Chapter the 36th
“Are you sure Roger’s going to be all right?” Kevin asked his mother.
“No,” Marion answered as she led her children down the street from the hospital, “but I think he will be. For once in my life I had the pleasure of looking at a chart that had all the results I wanted.”
“Are you really going to send Roger a bill for two hundred doubloons?” Karen asked her.
Marion laughed.
“I don’t think the bursar’s office will know how to do that. I think they will have to count it as a charity case for an uninsured patient. If I do receive the doubloons that Samantha promised to have her pirate friends send me, I will try to to cash them in and give the money to the hospital.”
“I never thought I’d say this,” said Kevin, “but I’m awfully glad you’re a doctor.”
When Kevin put an arm around his mother, Marion was on the verge of tears.
“Mother,” said Karen, “you’re going to have to brace yourself before you look at Main Street now.”
“I’ve already seen the fountain and that dark tower in the middle of the street,” said Marion.
“Well, now there’s more,” said Karen slyly.
“Oh, my!” Marion exclaimed when she saw the street for herself. “There are quite a few stores that didn’t use to be here. Did the train bring them in?”
“Maybe,” said Karen, “I don’t know how all this stuff works. There’s the Byrd & Tallis. That’s where Shawn tried to take me to dinner.”
“Think he’ll try again?” asked Kevin with a mocking smile.
“Maybe,” said Karen, trying to sound non-committal.
Amarilla was standing in the door of the Byrd & Tallis talking to the Armstrongs. Harvey Armstrong shook his head and took his wife and daughter further up the street to a more familiar restaurant. Sheila slumped her body in disappointment, but she didn’t say anything.
“Here’s the shop Sheila and I went into, where Sheila got that candle,” said Kevin as he pointed to Taverner & Tye’s.
“Looks like there are so many candles in there that there isn’t any room for customers,” Marion observed.
“It’s a funny shop, all right” said Kevin.
“Mom, Amarilla’s waving at us,” said Karen.
“Then let’s go see what she wants,” Marion replied.
The Rosskills crossed the street, passing between the fountain with the multi-colored water and the lighthouse. Several children were dipping their bubble pipes into the fountain and blowing bubbles.
“I’m so glad I spotted you,” said Amarilla. “We reserved place for you to have dinner with us.”
“I think that refusing your kind invitation is unthinkable,” said Marion, much to the open delight of her children.
They followed Amarilla through a swinging door into a restaurant that was so overcrowded that waiters were practically jumping over tables to serve their customers. Back in a corner, Amarilla’s family, the Clements, several of the choristers, a crowned king with two well-dressed children, a harpist, Scott, Michael, Shawn, Samantha and Roger, his turban of bandages still wrapped about his head, and many others all crowded around a table. Even Fenrir sat at the table between Edmund and Nigel. To Karen’s surprise, Mrs. Gleason was sitting next to Gary Haggler, surely not a prize pupil of hers, and Dennis, who was loudly gushing out stories about a Great Aunt of his. Undisturbed by the congestion, Amarilla led the Rosskills back to the table and, by the time they got there, three open places had appeared. When Shawn beckoned to Karen and an empty seat beside him, she did not have the heart to turn him down.
“Roger, I hadn’t released you from the hospital just yet,” Marion scolded the boy, but she could not disguise her pleasure at seeing him look so bright and cheerful after what he had been through.
“I have to play the violin with the choir tonight,” said Roger. “At least I promised my mother I wouldn’t go on any more cosmic quests for at least a week.”
“And I’ll hold him to that promise if I have to tie him to his bed with a violin string,” said his mother.
“Do you have to perform tonight?” Marion asked Roger.
“The manuscript for Christopher Tye’s Lost Mass that Sheila found has a violin part that Roger wrote and that means he has to play it,” said Nigel.
“Sheila’s the best music manuscript finder we’ve had in three centuries,” said Edmund.
“Too bad she couldn’t come to dinner with us,” said Samantha.
“Her parents are a little possessive,” said Scott.
“Makes me glad I’ve got the parents I’ve got,” said Michael glumly.
“Do they know what happened to you?” Aunt Edith asked him.
“Are you kidding?” Michael asked in return.
A friendly waiter came along with plates of hors d’oeuvres for everybody, followed by a wine steward.
“Looks like you’re going to have a better meal here this time,” said Shawn to Karen.
Already, Shawn was looking like a nicer person than he was when the strange adventures began.
“Looks like it,” said Karen.
“You don’t need to run off and get anything for your train set, do you?” asked Karen.
“Actually,” Shawn replied, “I will have to go over to Morley’s after dinner and buy Roger his train set.”
“You can come with us if you want,” said Roger from the other side of Shawn.
“Thanks for the offer,” Karen replied, pleased to see a sign that Shawn cared about somebody else besides himself.
“I still don’t think that my regal status is receiving its due respect!” King Perezvon XXVI yelled at the other end of the table.
“Actually,” said Dornal in a loud voice, “I think the mayor of this town has given you even more than your due respect.”
“Daddy,” said Mona, “I think Mayor Ted has been nicer to you than you’ve been to him.”
“You’re making everything too complicated,” the king complained.
Those words brought to Karen’s mind the question that was nagging at her.
“Now that I’ve heard all the stories of what happened,” said Karen, “and now that we know that they didn’t get the light, but that Fenrir and the outlaws and others had gotten the light instead, why did we have to go through all the stuff we had to go through? Couldn’t they have just given us the light back to begin with?”
“Not really,” Fenrir growled.
“I suppose the crisis could have been solved in a simpler way,” said Uncle Martin.
“And it could just as well have been solved in an even more complicated way,” said Aunt Edith.
“Fenrir saved as much light as he could so that it would be there when somebody was ready to go and get it,” suggested Nigel.
“Besides, don’t you always have to go and get the light if you want it?” asked Edmund.
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“Things have calmed down in Milton, Pennsylvania since the town brightened up again,” Phil Carroway announced, “but the downtown area still looks like a Fantasy Land Theme Park.”
“It appears that the lighthouse and the fountain in the middle of Main Street are here to stay,” said Marcia Cummings.
“Just what we need,” Jack Bullinger grumbled as he took another swig of beer.
“No kidding,” said his apathetic wife.
The camera focused on a red-haired woman wearing a dark evening gown.
“Edith, do you think these two landmarks are going to remain where they are?” asked Phil.
“The lighthouse and the fountain were not placed here by human agency,” said the woman, “and they will not go away by human agency, either.”
“Do you mean to say this was an act of God?” asked Phil.
“I do not presume to know what activities are done directly by God and which are not,” Edith replied.
“Was it magic, then?” asked Phil.
Edith wrinkled her nose at the reporter.
“I cannot discuss these matters with a person who does not know how to discuss them,” she said with finality.
“We have here a new train station with an architectural design to end all architectural designs,” said Marcia, “and I will not be surprised if we see its picture on the front cover of a modern architecture magazine in a few months.”
“However,” said Phil, “we don’t know whether or not any more trains like the last one will come through here.”
“I’m tired of news,” said one of the children. “Can we change the channel?”
“SHUT UP!” Jack yelled.
“As for the pirate ship,” said Phil, “we asked one of the pirates if they expect it to stay here.”
The camera narrowed in on Captain Polly.
“What is your name, sir?” Phil asked.
“Captain Polly of the Twenty-Four Seas.”
“Captain Polly,” repeated the parrot on his shoulder.
“Are you in charge of this ship?”
“Of course I’m in charge, just like everybody else.”
“Everybody is in charge?”
“Everybody is in charge,” chirped the parrot.
“I said: everybody is in charge,” Captain Polly repeated with thinning patience.
“Do you expect to pull out of town, soon?” asked Phil.
“Are you in a hurry to get rid of us?” Captain Polly asked in return. “Aren’t there any people here with some excess jewelry that they would like to be relieved of?”
“We didn’t mean it that way,” said Marcia, “we were just wondering if there is a way that your ship can fly out of town the way it came in.”
“That depends on whether Gertrude the Walrus wants to fly us out,” said Captain Polly.
“Do you mean to say that you would allow a walrus to make a decision like that?” asked Phil.
“Of course we would allow a walrus to make a decision like that!” Captain Polly thundered. “If you don’t respect the intelligence of a walrus who holds up the world and can sew a pirate ship together after it got wrecked on a treasure island, you can walk the plank.”
The camera switched to a frame where the interviewers were standing on either side of Sheila Armstrong.
“Sheila Armstrong was among the children missing the past couple of days,” said Phil, “and it seems that she had quite an adventure while she was away. Isn’t that right, Sheila?”
“I guess it was an adventure,” Sheila replied. “I was walking along Main Street, then suddenly I was in a town I’d never seen before. I walked into a store where they sells lots of candles and the lady there made me take one and so I did. Then, I took a train ride with some friends and the train got wrecked, and then we rode on a turtle who holds up the world who took us to the Lost City.”
“Excuse me, Sheila,” said Phil, “but one of the pirates says that the walrus over at the ship holds up the world. If that is true, how can this turtle also hold up the world?”
“My friends said that Gertrude the Walrus holds up Humphrey the Bullfrog and he holds up Cornelius the Beetle and he holds up Bertha the Elephant and she holds up Sylvester the Turtle and Sylvester the Turtle is the one who gave me a ride. Then I got to ride the train again out of the Lost City and it took me here and the phoenix gave me a ride up to the lighthouse so I could put the candle there.”
“Well,” said Marcia, “that is quite an adventure. Do you expect anybody else to believe it?”
“No,” Sheila answered.
:Do you believe it?”
“I don’t know,” said Sheila, laughing uneasily.
The camera shifted to another frame where three boys wearing their torn-up black cassocks stood between Phil and Marcia.
“Here are three choirboys who were on the pirate ship,” said Phil. “Why did you take a pirate ship? Were you looking for adventure?”
“Of course we wanted an adventure!” said one of the boys as the name “Edmund” was flashed on the screen. “And we deserved it, too, because we were working hard on the Lost Mass of Christopher Tye.”
“Besides,” said Nigel, “these bad guys said they were going to steal all the light and then the light started to disappear, so we had to get it back. Kevin the Mapmaker helped us out by drawing a treasure map that had a buried treasure chest that had the stolen light inside it.”
“And that’s why we needed a pirate ship,” said Edmund, “because pirates are good at finding buried treasure when they have a treasure map.”
“My Great Aunt told me it wasn’t just those bad guys,” said Dennis. “She said the world broke apart and the light fell out. It’s a good thing that Fenrir swallowed up a lot of light before the bad guys got it, and then he could give the light back to us when we were ready for it.”
“Who is Fenrir?” asked Phil.
“Fenrir is the wolf that your stupid policeman tried to hurt when he was only trying to help everybody,” said Edmund.
“Well, you must admit that can’t expect a policeman to know that a wolf isn’t dangerous when he first sees it,” said Marcia.
“But everybody knows that Fenrir doesn’t hurt anybody!” Dennis cried.
“Did you find the treasure chest you were looking for?” Phil asked, obviously changing the subject.
“We sure did!” Edmund replied. “It was right where Kevin the Mapmaker marked it with a red X. We dug it up and brought it here on the ship.
“Was it this treasure chest that our police chief, Everett McAlister thought had a bomb in it?” asked Phil.
“What’s a bomb?” asked Nigel.
“Did you find any gold inside it?” asked Marcia.
“No, this train was inside it and it came out of the chest and stopped at the train station Kevin the Mapmaker drew for the Lost City.”
“Edmund and I were on the train,” said Nigel “with a lot of friends, among them Sheila the Music Finder who was carrying the candle we needed to bring back the light.”
“Can you explain how a train can be enclosed in a treasure chest?” asked Phil.
“It just was,” said Edmund with a shrug.
“How come you felt it was up to you to go save the light?” said Marcia. “Don’t you think it would have better if some grownups did something as important as that?”
“I’ll just say,” Nigel answered, “that anyone who sees that some light is missing should go out and try to find it again, or should stay home and wait real hard for those who go out to get it.”
The picture shifted once more to a frame where the mayor, Ted Sloane, was being interviewed.
“Do you have any idea how all of these houses and stores suddenly appeared in Milton?” Phil Carroway asked him.
“Not by referring to any of the laws of nature that I know about,” Ted replied.
“Has the Chamber of Commerce worked out how this sudden influx of business establishments, some of which seem not to accept money as we understand it, will effect the economy of this town?”
“I really think that there will be room for these commercial establishments that are new to us,” said Ted Sloane, “since the increase in population should provide a constituency for them. Actually, this should be quite an economic boost for Milton. Already, I’m seeing signs that these new developments will attract quite a tourist industry to this town.”
“Some people are already commenting that many of the people who have suddenly moved in to Milton are a bit odd,” said Phil. “Can you comment on that?”
“I have to admit that the new people I have met seem to have a different outlook on life than what I am used to,” Ted replied, “but I am impressed with the goodness of these people. I would like to remind you that one young person from among them proved himself a hero. At the risk of his life, he jumped a gunman who was aiming a pistol at somebody on Main Street.”
“This young hero,” said Marcia, “a boy named Roger—we don’t have his surname—has already been released from Milton Memorial Hospital after being treated for a scalp wound.”
The picture shifted to a shot of a choir of boys, wearing their torn-up cassocks, singing to the accompaniment of a harpist, a girl playing a pink toy piano, a boy with his head bandaged playing the violin and a red-haired boy playing his harmonica.
“Let us tune in now on a concert that this choir that came on the pirate ship is giving here on Main Street,” said Marcia. “As we have already had ample opportunity to hear, these boys are members of one of the best choirs we’ve ever heard. The boy with his head wrapped up is the boy who risked his life to save another that Mayor Ted Sloane was talking about.”
“That looks like Michael standing there in front of the choir,” said Janie.
“Yea, looks like it,” said Jack Bullinger. “I knew he’d be somewhere as long as it wasn’t in this house.”
“I don’t want to listen to this,” said Mary, Jack’s teen-age daughter.
“Then you can close your ears,” said Janie.
“Hey! Where’s Timmy?” asked Jack.
“He’s out playing with Jamie,” said Mary.
“We may never get to the bottom of mystery of what happened here,” said Phil Carroway over the choir’s singing. “Unbelievable as many of these events are, we not only have the video tapes to prove that they happened, but there is the new train station and the new shops and houses along with some pretty colorful new citizens in town to prove it as well. The one thing we can say for sure is that Milton, Pennsylvania will never be the same again.”
THE END