by Karen Jones
Copyright
Copyright © 2011 by Karen Jones
Illustrations copyright © 2011 by Karen Jones
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.
Published in the United States by Karen Jones
KarenJones.us
First eBook Edition: June 2011
ISBN: 9781617927072
CAMEL LOT
by Karen Jones
Contents
Chapter One: Outside
Chapter Two: The Garden
Chapter Three: Guests
Chapter Four: The Swing
Chapter Five: The Prank
Chapter Six: Amends
Chapter One
Outside
“Go outside and play,” protested Mom. Amid grumblings beneath their breath and outright sighs made louder for the purpose of offering opinion, the children did indeed go outside.
“What now?” asked Arty, the oldest, and sure to mention it when choosing a game was in question. At nine-years-old, he ran the house, making sure his younger siblings, Lance and Gwen, always towed the line. He didn’t know what tow the line meant, but he’d heard it from his father and thought it sounded especially important and filled with leadership-quality.
“I know! I know!” shouted Gwen, and from her excitement you could tell princesses would be involved. A girl of five-years-old, Gwen only had room for ponies and princesses in her life. Nothing else really mattered. She imagined herself a princess every day and would adorn her long, silky hair with makeshift crowns from whatever was handy.
Being seven and a true middle child, Lance was reluctant to play anything with his sister. Although he admired Arty and obeyed his every word, he thought his sister babyish and whiny. She always got Mom’s attention and used that gift to full advantage. “Whatever it is, Gwen, I ain’t interested,” he snorted.
Arty could see Gwen’s bright face crumple at the rejection and suggested, “Let’s hear her out, Lance.”
“We can play in Mamma’s garden,” she whispered in a conspiratorial way. When allowed into the garden, they were always with Mom or Dad and walked like young ladies and gentlemen. Those times were merely for the showing off of the roses or discussion of new plantings for the upcoming season. Playing was not allowed.
“We can’t play in the garden!” shouted Lance, relishing the task since it put whiny Gwen in her place.
“Now wait a minute,” began Arty, grabbing control of the situation. He placed a thumb and finger to each side of his chin and adopted the stern, thinking expression he’d seen on his father often enough. “I think that’s a grand idea.”
As Lance’s chin dropped open and Gwen began to hop and clap her hands, Arty continued in his most mature voice, “We must have rules. There can’t be any chance of getting caught or making a mess.”
Full of glee, Gwen announces, “Arty for king! Arty for king! Will you be king, Arty?” Arty accepts this heavy responsibility, of course.
The children glance at the back door of their home as if to see their mother standing there already aware of their plans. Seeing no one, they sprint across the backyard toward the forbidden garden gate. The summer sun is bounced back to the trio’s squinting eyes by the bright white paint their father applied to the gate last fall. The golden brass latch is hot to the touch. They hesitate, taking one last look behind them, then unlatch the gate and slip quietly through into another world.
Chapter Two
The Garden
The three rebels stand there gazing at their first unaccompanied look into the garden, their mother’s garden. The spring on the gate brings it slowly closed and the click of the latch as it settles home makes Arty, Lance and Gwen jump slightly. They giggle at their own nervousness.
“Enough!” Arty commands, jumping into his role as king. Gwen curtsies and Lance, taking the hint that play has begun, takes a deep bow to his king. “Let us enter my kingdom, uh, my kingdom…” Arty trails off, unable to decide what to call his magnificent land.
“Camel Lot!” announces Gwen. She’d heard the fairytale on television during a puppet program. She remembered the name because she thought it funny to name a kingdom after camels. Everybody knows kings and queens ride horses, not camels.
King Arty begins again, “Let us enter my grand kingdom, Camel Lot.”
As the children walk deeper inside the garden, Gwen gathers clovers to tie together for her crown. Arty surveys the best place for his castle. Lance spies fallen branches and takes them up as swords, handing one to the king.
The center of the garden boasts a large, circular stone patio with a fountain towering nearly two feet over Arty’s head. The fountain itself is an angel holding a heavenly pitcher spilling forth no water since their Dad couldn’t repair the pump. So she stood there failing to fulfill her purpose with a lake of water resting like glass at her feet. Stone benches held up by cherubim were strategically placed in a circle around the fountain to provide seating for visitors admiring their mother’s handiwork. And her work had been bountiful. The rose bushes were abundant and, in summer’s full bloom, their fragrance was overpowering.
Gwen rushes forward and curtsies to her king, “Welcome home my leech.”
“That’s liege, you ninny,” teased Lance. His interest in castles and armies gave him a definite advantage over his silly sister who only had eyes for princesses. This game might be fun after all. “I’ll be your best knight,” Lance announced to King Arty. “I’ll fight your wars, defend your lands and save fair maidens from horrible creatures.”
“What horbible creatures?” Gwen asked with wide eyes and a hushed tone as if being quieter would keep the horrible creatures at bay.
“Why, dragons and ogres and gargoyles and…”
“Stop scaring her, Lance,” Arty demanded. “Princess Gwen, do not worry of such things. Be assured that your magical unicorn can out fly any creature.”
“A unicorn,” cooed Gwen, “how wonderful. Can it be pink?”
Chapter Three
Guests
A rustling in the rose bush behind made them each swivel slowly to see the cause. They stood frozen, not in fear, but curiosity, because the fence around the garden kept out all the usual suspects. What could have gotten in but a bird? And no bird would be on the ground moving inside a rose bush.
Their eyes widened as the leaves continued to sway. A few blush pink petals fell from overripe blooms. Slowly an orange tabby appeared. “It’s just Marlin,” they sighed in unison. When the family found him as a kitten, it was Gwen who convinced their parents to allow him to live with them. It was also Gwen who caused him to be named Marlin instead of Marmalade, a more proper name for an orange cat. Gwen couldn’t pronounce Marmalade. So Marlin came to be part of the family and had grown to his full bird-hunting size that summer. He could now manage entry to the garden over the fence that had once kept him out.
The fence consisted of a brick base, two feet high and one foot deep, which served as a planter for annual flowers. In the center of this planter, a scalloped wooden privacy fence grew to make the entire thing five fe
et at the highest point and providing quite a bit of secrecy to the garden. The wooden portion was painted white to match the gate.
“Can Marlin play too?” asked Gwen. Marlin was quickly accepted into the game and dubbed the dragon protector of Camel Lot. Every kingdom worth it’s salt (another phrase made popular, if not explained, by Dad) had a dragon protector.
Arty and Lance began to map out the castle around the fountain. “This will be the throne room,” declared Arty about the stone bench with the reddest rosebushes planted behind it. Gwen set about gathering rose petals to adorn the throne of her king when she discovered a fallen branch in the fountain floating peacefully atop the water. She reached out to grab the branch, thinking it a better sword than the crooked one Lance had given him on their walk toward Camel Lot from the gate. The branch was too far from the side of the fountain. The stones cut into her ribs as she stretched across the pool wall as far as she could.
Upon seeing her reflection in the water of the fountain, Gwen tilted her head and said, “Oh please, beautiful maid, help me reach the magical sword for my king.” A breeze rustled the trees and shrubs of the garden and created ripples in the surface of the water. The gentle ripples carried the branch within Gwen’s grasp. “Oh, thank you water maid,” Gwen told her own image.
Full of pleasure at her find, Gwen skipped to the throne room and asked to approach the king. “You may enter, Princess Gwen,” Arty said in answer to her request.
“I’ve come bearing a gift. The maid in the lake gave me this magical sword to give to you,” Gwen told him, pointing toward the fountain.
“Wait! Let me see that,” demanded Lance, laying his own sword against a bush and taking Gwen’s gift before she had the chance to hand it to Arty.
“What say you, good knight?” Arty asked.
“Goodnight?” asked Gwen in confusion. “It’s not even lunchtime.”
“He means knight, as in a warrior of the kingdom. And good, as in better than you,” sneered Lance at his little sister.
Arty was getting fed up with Lance’s treatment of Gwen and said, “Lance, how am I supposed to treat you like a good knight when you don’t act like one?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, and handed Arty the sword, adding, “This sword is indeed magical. The fair Princess Gwen has brought you a mighty gift.”
Gwen beamed with pleasure at his words. Arty was impressed at her ability to forgive her brother so easily and so often. Many a game was spoiled over Lance’s constant verbal jabs at his sister. Arty spent most of his time juggling the ever-present struggle between his younger siblings. If he wasn’t defending Gwen from Lance making her cry, he was soothing Lance’s temper from Gwen taxing his patience. It was a tiring job, but there seemed no way to seek unemployment.
Unbeknownst to the three merry inhabitants of Camel Lot, a new presence was entering in at the gate of the kingdom. Dwayne lived next door in a green house with white shutters. Unlike Arty, Lance and Gwen, Dwayne’s parents both worked and he often slipped away from his daydreaming babysitter and wandered into the garden alone to entertain himself. He knew he was trespassing but believed if he left the garden always as he found it, and returned before his sitter finished her book, he would never get caught.
Chapter Four
The Swing
Dwayne’s favorite spot inside the garden was the swing. It hung from a large oak tree, one of the few trees left in the garden that didn’t produce blooms. Thick sun-bleached rope hung down from a massive limb and was secured through two holes in a board by large knots. The board served as the seat of the swing and even though the white paint was chipped, it was smooth and never offered splinters. Dwayne traveled unseen to the right of the fountain behind a row of softly blooming Dogwood trees to reach the swing. He didn’t hear the other children who by now were completely caught up in choosing a stone bench to be the round table.
“But it isn’t round.” protested Gwen.
“I know that, but we’ll have to pretend it’s round. Can you do that, Gwen?” asked Arty.
“I s’pose.” she replied while Lance rolled his eyes at her lack of imagination on the shape of a rock. She certainly found it easy enough to pretend there was a pink magical unicorn standing right beside her, lazily petting it by waving her hand slowly back and forth in the air.
“Would you rather call it the oval table, Gwen?” asked Arty.
“Why do you ask her, Arty?” wailed Lance, losing his patience at last. “She obviously doesn’t get it. Just tell her what to do!”
While Arty worked to bring Lance back to calm, Gwen allowed plump tears to crawl down her face. Little did they know that the commotion was catching the attention of another garden invader.
Dwayne came to an abrupt halt on the swing at the first sound of voices. I’ll get caught for sure, he thought. Concentrating in the direction it was coming from, he realized it was the neighbor kids. It’s just Arty and Lance. I wonder if their mamma knows they’re in her garden.
When Arty and Lance had moved in two years previously, Dwayne had taken an instant dislike to them. He told himself it was because they were snobs. Their parents had a fine house and beautiful gardens even though their mother didn’t appear to work. On any given day you might see the children outdoors with her playing tag in the yard. It rubbed Dwayne the wrong way. They must be snobs. Absolutely had to be. So no matter how many times the boys had waved to him when they saw him outside, he’d only made a face and looked away.
Now he had a chance to get them in trouble. He was quite pleased to think of the guilt on their faces when he caught them. It never occurred to him that he was guilty as well. Smiling to himself, he used his legs to build momentum in the swing before he popped out of it and landed like a predator on the balls of his feet.
Chapter Five
The Prank
After watching her brothers snap at each other for a few seconds, Gwen quietly backed away and around the rose bushes. The swing would bring her comfort for her mistreatment. As she ambled toward the Dogwoods wiping her tears on her sleeve, she wondered if her unicorn could push her on the swing to make it go higher. As she rounded the large pink Dogwood at the end of the row, Marlin ran across her path and startled her. Stupid cat, she thought to herself.
Dwayne had been the reason Marlin was running. He often teased Marlin and the clever tabby usually avoided him if possible. As Dwayne watched him run away, he spotted Gwen. The sniveling little sister. What fun.
Once Gwen was perched on the edge of the swing, she used her tippy toes (the only part of her that could reach) to push herself back. The swing made very little effort to please its rider and Gwen didn’t even receive enough of a breeze to fully dry her cheeks.
“Would you push me, Magical Unicorn?” pleaded Gwen.
Suddenly the swing lurched forward and arced high into the air. Gwen gasped and clutched tightly to the ropes on each side. At the full height of her ascent, the swing snapped slightly and swung back down revealing Dwayne running off into the shrubs. She closed her eyes and waited through the pendulum of movement, one, two, three, four. Finally, the swing began to slow and Gwen could open her eyes and reach out her toes to bring the swing to a halt.
Her first emotion was one of relief. Relief that she hadn’t fallen. Then her cheeks burned with anger. That Dwayne is so mean. She resolved to go tattle on him to her brothers. She knew tattling was wrong, but since she wasn’t telling on her brothers, she thought they wouldn’t mind. Slipping down from the seat of the swing, she grabbed her pink unicorn’s lead rope and set off for the fountain.
Arty and Lance had finally settled their dispute with a prideful, “You know I’m right!” and an argumentative, “So!” when they realized Gwen wasn’t right there beside them. They both turned complete circles looking in all directions. They looked at each other in confusion just as she stomped out of the rose bushes with indignant justification for tattling on neighbor-boy Dwayne.
Upon hearing their sister’s story, the br
others were indeed angry and vengeful just as she had hoped they’d be.
“Can you believe the nerve of that guy? What’s he doing coming over here and getting in Mamma’s garden?” questioned Arty to no one in particular. “Then tromping about shoving and pushing people!”
“He’s no right treating Gwen that way,” announced Lance. “She’s younger and could have been hurt. He didn’t even stay nearby in case she fell.”
Gwen’s heart swelled with devotion and admiration for her brothers. She was especially proud of Lance’s defense of her. He’d never before acted as if he cared what happened to her. He’d never before acted like he might worry over her the way an older brother should.
Dwayne was aware of all that was said since he was just on the other side of the rose bushes. He’d circled around the fountain while Gwen was waiting for the swing to slow its unruly arc. He found a nice hiding place to watch the boys and plot. He wanted to surprise them, catching them in the act of playing in the garden. He wanted to blackmail them. For what, he didn’t know. He wasn’t even particularly sure what blackmail was, but he knew from television it was only attempted by very clever people.
Chapter Six
Amends
A horrible growl and hissing drew the attention of Arty, Lance and Gwen to Dwayne’s location. Marlin had snuck up beside him and was now giving him “what for” as his dad would say. Dwayne desperately shooed at him but without success. It was too late. He’d been seen.
“Say, who’s there?!” yelled Arty. “Dwayne?”
“Come out of there!” demanded Lance, as he marched toward him prepared to haul him out by his arm.
Dwayne jumped up from his hiding spot, “I caught you! You’re gonna be in such big trouble. You’re not allowed in this garden with out your mommy.” The name of their mother was said with such a sneer that Lance’s anger boiled over.
