Tad Williams: The Secrets of Ordinary Farm

“What is it?” There were labels all over it, like someone sent it from far away. The labels were in English, but the names all looked very exotic-the sender seemed to be someone named Koto. Lucinda couldn’t even guess what kind of name that was. “Wow-look at this label,” Tyler said. “This box came from Madagascar!” He pulled his knife out of his pocket. “Swiss Army to the rescue!” He began hacking through the thin metal bands that held the box closed.

“Don’t cut yourself,” she said, but Tyler ignored her; a few moments later he was prying up the lid of the small crate. When it popped free, a smell rolled out like nothing Lucinda had ever smelled before, dusty and dark and rotten-sweet, confirming every prejudice she had against this venture.

“ Oohh, gross!” She gasped. “What is that? Don’t touch it, Tyler!”

That was something shriveled and possessed of little legs folded up against a long, dried-out body. Tyler lifted it off the top of the nested paper. “Awesome. It’s a lizard!”

“Yecch. It’s lizard jerky, is what it is.”

Tyler actually waved it in her face, like he was four years old.

“ Stop!”

Luckily the lizard had been dead and dried long enough that it had almost no smell, but Lucinda still didn’t want to touch it. She watched as Tyler set it aside and began digging through the scrunched-up paper. “The rest of looks like it’s all plants,” he said, holding up some kind of bulb with little bits of dry soil still clinging to its tiny roots. “And seeds in glass jars-this one has a note on it that says, ‘Unknown Sarracenia… ’ Tyler was digging busily in the paper now, and suddenly she flashed back to him as a very small kid, seeing in her mind’s eye the way he used to excavate in the just-opened cereal box for a free toy, and how crazy that used to make their mother: ‘Pour it out in a bowl, for God’s sake. Don’t stick your dirty hands in there!’

Tyler tossed something at Lucinda-a bundle of letters, held together with an old rubber band that broke into pieces as she grabbed for the letters. They scattered all over the floor.

“Clumsy,” said Tyler, which made Lucinda fume. She picked one up and was startled by what was written on it.

“ ‘Doctor Grace Goldring! ’ ” she said. “Wow – did you know Gideon’s wife Grace was a doctor?”

Tyler shook his head. “But this stuff is mostly seeds,” he said, disappointed. “Some powdery, mushroomy stuff, and a couple of bugs in, like, test tubes… ”

“So she was a biologist… ” said Lucinda, impressed. “A scientist.”

Tyler stopped abruptly, his hand sunk deep in the packing materials, and for moment Lucinda was scared that the poisonous spider she’d been worrying about all along had bitten him. Then she heard it too-a key turning in the door of her room.

Lucinda looked at Tyler, who stared back at her, wide-eyed. “Just a minute!” Lucinda shouted. “Don’t come in!”

Tyler was shoving everything he’d pulled out back into the wooden crate. Lucinda frantically tried to gather up the letters, dropping several in her haste, but there was no time: the door banged open.

Mrs. Needle stood in the doorway, slender as a pointing finger. Her eyes widened when she saw the crate and its contents on the floor, but her face otherwise remained an emotionless mask. “I might have known. The first day and already you two are causing trouble.” She called over her shoulder, “Colin!”

Her son walked in. The boy who had just endured a horrid dragon-snot burn looked fine now, just as his mother had claimed. He gave Lucinda a look as he walked into the bedroom that she could have sworn was pure embarrassment.

“You locked us in!” Tyler said accusingly.

“And you not only got out, you made what must have been a very dangerous excursion to get here,” snapped Mrs. Needle. “What did you do, child, climb out the window? Do you know how foolish that is?” She stared down at the crate. “And what is this?” She looked up to the open panel in the ceiling. “Incorrigible. A few hours back in the house and you are already burglarizing the place, rifling through things that don’t belong to you… ” She shook her head. “Colin, gather this all up and carry it to my office.”

He already had it in his hands. “The lizard too?” he said, sounding weary.

“Yes, of course the lizard-goodness only knows what kind of important scientific specimen it might be.” Mrs. Needle sighed. “As for you two, I am sure Gideon will have something to say to you both in the morning. Tyler, back to your room.”

“You’re not my mom,” he said quietly, but for once that was as much resistance as her brother was willing to offer. Colin led him out.

Great, Lucinda thought as Mrs. Needle locked the door behind her. She threw herself back on the bed, miserable. She wanted to pound her heels on the floor like an angry toddler. Here less than a day and we’re in trouble again.

Colin had been very careful all year to stay away from the dragons. What happened in the Sick Barn proved him right, although it had hurt too much for him to enjoy his moral victory. Yes, his fears were now confirmed: dragons remembered. The beasts had too much freedom, that was the problem. Meseret should be muzzled like a dangerous dog, and her mate, Alamu, shouldn’t be flying around the huge property unsupervised. It was all just another example of why someone sensible-someone like Colin himself-should be in charge.

As he was thinking these and other sour thoughts over breakfast, his mother appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Colin, go to Lucinda Jenkins’ room and make certain there is nothing left in that crawlspace-I cannot trust those children to tell me. If you find anything else, bring it straight to me. Straight to me.”

Colin nodded and went without complaining, an act he occasionally put on, like an old t-shirt he could pull over his head and later just drop on the floor. It was easier and more sensible than arguing, since he had never won an argument with his mother and doubted he ever would.

Lucinda’s room was empty of Jenkins kids, which was a relief. After an awkward climb onto the dresser and up into the crawlspace yielded no further discoveries, he trudged back down to his mother’s office to tell her the news. She didn’t seem surprised. She was already carefully unpacking the shipping crate, setting out its contents on her big table in neat rows of jars, tubes and crumpled foreign newspapers, and making notes on a lined pad.

“That’s fine, dear. Run along and help the others now-I’m sure Gideon can find something for you to do. I’ll be busy until lunchtime but I’ll see you then.”

“I thought maybe I could work with you-help you sort through this stuff… ”

“Oh, no, Colin. Thank you, but you’d just be in the way.” She hadn’t even looked up.

He kicked the banister as he went down the stairs and hurt his toe. Why was it every time that Tyler and Lucinda Jenkins showed up, things immediately went bad for Colin Needle?

Blazing early-morning light filled the open front door, throwing much else of the entry hall into darkness. A little hot, fresh air blew in, disturbing the dust motes as they drifted in the light.

Gideon was up and wearing his going-out clothes, which meant he’d pulled a pair of pants over his pajamas. His white hair looked like he’d just pulled a pair of pants over that as well-it stuck up like wispy grass. The master of Ordinary Farm also had the hearty, pleased-with-himself air that Colin disliked-what he thought of as Gideon’s “great man” personality, when he acted as if everything he said and did was being noted by historians. What the old man was really like, Colin thought, was the movie version of the Wizard of Oz-a humbug, full of speeches and hot air.