\u201cI\u2019m worried about Ivy,\u201d said Mabel. She sank into the unoccupied schoolbus seat next to Van as the bus lurched away from the curb.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cShe\u2019ll be okay,\u201d Van reassured her. \u201cEverybody gets sick and misses school once in a while.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cYeah,\u201d said Mabel, not feeling very reassured at all. \u201cAnyway,\u201d she continued, \u201cI\u2019ve got a homework packet for her so she won\u2019t get too far behind.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tThe bus made its west side rounds, then jiggled its way across the Willibunk River bridge. Van climbed off at his usual stop, but when the bus stopped in front of O\u2019Boyle\u2019s, Mabel did not get off with the Bumpers and Ricky Fairweather. Holly Bumper, who liked to make sure everything was just so, gave her a questioning look, then shrugged and disembarked when Mabel indicated that she had some papers for Ivy Halfslip. The bus then squeaked and leaned, turning onto Rocky Creek Road. Mabel stood as the driver approached the sign at the base of the botanical center driveway, and he stopped to let her off.<\/p>\n
\n\tShe wondered if Ivy was even feeling well enough to contend with a math worksheet, but reminded herself that, for Ivy anyway, math worksheets didn\u2019t require a great deal of effort.<\/p>\n
\n\tThere was the sound of gravel being ground and spit from beneath the tires of a rapidly moving vehicle. Mabel quickly jumped off the drive and into the bushes in time to see a blocky pink car roar up the hill beside her. The car screeched to a halt, throwing more stones behind it, then backed up in a series of rapid jerks. The driver\u2019s window lowered.<\/p>\n
\n\t\u201cLittle girl!\u201d scolded a woman whose face was barely visible beneath her makeup. Her hair was frosted into stripes of blonde and dark brown, and teased into a beehive hairdo which brushed the ceiling of her car. \u201cThis is not a place for children! There are government operatives at work as we speak! Go home!\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel nodded, and took a step backward. The woman, seemingly satisfied that her instructions were being heeded, spun her tires and roared up the remainder of the driveway.<\/p>\n
\n\tMabel stood and blinked for a moment. Who was that and what was happening at the botanical center? She decided the best thing to do would be to find out for herself, as long as she could avoid being spotted by the lady in the pink car. She climbed the second half of the hill through the trees at the side of the driveway. When she reached the top, she crouched behind a boxwood hedge and looked across the parking area, with a growing, gut-wrenching sense of dread. <\/p>\n
\n\tPorter Halfslip was walking out of Greenhouse 1, flanked by two trenchcoated agents. Porter looked across the parking lot toward a DIS car, where Mary and Parker stood together, with two more agents. Porter\u2019s hands were behind his back, and it wasn\u2019t until he and the agents had crossed the parking lot that Mabel could see the reason. He was handcuffed. Mabel felt sick. <\/p>\n
\n\tThe door to Greenhouse 3 creaked loudly. Reynolds Manderley strode across the parking lot speaking quietly into a handheld dictaphone.<\/p>\n
\n\tI hate him,<\/em> Mabel thought to herself. Patience has to hate him too. She has too.<\/em><\/p>\n \n\t\u201cWhere\u2019s the child?\u201d barked the lady with the beehive, who had gotten out of her pink car. Then, in a sweeter voice she added, \u201ca little girl, I think?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cIt\u2019s alright,\u201d said Manderley. \u201cShe\u2019s going to stay here with her great-grandfather.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cNorton Halfslip?\u201d said Boots. \u201cIsn\u2019t he involved in this operation?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cHe\u2019s too old, and he can\u2019t even talk,\u201d said the short, bald agent. \u201cEven if he\u2019s had anything to do with growing the contraband plants, he\u2019s too out of it to know what he\u2019s doing.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tMabel bristled. The stupid agent knew nothing about Norton Halfslip.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cToo old?\u201d said the beehive lady. \u201cOut of it, you say? Yet you\u2019d leave a child in his care?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cThey\u2019ll be fine,\u201d interjected Mary Halfslip. \u201cNorton is quite capable of caring for a child.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cI see,\u201d said Ms. Beehive, eyeing her suspiciously. \u201cWell, we\u2019ll just have to see about that, won\u2019t we?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tThe three Halfslips were hastily ushered into a DIS vehicle, which began to pull out of the parking lot, followed by the other two sedans, and the pink car.<\/p>\n \n\tMabel felt sick and hot and flushed and confused. She remembered her father\u2019s words assuring her that it was all a mistake and everything would be fine. Dad, she thought. I need Dad. She tore down the hill through the woods, not minding the brambles and branches in her way. The woods opened onto the airfield. There was the Shooting Star, just cleaned and buffed by her father, and ready for its next flight. Mabel did not stop. Her lungs ached, but she raced across the airfield and dashed through the path to her backyard.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cMom!\u201d she yelled. \u201cDad!\u201d They were not in the house. She ran through the garden and into the back door of the press office.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cMabelina,\u201d called Paulo, \u201cMabelina, wait, you must wait here!\u201d Paulo looked upset, shaky, and caffeine-addled. He was carrying papers which piece by piece were spilling from his arms onto the press room floor.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cWhere are my parents, Paulo?\u201d Mabel demanded.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cMabelina, they\u2019re not here…wait Mabelina, you need to wait!\u201d He dropped the rest of the papers. \u201cOkay, don\u2019t wait, I wouldn\u2019t either.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tMabel barely heard Paulo\u2019s last few words. She had bolted through the front door of the press office and, as hastily as possible, crossed the street. She hurdled several piles of bricks in front of the Fairweathers\u2019 and dodged around the fruit kiosk in front of the grocery store. <\/p>\n \n\tMabel was only vaguely aware of people scuttling out of her way as she tore single-mindedly toward the co-op, until one did not step aside and she ran smack into him. The collision nearly sent her spinning into the railing at the foot of the Willibunk River bridge and she had no idea whether she was about to hit the ground or the sky when a pair of firm and grasping hands placed her in an upright position.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cAre things going poorly, then, Miss Crockett?\u201d sneered Verdon Arbogast, loosening his grip slightly.<\/p>\n \n\tMabel wrenched herself free of his grasp and glared at him loathingly.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cNever…come near me…again!\u201d she rasped.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cOh!\u201d Arbogast exclaimed. He took a step backwards and assumed an injured expression. \u201cI\u2019m so sorry you feel that way. But I understand. Things are getting a little out of hand around here.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tMabel\u2019s head began to clear and she took a step back toward the sidewalk.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cMy offer still stands, you know,\u201d Arbogast said. His expression darkened. \u201cI can help you. We can help each other.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cWhat do you want?\u201d said Mabel, stepping farther away.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cYour father, silly,\u201d he replied. It came out as a snarl. \u201cYou know how to find him. I know they told you.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cWho told me?\u201d asked Mabel.<\/p>\n \n\tArbogast looked darker, angry and desperate. He closed in and clamped a hand around Mabel\u2019s arm. \u201cThe dryads,\u201d he said unsteadily. \u201cThe bloody…Stinking…DRYADS!\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tArbogast\u2019s grip was tight, and he looked almost rabid. Mabel twisted and yanked herself free, then ran across the foot of the bridge without checking for traffic or looking back. River water splashed at her heals as she ran. The door to Mona Lisa\u2019s was within her reach, and she pulled it open and hurried inside. <\/p>\n \n\tIt was a different world in the gallery. Plants were thriving, chamber music was gently playing, diners were relaxing over a meal. Van waved from the base of the stairway down the hall.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cMabel,\u201d he said, \u201cyou don\u2019t look so good. What\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cWhere\u2019s your dad, Van?\u201d she answered. \u201cWe need your parents. Mine are gone.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tVan looked confused, but motioned toward the dining room. \u201cHe\u2019s in there,\u201d he said, \u201cand look who he\u2019s with.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tAt a corner table, Noah Peale was handing menus to two seated customers.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cI am deeply honored,\u201d said Tim Tutter, \u201cthat you would join me this evening, Miss Penny.\u201d He smiled a charming but, in Mabel\u2019s estimate, insincere smile.<\/p>\n \n\tMiss Penny chuckled and waved her hand at him. \u201cAnything for a good meal, hon,\u201d she said. \u201cAnd they cook pretty good here.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cKarla will be serving you this evening,\u201d said Mr. Peale, before he turned toward Van and Mabel in the gallery. His large brow furrowed with concern when he saw Mabel, scratched, shaken and disheveled, and he gently ushered the children away from the gallery and into the more private hallway.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cWhat happened, Mabel? Are you alright?\u201d Mr. Peale put an arm around her shoulders, and she took several deep breaths so as not to cry.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cThey…took the Halfslips…in their cars,\u201d said Mabel chokily.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cTook?\u201d asked Mr. Peale.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cArrested,\u201d continued Mabel. \u201cWith handcuffs…and I don\u2019t know where my parents are…something happened.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cOkay…alright…,\u201d said Mr. Peale, thinking out loud. \u201cWe\u2019ll need to find a good lawyer…maybe Henders Upshaw…\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tRamon walked through the front door, visibly concerned. \u201cNoah…\u201d he began.<\/p>\n \n\tMr. Peale cut him off. \u201cRamon, can you host for a while?\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cYes…but I was going to say that…\u201d Ramon stopped suddenly and looked back at the door. It opened abruptly, almost as if kicked, and in marched four DIS agents, wearing utterly no-nonsense expressions. Reynolds Manderley brought up the rear, then pushed to the front of the group.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cAre you Noah Peale, proprietor of this restaurant?\u201d asked Manderley.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cYes I am,\u201d responded Mr. Peale gently, \u201cbut I think you already knew that.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cPlease stay where you are sir,\u201d instructed Manderley, \u201cand have someone send for your wife Sonja Peale.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cRamon?\u201d said Mr. Peale, nodding toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n \n\tRamon nodded uncertainly and left the room. A few moments later, he reappeared with Mrs. Peale, just as Patience came down the stairs. Pleasure at the sight of Manderley lit her face fleetingly before being replaced by fear and confusion.<\/p>\n \n\tMabel looked at Manderley, perceiving that he was aware of Patience in his peripheral visual field. Something agonizingly painful registered on his face until he snuffed it, with a great swallow and straightening of his shoulders. He turned to the Peales.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cNoah and Sonja Peale, you are under arrest on suspicion of the purveyance of illegal botanical substances…\u201d <\/p>\n \n\tManderley continued to prattle for several more minutes about rights and legalities. Mabel\u2019s head began to pound. Van looked stricken. Patience clung to Ramon who had stepped toward her protectively.<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cThis is Mrs. Pilderjack,\u201d said Boots, as the lady from the pink car stepped into the restaurant lobby. \u201cShe is a social worker who will be seeing to the safety of the children.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cHello, children,\u201d said Mrs. Pilderjack to Mabel and Van. Her voice was grotesquely syrupy. \u201cAnd you must be little Mabel. Well, with your parents in federal custody you will need someone to look after you. That\u2019s my job.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cThey can stay here,\u201d said Ramon. \u201cThere are plenty of adults here they know.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tMrs. Pilderjack smiled at him condescendingly. \u201cI\u2019m afraid that\u2019s impossible,\u201d she said, \u201cuntil their parents have filled out the proper release forms.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\t\u201cGive me the paperwork,\u201d said Mr. Peale. \u201cI\u2019ll sign it now.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tMrs. Pilderjack looked up at him and shook her head as if she couldn\u2019t imagine such a peculiar human being. \u201cIt can\u2019t be done here,\u201d she snapped. \u201cChildren, please follow me.\u201d<\/p>\n \n\tBoots and the bald agent snapped handcuffs onto the wrists of Mr. and Mrs. Peale and gestured toward the front door.<\/p>\n \n\tMrs. Peale nodded at Van and Mabel reassuringly. \u201cIt\u2019ll be okay,\u201d she said, \u201cjust do as they ask for now.\u201d Then she and Mr. Peale exited the restaurant in the center of the cluster of trenchcoated agents.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cI\u2019m worried about Ivy,\u201d said Mabel. She sank into the unoccupied schoolbus seat next to Van as the bus lurched away from the curb. \u201cShe\u2019ll be okay,\u201d Van reassured her. \u201cEverybody gets sick and misses school once in a while.\u201d \u201cYeah,\u201d said Mabel, not feeling very reassured at all. \u201cAnyway,\u201d she continued, \u201cI\u2019ve got a […]<\/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\/288"}],"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=288"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/288\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":289,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/288\/revisions\/289"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=288"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=288"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.emilygillespieclement.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=288"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}