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Home Sweet Home

Chapter 22

Late afternoon came with a cool breeze and lovely spirit over the mountain. The pleasing opera of thrushes, cardinals, warblers, and wrens echoed in the forest. Wind swept inside the crown of the canopy and sent a shower of leaves below. In the distance, a crow’s caw faded away, and a woodpecker cackled under the sound of cicadas singing to the sun. A mile over the forest, clouds bellowed and an eagle chirped while she soared with them. A chipmunk tip-toed through the grassy downs that waved goodbye in the wind. 

The children had a hard time keeping themselves from skipping the entire way back, slowing only to lug up the steep mountain passes or along the shelf over Dark Canyon. Their spirits were high. They felt like experts of the forest, passing on the same footpath numerous times. By the time they reached the summit over Weeper’s Run, they raced each other down the steep side, bouncing off tree trunks and sliding on wet leaves, laughing and screaming. With their victory behind them, they let nothing out but joy and silliness. 

On the far side of Long Creek, they stopped their frolic when they heard the two urgent cries of their parents through the trees. “Marian! Esther! Herbert!”

“Mom and Dad,” Marian gasped.

Humble responsibility fell on them like a cinder block, and each tucked their head between their shoulders and sprinted over the hill to the gate entrance. None of them said a word, but each felt an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of their stomachs; one like you get when you know your parent is unhappy, but you must go to them, regardless.

They heard their parent’s speaking to one another on the far side of a silver maple. “Oh, Jesus, thank you—I can hear footsteps,” Mrs. Dolor said. 

“There!” Mr. Dolor shouted. 

The children saw two blurred figures through the tree-line racing toward them.

“Marian! Esther! Herbert!” Mrs. Dolor shouted with anger. “I cannot believe you would leave again without saying a word! After we just talked about this. I have been so worried—sick with fear! And Marian—you know better than—Hello, is this your friend Aaron?”

All this Mrs. Dolor blurted out between hugging and kissing the Dolor children. It delighted both she and Mr. Dolor so much to find all of them safe and sound that they forgot about how angry they were a moment ago. 

“Kids,” Mr. Dolor said sternly. “You know better than to leave without saying anything. You did this yesterday, and came back bloody and muddy. I’m glad you are all okay, but not again—do you understand? One of you may have gotten hurt out there.” 

“Yes, sir,” the three avowed.

“My God—what is that!” Mr. Dolor shouted. For the earth was shaking under the family’s feet, and the children wondered if Maushop had returned. But it was the gate rattling and rumbling as it slowly closed the left side, and then the right side, like an invisible hand were shutting it behind them.

“Wow!” Mrs. Dolor said. 

“How did—?” Mr. Dolor questioned.

“Is it automatic?” 

“Some kind of motion sensor.” 

Meanwhile, Herbert slowly backed away from the group, before dropping to his knees behind a rhododendron on the side of the gate’s right pillar. He ran his fingers along the bottom, feeling for the familiar shape of the eight-point star. 

A strange sound came from the shadows, and for a moment, he thought the bush had whispered or sneezed at him. He stared into the web of dark leaves, but chuckled at how silly that would be. 

His fingers found the hole at the bottom of the wall and he placed the new cougar figurine David Crockett had given him; just as he had instructed. The thing fit snugly and wouldn’t budge after snapping in place.

He dropped out of the rhododendron and jumped to his feet, just in time to receive a hug from Aaron on his way home. 

“See ye’ns at a-bus stop, Monday,” Aaron said to the others, and picked up his bike.

The next few weeks went by with little significance. There were no more sightings of Tsul ‘Kalu, the unicorn, or the creepy Mr. Dauer. Mr. Dolor was even at home more and the family’s movie-nights and board-games returned. Life became simpler and less remarkable, which the children did not mind at all. 

Although, one remarkable thing happened, and that was now Aaron spent a lot more time with the Dolors at school and home. And he even went back to his cousin Vinnie to apologize for tricking him. Vinnie forgave him with little effort; apparently, he had always known Aaron had faked the photo, and it had hardly consumed his thoughts anymore, ever since he started looking for new photos of strange beasts. 

The children liked Lanier Elementary a lot more now. Marian’s teacher recognized her as the brightest in the class and often asked for her help during study-hour. The girls in Esther’s class loved the immaculate marigold she wore in her pigtails. And no one dared make fun of Herbert for any reason, or they had to answer to Aaron. 

One Friday afternoon, the children reminisced about their funniest stories in the forest, sitting at the kitchen table while Mrs. Dolor made dinner.

“Remember the way Herbert looked riding on Aaron’s back in the cave, with his glasses down around his face?” Marian laughed.

“Yeah, he looked like a goofy cartoon,” Esther jeered. 

“I almost died!” Herbert shouted, laughing through his milk at them. “And what about Esther drooling all over herself on Balaam’s back. Oh, I’m so injured…oh, my  leg might fall off.” 

“That never happened, Herbert.” Esther rolled her eyes at him. “But, for real, nothing was as funny as when Marian tripped in the thicket in Fool’s Pass and got her butt stuck in that gopher tortoise’s hole!” Esther cackled. 

“Balaam had to pull you out with his tail!” Herbert shouted. 

All three roared with laughter. 

“What are you three talking about?” Mrs. Dolor asked while stirring a pot of spaghetti. 

“Nothing,” Marian said, and noticed six plates at the dinner table.  

“I remember having fun,” said Herbert.

“I did too,” Esther smiled.

“Oh! And ice-cream at Mr. Mewbourn’s.”

“We need to go see him again!”

“And the new treehouse!”

Just then, the front door opened and scraped the wooden floorboards. The children cheered, “Daddy!” 

Mr. Dolor stepped through the threshold with his hands full of boxes, bags, and papers. He was sopping wet from the storm outside.

“What’s all that, dear?” Mrs. Dolor asked.

Mr. Dolor dropped the things on the floor with a loud bang. “I told you already, honey,” he huffed and puffed. “I’m thrilled about the direction our business is headed. New real estate. New banking partners. New opportunities—oh good, you made a spot for him at the table. Kids, my boss will be staying with us for a little bit until we get it all figured out.” 

The children’s eyes widened when they watched the heavy footfalls of Professor Ludwig Wolfgang entering their home. He stood in the foyer, dressed in a black trench coat, water dripping from his black fedora. 

“Living with us?” Marian asked, shocked.

“Ah,” Professor Ludwig Wolfgang sighed. “Home sweet home.”

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