by Karen Frost
Chapter Four
The Fox’s Tale
“Mr. Brumby, I think it’s best we go,” Jack said abruptly, standing and casting a significant look at Mary Jane.
Outside, the sun was sinking lower in the sky and the shadows were lengthening on the forest floor. The rays of light that crept into the windows painted the wooden floor gold. Maude pouted at her brother, her pink lower lip pushing out stubbornly.
Her dark eyes were large as saucers as she pleaded, “Oh please, Jack, can’t we stay just a little longer?”
“Maybe we can come back tomorrow, Maude," Mary Jane told her sister gently. "It will be Saturday, so we can stay the whole day if you want. But we had better get back before Mrs. Peters notices that we’ve been gone.”
Turning to Jack, she said, “Jack, how will we find our way back to the right tree? When Mr. Bushy was leading us here I didn’t pay attention to the way."
“Oh!” Mr. Brumby exclaimed. “That will not be a problem. I can find the trail. I am a fox, you know. If you would be so good as to but follow me, please.”
He set down his teacup and walked the door. Opening it, he dropped to all four paws and stepped out, the children filing out after him silently. As they stood watching, the fox put his nose to the ground and began sniffing, circling in front of the door once, then twice before he found their trail. Then with the children following behind him, he trotted along quickly through the forest, his mouth open and his tongue lolling to the side like an absurd dog. Maude giggled at him. He no longer looked like the scholarly creature who lived in a quaint house and ate tea biscuits.
They reached the tree that would take them back home in what felt like much less time than it had taken them to go from the tree to the spot where they found Mr. Bushy and then to Mr. Brumby's house. They arrived just in time, for the sun was just starting to fall beneath the horizon and Jack thought he saw the first star twinkling through the dusk. Mr. Brumby stopped sniffling the trail and stood on his hind legs.
He shook the hand of each of the three children in turn, saying, “Take care, young humans. I hope we shall meet again soon.”
"I'm sure we will," Mary Jane replied.
"Can we come back tomorrow?" Maude asked.
"If you like, little one," the fox replied.
When standing on his back feet, he was just slightly taller than Maude, although much skinnier, and he reached out a paw tentatively and patted her on the head.
"Ready?" Jack asked his sisters.
"Ready," Mary Jane agreed.
Jack took a breath and stepped through the tree. He was followed by Maude, then Mary Jane. They tumbled back through the mirror and landed on the other side with a loud thump in a pile of arms and legs on the floor of the attic.
Mary Jane whispered from somewhere within the pile, “You don't suppose we’re too late? Will Mrs. Peters have called the police already to say we're missing?”
Jack pushed Mary Jane's arm off his leg, but before he could answer, they heard Mrs. Peters call from downstairs, “Children! Come down now and have your dinner. I’ve boiled some cabbage and potatoes for you.”
“I hate cabbage,” Maude said with a frown.
“It will be alright, Maude, she’ll be gone soon,” Jack reassured her, ruffling her hair with his hand affectionately.
Maude batted him away and crossed her arms miserably. Her hair looked rumpled and she had smudges of dirt along the hem of her dress from walking through the forest. Jack guessed that he looked little better and hoped that Mrs. Peters wouldn't notice.
"Come on, let's go," he urged his sisters.
The children tumbled down the stairs to the dining room and arranged themselves at the table just in time for Mrs. Peters to come sweeping into the room balancing a pot of potatoes in one hand and a bowl of cabbage in the other. She did not notice that their bare feet, tucked under their chairs, were covered in brown dirt. She set the food down on the table and began scooping globs of limp gray cabbage onto their plates. When she caught sight of dirt under Maude's nails, however, she paused. Jack froze.
“Have you washed?” Mrs. Peters demanded.
The children shook their heads and she ordered them off to the kitchen to wash their hands. She had already begun to eat when they returned, stuffing large forkfuls of potato into her mouth and chewing with her mouth open. The children poked at their food halfheartedly, pushing bits of cabbage and potato from one side of their plates to the other.
Mary Jane said at last, with a casualness that surprised even herself, “Mrs. Peters, tomorrow we want to go to the zoo. We won’t be any bother; we’ll just slip out in the morning and be back before dinner. We’ll even pack ourselves a lunch to take with us.”
“You’re too young to go alone,” Mrs. Peters said, her mouth full of limp cabbage bits. “And what’s more, I’ve got chores for each of you that will more than likely take the whole day.”
“Oh, we’ll do them after dinner,” Mary Jane promised, trying to sound sincere and eager. “And we’re not too young. We’ve done it loads of times before, haven’t we, Maude? Maude so likes to look at the animals, don’t you, Maude?”
Maude nodded, her hair flopping into her eyes. She pushed it back behind her ears. Mrs. Peters eyed the children suspiciously, then sighed and wiped at the corner of her mouth with her napkin.
She said, “Very well then, but you be back before dinner or there will be consequences for you. Now, Maude, be a dear and rub my feet.”
