by Brandon Mull
Lena rooted out a weed. It’s a warm rain. I like being
out in the weather. She stuffed the weed into a bulging
garbage bag.
You’re going to catch a cold.
I don’t often take ill. She paused to stare up at the
clouds. It won’t last much longer.
Kendra tilted her umbrella back and gazed heavenward.
Leaden skies in all directions. You think?
Wait and see. The rain will pass within the hour.
Your knees are all muddy.
You think I’ve lost my marbles. The diminutive
woman stood up and spread her arms wide, tilting her head
back. Do you ever look up at the rain, Kendra? It feels like
the sky is falling.
Kendra tilted the umbrella back again. Millions of raindrops
rushed toward her, some pelting her face and making
her blink. Or like you’re soaring up to the clouds, she
said.
I suppose I should get you inside before my unusual
habits rub off.
No, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Back under the protection
of the umbrella, Kendra wiped droplets from her
forehead. I guess you don’t want the umbrella.
That would defeat the purpose. I’ll be in shortly.
Kendra returned to the house. She stole glances at
Lena through a window. It was just so peculiar, she couldn’t
resist spying. Sometimes Lena was working. Sometimes she
was smelling a blossom or stroking its petals. And the rain
kept falling.
* * *
Kendra was sitting on her bed, reading poems by Shel
Silverstein, when the room suddenly brightened. The sun
was out.
Lena had been right about the rain. It had relented
about forty minutes after her prediction. The housekeeper
had come inside, changed out of her wet clothes, and made
sandwiches.
Across the room, the painting of the knight charging
the dragon was complete. Seth had gone outside an hour
ago. Kendra was in a lazy mood.
Just as Kendra returned her attention to the latest
poem, Seth burst into the room, breathing hard. He wore
only socks on his feet. His clothes were streaked with mud.
You have to come see what I found in the woods.
Another witch?
No. Way cooler.
A hobo camp?
I’m not going to say; you have to come see.
Does it involve hermits or lunatics?
No people, he said.
How far from the yard?
Not far.
We could get in trouble. Besides, it’s muddy out.
Grandpa is hiding a beautiful park in the woods, Seth
blurted.
What? asked Kendra.
You have to come see it. Put on galoshes or something.
Kendra closed the book.
The sunlight came and went, depending on the shifting
clouds. A soft breeze ruffled the foliage. The woods
smelled mulchy. Scrambling over a damp, rotting log,
Kendra shrieked when she saw a glistening white frog.
Seth turned around. Awesome.
Try disgusting.
I’ve never seen a white frog, said Seth. He tried to
grab it, but the frog took an enormous leap as he
approached. Whoa! That thing flew!
He checked the underbrush where the frog had landed,
but found nothing.
Hurry up, Kendra said, glancing back the way they
had come. The house was no longer in sight. She could not
shake the sick, nervous feeling in her stomach.
Unlike her little brother, Kendra was not a natural rule
breaker. She was in all the accelerated classes at school, got
almost perfect grades, kept her room tidy, and always practiced
for her piano lessons. Seth, on the other hand, settled
for lousy grades, routinely skipped his homework, and
earned frequent detentions. Of course, he was also the one
with all the friends, so maybe there was a method to his
madness.
What’s the rush? He took the lead again, blazing a
trail through the undergrowth.
The longer we’re gone, the more likely somebody will
notice we’re missing.
It isn’t much farther. See that hedge?
It was not exactly a hedge. More like a tall barrier of
unkempt bushes. You call that a hedge?
The park is on the far side.
The wall of bushes extended as far as Kendra could see
in either direction. How do we get around it?
Through it. You’ll see.
They reached the bushes and Seth turned left, studying
the leafy barricade as he went, occasionally squatting and
checking closer. The interlocked bushes ranged from ten to
twelve feet tall, and they looked really thick.
Okay, I think this is where I squirmed through. There
was a deep indentation at the base of where two bushes
overlapped. Seth dropped to all fours and forced his way in.
You’re going to have a billion ticks, Kendra predicted.
They’re all hiding from the rain, he replied with perfect
confidence.
Kendra got down and followed him.
I don’t think this is the same way I got through last
time, Seth admitted. It’s a little more cramped. But it
should work. He was now slithering on his belly.
This better be good. Kendra squirmed on her elbows,
eyes squinted. The damp ground felt cold, and droplets fell
from the bush as she jostled it. Seth reached the far side
and stood up. She crawled through as well, her eyes widening
as she got to her feet.
Before her lay a pristine pond, a couple of hundred
yards across, with a small, verdant island at the center. A
series of elaborate gazebos surrounded the pond, interconnected
by a whitewashed boardwalk. Flowering vines
wound along the latticework of the impressive promenade.
Elegant swans glided on the water. Butterflies and hummingbirds
wove and darted among the blossoms. On the far
side of the pond, peacocks strutted and preened.
What in the world? Kendra gasped.
Come on. Seth started across the lush, neatly mown
lawn toward the nearest gazebo. Kendra looked back,
understanding why Seth had called the disheveled barrier
of bushes a hedge. On this side, the bushes were neatly
trimmed. The hedgerow encompassed the entire area, with
a single arched entryway off to one side.
Why didn’t we come through the entryway? Kendra
asked, trotting after her brother.
Shortcut. Seth paused at the white steps leading up
to the gazebo to pluck a piece of fruit from an espalier. Try
one.
You should wash it, Kendra said.
It just rained. He took a bite. It’s so good.
Kendra tried one. It was the sweetest nectarine she had
ever tasted. Delicious.
Together they mounted the steps of the extravagant
pavilion. The wood railing was perfectly smooth. Although
unshielded from the elements, all the woodwork appeared
to be in flawless condition: no peeling paint, no cracks, no
splinters.
The gazebo was furnished with white wicker love seats
and chairs. In some places the ubiquitous vines had been<
br />
woven into living wreaths and other fanciful patterns. A
bright parrot sat on a high perch staring down at them.
Look at the parrot! Kendra exclaimed.
Last time I saw some monkeys, Seth said. Little guys
with long arms. They were swinging all over the place.
And there was a goat. It ran away as soon as it saw me.
Seth took off, clomping down one of the boardwalks.
Kendra followed more slowly, absorbing the scene. It
looked like the setting of a fairy-tale wedding. She counted
twelve pavilions, each unique. One had a small white quay
projecting into the pond. The little pier was connected to a
floating shed that had to be a boathouse.
Kendra strolled after Seth, whose ruckus was sending
the swans drifting toward the far side of the lake, leaving
V-shaped ripples in their wake. The sun broke through the
clouds and gleamed upon the water.
Why would Grandpa Sorenson keep a place like this a
secret? It was magnificent! Why go through all the trouble
of maintaining it if not to enjoy it? Hundreds of people
could gather here with room to spare.
Kendra went to the gazebo with the pier and found that
the boathouse was locked. It was not large; she guessed it
held a few canoes or rowboats. Maybe Grandpa Sorenson
would give them permission to paddle around the pond.
No, she could not even tell him she knew about this place!
Was that why he had told them about the ticks and made
rules against venturing into the woods? To keep his little
Eden hidden? Could he be so selfish and secretive?
Kendra finished a complete lap around the pond, walking
on clean wooden planks the entire way. Across the
pond Seth yelled, and a small flock of cockatoos took
flight. The sun retreated behind clouds. They needed to get
back. Kendra told herself she could return later.
* * *
Kendra was concerned when she cut into her steak.
The middle was pink, almost red at the center. Grandpa
Sorenson and Dale were already taking bites.
Is my steak cooked? Kendra ventured.
‘ Course it’s cooked, Dale said around a mouthful.
It’s pretty red in the middle.
Only way to eat a steak, Grandpa said, dabbing his
mouth with a linen napkin. Medium rare. Keeps it juicy
and tender. If you cook it all the way through, you might
as well eat shoe leather.
Kendra glanced at Lena.
Go ahead, dear, the woman urged. You won’t get
sick; I cooked it plenty.
I like it, Seth said, chewing on a bite. We have any
ketchup?
Why would you go and ruin a perfectly good steak
with ketchup? Dale moaned.
You put it on your eggs, Lena reminded him, placing
a bottle in front of Seth.
That’s different. Ketchup and onions on eggs is a
necessity.
That’s sickening, Seth said, upending the bottle over
his steak.
Kendra took a bite of the garlic potatoes. They were
tasty. Mustering her courage, she sampled the steak.
Bursting with flavorful seasoning, it was much easier to
chew than other steak she had eaten. The steak is wonderful,
she said.
Thank you, dear, said Lena.
They ate in silence for a few moments. Grandpa
dabbed his mouth with his napkin again and cleared his
throat.
What do you suppose makes people so eager to break
rules?
Kendra felt a jolt of guilt. The question was addressed
generally and hung there awaiting a response. When
nobody answered, Grandpa continued.
Is it simply the pleasure of disobedience? The thrill of
rebellion?
Kendra glanced at Seth. He stared at his plate, picking
at his potatoes.
Were the rules unfair, Kendra? Was I being unreasonable?
No.
Did I leave you with nothing to do, Seth? No pool?
No tree house? No toys or hobbies?
We had things to do.
Then why did you two go into the woods? I warned
you there would be consequences.
Why are you hiding weird old ladies out in the forest?
Seth blurted.
Weird old ladies? Grandpa asked.
Yeah, what about that?
Grandpa nodded thoughtfully. She has a rotten old
rope. You didn’t blow on it?
I didn’t go near her. She was freaky.
She came to me and asked if she could build a shack
on my property. She promised to keep to herself. I saw no
harm in it. You shouldn’t go bothering her.
Seth found your private retreat, Kendra said. He
wanted me to see it. My curiosity got the better of me.
Private retreat?
Big pond? Fancy boardwalk? Parrots and swans and
peacocks?
Grandpa looked at Dale, speechless. Dale shrugged.
I was hoping you’d take us out on a boat, Kendra said.
Who said anything about a boat?
Kendra rolled her eyes. I saw the boathouse,
Grandpa.
He tossed his hands up and shook his head.
Kendra set her fork down. Why would you let such a
nice place go to waste?
That is my business, Grandpa said. Yours was to obey
my rules, for your own protection.
We’re not afraid of ticks, Seth said.
Grandpa folded his hands and lowered his eyes. I was
not entirely honest about why you needed to stay out of the
woods. He lifted his gaze. On my land, I provide refuge
for some dangerous animals, many of them endangered.
This includes poisonous snakes, toads, spiders, and scorpions,
along with bigger game. Wolves, apes, panthers. I use
chemicals and other controls to keep them away from the
yard, but the woods are extremely hazardous. Particularly
the island in the center of the lake. It is deliberately
infested with inland taipans, also called ‘fierce snakes,’ the
deadliest serpent known to man.
Why didn’t you warn us? Kendra asked.
My preserve is a secret. I have all the necessary
licenses, but if my neighbors complained, those could be
revoked. You must not tell a soul, not even your parents.
We saw a white frog, Seth said breathlessly. Was that
poisonous?
Grandpa nodded. Quite lethal. In Central America
the indigenous people use them to fashion poisoned darts.
Seth tried to catch it.
Had he succeeded, Grandpa said gravely, he would
be dead.
Seth swallowed. I’ll never go into the woods again.
I trust you won’t, Grandpa said. All the same, a rule
is of no value unless the punishment is enforced. You will
have to stay in your room for the rest of your stay.
What? Seth said. But you lied to us! Being afraid of
ticks is a lame reason to stay out of the woods! I just
thought you were treating us like babies.
You should have brought those concerns to me,
Grandpa said. Was I unclear about the rules or the consequences?
You were unclear about the reasons, Seth said.
That is my right. I am your grandfather. And thi
s is my
property.
I am your grandson. You should tell me the truth.
You’re not setting a very good example.
Kendra tried not to laugh. Seth was in lawyer mode. He
always tried to maneuver out of trouble with their parents.
Sometimes he made some pretty good points.
What do you think, Kendra? Grandpa asked.
She had not expected him to solicit her opinion. She
tried to collect her thoughts. Well, I agree that you didn’t
tell us the whole truth. No way would I have gone into the
woods if I knew there would be dangerous animals.
Me neither, Seth said.
I made two simple rules, you understood them, and
you broke them. Just because I chose not to share all my
reasons for making the rules, you think you should escape
punishment?
Yes, Seth said. Just this once.
That doesn’t sound fair to me, Grandpa said. Unless
the punishments are enforced, rules lose all their power.
But we won’t do it again, Seth said. We promise.
Don’t lock us up in the house for two weeks!
Don’t blame me, Grandpa said. You locked yourself
up by disregarding the rules. Kendra, what do you think
would be fair?
Maybe you could give us a reduced punishment as a
warning. Then the full punishment if we mess up again.
Reduced punishment, Grandpa mused. So you still
pay a price for your disobedience, but you get one more
chance. I might be able to live with that. Seth?
Better than the whole punishment.
That settles it. I will reduce your sentence to a single
day. You will spend tomorrow confined to the attic. You
can come down for meals, and you can use the bathroom,
but that is all. Break any of my rules again, and you will not
leave the attic until your parents come for you. For your
own safety. Understood?
Yes, sir, Kendra said.
Seth nodded his agreement.
Journal of Secrets
Did you ever notice the keyhole on the belly of the
unicorn? Seth asked. He was lying on the floor
beside the fanciful rocking horse, hands laced behind his
head.
Kendra looked up from her painting. She had asked
Lena to create a paint-by-numbers to help her endure her
incarceration. Kendra had wanted to paint the pavilions
around the pond, and Lena had quickly sketched a scene
with startling accuracy, as if the housekeeper had the place
memorized. Seth declined to have another canvas prepped.
Stuck in the attic or not, he was sick of painting.
Keyhole?
Weren’t you looking for keyholes?
