
be three l's on the end of the word shall!” said Miss McMorrow severely to Oliver.

But at last, at last, the ordeal was over! They were set free at three o'clock, and flew to their bicycles without a backward glance.

They sped through the village waving at friends, shouting greetings, but never pausing for an instant. Soon the little town lay behind them and they were winging their way along Route 22.

“I never expected to have my heart start beating double time at the sight of Herman Heidt's repulsive cows, did you?” said Randy.

Oliver considered. “I don't think my heart's beating any oftener than it usually does,” he said. “I sure feel interested though!”

“Just think, Oliver, the end! The
end
of months of search and toil! I'm almost scared.”

“Why, I thought it was more like fun than toil. And I don't feel scared, either. I feel good.”

“Oh, Oliver you're so
normal,
” objected Randy. “You're so normal that you're unique.”

“Watch it, you almost missed the turn!” cried Oliver, and they scooped to the right and found themselves on a country road with wild hedges flanking it. Beyond the hedges lay the broad, peaceful landscape: softly colored fields, woods, distant hills. Swallows dipped through the air, and many white and yellow butterflies sailed upon it.

“There's a name on a mailbox, but all it says is Peltmayer. Would you call Peltmayer a Northern name?” said Oliver.

“Well, I don't
think
so,” said Randy. “And it hasn't been a mile yet.” After a moment or two she added, “I
hope
it isn't Peltmayer.”

A little farther on there were woods edging the road, and they went coasting through a green tunnel. At the end of it, under an enormous sycamore tree, they saw a sign with blue letters.

“Villa Borealis!” Randy read aloud.

“That means Northern!” Oliver cried. “I remember from my star book: Corona Borealis means Northern crown, Aurora Borealis means Northern lights! Villa Borealis must mean Northern villa!”

“Elementary, my dear Watson,” agreed Randy, in a voice that trembled slightly with excitement; for now they were pedaling along a winding drive and soon, at any instant, they would see their goal!

“I don't remember that there was any house here before, do you?” she said.

“Maybe it's a new one,” said Oliver. “The road looks pretty new and kind of rough still, doesn't it?”

“Yes. But whose can it possibly be?”

Presently, rounding a bend, they came out into an open space, and then they saw that Oliver's deduction was correct. There, among birch trees, stood a brand-new house: new in every way, including style, for it was a modern house, low-lying yet spacious, warm in color, almost golden. It seemed to belong to the land on which it stood far more than houses usually do.

“This isn't what I expected at all!” said Randy half indignantly. “I imagined something kind of fairy-taleish and old-fashioned, I guess: a cottage rather like Miss Bishop's, with shutters and vines and a doormat saying ‘Welcome.'”

“I saw it sort of like a castle,” Oliver admitted.

“There's not a soul in sight,” said Randy. “It looks deserted. Now don't you feel just a little bit scared?”

“I don't, but my stomach does,” said Oliver.

Hesitantly they crossed a terrace to the door. At their left they saw, beyond a great glass panel, an empty room; a lovely room, with soft colors, and a wonderful fireplace, and bowls of flowering branches.

“That Chinese screen looks familiar,” whispered Randy. “Haven't we seen one like it somewhere?”

“Maybe they make them all the same,” said Oliver ignorantly. “Hurry up and ring the bell.”

Randy rang it, and they stood there waiting. Their hearts were in their mouths. Nobody crossed the room beyond the glass panel, but somewhere else within the house they heard footsteps approaching. And was there a voice saying “Sh-h”? And was there a smothered giggle? Were they imagining things? Though he was a big boy, Oliver suddenly put his hand in Randy's.

The footsteps came closer. The door opened. Mrs. Oliphant opened it.

They stood rooted to the spot.

Mrs. Oliphant smiled at them demurely. “Welcome,” she said. “Welcome to my new house, children, and won't you please come in?”

“But what—but how—I don't
understand,
Mrs. Oliphant,” cried Randy. “Why didn't we know?”

“Because I wanted to surprise you,” she said. “Come in, come in, and see how nice and new it smells! When you get to be as old as I am, you're apt to long for something new: a new viewpoint, a new idea! This house has both.… One carries so much age in oneself that it's all one needs of oldness; except old friends, of course. And if one has
young
old friends, so much the better,” she added, patting their shoulders.

“This is the nicest thing I could have hoped for!” said Randy fervently.

“Brother, you can say that again!” Oliver agreed elegantly.

“And what a beautiful perfect house!” cried Randy. “Will you live in it all year round?”

“All year round,” said Mrs. Oliphant. “I have had all I want of cities. I want a big piece of sky over my head for the rest of my life. In summertime I want to be kept awake by crickets instead of by taxi horns!”

“And we can come and see you all the time, and have meals here and things,” said Oliver happily.

“Every day, if you wish,” said Mrs. Oliphant.

Randy and Oliver were so full of delight and questions, and Mrs. Oliphant was so full of delight and explanations that it took some time to explore the lovely little house. The living room was as charming inside as it had looked from out of doors, and so were the other two rooms, each one of which, as Mrs. Oliphant had said, smelled radiantly new.

“The kitchen is my joy,” she told them. “You just press a button or two and bells ring, lights flash on, and presto! An entire meal is cooked!”

The kitchen was Oliver's joy, too. He was particularly drawn to the electric dishwasher and a special device in the sink drain which had the distinction of being able to chew and swallow garbage. He foresaw many happy hours feeding the garbage-chewer and trying out the other gadgets, and was only reluctantly pried away now.

“But you must see my garden. Or at least what will be my garden someday,” Mrs. Oliphant said. She led them through an open door at the back of the house out into the dazzling sunshine. “I have something better than flowers in it now!”

On the terrace three people were standing in a row: Mona and Rush and Mark!

Randy and Oliver could not believe their eyes; but hugs are easier to believe, and in less than a second they were being violently hugged, and hugging back!

“But how?” cried Randy. “I thought your schools got out at different times?”

“Within three days of each other,” Mona said. “And Father fixed it so we could all surprise you together.”

They saw now that Father was there, too, sitting on a low stone wall, beaming at them. Even the dogs were there, barking and jumping, sharing in the glorious excitement.

“Did
Father
know about the search?” asked Oliver.

“Of course; we all did,” said Rush. “We all worked together, because we thought the winter might be tough for you with us away. Mrs. Oliphant and Father wrote the poems (it was Mrs. Oliphant's handwriting, by the way), and Mark and Mona and I thought up a lot of the places.”

“Some places!” said Oliver, as he remembered the pokeweed forest; the capsule on Isaac's collar; the terrible Mr. Frederick.

“Did Cuffy and Willy know, too?” demanded Randy.

“Not till today. We couldn't tell them. They're so soft-hearted; we were afraid that if they saw you were discouraged they'd give you hints—”

“And we wanted to be sure you
worked,
” said Mona virtuously.

“We were smarter than you thought we'd be,” boasted Oliver. “We found the Kwan Yin clue long before Christmas, when you planned for us to find it; before Thanksgiving, even!”

“Yes, and at that it wasn't on the Kwan Yin; by mistake it had been put in one of Father's books,” said Randy.

“No! It had? How come?” Mona and Rush and Mark were startled, and Oliver and Randy explained, and after that all the adventures which had accompanied the search must be described. The voices rang out, laughed, interrupted, argued, in the good old Melendy way, and Mrs. Oliphant and Father listened and enjoyed.

“
Who
thought of Mr. Titus's alarm-clock bell?”

“Oh, Rush, of course, who else?”

“I
knew
it was Rush!” squealed Randy.

“What about the lichen in the graveyard?” said Oliver.

“Mark did that one,” said Mona. “And the oriole's nest, too. He did all the sort of natural-history ones. Rush thought of Isaac's collar capsule, and I thought up the piano and the Kwan Yin.”

“I thought up the ice cube,” said Father unexpectedly; rather boastfully, too. “And the climbing boot, too. I thought you'd
never
find it. I had to go into all that long routine about looking for my other boots before you guessed it.”

“
I
thought they'd never find the one on the surrey,” said Rush. “Gosh, I had to
throw
it at Randy or they'd be looking for it still!”

“But on the whole you did remarkably well,” Father told them. “We were sure we'd have to drop many more extra hints than we did.”

“
We
thought we were superb,” said Randy modestly. “Now who did the Tom Sawyer clue? Rush, I bet!”

“No, that was Father again,” said Mona. “He thought of it when he was reading the book to you early in the winter, and we planned it at Christmastime.”

“Mrs. Oliphant was responsible for the kaleidoscope and the furnace,” Father said. “We all shared in it pretty equally, as you can see.”

“Well, it was marvelous! It was perfect!” said Randy.

“Brother, you can say that again!” said Oliver.

“And now we are going to have a party,” announced Mrs. Oliphant. “Here come Cuffy and Willy to help me get things ready.”

“We'll all help,” Randy volunteered, and Oliver said he would be glad to take charge of any garbage disposal that might be required.

It really was a party! As evening came on the cars began to arrive; and who should get out of them but all the people the Melendys liked best: Mr. Titus, Mr. and Mrs. Wheelwright, the Addisons, the Cottons, Miss Bishop, Billy Anton, Mr. Coughing, and many others. After a wonderful huge picnic on the lawn (Mr. Titus arrived with seven pies and Mrs. Wheelwright with five dozen jelly doughnuts), everyone lay and gasped for a while and then played games in the fragrant summer dusk.

When it was really dark they went into the house and Rush played dance music on Mrs. Oliphant's piano and everybody danced. Everybody: Cuffy with Mr. Titus, Mrs. Oliphant with Father, Miss Bishop with Mr. Coughing, Mona with Willy Sloper. Oliver could not bring himself to dance with a girl, so he danced with Isaac, who did not enjoy it.

Randy, alone, twirled and pirouetted through the open door and out onto Mrs. Oliphant's new lawn. The house with its glass panels was like a lighted lantern, festive and glowing. Music came from it and the babble of people enjoying themselves. What a lovely party! What a perfect night! Randy foresaw a long happy summer with constant journeyings to and fro between the new Villa Borealis and the old Four-Story Mistake.

“Randy?” It was Father calling her; she ran across the dewy grass to meet him.

“We're going to do a reel, and we need you,” he said.

Randy slipped her arm through his. “This certainly was the ‘rare reward' that the clue promised us,” she said. “This day and night of wonderful surprises.”

In the house two long lines of people were forming for the dance. Rush was skipping over the bars of “Turkey in the Straw.”

“Be my partner, Randy, will you?” begged Oliver, anxiously. “I don't think Isaac could do the Virginia Reel.”

“I certainly will!” said Randy warmly. “As partners you and I make a terrific team! Don't you think so?”

Oliver shoved his fat, tough-feeling little hand in hers as the music began in earnest.

“I think we do pretty good,” he said.

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