The most annoying aspect of school, even worse than Mitchell Blunt as far as Mabel was concerned, was that it kept her from accompanying her father on all his magazine-related trips. She scrambled ahead of Van on the well-trampled path through the woods until it ended at the edge of an expansive grassy field. Ahead of them, the Shooting Star had bumped in for a landing, and it now taxied along a dirt runway, raising clouds of dust until it rattled to a halt.<\/p>\n
\n\tWhere once, in its World War II fighting days, the small airplane\u2019s sides had been solid silver, Peter Crockett had installed three porthole windows per side, to give passengers a view. Mrs. Crockett had also embellished the plane, with an all-over mural of rain forest vines and leaves where birds and animals peeked out through breaks in the foliage. Now, as the Star glinted bronze in the afternoon sunlight, it looked as though it had crashed through the jungle, picking up riders on its way.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWhere\u2019d…he go?\u201d asked Van, puffing as he caught up with Mabel in the field.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cPeru,\u201d she replied, \u201che\u2019s doing an article called \u2018A Week in the Canopy.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe bubble-window hatch at the top of the Star flipped up, and Mr. Crockett eased himself out of the cockpit and onto the wing. He hopped to the ground just in time for all ninety pounds of Mabel to leap onto his back and send him staggering. <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYow!\u201d he cried, swinging her around and onto her feet. \u201cYou\u2019ve just landed on someone who hasn\u2019t used his legs in five hours.\u201d <\/p>\n
\n\tLeaning against the Star, he pushed sandy hair out of his eyes and let out a deep breath. \u201cThose,\u201d he said, \u201cwere some of the finest trees I\u2019ve ever slept in. You and I are going to have to take your mother there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYou slept in a tree?\u201d asked Van.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cIn a hammock in a tree,\u201d replied Mr. Crockett. \u201cActually, in a hammock, in a treehouse, in a tree, to be specific.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tIt was clear from Van\u2019s expression that he found the idea unappealing.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cIt was wonderful,\u201d continued Mr. Crockett, undaunted by Van\u2019s lack of enthusiasm. \u201cNothing over me but treetops, birds, and stars. Oh, and sometimes monkeys.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tVan considered this for a moment. \u201cI don\u2019t think,\u201d he said, \u201cthat I could get much sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWell, I would,\u201d said Mabel, knowing it to be the truth. Nothing made her happier than traveling with her father. <\/p>\n
\n\tSuddenly, Mabel cocked her head and cast a suspicious gaze at the Star. \u201cDad,\u201d she said, \u201cthere\u2019s a really weird noise coming from the plane.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tWhat had started as a quiet scratching and tiny whine escalated into a shrieking warble.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cyir, yir, yar, YIRRRRR!\u201d came an insistent cry from the passenger hold. Then a rhythmic and determined banging.
\n\tVan stared at the plane incredulously.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cUh, Mr. Crockett,\u201d he said. \u201cI think one of those treetop things stowed away in there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel tugged on her father\u2019s arm and pulled him toward the Star.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cGo on, Dad,\u201d she urged. \u201cWhatever it is, get it out!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYou know what?\u201d said Mr. Crockett, with a mischievous grin. \u201cI think it wants out!\u201d He hoisted himself onto the wing, and back through the hatch, disappearing behind the pilot\u2019s seat. A duffel bag flew out of the cockpit, followed by a sack of dirty laundry. Mabel dodged the first, and Van managed to catch the second. <\/p>\n
\n\tMoments later, Mr. Crockett popped up again and knowingly said, \u201cAha!\u201d He climbed down with a wooden box, about one foot square. Two of the sides were wire mesh, and the top opened with a hinge.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cOkay,\u201d cautioned Mr. Crockett, as he unlatched and lifted the lid. \u201cThis little guy is sort of unpredictable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYar?\u201d came a quiet voice from inside the box. \u201cYiroo?\u201d There was a rustling, then a walnut-sized face peered over the edge of the box. Mabel had scarcely seen it when, in a louder voice, the thing called out, \u201cYiirrrooo!\u201d and bounced, as if spring-loaded, from the box, landing delicately on her head. For a moment it seemed to be swinging from her braid, but it very quickly scampered underneath to a more protected position under her hair. <\/p>\n
\n\tMabel froze in place, and looked questioningly ather father. \u201cOkay Dad…what is that, a bat?\u201d she asked. <\/p>\n
\n\tShaking his head, Mr. Crockett said, \u201cIt\u2019s actually, believe it or not, some sort of elf–a dark elf, I\u2019m told.\u201d His voice was meant to sound reassuring, but Mabel would have been more comfortable, she was sure, with a bat in her hair. <\/p>\n
\n\tVan eyed Mabel\u2019s hair suspiciously. \u201cWhat\u2019s so dark about it?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cOh,\u201d said Mr. Crockett, \u201ca dark elf\u2019s a kind, like a dalmatian\u2019s a kind of dog. Apparently there are quite a few different types. This kind likes enclosed places, and avoids direct daylight.\u201d He lifted Mabel\u2019s braid. \u201cLet\u2019s see where that little guy went.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe dark elf was clinging fiercely to Mabel\u2019s hair, and it required both of Mr. Crockett\u2019s hands to disengage it. He gently held it in his cupped hands so Mabel and Van could get a look. <\/p>\n
\n\tThe elf first glared at Mr. Crockett, then gazed longingly at Mabel\u2019s head. Its tiny face, which at the moment wore a disgruntled expression, was startling blend of human and animal qualities. The expressive brown eyes had an Asian slant, the nose was sloping and fox-like, but the mouth surprised Mable the most with its human-like flexibility.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWow,\u201d breathed Van. \u201cIt\u2019s a little brown fox guy. No, wait, it\u2019s a little pinkish fox guy. Okay, that\u2019s weird.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tAnd it was. Mabel and Van were certain Mr. Crockett had pulled a brown elf out of Mabel\u2019s hair, but the creature they now looked at was identical in color to Mr. Crockett\u2019s hands.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cThey\u2019re like chameleons,\u201d explained Mr. Crockett. \u201cThey assume the color of their surroundings for camouflage.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe dark elf fixed its eyes on Mabel\u2019s and said, in a very quiet voice, \u201crrraaart?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tWhatever nervousness she had felt melted away and she gently scooped it out of her father\u2019s hands and nestled it against her jacket. The elf\u2019s expression became unquestionably content, and it promptly changed color to denim blue.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYeah,\u201d said Mr. Crocket, although no one had asked him a question. \u201cIt just sort of dropped out of a tree into my lunch one day. The folks there told me that would only happen if it had lost its group. It\u2019s sort of like orphaned. They said, \u2018Congratulations, Mr. C…you\u2019ve got yourself a dark elf.\u2019 So I wiped the mashed potatoes off him, and he\u2019s been with me ever since.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cIt\u2019s a him?\u201d asked Van.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWell, I don\u2019t know,\u201d replied Mr. Crockett. \u201cThey say it\u2019s almost impossible to tell. I\u2019m thinking you two ought to take him to Halfslip\u2019s and see if he likes it there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel nodded. \u201cThat\u2019s about as close to rain forest as he\u2019s gonna get around here,\u201d she said. <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cListen,\u201d said Mr. Crockett, \u201cI\u2019m going to go check in with your Mom, and then I have some plant samples to bring to the center, so why don\u2019t I meet you over there in a little while?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel felt around for the dark elf, who had discovered a comfortable pocket on the inside of her jacket, and said, \u201cOkay Dad. We\u2019ll see you at Halfslip\u2019s.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tA beat-up blue pickup truck waited at the edge of the airfield. As Mr. Crockett loaded its bed with equipment from the Star, Mabel and Van headed for a dirt road running along the field\u2019s northern boundary.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYou know,\u201d said Van, as he and Mabel hiked the short distance to the Halfslips\u2019 place, \u201cyou might want to think about something like a cat or a dog.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel could see from Van\u2019s expression that he was teasing her about the elf in her pocket.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cGreat idea!\u201d she replied, in exaggerated amazement. \u201cBut don\u2019t worry about this thing becoming a pet. I think he\u2019s going to be living at Halfslip\u2019s. Hey, look out for the car…I mean…van.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tAnd, uh-oh, she thought to herself, as she realized the vehicle slowing down beside them belonged to Verdon Arbogast. <\/p>\n
\n\tArbogast stopped and rolled down his window. \u201cWell, hello Barbie and Ken…or is it Van Peale and Mabel Crockett?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel stopped and manufactured a smile. \u201cHi,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\n\tVan nodded.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYou seem to be heading east, like me. Can I offer you a lift? I\u2019m going to Rocky Creek.\u201d Arbogast smiled winningly. He seemed earnest, and Mabel felt her reservations about him warm slightly.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cNo thank you,\u201d she answered. \u201cWe\u2019re almost where we\u2019re going…ooh!\u201d <\/p>\n
\n\tThe exclamation came as the dark elf under her jacket quickly climbed, in a very tickly way, to the top and peeked out over her collar. He began to shake his head slowly back and forth, and made a noise which sounded like a verbal reprimand.<\/p>\n
\n\tArbogast did not seem to have noticed the elf. He had turned to the passenger seat to his right and seemed to be rummaging through papers. Papers which moments later began swirling around the interior of the van. <\/p>\n
\n\tA powerful gust of wind knocked Mabel forward two steps. Van covered his eyes as a flurry of leaves swished by his face. The elf had taken refuge back in Mabel\u2019s jacket pocket. <\/p>\n
\n\tMabel had scarcely regained her balance when, with an enormous crash, something pelted the front of the green van. It was a branch, and a large one at that. A long-dead branch, covered with moss, mud, and decayed leaves. It looked as if it had been dredged out of the river bottom, and it clattered to the ground leaving a spidery crack in the van\u2019s windshield. <\/p>\n
\n\tThe wind\u2019s force diminished as quickly as it had appeared. Arbogast had exclaimed loudly, as if in argument, but now he was collecting himself and his papers. He turned back toward Van and Mabel, extending a manila envelope out the window toward Mabel.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cI would like you to take this to your father,\u201d said Arbogast. He smiled at her as she reached for the envelope, but his eyes were cold, and a little desperate. \u201cPerhaps it will help us get reacquainted.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel tucked the envelope under her arm. \u201cYou know my father?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n
\n\tArbogast smiled again, this time with blankness in his narrow eyes. \u201cWe go way, way back.\u201d He returned his attention to the road, pulled the van off the shoulder, and drove away.<\/p>\n
\n\tVan watched as Arbogast\u2019s vehicle disappeared, and shook his head. \u201cThat\u2019s bizarre,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s almost as if he expected to get whomped by a branch.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cCould you hear what he was yelling?\u201d asked Mabel.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYeah, I think so,\u201d answered Van. \u201cBut it didn\u2019t make any sense. I think he said, \u2018You don\u2019t own me, Jenny.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cNaw, you\u2019re right, that doesn\u2019t make sense,\u201d Mabel agreed. \u201cMaybe he said, \u2018could you loan me a penny?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cOr,\u201d said Van, \u201c\u2018Would you phone Henny Penny?\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThey looked at each other and giggled.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWhat\u2019s in the envelope?\u201d asked Van.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cIt\u2019s not sealed, we can look,\u201d Mabel responded. She reached inside and pulled out a black and white photograph. Van grasped a corner and looked at it with her.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cHey,\u201d said Van, \u201cit\u2019s our new best friend, Mr. Arbogast. With…someone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe photograph was old. Its paper backing was discolored, and it had been bent in several places. The picture was of two young men, working at a table. They were very young, possibly teenagers, but the narrow-eyed, curly-haired subject on the left was unmistakably Verdon Arbogast.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cAnd the other guy is…\u201d began Mabel, \u201c…I don\u2019t know, but there\u2019s something really familiar about him. It\u2019s like I\u2019ve seen this guy before but…I have no idea where.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe young man in the photo wore a serious, but pleasant expression. His hair was dark, and somewhat mussed. High cheekbones, fair skin, freckles. Mabel rummaged through her brain for a hind at why he was familiar. <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cLet me see that,\u201d said Van, grabbing the photo out of Mabel\u2019s hands. He held it in one hand, and covered part of the picture with his fingers. \u201cOkay, look.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel looked again. Van\u2019s index finger covered the unidentified young man\u2019s hair, so only a bit showed over his forehead. The odd sensation that she knew him was even stronger. <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cOkay,\u201d said Van, \u201cnow imagine there\u2019s a long braid of hair going down his back.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel looked at the picture with wide eyes, then stared at Van.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cIt\u2019s you,\u201d he said simply.<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel looked at the photo again, then hastily returned it to the envelope. \u201cCan\u2019t be me, Van,\u201d she said. \u201cI\u2019m not that old, I\u2019m not a boy, and this picture\u2019s gotta be at least thirty years old. But maybe Dad knows. And, if we don\u2019t get a move on, he\u2019s going to get to Halfslips\u2019 before we do.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tA five minute walk later, the road turned sharply to the left. Opposite the turn, on Mabel and Van\u2019s right, a narrow drive wound uphill, through the pine trees. A colorfully painted wooden sign marked the beginning of the drive. Next to a carved logo of a single pear were the words, \u201cHalfslip Center for Botanical Research.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel and Van hurried up the drive. The most impressive sight to anyone who had not previously visited the center, and invisible until one reached the top of the hill, were the greenhouses. Three large, rectangular, glass buildings, built over a complex skeleton of stainless steel rods, stood as proud sentinels overlooking a campus of smaller, windowed buildings, and one contemporary cedar ranch house. Several cars, and a golf cart, were parked in a small lot in the center of the complex, and occasionally a researcher in a white lab coat scuttled from one building to another. <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cLet\u2019s find Ivy,\u201d suggested Van, turning toward the house. Mabel skipped ahead and knocked on the front door.<\/p>\n
\n\tThey heard light footsteps, and the door swung open.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cJust in time,\u201d said Ivy, \u201cfor some green stuff! Come in! Mom, more victims!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tAs Mabel and Van stepped inside, Ivy\u2019s mother, Mary Halfslip, called from the kitchen. \u201cI don\u2019t think it will do them much good, but you\u2019re not getting away that easily.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tIvy made a disgusted face, and led the way back to the kitchen. Mrs. Halfslip had her back to the counter, and her arms folded. Unlike Ivy, who looked a little pale today, Mrs. Halfslip\u2019s complexion was coffee colored, and her dark hair was twisted into tiny little knots all over her head. She picked up a glass full of green liquid and held it out toward Ivy.<\/p>\n
\n\tIvy took the glass, held her nose, and swigged it in one breath.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cAh,\u201d she said. \u201cNothing like the daily dose of liquid grass clippings.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cIt\u2019s minerals,\u201d explained Mrs. Halfslip. \u201cAnd vitamins. Ivy\u2019s got a little cold or something today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYeah,\u201d said Mabel, \u201cI can tell. You\u2019re looking a little, um, less…\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cGreen,\u201d said Mrs. Halfslip, finishing Mabel\u2019s thought. \u201cIt\u2019s a very healthy, natural color for someone of Ivy\u2019s ancestry.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tIvy made no secret of the fact that she was adopted, that Mary and Porter Halfslip had been unable to have children on their own, and that they\u2019d been her parents since she was the tiniest of infants. And clearly, it had turned out to be a good match, as Ivy was completely in her element around the greenhouses. She knew more about botany than any kid, or any adult for that matter, whom Mabel knew. Between Ivy and her botany, and Van\u2019s interest in human biology, Mabel figured her next best friend would have to be an English expert, just to round out her study-help team.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cExcuse me, kids,\u201d Mrs. Halfslip said to catch their attention, as they turned toward the front door. \u201cSomebody forgot his or her monkey.\u201d She pointed toward the kitchen table. Ivy\u2019s glass, emptied of all but a few drops, was overturned, and the dark elf, halfway in it on hands and knees, was sticking his fingers in the remaining liquid and licking them off.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cOh, the poor little guy!\u201d exclaimed Mabel. \u201cI didn\u2019t even feel him climb out of my pocket! He must be hungry.\u201d <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cMrs. Halfslip,\u201d said Van. \u201cThat\u2019s not a monkey, that\u2019s a dark elf. Mabel\u2019s dad brought him back from Peru hoping her could live here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cOh,\u201d replied Mrs. Halfslip. \u201cInteresting. I guess we do owe Peter a favor for all the plant samples. Try greenhouse three. It\u2019s the most tropical.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cHey,\u201d said Ivy, pouring cereal into a paper cup. \u201cGive him some Cheerios. Everybody likes Cheerios.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe elf scrambled onto Mabel\u2019s outstretched arm, and eagerly reached for the paper cup Ivy offered. \u201cYar, yaroo,\u201d he said, settling into the crook of Mabel\u2019s elbow, with the cup between his legs. He picked up a Cheerio, examined it intently, sniffed it, and began to nibble.<\/p>\n
\n\tIt was obvious from the moment Mabel, Van and Ivy stepped into greenhouse three, that the dark elf was becoming excited. He began to look around and chirp quietly. Then he pulled himself to Mabel\u2019s shoulder and stood on his feet. <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cHe likes it here,\u201d said Ivy, as the elf looked around. Lush, healthy plants grew densely, filling the entire greenhouse, while narrow walkways allowed access between clusters of foliage.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWhere\u2019d he go?\u201d asked Van, staring at Mabel\u2019s shoulder. Mabel quickly put her hand to her shoulder and wondered, with slight panic, if the elf had fallen off. After all, he\u2019d fallen into her father\u2019s lunch. Maybe he had poor balance. <\/p>\n
\n\tHer worry disappeared when a tiny hand, green this time, reached from a palm tree growing over her head and motioned toward the paper cup, in which a few Cheerios remained.<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel laughed and handed over the cup, which quickly disappeared into the dense foliage.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cWhat should we call him?\u201d asked Van.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cUm…Buster,\u201d said Mabel. \u201cUntil you can think of something better.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cHey, Dad,\u201d Ivy called to a man planting ferns at the far side of the greenhouse. Porter Halfslip looked up and grinned at his daughter. Brown eyes twinkled behind horn-rimmed glasses, and his black hair puffed about his head in an untamed ball. <\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cDad,\u201d Ivy continued, \u201cif you encounter something small and elf-like around the greenhouse, don\u2019t worry about it–it\u2019s only Buster.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tNext to Porter, an older man looked up. Parker Halfslip, working beside his son, could have been Porter\u2019s twin, apart from his more wrinkled complexion, and his hair, which was gray and cropped close to his head.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cSo,\u201d said Parker, fixing his gaze on Mabel. \u201cPeter\u2019s bringing us more treats from the rainforest, and they\u2019re not all plants.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cDon\u2019t worry, Mr. Halfslip,\u201d Mabel assured him. \u201cI think Buster will be very easy to get along with. Oh…hi Mr. Halfslip!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThis time she was not addressing either Porter or Parker, but a third man, who was sitting around the corner in a lawn chair, carefully patting dirt around the base of a fern. Norton Halfslip, Parker\u2019s father, had founded the botanical center fifty years earlier. Now, shrunken and hunched with age, he rarely spoke, but he did an awful lot of smiling and nodding. Mabel approached him and gently stroked the fronds of the plant he was working with.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cI love jerfinias,\u201d Mabel said, bending down toward Norton to be certain he could hear her. \u201cI\u2019m not sure why, but they\u2019re my favorite plants here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe fern Norton was presently tending was one among a thick cluster marked by a small stake in the dirt which said \u201cHuperzia jerfinium.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel brushed her hand along the soft tops of a group of jerfinias. Then she carefully turned a frond to look at its underside.
\n\t\u201cThe brown spots, Ivy…\u201d she said, \u201c…they\u2019re called?\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cSori,\u201d Ivy answered. \u201cThey\u2019re spore cases. Ferns don\u2019t produce seeds like most plants–they reproduce by creating spores, and when the frond dries out the sporangia break open and release spores which grow into a new plant under the right conditions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tVan continued, \u201cand without the right conditions…\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cThe spore will last,\u201d said Ivy, \u201cfor a long, long time. Until it finds the right conditions.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel smiled, released the frond, and again ran her hand over the feathery cluster. \u201cThey\u2019re cool,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\n\tNorton Halfslip looked at Mabel with a yellow toothy smile. His eyes sparkled behind bifocals which were slipping down his nose, and his face reminded Mabel of a walnut. As usual, he said nothing. Then, unexpectedly, he ran his fingers along the brown sori, as Mabel had, and grasped her hand in both of his. It seemed to Mabel that he wanted to communicate something to her, but, since he didn\u2019t speak, she didn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cHey guys,\u201d called a woman\u2019s voice from across the greenhouse. Mrs. Halfslip had entered along with Peter Crockett. \u201cPeter\u2019s brought some great stuff. Look at this Blechnum…and a Rauwolfia we haven\u2019t had before.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cI don\u2019t think anyone\u2019s had it before,\u201d added Mr. Crockett. He set the large pallet of samples down on a potting table. \u201cMabel, we need to scoot. I told Van\u2019s folks I\u2019d drop him off too.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tAs Mabel climbed into the cab of the blue pickup truck, after Mr. Crockett and Van, she realized she\u2019d carried a small potting trowel out of the greenhouse with her.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cHang on, Dad,\u201d she said. \u201cLet me run and stick this in the shed.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tA small cedar-clad square building, with its door ajar, stood beside greenhouse three. Mabel pushed the door further and entered, replacing the trowel on a pegboard wall, covered with hooks. As she turned to leave, she heard a slight rustling toward the rear of the shed.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cI\u2019m glad you came,\u201d said a voice, only it seemed to Mabel that she was not hearing with her ears, but perceiving the voice in some other way.<\/p>\n
\n\tWith slight apprehension, she walked the ten feet to the back of the shed. A pile of burlap, used for bundling root balls of saplings, had been padded down into a makeshift nest. In the nest, looking up at her with what Mabel was certain was a smile, was Sparkle.<\/p>\n
\n\tSparkle thumped her wiry white tail and gently nosed a little lump beside her which Mabel had not noticed. It was a wiggling little pink lump, with the barest hint of white, brown, and black markings.<\/p>\n
\n\tMr. Crockett and Van appeared in the doorway.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cLook,\u201d whispered Mabel. \u201cSparkle has a puppy!\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The most annoying aspect of school, even worse than Mitchell Blunt as far as Mabel was concerned, was that it kept her from accompanying her father on all his magazine-related trips. She scrambled ahead of Van on the well-trampled path through the woods until it ended at the edge of an expansive grassy field. Ahead […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[8],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/260"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=260"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/260\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":264,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/260\/revisions\/264"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=260"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=260"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=260"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}