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Tuck Everlasting, Chapters 12-17

Author: Natalie Babbitt

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12

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The sky was a ragged blaze of red and pink and orange, and its double trembled on the surface of the pond like color spilled from a paintbox. The sun was dropping fast now, a soft red sliding egg yolk, and already to the east there was a darkening to purple. Winnie, newly brave with her thoughts of being rescued, climbed boldly into the rowboat. The hard heels of her buttoned boots made a hollow banging sound against its wet boards, loud in the warm and breathless quiet. Across the pond a bullfrog spoke a deep note of warning. Tuck climbed in, too, pushing off, and, settling the oars into their locks, dipped them into the silty bottom in one strong pull. The rowboat slipped from the bank then, silently, and glided out, tall water grasses whispering away from its sides, releasing it.

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Nov 5
Tatiana Myrick (Nov 05 2015 11:38AM) : winnie dosent drink the water
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Feb 27
Alex Nunez (Feb 27 2019 2:17PM) : this book is great
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May 7
Jaquavion Nau (May 07 2019 1:45PM) : horrible chapters more

winnie will tell who was the author

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Jun 11
Molly Wilemon (Jun 11 2019 10:23AM) : Not being mean but I think you need to add more. But your answer is fine but add more =!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Nov 5
Shakira Pineda (Nov 05 2015 12:41PM) : the sky was a ragged blaze of red and pink and orange. more

it was a beautiful sight.

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Oct 19
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 19 2015 3:09PM) : the sky ragged of red and pink and orange more

so what type of sky is it?\({OVO})/

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Nov 5
Tatiana Myrick (Nov 05 2015 11:37AM) : its like that at noon when the sun is going down,
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Oct 20
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 20 2015 11:17AM) : sun dropping fast more

the sun dose not drop at all if it did we will all be dead

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Oct 21
Devon Minix (Oct 21 2015 10:10AM) : that true more

that true factz

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Feb 27
Jonathan Marcano (Feb 27 2019 2:18PM) : milk more

i like chocolate milk

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Oct 19
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 19 2015 12:13PM) : This about the whether more

This about Mae being scaring

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Oct 20
Tatiana Myrick (Oct 20 2015 11:28AM) : -SCARED NOT SCARING UNLESS YOU SAY:MAE WAS SCARED BECAUSE SHE KNEW THAT SHE WAS SCARING WINNIE.
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Nov 6
Carson Rives (Nov 06 2018 2:18PM) : Do not be a baby
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Nov 6
Carson Rives (Nov 06 2018 2:18PM) : Do not be a big baby [Edited]
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Oct 20
Tatiana Myrick (Oct 20 2015 11:12AM) : Tuck took Winnie to the pond.
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Here and there the still surface of the water dimpled, and bright rings spread noiselessly and vanished. "Feeding time," said Tuck softly. And Winnie, looking down, saw hosts of tiny insects skittering and skating on the surface. "Best time of all for fishing," he said, "when they come up to feed."

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Nov 5
Shakira Pineda (Nov 05 2015 12:46PM) : the stil surface of the water dimpled and bright rings. more

noiselessly vanished. winnie looked down and saw hosts of tiny insects.

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Oct 20
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 20 2015 11:10AM) : insects skittering and scattering on the surface more

i would flipped out if their were insects were on the surface in my house \(o_o)/

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Oct 21
Devon Minix (Oct 21 2015 10:16AM) : why more

Why you would flipped out if there were insert in your house.Is you scared of insert.

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Oct 21
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 21 2015 10:21AM) : wait i would call a exterminator [Edited] more

yea an exterminator \(^v^)/
and i am not scared

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He dragged on the oars. The rowboat slowed and began to drift gently toward the farthest end of the pond. It was so quiet that Winnie almost jumped when the bullfrog spoke again. And then, from the tall pines and birches that ringed the pond, a wood thrush caroled. The silver notes were pure and clear and lovely.

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"Know what that is, all around us, Winnie?" said Tuck, his voice low. "Life. Moving, growing, changing, never the same two minutes together. This water, you look out at it every morning, and it looks the same, but it ain't. All night long it's been moving, coming in through the stream back there to the west, slipping out through the stream down east here, always quiet, always new, moving on. You can't hardly see the current,
can you? And sometimes the wind makes it look like it's going the other way. But it's always there, the water's
always moving on, and someday, after a long while, it comes to the ocean."

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They drifted in silence for a time. The bullfrog spoke again, and from behind them, far back in some reedy, secret place, another bullfrog answered. In the fading light, the trees along the banks were slowly losing their dimensions, flattening into silhouettes clipped from black paper and pasted to the paling sky. The voice of a different frog, hoarser and not so deep, croaked from the nearest bank.

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"Know what happens then?" said Tuck. "To the water? The sun sucks some of it up right out of the ocean and carries it back in clouds, and then it rains, and the rain falls into the stream, and the stream keeps moving on, taking it all back again. It's a wheel, Winnie. Everything's a wheel, turning and turning, never stopping. The frogs is part of it, and the bugs, and the fish, and the wood thrush, too. And people. But never the same ones. Always coming in new, always growing and changing, and always moving on. That's the way it's supposed to be. That's the way it is."

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Nov 27
Ms. Jordyn Vetro (Nov 27 2019 10:29PM) : can i get a hoyyy yahh
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Mar 10
FuriouspotatoSANS ok (Mar 10 2020 7:25PM) : No
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Mar 10
FuriouspotatoSANS ok (Mar 10 2020 7:26PM) : Hoyyy yahh more

Did I confuse you

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Oct 22
Kamari Williams (Oct 22 2015 3:14PM) : they are talking about how,what happens to the water. more

they are saying how the sun in the sky sucks some of the water right out of the ocean and then puts it right back.

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The rowboat had drifted at last to the end of the pond, but now its bow bumped into the rotting branches of a fallen tree that thrust thick fingers into the water. And though the current pulled at it, dragging its stern sidewise, the boat was wedged and could not follow. The water slipped past it, out between clumps of reeds and brambles, and gurgled down a narrow bed, over stones and pebbles, foaming a little, moving swiftly now after its slow trip between the pond's wide banks. And, farther down, Winnie could see that it hurried into a curve, around a leaning willow, and disappeared.

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"It goes on," Tuck repeated, "to the ocean. But this rowboat now, it's stuck. If we didn't move it out ourself, it would stay here forever, trying to get loose, but stuck. That's what us Tucks are, Winnie. Stuck so's we can't move on. We ain't part of the wheel no more. Dropped off, Winnie. Left behind. And everywhere around us, things is moving and growing and changing. You, for instance. A child now, but someday a woman. And after that, moving on to make room for the new children."

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Winnie blinked, and all at once her mind was drowned with understanding of what he was saying. For she—yes, even she—would go out of the world willy-nilly someday. Just go out, like the flame of a candle, and no use protesting. It was a certainty. She would try very hard not to think of it, but sometimes, as now, it would be forced upon her. She raged against it, helpless and insulted, and blurted at last, "I don't want to die."

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Oct 20
Kamari Williams (Oct 20 2015 11:08AM) : Winnie is saying someday she will go out to the world. more

i think it’s good for her because she can get out into the big world

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Oct 22
Devon Minix (Oct 22 2015 3:23PM) : I think too more

I think she need to go out to see some of the thing they do out there.So she could have fun.But I think she should come home after she exprience the world.

"No," said Tuck calmly. "Not now. Your time's not now. But dying's part of the wheel, right there next to being born. You can't pick out the pieces you like and leave the rest. Being part of the whole thing, that's the blessing. But it's passing us by, us Tucks. Living's heavy work, but off to one side, the way we are, it's useless, too. It don't make sense. If I knowed how to climb back on the wheel, I'd do it in a minute. You can't have living without dying. So you can't call it living, what we got. We just are, we just be, like rocks beside the road."

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Tuck's voice was rough now, and Winnie, amazed, sat rigid. No one had ever talked to her of things like this before. "I want to grow again," he said fiercely, "and change. And if that means I got to move on at the end of it, then I want that, too. Listen, Winnie, it's something you don't find out how you feel until afterwards. If people knowed about the spring down there in Treegap, they'd all come running like pigs to slops. They'd trample each other, trying to get some of that water. That'd be bad enough, but afterwards—can you imagine? All the little ones little forever, all the old ones old forever. Can you picture what that means? Forever? The wheel would keep on going round, the water rolling by to the ocean, but the people would've turned into nothing but rocks by the side of the road. 'Cause they wouldn't know till after, and then it'd be too late." He peered at her, and Winnie saw that his face was pinched with the effort of explaining. "Do you see, now, child? Do you understand? Oh, Lord, I just got to make you understand!"

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There was a long, long moment of silence. Winnie, struggling with the anguish of all these things, could only sit hunched and numb, the sound of the water rolling in her ears. It was black and silky now; it lapped at the sides of the rowboat and hurried on around them into the stream.

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And then, down the length of the pond, a voice rang out. It was Miles, and every word, across the water, came clearly to their ears. "Pa! Pa, come back! Something's happened, Pa. The horse is gone. Can you hear me? Someone's stole the horse."

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Oct 22
Kamari Williams (Oct 22 2015 3:23PM) : the length of the pond miles yelled somebody toke the horse pa. more

i think they were pretty mad because if he was yelling that loud it must have been for a good reason SOMEBODY TOOK THEIR HORSE!!!!!!!!!!!

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13

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Sometime later, the man in the yellow suit slipped down from the saddle and tied the Tucks' old horse to a bar of the Fosters' fence. He tried the gate. It was unlocked. He pushed through and strode up the path to the door of the cottage. Though it was very late now, almost midnight, the windows glowed golden: the family had not gone to bed. The man in the yellow suit took off his hat and smoothed his hair with long white fingers. Then he knocked at the door. It was opened at once by Winnie's grandmother, and before she could speak, the man said quickly, "Ah! Good evening! May I come in? I have happy news for you. I know where they've taken the little girl."

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Oct 19
Precious Archibald (Oct 19 2015 12:16PM) : What I think is going on is paragraph is the man in the yellow suit was going to the Foster's house to tell them good news but before he went in he fixed hair then went on the door step and Winnie's grandma opened the door and told her the good news. [Edited] more

I think Winnie’s grandmother was happy and sad at the same time because Winnie is missing and happy because the guy in the yellow suit knows who took Winnie so I believe she has mixed feels bout her grand-daughter being missing.

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Oct 19
Kamari Williams (Oct 19 2015 3:21PM) : precious i think u did a really good job with the work
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Oct 20
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 20 2015 11:05AM) : Good job precious more

U did good

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Oct 20
Devon Minix (Oct 20 2015 11:25AM) : good job more

good job precious

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Oct 19
Devon Minix (Oct 19 2015 3:23PM) : The summary is about the man telling Winnie grandmother he know where they taken the little girl.I think it is about the man going to the fence to get the horse. more

I think it is intresting because it is going to have more idea.I think this book is intresting because when it is in the book it get more stuff.The book get intresting when you go deep in the book.If I was Winnie I would of been mad,scared,and I would try to ecsape.

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Oct 26
Devon Minix (Oct 26 2015 3:22PM) : The summary is about the man telling Winnie grandmother he know where they taken the little girl.I think it is about the man going to the fence to get the horse. more

I think it is intresting because it is going to have more idea.I think this book is intresting because when it is in the book it get in the book.

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Jun 3
SCOOT scout abood (Jun 03 2019 7:13PM) : anyone know what the plan of the yellow guy is? more

So you know how the guy turns up with a plan.. WHAT IS IT THIS IS SOOO BORING AND I DOT KNOW WHAT IT IS. Pls send help

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Oct 20
Devon Minix (Oct 20 2015 11:21AM) : someone stolen something more

Someone had stolen the horse from the fence.

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Oct 19
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 19 2015 12:15PM) : It is about the stranger going over the fence more

I think that is crazy because it is a fence

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Oct 19
Kamari Williams (Oct 19 2015 12:14PM) : what i think is going on in the paragraph is that Winnie's grandmother met the old man in the yellow suit and he wanted to come in so she let him in and all he wanted to say to her was oh how the tuck's Winnie and he knew where they took her. more

i think her grandmother felt upset because they took her granddaughter away somewhere out the woods nowhere to be found so i think Winnie’s grandmother was upset.this was important because what if they would have took her somewhere out of the blue and she would have got hurt her grandmother would been responsible for it.so i think it’s important to always tell the parent or gaurdeing where your taking there child.

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Oct 19
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 19 2015 3:01PM) : That is right because it started to happen more

I think that because u r right

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Oct 20
Devon Minix (Oct 20 2015 11:28AM) : i think that is tue more

I think it happen in the story too.

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Oct 20
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 20 2015 11:23AM) : were they taken the little girl more

sometimes i wonder why the man in the yellow suit did not save winnie from the tucks

14

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There had been nothing for the Tucks to do but go to bed. It was too dark now to go out looking for the horse thief, and anyway, they had no idea when he had done his thieving or which way he had gone.

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Oct 19
Precious Archibald (Oct 19 2015 3:19PM) : what i think is going on in this paragraph is,a theif is coming around and stoped at the tucks home and stole their horse and it was dark outside so they dont know who stole the horse and there was no witnesses to see the horse being kidnapped. more

i think the tuck’s was upset because some one took there horse even though the horse was very old i think it ment a lot to the tucks they used that horse to go to the treegap in the woods so i belive they want there horse back from the theif

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Oct 19
Kamari Williams (Oct 19 2015 3:22PM) : u are right they were very upset that he took the horse
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Oct 20
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 20 2015 11:28AM) : the tucks had nothing to do but go to sleep. more

that is the world i want to live in because all you do is eat and sleep

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Oct 19
Kamari Williams (Oct 19 2015 3:14PM) : what i think is going on in this paragraph is that there is a thief going around and it hit the tuck's house by taking their horse and he did that because it was dark and wasn't anybody in sight to witness more

what i think the tuck’s felt was pain because they always used the horse to go place’s like treegap that’s in the woods or another place in the woods.i think it’s important because what if miles and jesse needed to go back to the woods with Winnie they would need a horse or something to ride and the thief stole the horse.

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Oct 19
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 19 2015 3:15PM) : that is happen in the story
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Oct 20
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 20 2015 11:33AM) : looking for the horse thief more

wow back then it must been very long ago because stealing a horse is like stealing a car in the 1800

"That beats all, though, don't it, Pa," said Jesse, "coming up to a person's house and stealing their horse right out from under their nose!"

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"I got to give you that," said Tuck. "But the question is, was it just some ordinary thief, or was it someone that had some special reason? I don't like it. I got a bad feeling about the whole thing."

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"Hush now, Tuck," said Mae. She was spreading a quilt on the old sofa, making it into a bed for Winnie. "You're too much of a worrier. There's nothing we can do about it now, so there's no sense fussing. You got no reason to think there's anything peculiar about it, anyway. Come on, we'll get a good night's sleep and figure it out in the morning when we're fresh. Boys, up you go, and don't get talking—you'll keep us awake. Winnie, child, you bed down, too. You'll sleep first-rate on the sofa here."

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Oct 20
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 20 2015 11:12AM) : It was a good paragragh more

I think it was a perfect story for now

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Oct 20
Devon Minix (Oct 20 2015 11:33AM) : I think too more

I think the story is good because when it get in the book it start getting intresting,like when it get deep in the book it start getting good.

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Oct 19
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 19 2015 12:15PM) : They was trying to find the horse thief more

I think they should find the horse thief

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Oct 20
Kamari Williams (Oct 20 2015 11:19AM) : they should more

so they betta catch him

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Oct 20
Tatiana Myrick (Oct 20 2015 11:31AM) : THEY DIDN'T HAVE TIME.
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Oct 22
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 22 2015 3:00PM) : but they need the horse to find winnie
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But Winnie did not sleep at all, not for a long, long time. The cushions of the sofa were remarkably lumpy and smelled like old newspapers; and the chair pad Mae had given her for a pillow was thin and hard, and rough under her cheek. But far worse than this was the fact that she was still in her clothes, for she had firmly refused the offer of Mae's spare nightgown, with its seeming miles of faded cotton flannel. Only her own nightgown would do, and the regular bedtime routine; without them, she was painfully lonely for home. Her joy on the road that morning had completely disappeared; the wide world shrank and her oldest fears rolled freely in her consciousness. It was unbelievable that she should be in this place; it was an outrage. But she was helpless to do anything about it, helpless to control it, and exhausted by the conversation in the rowboat.

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Was it true? Could they really never die, these Tucks? It had evidently not occurred to them that she might not believe it. They were only concerned that she keep the secret. Well, she did not believe it. It was nonsense. Wasn't it? Well, wasn't it?

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Winnie's head whirled. Remembering the man in the yellow suit was the only thing that kept her from weeping. "He's told them by now," she thought, rehearsing it. "They've been looking for me for hours. But they don't know where to look! No. The man saw which way we were headed. Papa will find me. They're out looking for me right now."

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She went over it again and again, lying wrapped in the quilt, while outside the moon rose, turning the pond to silver. There was a hint of mist, now that the air was cooler, and the frogs talked comfortably. Crickets soon joined in with their shrill, rhythmic song. In the table drawer, the mouse rustled softly, enjoying the supper of flapjack crumbs Mae had put there for him. And at last these things were clearer in Winnie's ears than the voice of her thoughts. She began to relax, listening to the sound-filled silence. Then, just as she was drifting into sleep, she heard soft footsteps and Mae was beside her. "You resting easy, child?" she whispered.

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"I'm all right, thank you," said Winnie.

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"I'm sorry about everything," said Mae. "I just didn't know no other way but to bring you back with us. I know it ain't very happy for you here, but . . . well . . . anyway, you have a good talk with Tuck?" "I guess so," said Winnie.

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"That's good. Well. I'm going back to bed. Get a good sleep." "All right," said Winnie.

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But still Mae lingered. "We been alone so long," she said at last, "I guess we don't know how to do with visitors. But still and all, it's a good feeling, you being here with us. I wish you was . . . ours." She put out an awkward hand then and touched Winnie's hair. "Well," she said, "good night."

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Oct 20
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 20 2015 11:20AM) : She inger the person more

that is good

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"Good night," said Winnie.

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Tuck came, too, a little later, to peer down at her anxiously. He was wearing a long white nightshirt and his hair was rumpled. "Oh!" he said. "You still awake? Everything all right?"

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"Yes," said Winnie.

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"I didn't mean to go disturbing you," he said. "But I been laying in there thinking I ought to be setting out here with you till you went to sleep."

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"You don't have to do that," said Winnie, surprised and touched. "I'm all right."

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He looked uncertain. "Well . . . but if you want something, will you holler? I'm just in the next room—I'd be out here like a shot." And then he added, gruffly, "It's been quite a time since we had a natural, growing child in the house . . ." His voice trailed off. "Well. Try to get some sleep. That sofa there, I guess it ain't the kind of thing you're used to."

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"It's fine," said Winnie.

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"The bed's no better, or I'd switch with you," he said. He didn't seem to know how to finish the conversation. But then he bent and kissed her quickly on the cheek, and was gone.

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Winnie lay with her eyes wide. She felt cared for and—confused. And all at once she wondered what would happen to the Tucks when her father came. What would he do to them? She would never be able to explain how they had been with her, how they made her feel. She remembered guiltily that at supper she had decided they were criminals. Well, but they were. And yet. . .

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And then a final visitor made her confusion complete. There was a creaking on the loft stairs and Jesse was looking down at her, very beautiful and eager in the faint blue moonlight. "Hey, Winnie Foster," he whispered. "You asleep?"

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This time she sat up, pulling the quilt around her in sudden embarrassment, and answered, "No, not yet."

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"Well then, listen." He knelt beside her, his curls tumbled and his eyes wide. "I been thinking it over. Pa's right about you having to keep the secret. It's not hard to see why. But the thing is, you knowing about the water already, and living right next to it so's you could go there any time, well, listen, how'd it be if you was to wait till you're seventeen, same age as me—heck, that's only six years off—and then you could go and drink some, and then you could go away with me! We could get married, even. That'd be pretty good, wouldn't it! We could have a grand old time, go all around the world, see everything. Listen, Ma and Pa and Miles, they don't know how to enjoy it, what we got. Why, heck, Winnie, life's to enjoy yourself, isn't it? What else is it good for? That's what I say. And you and me, we could have a good time that never, never stopped. Wouldn't that be something?"

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Once more Winnie adored him, kneeling there beside her in the moonlight. He wasn't crazy. How could he be? He was just—amazing. But she was struck dumb. All she could do was stare at him.

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"You think on it, Winnie Foster," Jesse whispered earnestly. "Think on it some and see if it don't sound good. Anyway, I'll see you in the morning. All right?"

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"All right," she managed to whisper in return. He slipped away then, back up the creaking steps, but Winnie sat upright, wide awake, her cheeks burning. She could not deal with this remarkable suggestion, she could not "think on it." For she didn't know what to believe about anything. She lay down again, finally, and stared into the moonlight for another half an hour before she fell asleep.

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15

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In Treegap, the same moonlight silvered the roof of the touch-me-not cottage, but inside, the lamps were burning. "That's right," said the man in the yellow suit. "I know where she is." He sat back in his chair in the Fosters' spotless parlor, crossing his long, thin legs, and the suspended foot began a rhythmic jiggling. He hung his hat on his knee and smiled, his eyes nearly closed. "I followed them, you see. She's with them now. As soon as I saw they'd arrived at their destination, I turned around and came directly back. I thought you'd be staying up. You've been looking for her all day, of course. It must be quite a worry."

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He lifted a hand then, ignoring their exclamations, and began to smooth the thin hairs of his beard. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I've come a long way, looking for a wood exactly like the one you've got next door here. It would mean a great deal to me to own it. And how pleasant to have neighbors like yourselves! Now, understand, I wouldn't cut down many of the trees. I'm no barbarian, you can see that. No, just a few. You wouldn't find it different at all, really." He gestured with his long, white fingers and smiled, his face crinkling pleasantly. "We'd be good friends, I think. Why, the little girl and I, we're friends already. It would be a great relief to see her safely home again, wouldn't it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Dreadful thing, kidnapping. Isn't it fortunate that I was a witness! Why, without me, you might never have heard a word. They're rough country people, the ones that took her. There's just no telling what illiterates like that might do. Yes," he sighed, lifting his eyebrows and smiling again, "it looks as if I'm the only person in the whole world who knows where to find her."

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And then the man in the yellow suit sat forward. His long face took on a hard expression. "Now, I don't have to spell things out for people like yourselves. Some types one comes across can't seem to cut their way through any problem, and that does make things difficult. But you, I don't have to explain the situation to you. I've got what you want, and you've got what I want. Of course, you might find that child without me, but . . . you might not find her in time. So: I want the wood and you want the child. It's a trade. A simple, clear-cut trade."

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He looked around at the three shocked faces, and as if he were seeing nothing there but calm agreement, he smiled delightedly and rubbed his hands together. "Done and done," he said. "I knew right away, I said to myself, 'Now here is a group of intelligent, reasonable people!' I'm seldom wrong as a judge of character. Very seldom disappointed. So! All that remains is to write it up on paper, giving me the wood, and to sign it.

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It's best, don't you agree, to keep things legal and tidy. The rest is easy. Nothing to it. You go for your local constable, and he and I ride out and bring back the child and the criminals. No—oh, no, Mr. Foster—I understand your concern, but you mustn't come along. We'll do this business my way. There now! Your terrible ordeal is as good as over, isn't it? I'm so thankful I was here to help you out!"

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16

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The constable was fat, and he was sleepy. He wheezed when he spoke. And he spoke quite a bit as they started off, he and the man in the yellow suit. "First they roust me out of bed in the middle of the night, after I been out since sun-up looking for that child, and now I s'pose you're going to try to run me all the way," he said sourly. "I got to tell you this horse of mine is none too strong. I don't have to hurry her as a rule, so most of the time it don't matter. Seems to me we could've waited till dawn, anyway."

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The man in the yellow suit was as courteous as always. "The Fosters have been waiting since yesterday morning," he pointed out. "Naturally, they're very upset. The sooner we get there, the sooner that child will be with them again."

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"How come you're so deep in it?" asked the constable suspiciously. "Maybe you're in cahoots with the kidnappers, how do I know? You should of reported it right off, when you saw her get snatched."

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The man in the yellow suit sighed. "But of course I had to find out where they were taking her," he explained patiently. "I came right back after that. And the Fosters are friends of mine. They've—uh—sold me their wood."

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The constable's eyes went round. "I'll be!" he said. "What do you know about that! I didn't suppose they'd ever do a thing like that, friend or no friend. They're the first family around here, you know. Proud as peacocks, all of 'em. Family-proud, and land-proud, too. But they sold off, did they? Well, well." And he whistled in amazement.

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They thumped along in silence for a while, out around the wood and across the star-lit meadow. Then the constable yawned deeply and said, "You ready to tell me how long this is going to take? How far we got to go?"

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Oct 19
Jaylen Hostos (Oct 19 2015 3:23PM) : Mae she was a good person more

It might be good

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Oct 20
Kamari Williams (Oct 20 2015 11:12AM) : what might be good more

what might be good

"Twenty miles north," said the man in the yellow suit.

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The constable groaned. "Twenty miles!" He shifted the shotgun that rested across his saddle, and groaned again. "Clear up in the foothills? That's a fair way, all right."

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There was no reply to this. The constable ran his fingers down the gleaming barrel of the shotgun. Then he shrugged, and slumped a little in the saddle. "Might as well relax," he wheezed, suddenly companionable. "We'll be riding three, four hours."

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Still there was no reply.

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"Yessir," said the constable, trying again. "It's something new for these parts, kidnapping. Never had a case like this before that I know of, and I been in charge going on fifteen years."

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He waited.

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"You don't say so," his companion said at last.

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"Yep, that's a fact," said the constable, with evident relief. Maybe now there would be some conversation! "Yep, fifteen years. Seen a lot of trouble in fifteen years, but nothing quite like this. 'Course, there's a first time for everything, as they say. We got a brand-new jailhouse, did you notice? Listen, it's a dandy! Give those folks nice clean accommodations." He chuckled. "'Course, they won't be there long. Circuit judge'll be
coming through next week. He'll send 'em over to Charleyville, most likely, to the county jail. That's what they do for your serious crimes. 'Course, we got a gallows of our own, if we ever need it. Keeps down trouble, I think, just having it there. Ain't ever used it yet. That's because they take care of the serious stuff over to Charleyville, like I say."

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The constable paused to light a cigar, and went on cheerfully: "What you got planned for that piece of Foster land? Going to clear her? Put up a house, or a store, maybe?"

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"No," said the man in the yellow suit.

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The constable waited for more, but there was no more. His sour mood returned. He frowned and shook the ashes from his cigar. "Say," he said. "You're kind of a close-lipped feller, ain't you?"

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The man in the yellow suit narrowed his eyes. His mouth, above the thin gray beard, twitched with annoyance. "Look here," he said tightly. "Would you mind if I rode on ahead? I'm worried about that child. I'll tell you how to get there, and I'll go on ahead and keep watch."

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"Well," said the constable grudgingly, "all right, if you're in such a ding-danged hurry. But don't do nothing till I get there. Those folks are likely dangerous. I'll try to keep up, but this horse of mine, she's none too strong. Don't see as how I could get her to a gallop, even if I tried."

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"That's right," said the man in the yellow suit. "So I'll go on ahead, and wait outside the house till you get there."

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He explained the route carefully, then dug his heels into the flanks of the fat old horse, cantering off into the darkness where just a hint of dawn glowed on the edges of the hills far ahead.

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The constable chewed on the end of his cigar. "Humph," he said to his horse. "Did you get a gander at that suit of clothes? Oh, well, it takes all kinds, as they say." And he followed slowly after, yawning, the gap between him and the man ahead lengthening with every mile.

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17

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For the second morning in a row, Winnie Foster woke early. Outside, in the ring of trees around the pond, the birds were celebrating, giving the new day a brass band's worth of greeting. Winnie freed herself from the twisted quilt and went to a window. Mist lay on the surface of the water, and the light was still pale. It looked unreal, and she felt, herself, unreal, waking where she had, with her hair wild and her dress all crumpled. She rubbed her eyes. Through the dewy weeds below the window, a toad hopped suddenly into view and Winnie peered at it eagerly. But no—of course it wasn't the same toad. And remembering that other toad—her toad, she thought now, almost fondly—it seemed to her that she had been away from home for weeks. Then she heard a step on the loft stairs and thought, "Jesse!" At once her cheeks flamed.

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But it was Miles. He came into the parlor, and when he saw that she was up, he smiled and whispered, "Good! You're awake. Come on—you can help me catch some fish for breakfast."

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Oct 20
Kamari Williams (Oct 20 2015 11:14AM) : miles was hungry more

he asked if winnie was awake and she was and he said to come fishing with her

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Oct 22
Abraham Villanueva (Oct 22 2015 3:04PM) : or miles wanted to go fishing more

maybe miles wanted someone to go fishing with

This time, Winnie was careful not to make a noise when she climbed into the rowboat. She made her way to her seat in the stern, and Miles handed her two old cane poles—"Watch out for the hooks!" he warned—and a jar of bait: pork fat cut into little pieces. A big brown night moth fluttered out from under the oar blades propped beside her on the seat, and wobbled off toward nowhere through the fragrant air. And from the bank, something plopped into the water. A frog! Winnie caught just a glimpse of it as it scissored away from shore. The water was so clear that she could see tiny brown fish near the bottom, flicking this way and that.

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Feb 4
John Fijo Emmatty (Feb 04 2020 8:14PM) : noises more

what kind of noises?????

BRB

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Miles pushed the rowboat off and sprang in, and soon they were gliding up toward the near end of the pond, where the water came in from the stream. The locks grated as the oars dipped and swung, but Miles was skillful. He rowed without a single splash. The dripping from the blades, as they lifted, sent rows of overlapping circles spreading silently behind them. It was very peaceful. "They'll take me home today," thought Winnie. She was somehow certain of this, and began to feel quite cheerful. She had been kidnapped, but nothing bad had happened, and now it was almost over. Now, remembering the visits of the night before, she smiled—and found that she loved them, this most peculiar family. They were her friends, after all. And hers alone.

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"How'd you sleep?" Miles asked her. "All right," she said.

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"That's good. I'm glad. Ever been fishing before?" "No," she told him.

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"You'll like it. It's fun." And he smiled at her.

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The mist was lifting now, as the sun poked up above the trees, and the water sparkled. Miles guided the rowboat near a spot where lily pads lay like upturned palms on the surface. "We'll let her drift some here," he said. "There'll be trout down in those weeds and stems. Here—give me the poles and I'll bait the hooks for us."

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Winnie sat watching him as he worked. His face was like Jesse's, and yet not like. It was thinner, without Jesse's rounded cheeks, and paler, and his hair was almost straight, clipped neatly below the ears. His hands were different, too, the fingers thicker, the skin scrubbed-looking, but black at the knuckles and under the nails. Winnie remembered then that he worked sometimes as a blacksmith, and indeed his shoulders, under his threadbare shirt, were broad and muscled. He looked solid, like an oar, whereas Jesse—well, she decided, Jesse was like water: thin, and quick.

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Miles seemed to sense that she was watching him. He looked up from the bait jar and his eyes, returning her gaze, were soft. "Remember I told you I had two children?" he asked. "Well, one of 'em was a girl. I took her fishing, too." His face clouded then, and he shook his head. "Her name was Anna. Lord, how sweet she was, that child! It's queer to think she'd be close to eighty now, if she's even still alive. And my son—he'd be
eighty-two."

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Winnie looked at his young, strong face, and after a moment she said, "Why didn't you take them to the spring and give them some of the special water?"

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"Well, of course, we didn't realize about the spring while we was still on the farm," said Miles. "Afterwards, I thought about going to find them. I wanted to, heaven knows. But, Winnie, how'd it have been if I had? My wife was nearly forty by then. And the children—well, what was the use? They'd have been near growed theirselves. They'd have had a pa close to the same age they was. No, it'd all have been so mixed up and peculiar, it just wouldn't have worked. Then Pa, he was dead-set against it, anyway. The fewer people know about the spring, he says, the fewer there are to tell about it. Here—here's your pole. Just ease the hook down in the water. You'll know when you get a bite."

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Winnie clutched her pole, sitting sidewise in the stern, and watched the baited hook sink slowly down. A dragonfly, a brilliant blue jewel, darted up and paused over the lily pads, then swung up and away. From the nearest bank, a bullfrog spoke.

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"There certainly are a lot of frogs around here," Winnie observed.

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"That's so," said Miles. "They'll keep coming, too, long as the turtles stay away. Snappers, now, they'll eat a frog soon as look at him."

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Winnie thought about this peril to the frogs, and sighed. "It'd be nice," she said, "if nothing ever had to die." "Well, now, I don't know," said Miles. "If you think on it, you come to see there'd be so many creatures, including people, we'd all be squeezed in right up next to each other before long."

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Winnie squinted at her fishing line and tried to picture a teeming world. "Mmm," she said, "yes, I guess you're right."

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Suddenly the cane pole jerked in her hands and bent into an arch, its tip dragged down nearly to the water's surface. Winnie held on tight to the handle, her eyes wide.

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"Hey!" cried Miles. "Look there! You got a bite. Fresh trout for breakfast, Winnie."

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But just as suddenly the pole whipped straight again and the line went slack. "Shucks," said Miles. "It got away."

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"I'm kind of glad," Winnie admitted, easing her rigid grip on the butt of the pole. "You fish, Miles. I'm not so sure I want to."

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And so they drifted for a little longer. The sky was blue and hard now, the last of the mist dissolved, and the sun, stepping higher above the trees, was hot on Winnie's back. The first week of August was reasserting itself after a good night's sleep. It would be another searing day.

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A mosquito appeared and sat down on Winnie's knee. She slapped at it absently, thinking about what Miles had said. If all the mosquitoes lived forever—and if they kept on having babies!—it would be terrible. The Tucks were right. It was best if no one knew about the spring, including the mosquitoes. She would keep the secret. She looked at Miles, and then she asked him, "What will you do, if you've got so much time?"

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