The Clock Flower

by Barbara Casey

  Now, Larry asked for her help again, hoping through her contacts she might be able to get the information he needed. As soon as Larry told her it had to do with Mackenzie, one of the FIGs, she was eager to help. As Mother and Papa Granchelli now considered Carolina and the FIGs part of their family, that made them part of hers as well.

  Larry read through the documents a second time, this time more carefully, to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He had felt there must be some connection, and now he had the proof. The Clock Flower Project, Lyuba’s warnings that Mackenzie was in danger, and the visions of a fire-eating dragon—with this information Lucia had sent to him, it was starting to make sense. He immediately tried to call Carolina to warn her, but she didn’t answer. After trying a second time with no results, he called his friend, Grai.

  “You’re too late, Larry. Carolina and the FIGs have already left and are en route to China.” Grai knew Larry well enough to realize it was something serious. “What can I do to help?”

  Larry quickly explained why it was urgent that he get in touch with Carolina and then said, “I can catch the 10 o’clock flight out of Raleigh-Durham to LaGuardia this morning and get an international flight from there. I need to go to China—I need to be with them.”

  “I know someone who can help with the overseas travel arrangements,” offered Grai. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  Larry taped a hastily-written note on the front of his office door:

  ANCIENT CHINESE PHILOSOPHY CLASS

  CANCELED

  UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

  Then he rushed to his apartment to pack a bag. On his way there Grai called to tell him he had gotten reservations for the two of them, departing LaGuardia that evening and arriving at Jinan Yaoqiang Airport the next day. “That is the closest airport to Puli where Carolina and the FIGs will be staying,” Grai explained. He would meet Larry at the baggage pick-up when he got in from Raleigh-Durham.

  Within the hour, Larry was sitting in a plane on his way to New York. He called Grai to let him know the time he would arrive and what gate. “You don’t have to go, you know.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Grai said. “If anything happens to Carolina or one of the FIGs, Mrs. Killebrew will have my hide.” Then, more seriously, “I think you might need some help.”

  As the son of a Gypsy King, Larry knew he was right. There was something evil about what was happening, and Mackenzie was right in the middle of it. And because they were Carolina and the FIGs, the others were in danger as well. “I was offering a mini course on ancient Chinese philosophy during winter break. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  As soon as he finished talking to Grai, Larry immediately tried Carolina’s number again but with no success. She wasn’t the best at remembering to keep her phone charged, so it was either dead or she simply had it turned off.

  Chapter Twenty

  Even though Ling had told Mackenzie what she and the FIGs and Carolina could expect once they arrived at the Jinan Yaoqiang Airport, they weren’t even close to being prepared and there simply weren’t enough words to describe it.

  “Well, Ling said it was one of the busiest airports in China,” Mackenzie yelled, trying to make the others hear her as they pushed their way through the throngs of chattering people; everyone seemed to be moving in a different direction.

  “I didn’t know it would look so modern,” said Jennifer pointing to the dramatic architectural element of the enormous walls of glass.”

  “Or that there would be so many signs in English,” added Dara as they followed the large black arrows pointing to customs.

  Carolina simply nodded, knowing she wouldn’t be heard, and struggled to keep up.

  Ling had instructed Mackenzie to wait at customs, and that someone would be there to help them. Through all of the dizzying noise and chaos, Mackenzie heard someone say her name: “Miss Yarborough?” That someone was Li Lee, Senator Yi’s attaché, a well-dressed, soft-spoken man, small in stature, extremely polite, and totally efficient; and he had somehow found them. “He will take care of everything,” Ling had said, which is what he did when he showed his credentials to authorities, allowing him to collect their luggage and escort the young women through the madness and confusion of customs, without any delay, to the car outside.

  The fact that they had been on a plane for fourteen hours was quickly forgotten in their excitement of what lay ahead as soon as they left the airport and headed out of the city into the green, mountainous countryside. In a couple of hours, they arrived at the zhuang yuan—the family estate—where Ling came outside to greet her guests.

  “Huān yíng—welcome to my home,” she said smiling as she hugged each one in turn. “I feel as though I already know you,” she said to Dara and Jennifer. When she hugged Carolina, she said, “I am so happy you came.” Then more pointedly, “We have much to talk about.” Li Lee quietly moved between the car and the beautiful home with their various bags while Ling pointed out some of the special and unusual plants that were growing on the property and other things of interest—the koi pond, the meditation garden, and the ruins from one of the earliest Christian churches ever built in China dating back before the seventh century. At the far end of another garden was a square-based pagoda, “It was built in 640 during the Tang Dynasty,” she told them, adding, “It is the perfect place for afternoon tea.”

  Putting her arm around Mackenzie, she ushered them up the stone steps carved with the images of dragons and through the open double doors into the foyer where she introduced them to an older woman named Su Wing. “Su Wing’s son is a scientist at Yellow Sea Laboratories,” Ling explained. “Her family has worked with my family and on the estate for generations. In fact, it was Su Wing’s grandfather who made the dandelion pin Mackenzie is wearing symbolizing immortality.” Su Wing, expressionless, bowed politely and then showed them to their rooms.

  Each of the guests had her own room with a private bath in the sprawling, single-storied home, and all were located near one another in one wing of many other wings—like spokes in a wheel—opening onto a brick-paved courtyard with a fountain in the center. After they had a chance to unpack and freshen up from the trip, they would be served tea in the solarium where they would be able to see the Senator’s orchid collection, Su Wing explained in broken English.

  “I thought we’d be sleeping on bamboo mats,” said Dara when she saw how Americanized the furnishings were. Mackenzie giggled, and Jennifer flipped her ponytail and flopped on the bed to test it. As Carolina and the three FIGs quickly unpacked, Su Wing, quietly and efficiently moved back and forth between the rooms, hanging clothes in the closets, tucking folded clothes neatly into the drawers of chests and dressers, and arranging toiletries in the bathrooms. The last thing Carolina did was check her phone which she had forgotten to charge the night before. It showed she had three messages from Larry. She pulled out her charger and its international adaptor and plugged in her phone. She would listen to the messages later and try to call him, once she figured out what the time difference was.

  * * *

  The crystal had glowed blood red during the night, after Lyuba’s scrying. She heard the ancient music as Jennifer created it, and smelled the sweetness of the single blue lotus and the unusual scent of the yellow and red flowers that the gypsies knew as milk witch—called dragon’s milk in other ancient cultures—and deadly if misused. She saw Dara holding written symbols—scripture—in her hands that were as old as the creation of man and heard her speaking in a dialect that was from before the time of the old Romany. And she saw her precious daughter Carolina trying to protect Mackenzie, to save her from the yellow dragon, as Mackenzie fought for her life. She had no time to waste because Lyuba was a choovihni, and she knew that Carolina and the FIGs were already approaching the lair of the dragon in a far-off, distant land.

  As the clouds gathered ominously high overhead and concealed the pale crescent moon, in the darkness just before daybreak she hurried down the well-worn pebbled path towa
rd the village below. She would find the bakery where Lucia’s relative worked and ask for help. For reassurance, she reached deep into the pocket of her skirt to feel the piece of paper with the important telephone numbers printed on it. She would first try to reach Carolina. If she couldn’t, then she would call Larry’s number. If that failed, she would keep trying each number that Lucia had written down for her until she got ahold of someone who would be able to give Carolina her urgent message: That the yellow dragon was evil; that it saw Mackenzie as a threat; and it wanted to kill Mackenzie.

  Chapter Twenty One

  In spite of their long flight, Carolina and the FIGs felt rested and were surprisingly energetic the next morning when they went to the dining room for breakfast. “It must have been that tea we had yesterday afternoon,” said Dara feeling the excitement of what the day would bring. A buffet had been prepared, and Ling was already sitting at the table drinking coffee and reading over some papers. She smiled and stood to greet her guests when she noticed that Carolina and the FIGs had come into the room and immediately put the papers in the briefcase on the floor next to her. “I thought we would go to the village of Dawenkou first this morning to see the dig site and give Dara a chance to meet the archeologists who are doing research there. I have already contacted Dr. Wu to let him know you have arrived, and he will be expecting us. Dara, he wanted me to tell you he is very much looking forward to seeing you again and to meeting your friends.”

  “Thank you, Ling,” Dara said, then glanced at Mackenzie and Jennifer with one eyebrow cocked. This was a woman who was used to getting things done. She was glad the Senator had anticipated they wouldn’t want to delay getting started.

  “Then, Dr. Wu has invited all of us for lunch,” she continued, “and afterwards we will go to Yellow Sea Laboratories where Mackenzie can meet the scientists and researchers working there.” As she had done when they first arrived, Ling put her arm around Mackenzie and smiled at her. And when she did, Carolina once again heard the whispered warning from her mother. Be careful, my daughter. Danger is near.

  “I am looking forward to it,” said Mackenzie, lightly touching the dandelion pin Ling had given her when they first met. The delicate scent of lotus engulfed her, giving her the feeling of contentment and well-being. Of feeling loved. She would wait until later to share her exciting news with Ling regarding the red dandelion.

  “At least this will be an introduction into what you can expect while you are here,” Ling continued. “You will want to work out your own schedules and coordinate them, of course, but whatever you need, I am at your disposal, as is Su Wing, and Li Lee will drive you wherever you need to go.” Again she smiled at Mackenzie. “And, of course, you must save some time so I can show you some of the sightseeing treasures here in Puli and elsewhere while you are here.” She addressed her next remark to Carolina. “There is one place in particular that might interest you, Carolina, as well as your girls. There is a small group of people who live in the Shaanxi and Gansu provinces of the northwest region of China. They have their own language and can be traced back as far as the Yuan Dynasty (1271-1368). The Chinese name for them is Luoli.”

  “That means gypsy,” said Dara.

  “That’s right.” Ling nodded in agreement. “Scholars believe that they arrived on China soil some 200 years before moving into Europe. So if you would like, we can plan a day trip to visit that area while you are here. Su Wing can pack a picnic basket for us to take. I think all of you would enjoy seeing more of the countryside.”

  “How interesting.” Carolina looked at the FIGs who were all nodding in agreement. “Thank you, Ling, we would enjoy that very much.” Ling had obviously given a great deal of thought to what would give the most enjoyment to her guests while they were visiting.

  Dara and Mackenzie couldn’t have been happier or more eager, and after they finished eating, they immediately went outside to where Li Lee was waiting by the car. Carolina quickly followed, not wanting to let Mackenzie out of her sight. Only Jennifer held back, her eyes closed as she listened intently to the ancient silk-stringed instrument that was softly playing—but only for a moment. Then she, too, joined the others.

  * * *

  Lyuba easily found Rosarrio’s Bakery on a side street near several other shops and close to the center of town. Just before daybreak, as she always did, Alessandra arrived to start preparing her pans and dough for the baking she would do on that day and was startled when Lyuba stepped out of the darkened doorway to greet her. She showed Alessandra the paper she had with all of the telephone numbers. “Lucia said you could help me, please.”

  Lucia had told her cousin enough for Alessandra to understand the seriousness of what this gypsy needed, and she was determined that nothing would prevent her from reaching someone on Lyuba’s list no matter how long it took. Alessandra didn’t understand the gypsy culture and their way of life, but she certainly respected it. And if this particular gypsy—Lyuba—needed her help, she would give it to her, even if it meant not getting any baking done that day.

  The two women went inside where Alessandra first fixed each of them coffee and a pastry. Then she got down to the matter at hand, beginning with the first number on the list—Carolina’s. When there was no answer, she dialed Larry’s number, also with no success. By the time she got to the last phone number of the list, without contacting anyone, she suddenly realized that in all of her excitement to reach someone she had forgotten about the time difference. Two more cups of coffee and two pastries later, she once again started dialing, beginning with Carolina.

  When she got to the number for Mrs. Ball at Wood Rose, it just so happened that Mrs. Ball had gotten to her office extra early, before the headmaster arrived at his usual time of 8 a.m., in order to have a private chitchat with Miss Alcott, at Miss Alcott’s request, who got up every morning at four o’clock without fail. Miss Alcott, never one for mincing words or lacking in opinions, negative or otherwise, had been relieved to see Headmaster Harcourt finally start to come out of his depression since returning from New York after attending Jennifer’s magnificent performance of The Wish Rider. BUT, he still was neglecting things—her request for fresh pink roses placed in the Waterford crystal vase under her portrait in the chapel each Saturday being one of them. Her early-morning visit with Mrs. Ball, like so many others the two women had enjoyed over the years, was to determine if she thought Thurgood needed professional help, an analyst perhaps or some other type of medical person, who could help him through his deep brown funk.

  Just as the two women were comfortably settling down on the rich green brocade sofa in the headmaster’s office with a fresh hot cup of tea, the phone rang on Mrs. Ball’s desk. “Who on earth would be calling this early?” Mrs. Ball remarked as she carefully set her cup down on its saucer and got up to answer the phone. The voice on the other end sounded vaguely familiar but difficult to understand because of her heavy accent, which was made even worse by someone talking excitedly in the background in another language—Italian, Mrs. Ball thought. Then she remembered. There was another time when it had been urgent that Lyuba reach Carolina and the FIGs. Mrs. Ball had helped her then, even though it was strictly forbidden and totally against school policy to give out information regarding any of the orphans. It was the only time Headmaster Harcourt had gotten upset with her in all the years she had worked at Wood Rose. Like then, she didn’t care now. “Lyuba, I know I have some information somewhere in my files about where they are staying in China. Hold on and I will find it for you.”

  With Miss Alcott, niece of the founding father of Wood Rose, member of the board of directors, and well familiar with school policy, sitting right there within earshot, Mrs. Ball could only hope she would understand and agree with her. Besides, the FIGs had already graduated and could no longer be considered student-residents at Wood Rose, although, technically, she still wasn’t supposed to give out any information about them. Of course, Carolina was still employed there, but giving someone information abo
ut her whereabouts wasn’t the same thing—not really.

  She quickly explained to Miss Alcott what she knew—that Lyuba was Carolina’s gypsy mother, she was in Italy, and it was urgent that she reach Carolina—she apparently had been having “visions.” Miss Alcott immediately started tearing through the files Mrs. Ball had pulled out to search, looking for the critical information this gypsy woman needed. Between the two determined women, they located an address and phone number of the Hawaiian Senator Xing-Ling Yi in Puli, China, and Mrs. Ball quickly gave that information to Lyuba.

  It was some time later that Headmaster Harcourt arrived to find two pleased, slightly-flushed women sitting on the green brocade sofa in his office sipping tea, and grinning from ear to ear over what they had done. The original purpose of their early-morning meeting had long been lost and forgotten in the excitement of the moment.

  Meanwhile, Mrs. Killebrew had stayed up all night fretting, unable to sleep for worrying about what Grai told her before leaving to meet Larry at the airport. Carolina and the FIGs were in trouble, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Before, when they came to New York to search for Dara’s mother and had gotten into trouble, she had been able to provide useful information to Larry about the old train car deep beneath Grand Central Terminal. Very few even knew about the old train car, but as a native New Yorker, she had remembered it. She had actually been able to help him identify where he could find Carolina and the FIGs. But this time, with them being so far away in China—a country she knew absolutely nothing about, she just didn’t know how she might help. It made her feel old and useless—and worried. Just then her phone rang. When she answered, she heard a woman’s voice—foreign sounding—“This is Lyuba. I am Carolina’s mother. I need to reach her. Can you help me?”