Tad Williams: The Secrets of Ordinary Farm

“Hurry! Make faster magic, boy.” Mr. Walkwell sounded grumpy, but that was no surprise: Mr. Walkwell didn’t like Colin much and made that clear to him nearly every day. “The children will be here in a few hours and Gideon wants everything to be ready.”

Colin Needle made a face but didn’t say anything, only bent closer over his laptop. Thunder rumbled above the distant hills. The sky felt hot, heavy, and close. The children this, the children that -he was so sick of hearing about them! Everybody at Ordinary Farm except Colin and his mother seemed to think Lucinda and Tyler Jenkins were something wonderful, but really the two were nothing but troublemakers. In just a few weeks last summer the Jenkins kids had managed to ruin all of Colin’s careful plans to improve Ordinary Farm, and now they were coming back for another summer’s stay. Lucinda and Tyler, Tyler and Lucinda-he was tired of hearing their names and tired of everyone on the farm making such a big show out of their return visit.

The sky growled again. A single fat drop of rain fell on Colin’s screen. The weather had been strange all spring and didn’t show any sign of changing, the days as hot as they always were at this time of the year but also damp, overcast, and even sometimes stormy. Colin Needle had never been to a tropical country but he imagined it might be a little like the weather around this part of California lately.

The huge Norseman Ragnar had finished installing the complicated new gate on the adobe barn, and now he wandered over, wiping either sweat or rain off his forehead with his wide forearm. “Why aren’t you finished, Needle?” Ragnar demanded. “We have done all the hard part, boy! Just cast your spells so we can go and get ourselves something cold to drink.”

“It’s not magic and they’re not spells,” Colin said through clenched teeth. “I’m trying to hook the new security gates and fences up to a computer network so we can do everything from a distance. I already explained it all several times.”

“You told me your flat box makes things work by invisible lightning that flies through the air,” said Ragnar. “What is that if it is not magic?”

Colin scowled. Nobody else at Ordinary Farm knew anything much about electricity or computers, let alone wireless networks-most of them had been born centuries before such things existed. Even his mother, who had learned enough to use the internet and keep her experimental and household records on a computer, still could not come close to what Colin himself could do. Some day Gideon would be gone and Colin Needle would be in charge. Lucinda and Tyler Jenkins would have to do exactly what he said, then-if he even allowed them to visit the farm.

Even Colin’s own mother, frightening as she might be, would have to do what he wanted…

A deep, rasping snarl from the far side of the barn made Colin Needle jump in fear. Ragnar laughed and slapped his thigh; he had made it very clear that he didn’t like Colin any more than Mr. Walkwell did. “Don’t jump out of your skin, boy! It’s just the manties saying they are tired of their cage. They want to come out and play with you!”

“Very funny,” Colin said, but he was shivering. “Those things are killers.”

“And who made Gideon think so much about protecting the farm?” Mr. Walkwell gestured to the sliding electric gate they were struggling to finish. “Who was it who brought Gideon’s enemies here onto our land?”

“Leave me alone, will you? I said I was sorry! I’ve said it a thousand times!”

In truth, Colin thought Gideon’s new obsession with security was the most intelligent idea the old man had come up with in years, but that didn’t make him want to spend any more time around these imprisoned monsters than he absolutely had to. There was something about their orange eyes-something so cold and knowing… “You said their cage is secure, right?” he asked the two men. “Right? Then get out the way and let me try this.” Colin clicked the OPEN button on his screen. A few yards away the motor whined for a moment, then the heavy metal barn gate rattled as it began to slide to one side on its small wheels. It really was a little bit like magic, Colin Needle thought proudly. The manties heard the noise and began grunting and barking inside the barn. Colin was very grateful the savage things were caged behind heavy steel bars: their long yellow teeth, clawed fingers, and curiously intelligent but emotionless eyes had haunted more than a few of his nightmares lately.

A brief flurry of rain spotted the dust and splashed warmly on Colin’s neck. He opened and closed the gates a few more times to make certain he had set everything correctly, then shut down the program while Ragnar and Mr. Walkwell finished with the last details.

Simos Walkwell whistled to him, a sound that made Colin bristle-calling him like he was a dog! “Needle,” he said, “take the end of this metal rope and hold it as I roll the rest up.” Mr. Walkwell didn’t seem to sweat even in the most sweltering weather, but he pulled off his hat and ran his fingers through his hair as he examined the loop of plastic-covered wire cable in his hands. He hadn’t sanded down his horns in several days and they looked like tiny tree stumps growing just above his temples.

“It’s not a metal rope,” said Colin, “it’s wire. The word is wire .”

The old Greek barked a humorless laugh. “You knew what I meant. Now make yourself useful, boy. Hold the metal rope and close your mouth. Both things will help.”

Colin swallowed a bitter response. You’ll see, he thought. I really will be in charge of this farm one day, no matter what you or those stuck-up Jenkins kids think. And when that happens, everything’s going to be different. Very, very different.

The summer storm had already drifted off to the other side of the valley as its last damp traces vanished into the dirt. As the thunder died away Colin could finally hear the sounds coming from the barn on the other side of the new gate-the restless noises of large, hungry creatures waiting to be released.

“I can’t believe you came to pick us up, Uncle Gideon!” Fourteen year old Lucinda Jenkins turned to her younger brother. “Isn’t this great? We’re back!”

For once, even Tyler wasn’t trying to pretend he was too cool for everything. “Yeah,” he said, grinning. “It’s definitely great.” It was amusing to see his sister so thrilled-this from a girl who thought even Planetoid, the best video game in history, was “mega-boring.” In fact, Tyler was feeling pretty happy himself; even the unusually damp weather seemed exciting.

Uncle Gideon looked happy to see them too, which made a nice change from long stretches of last summer when he had acted as though he regretted inviting them to his very special farm. Gideon Goldring looked healthier than he had last year as well-he was even wearing something other than his normal working costume of pajamas and a bathrobe. His white hair was uncombed as usual of course, but very clean, and his skin was tan as though he had been spending time out in the sun.

“And it’s good to have you two here!” their great-uncle said, laughing. “Now, hurry, children! We have a long drive ahead of us and everyone’s waiting to see you.”

Simos Walkwell, Gideon’s right-hand man-or at least with his hat and boots on he looked like a man, though Tyler and his sister knew better-nodded and might have even smiled a little, but broad emotional displays were not his style. He tossed both big suitcases up onto the wagon bed as if they were no heavier than sofa cushions, then hopped back onto the driver’s bench. Lucinda scrambled up into the bed of the cart, Tyler right behind her.