The Seven Wonders of Sassafras Springs

by Betty G. Birney

  I was feeling confused. “Aunt Pretty, I thought you didn’t approve of me going.”

  “At first I was vexed, I admit. Sometimes folks go away and don’t come back. But I’m pleased for you to take a trip, Eben. I just have my concerns. You seem to have forgotten, Cole, that no one was too happy when Molly married Eli—him being a complete stranger she’d known for about a week.”

  “That was twenty years ago.” Pa slapped at a mosquito. “Guess he’s no stranger to Molly anymore.”

  Aunt Pretty’s needle darted in and out of the white cloth. “Don’t even know where those two live,” she muttered. “Might live in a tent for all we know.”

  “A tent would be nice and cool in summer.” Pa gave me a wink. “Yessir, I might try that sometime.”

  A slight smile played across Aunt Pretty’s lips. “Maybe I’d better knit Eben a nice warm sweater, just in case.”

  The conversation was getting under my skin. “I haven’t got seven Wonders yet.” I glanced at Pa. “I just wasted a whole afternoon on a joke.”

  “Goodness gracious, you have two whole days left,” said Aunt Pretty. “Now stand up, let me see if this will fit.”

  She held the cloth up against my shoulders and said it’d fit just fine, but I had a strong suspicion I wasn’t going anywhere. It was the first day I hadn’t actually gotten a Wonder, and I was feeling gun-shy about showing myself in public again.

  I sat down on the front step, feeling downright sorry for myself. What good on Earth were four Wonders? I might as well have gone fishing for four days.

  Aunt Pretty put down her sewing and excused herself to put supper on the table. She stopped at the door and sniffed the air. “Smells like rain coming.”

  “High time,” said Pa.

  After a while the yard took on that purply look it gets after the sun has hit the horizon. Pa stretched and sighed and I could tell he was getting ready to go out and do the milking, so I jumped up first and grabbed a lantern.

  “Let me, Pa. I can handle it by myself.”

  Pa looked surprised but pleased. I was pleased too, since Myrt and Mabel were probably the only two females in Sassafras Springs that hadn’t heard about the outhouse yet.

  I was relaxing to the steady splashing of the milk hitting the pail when I heard a rustling noise. Myrt looked nervous, and Sal jumped up and ran to the barn door.

  Standing in the doorway was trouble herself: Rae Ellen Hubbell, carrying a raggedy old burlap bag.

  “What are you doing here?” My tone of voice made it clear I wasn’t happy to see her.

  “You need another Wonderful, so I figured, if you’re not going to come to me, I’ll bring it to you.” She raised the burlap sack so I could see it.

  I sighed. “Rae Ellen, I’m milking here.”

  She perched herself on a hay bale and said, “I can wait.”

  Wait she did, for Myrt was not a cow to be hurried and neither was Mabel.

  Just about the time I was finished, Pa came out to take the milk buckets. He didn’t seem surprised to see Rae Ellen there. He just said, “Howdy,” and told me he’d have Aunt Pretty hold my supper for me while I entertained my guest.

  I was about to say that guests were folks you actually invited, but I knew he’d get on me for being rude.

  Once he was gone, Rae Ellen slid off the hay bale and brought her sack over to me. “Do you want to see my Wonderful or not?”

  “It better be good,” I warned her.

  Rae Ellen led me to the window, carefully opened the bag, and reached inside.

  “It’s a ship in a bottle.” Rae Ellen’s voice quivered. “My uncle Dutch gave it to me.”

  I stared at the dusty bottle. The tiny ship inside didn’t impress me much. “I know how they do it,” I bragged. “They collapse the boat, stick it in the bottle, and pull it up again with a string. It’s a trick, not a Wonder.”

  “Eben McAllister, are you dumb as a post? This isn’t some regular old ship in a bottle. This is a real live ship with a cargo of pure and terrible evil!” Rae Ellens eyes widened as she paused. “Now, are you going to write this down or not?”

  “Aw, go on,” I said, pulling out my tablet. “But make it fast.”

  Rae Ellen’s Story

  Dark Seas

  Uncle Dutch says in summer he’d watch the waves of corn out in the field and all he could think about was the ocean and cool water and tropical breezes. As soon as he was old enough, he snuck out of the house and went east, looking for the sea and a job on a ship.

  He didn’t know diddly about ships or sailing, so he had to tell a big fib to get a job as a cabin boy. He went on a great big ship, the S.S. Phantom of the Sea. A phantom is a ghost, you know. Anyway, the ship was heading for Africa. That’s about as far away as you can go.

  Uncle Dutch says back in the cornfields he hadn’t thought about seasickness and bad food and nasty sailors, and that’s what he found there. But he liked the blue waves and the cool breezes, and his belly got used to the ship rocking after a while.

  The big problem was the captain of the ship. His name was Captain Graves, and he was meaner than Old Lady Ellis. She won’t even let me take a shortcut through her orchard. Says I stole apples! Anyway, the captain, he kept all the good food and drink locked up for himself while the crew half starved. He treated the sailors like dirt—worse than dirt, worse than you boys treat us girls. Uncle Dutch says he was skin and bones after a few weeks, and the whole crew was grumbling about Captain Graves.

  Well, they reached the tip of Africa, and they were supposed to go all the way around the Cape of something-or-other. Then the most awfullest, terrible storm hit the S.S. Phantom of the Sea. The sailors were scared out of their wits, especially Uncle Dutch! The waves whooshed over the deck. Lightning struck all around them. Finally, the first mate—he’s the head sailor—knocked on the captain’s door.

  Captain Graves was mad as all get-out that somebody disturbed him ’cause he’d been drinking his expensive “likker” from France or some such place. The first mate told him the crew was scared and wanted to sail into a safe harbor for the night. They knew they were close to land. That mean captain cussed him with bad words, Eben—real bad, so bad I can’t say them.

  “I am afraid of nothing on heaven or Earth,” he said, and he slammed the door in the first mates face. Bang!

  Uncle Dutch says he prayed for the storm to let up, but it got worse and worser. He hung on to the side of the ship for dear life, and all he could think about were the rows of corn waving in the hot sun. He swore if he ever got to land safely, he’d never set foot on a ship again.

  That’s what he was thinking when a huge wave crashed against the deck and washed two sailors overboard right before his eyes. The crew sent down whatchamacallits—life peaservers—to fish them out, but no one ever laid eyes on them again. The rest of the crew was wailing like ghosts, which Uncle Dutch says he thought they were soon going to be.

  So they went back to the captain’s cabin and the first mate knocked.

  This time the captain was roaring mad when he opened the door. His eyes were bloodshot and his breath was hot.

  “Bunch of quivering cowards” he called them and said that all of them together didn’t have the courage of one real man like him. “God will not sink my ship—he wouldn’t dare!” he shouted. And you know, Eben, it’s not a good idea to dare the Lord!

  The sailors were fixing to gather down below to decide what to do. As they walked away from the cabin, they saw something coming toward them, glowing like foxfire out in the piney woods. Oh, it was a horrible thing with fiery red eyes. It walked toward them, then it walked right through them and on into the captains cabin, without bothering to open the door! It was a ghost … or maybe something even worse.

  Uncle Dutch says they could hear the captain talking, like he was having a conversation, but they could only hear one voice.

  “I want no help! I need no help! Now get off my ship!” the captain shouted.

  T
here were three gunshots. Pow-pow-pow! They heard a weird voice, like the wind howling. “This ship is doomed. And you are doomed to remain on board for all eternity!” Uncle Dutch says that means forever and ever.

  The words gave my uncle an awful chill. The sailors broke down the door, and they were surprised as could be to see Captain Graves standing there with his pistol in one hand and an empty bottle in the other. It was this same bottle, Eben, and there was no one else in the room! Not a sign of another living soul.

  There was a crash—boom!—and the ship pitched over on its side. Uncle Dutch says he slid right out the little round window called the “pothole” and over the edge of the ship. The next thing he knew, he was in the water, hanging on to a piece of floating wood. After a while the clouds lifted, and out popped a full moon with a big smiling face. The storm was over.

  Uncle Dutch says he doesn’t know how long he floated. Sometime the next day he reached land. He couldn’t believe his good luck! He crawled onshore and looked around for other signs of life, but he never saw another sailor from that ship again. He spent the day there, and that afternoon he found something else that had floated onshore. It was this bottle and inside was this ship, just like you see it now, with these letters on the side saying, S.S. Phantom of the Sea. And you’d better believe that, Eben, or you’ll be sorry.

  Uncle Dutch says he wandered for a while until he found a village. Some Englishmen helped him get a place on a ship coming back home.

  Since he got back, he’s never so much as set foot in a canoe. He won’t even get in the bathtub! He says nothing makes him happier than a hot summer day, the drier the better. He gave me this bottle ’cause he said he never wanted sight of it again. He told me to take special care of it.

  “Don’t ever break it, Rae Ellen,” he said. “I can’t be ’sponsible for what would happen if all that evil ever got out.”

  Rae Ellen stopped talking long enough for me to figure out the story was over. “It’s a one-of-a-kind Wonderful, isn’t it?” she asked.

  “It’s a good story,” I said. “And it could be a Wonder. I might get to Colorado yet.”

  “Colorado!” Rae Ellen screeched. “Well, what do I get? It’s my story! What are you going to give me for it?”

  I considered for a moment. “I’ll give you my pie on the first day of school.” At least then she wouldn’t have to steal it.

  “First week,” she insisted. “Five whole days.”

  I was in no mood to argue. “First week,” I agreed. “And if I were you, Rae Ellen, I’d take real good care of that bottle … just in case.”

  When we came outside again, it was dark, and Pa insisted on driving Rae Ellen home in the pickup. That was a Wonder, because Pa wasn’t one to waste gas. In fact, some folks didn’t even know we had a truck, he used it so seldom.

  He made me ride along, but I don’t think any of us said a word all the way to the Hubbells’ place. I kept a close eye on that burlap sack.

  On the way back home, big fat raindrops started plopping on the windshield.

  “Looks like your friend brought us luck,” said Pa.

  I didn’t believe that, but I was feeling pretty certain she’d brought me a genuine Wonder.

  Days Six and Seven I Start Again

  It poured rain on Monday—like the monsoon rains in India I read about in Hardy T. Langs book. The weather was good for the crops but not good for Wonders. On the other hand, folks wouldn’t be able to get out and trade stories about me getting tipped over in the outhouse for a while.

  Even with the rain, the cows needed milking, the chickens needed feeding, and Aunt Pretty needed someone to stir the catsup she was making, and to taste it as well.

  Pa thought it was fine weather to mend the fence, but when he came in from lunch, dripping like a drenched cat, he admitted that it might be a good afternoon to sit inside and balance his accounts.

  “I thought of going down to the store, but there’s a lake in the middle of Yellow Dog Road,” he explained.

  “Taste this.” Aunt Pretty stuck a wooden spoon dripping with catsup in Pa’s mouth.

  “Good as ever,” said Pa. “Will you be making chili sauce, too?”

  “As if there’s ever been a year I didn’t,” said Aunt Pretty. “Is it a tad on the sweet side?”

  “Well, I like it sweet,” said Pa.

  Pa chewed on the sandwich Aunt Pretty set down before him. “Guess this weather’s put a crimp in the Wonders business.”

  “Yep.” I didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Still, you say you got five Wonders in five days. Not bad.”

  “But if I don’t get out today, I’ll have to get two of them tomorrow.”

  Aunt Pretty ladled catsup into the waiting jars. “Seems to me the boy could have a break on account of rain.”

  Pa considered that thought for a bit. “If I give him an extra day, he’ll take an extra day. Let’s leave it at seven and see what he comes up with.”

  My aunt sighed, but Pa acted like he didn’t hear her and went back to eating. So did I.

  Later, when the catsup didn’t need tasting and Pa was going over figures in a big black book he kept, I did some accounting myself.

  Five Wonders, or even six, weren’t worth a thing. I’d uncovered some amazing things, but I’d stirred up some trouble as well. I wasn’t certain if I could find two other Wonders, and I didn’t know if I wanted to try anyway.

  I drew up a map of Sassafras Springs and marked off all the farms and houses I knew of. Then I made a list of all the families I knew and checked off everyone I’d visited or talked to so far.

  I was hoping when I had everything written down, it’d be clear what my next step would be. There’d be some place I’d forgotten that would clearly have a Wonder or two sitting around collecting dust.

  “Why, I’d almost forgotten that ancient temple in the apple orchard,” somebody would say. “And I think there’s a Trojan Horse right next to it.”

  The Trojan Horse was something I wished I could see, but it was long gone. Imagine a wooden horse so big that the whole Greek army could get inside as a trick to get into Troy and fight their enemies.

  The only trick we’d had in Sassafras Springs recently took place at the old outhouse in the woods. I didn’t want to think about that again.

  My list showed that there were some scattered spots I’d missed. The rest of the houses in town, all grouped around the Saylors’ place. The rest of Bent Fork (but I’d be surprised if anybody but Calvin Smiley could come up with a Wonder). The east side of the ridge. The Bowies lived there, but Albert would have told me by now if they had a Wonder. There were a couple of other farms. The mayor lived up there, but I hated to bother such an important person. Then there was a spot where the ridge dropped off into Rooster Hollow, where Uncle Alf Dee lived. He raised prize-winning mules there, and it would take a mule to get down the steep rocky trail to his place. No wonder I’d put that one off so far.

  It was a small list, and not too promising, but I never would have guessed Rae Ellen had a Wonder either. I decided if it wasn’t raining the next day, I’d give it another try.

  By suppertime I had my list, Pa’s books were balanced, and we had thirty-six jars of catsup lined up on the windowsills.

  It rained until dawn on Tuesday, or so Pa told me later. As soon as the sun was due to rise, the downpour stopped. I didn’t see it myself, because I was still sleeping. I’d been getting out of bed at sunrise my whole life, but for some reason, that morning I slept in and no one woke me up.

  I was wide awake, though, when I went into the kitchen for breakfast and saw that Aunt Pretty wasn’t alone. Sitting at the kitchen table, as if he ate there every day, was Coogie Jackson, digging into a plate of biscuits and ham gravy.

  “There’s our sleepyhead,” Aunt Pretty greeted me.

  “Howdy, Eben.” Coogie grinned.

  “What are you doing here?” I guess I didn’t sound overly friendly.

  “Calm down,”
said Coogie. “I’m here to make up for what happened the other day.”

  I slid into my seat at the table, and Aunt Pretty set down a plate for me.

  “I was just having fun.” Coogie stopped to take a big gulp of milk. “Jeb said how important this Wonder thing was to you, so I’m here to help you.”

  “Help me what?”

  “Find those last two Wonders. Jeb’s coming too.”

  Jeb had talked to Coogie about me? I guess he was still my best friend, even if he didn’t understand about exploring and Wonders and such.

  I glanced over at Aunt Pretty. “I’m supposed to find them on my own.”

  “Land’s sake, nobody said a friend couldn’t point one out to you,” she said. “Why, that Rae Ellen brought one right to your door.”

  Just what I didn’t want Coogie to hear. But it turns out he knew already. “That’s right. If Rae Ellen has a Wonder, anybody can have one.”

  “But Pa needs me to work.”

  “He went down to pick up the mail, Eben, but he said to tell you that you have the whole day off,” Aunt Pretty announced proudly.

  Everybody was acting mighty peculiar. I was trying to figure it out when Coogie wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed his chair back. “Miss McAllister, you are the best cook in the county,” he said. “Just like everybody says.”

  “Can’t you stay for seconds?” My aunt sounded kind of wistful.

  “No, ma’am,” he answered. “Not on a two-Wonder day.”

  I shoveled in another mouthful of biscuit and pushed my chair back too.

  As we left Coogie told my aunt, “Better not expect him for lunch.”

  Sal was out the door before we were, as usual.

  We stopped by the Austins’ place to pick up Jeb. “Don’t you have to look after your brothers and sisters?” I asked.

  “Nope,” said Jeb. “Guess this is some kind of holiday.”

  I looked at Jeb and Coogie. “No tricks?”

  “Just Wonders,” said Coogie.

  It seems that Coogie and Jeb thought finding Wonders was like picking apples—the more people you had, the faster you could gather them.