The magic of the second.., p.9
The Magic of the Second Backyard, page 9
“Keep trying!” said Captain Magpie. “You’ll get it!”
Cassidy bit her lip and concentrated. Her eye watched the balloon twitch and bounce. It billowed and then spun. Cassidy took a deep breath. She held her breath. She leaned and reached. Her hand snapped closed, and she leaned back…
A noisy crinkle of the balloon meant she stood tall and stable with the mylar balloon in her grasp, still on the deck of the flying ship. Cassidy beamed.
“Let me see! Let me see!” Captain Magpie held a fishhook in his wing, the perfect tool for attaching it to his hat. Cassidy tugged the balloon open to show the treasure and stopped when she read the text: Thinking of You.
Someone is thinking of me, she thought as she wondered where the balloon came from. Who could send her messages in Wonderland? Did it come from above the clouds? Cassidy felt a pang of solace rereading the words. Could the magic be strong enough to send messages from her grandparents?
Cassidy reflected on how her grandparents smiled when they gave her presents on her birthday. Even though her grandparents were generous, the gifts were usually clothes and weren’t entertaining. Cassidy couldn’t remember what the clothes were now, but she did remember the giant smiles that appeared again and again as she held up each item across herself. They had loved her. Cassidy remembered her mom saying the clothes were their way of letting her get dirt on the knees of her pants. She didn’t have to worry about looking pretty every day. Some days they wore messy ponytails and didn’t worry about getting sunscreen on their sandals. Cassidy loved her grandparents, and she would miss them.
Cassidy imagined this memory as a branch of love roots like she was watering them. Thinking of you, she half-smiled. She would remember to tell her mom about the message from her grandparents.
The magpie waited patiently for Cassidy to hand him the balloon. She did now. He beamed, enthusiastic about the prize. He threaded the balloon into his hat with the sharp hook. Pinned and folded like a fan on the hat, only a few visible letters spelled “Toy.” Cassidy laughed.
“Onward!” exclaimed Captain Magpie, returning to the wheel. “Let’s find more amazing things!”
The Spectacle Squirrel
Cassidy and Captain Magpie continued their search, coasting among the clouds. They dipped up and down in the sky, Captain Magpie driving the flying ship in nonsense zigzags. Cassidy continued to use her hand telescope and kept one eye closed.
Below, Cassidy saw a pile of pinecones. They were stacked in a familiar way. It looks like the wall I made, she thought. She twisted her hand like she was adjusting the zoom on her telescope. There! Round glass reflected a flash of sunlight. Was it a magnifying glass? Then, Cassidy saw something move! Something fluffy had disappeared behind the pinecones!
“What was that?” Cassidy asked Captain Magpie. Captain Magpie used his own feathered hand telescope to peer at where she pointed at the tower of pinecones.
“Oh! A squirrel!” said Captain Magpie, pulling at the wheel. “Squirrels are good at finding things. Let’s see what this one has found!”
He steered the ship towards the pinecone fort. From above, Cassidy could see the outer wall of pinecones and a row of roofed houses marking a main street. They coasted down, then dipped below the tall wall and landed just outside the fort. As the ship melded into the ground, Cassidy opened both eyes. Thankfully, she had survived the air journey!
Looking at the snowy wonderland again, Cassidy marveled at the immense wall made of hundreds of pinecones crammed together. Ahead of them, the entrance was a giant archway without a gate that welcomed them into town.
Except the snowy village was empty. Cassidy walked under the archway and straight into the middle of the square.
It was quiet like the occupants were waiting for a shootout. The abandoned street was lined with stones. Rustic cabins with walls made of mudded pinecones kept the draft and riffraff out. Aspen leaf shades covered window openings. Some buildings were missing roofs, and others had thatched pine needle roofs like the chickadee houses.
Cassidy thought it was magical, but did anyone live here? She didn’t see anything more with one eye closed either. She looked back to see if Captain Magpie was following. “Where is everyone?” she asked.
“Hiding and finding, apparently!” replied the magpie, shrugging.
Then, Cassidy heard someone making a ruckus. In one corner, against the pinecone wall, dirt was flying from a hole in the ground. Cassidy walked over to it, careful to not get too close. The hole was big! It was as tall as Cassidy was. And in the bottom of the hole was a squirrel, just as the magpie predicted.
“Hello,” Cassidy said. The squirrel wore different colored socks, one blue-green plaid and one striped orange and white.
“Hello,” echoed Captain Magpie.
“Go away!” cried the squirrel.
“What are you doing?” Cassidy asked. She wasn’t going to go away. She just got here!
“It’s mine! I found it!”
“What did you find?” asked Captain Magpie.
“If you found it, why are you burying it?” Cassidy asked.
“Because that’s what squirrels do,” the squirrel sassed back.
“Why do squirrels bury what they’ve found?”
“You don’t know?” The squirrel seemed annoyed by her question.
“Well, I’m not a squirrel.”
The squirrel stopped digging and looked up at her. The squirrel was wearing spectacles with giant thick rims. They didn’t fit, and Cassidy wondered if the squirrel had found those too. The squirrel flicked its tail twice as it sized up Cassidy.
“I suppose you aren’t a squirrel, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to take what I have.”
“What do you have?” asked Captain Magpie. He was pacing the hole’s edge, trying to peek at what the squirrel had.
“You have a big hole. How deep are you digging?” Cassidy tried to be friendly.
“I don’t know. Maybe until I reach the other side,” the squirrel lied.
“The other side? You’re going to dig all the way to the other side of the world?” Cassidy didn’t like how this creature kept rudely dismissing her. The squirrel ignored her question and turned its back to resume digging. “I know a better way to the other side. I came through the fence,” Cassidy suggested.
The squirrel’s muttered response came between fits of dirt, and Cassidy had to duck from the mess.
“Watch out,” said Captain Magpie, flapping to avoid the dirt. “You may see two sides of a problem, but squirrels only think you’re bluffing.”
“I don’t care which side you’re on,” confirmed the squirrel. “I’m digging here.”
“Are you trying to get to Australia?” Cassidy asked.
“What’s Australia?” asked both the magpie and the squirrel.
Cassidy wasn’t surprised these creatures didn’t know about Australia since even the owl hadn’t heard of it. Suddenly, Cassidy saw what was in the hole with the squirrel. It was the book! It was the Book of Answers!
“That’s mine!” she cried.
“No, it’s not,” said the squirrel. “I’m burying it.”
“But I left it here! That book’s mine, and I was looking for it!”
“Then you didn’t bury it deep enough because I found it, and now it’s mine,” said the squirrel. “Finders keepers.”
“Finders keepers,” frowned Captain Magpie. “I guess I’ll look elsewhere for new items for my own collection.” He took off his hat and admired the new balloon. Then he donned it again with a tip at Cassidy. “Goodbye!” he said.
Oh no! Now, what was she going to do! “You can’t help me get my tablet back?” Cassidy asked the magpie.
“Back?” asked the magpie. “No, I only like used things. Twice loved, twice as fine!”
“But it’s the Book of Answers!”
“Then you should have everything you are looking for,” said the magpie. “Soon enough. Good luck!” The magpie left Cassidy.
She watched as the squirrel continued to throw dirt. “Can I please have the Book of Answers back?“ Cassidy ventured.
“No,” said the digging squirrel.
Cassidy was angry. Deep breath. Cassidy pursed her lips and set her fists on her hips. She had to think if she wanted to outwit the squirrel and win back the book. How could she get the tablet back?
“Why don’t you ask the book? It will tell you that it belongs to me,” Cassidy said.
The squirrel stopped digging. Its tail flicked twice. Then the squirrel wiped its brow with the top of its sock and considered her idea. “It is the Book of Answers. Ok.” The squirrel dusted off its hands, sending sparkles into the air. The squirrel pulled forward the book, undoing the clasp.
“You have to ask it a question first,” instructed Cassidy.
“I know that,” growled the squirrel.
“Ask it if it belongs to me, Cassidy.”
The squirrel narrowed its eyes at her, then turned its back to her. Then it announced aloud, “Oh, great Book of Answers. Who is the owner of the Book of Answers?”
Cassidy couldn’t see far enough into the hole. She couldn’t see around the squirrel’s shoulders. She couldn’t see the book open, but she did see unfit letters fly out and disappear in the air. A few seconds passed, and the squirrel announced, “Ha! I told you.” Turning around triumphantly, it held up the open book, a single word burned into the page.
You
“Me?” she asked, pointing to herself.
“No. It says you,” the squirrel said.
“So, it is me,” Cassidy argued.
“No, it means me. I’m you.” The squirrel’s logic sounded backward to Cassidy.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said.
“Well, I’ve got the book, so it makes sense to me.” The squirrel slammed the book shut and threw it aside without closing the clasp. The Book of Answers flapped its pages, and a few letters escaped.
“Wait!” Cassidy shouted. She had to get the book back. It was her tablet, and she wasn’t going home without it.
“What about a trade? Can I trade you something for it?” she asked. This got the squirrel’s attention. Its back went rigid, and its tail straightened.
“Trade?” the squirrel said, turning to look at her. “What have you got to trade?”
What did she have to trade? She didn’t have anything with her here. Her backpack was on the other side. Cassidy had to be creative. A song? A favor? A pink? Cassidy had a million guesses, but then she decided it would be better to ask and find out what the squirrel thought was worth more than a book.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Yells,” the squirrel said happily.
“Yells?” Cassidy was confused. What was a yell?
“Yes. Yellow shares are hot right now. Everyone wants yells.” Cassidy had no idea what the squirrel was talking about. She didn’t think the twitchy squirrel wanted her to physically yell. She didn’t want to ask. If she asked, the squirrel would think she didn’t have any yells. She asked a different question instead.
“Who’s everyone?”
“The other squirrels. The other sweeps and saints.”
“Sweeps and saints?” Everything Cassidy learned from this squirrel was even more confusing.
“Traders.” Again, the arrogant squirrel was impatient that it had to explain the obvious. The squirrel looked at her with skepticism growing. “Are you sure you want to trade?”
“Yes! Why don’t you show me where your friends are trading, uh, yells, and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Well, okay,” hesitated the squirrel. “But you better not be a squint trying to sell me purps or bars instead. I have enough of those. No one wants them. They are undervalued, worth five bugles each, I say. But no one listens.” The squirrel balanced the Book of Answers on its curved tailed and climbed out of the hole. The book levitated on its tail just out of reach. Not like Cassidy was going to snatch it and steal it back…
Trading Reds and Yellows
“This way,” the squirrel with the big glasses and colorful socks said.
Cassidy followed the squirrel away from the hole and back to the main street of pinecone buildings which to Cassidy’s surprise, was no longer a Wild West ghost town. It was a bustling, noisy town full of life. Woodland creatures of all sorts wore colorful clothing. There were robins wearing hardhats and reflective vests. There were jays with billowing fabric pants in red and purple. There were squirrels wearing suits and ties. There were brown rabbits wearing cowboy hats and spurs. White rabbits wearing monocles and plaid jackets. Cassidy couldn’t believe her eye!
And the buildings were vibrantly colored too. Painted signs out front advertised barbershops, pastries, and hookah. There was a saloon with colorful bottles of blue and red with chants from inside yelling “Drink me!”. The aspen leaf curtains were brilliant yellow, and flower boxes were bursting with irises and pansies everywhere.
“Wait!” Cassidy cried, almost losing sight of the squirrel she had been following. The squirrel weaved back and forth like a downhill skier, crisscrossing left and right. They were heading towards a large square building. The squirrel barely glanced back as it slid inside the door and disappeared. Cassidy followed, catching an eye on the painted letters across the front saying: Seed Exchange.
Seed Exchange? Was this a bank full of edible seeds? Cassidy could guess why the squirrels in Wonderland would want seeds. They would be hungry, waiting for spring just like the robin. She knew sometimes squirrels buried seeds so they could uncover them in the Winter. Was that what the squirrel was trying to do with her tablet? But her tablet wasn’t edible.
Inside, a wide staircase with multiple gilded banisters led up to double swinging doors like a movie theatre. The stairs were made of wood logs, cut flat, and the railings were scrolled with vine decorations that continued across the floor and framed the doorway. Cassidy pushed open both doors, one eye closed, and stood with her mouth open at the turmoil of shouts and shoves.
The huge room was as big as a gymnasium and had more than ten massive columns holding up the domed ceiling. All the columns were made of wood, carved with intricate patterns of twisting and looping leaves. Between each pillar stretched arches connecting them together. Cassidy felt like she was inside a tree, imagining the columns as the beginning of branches extending beyond the building’s ceiling.
Each column was mainly one color, and the closest one to her was purple, followed by a blue column, then red, white, yellow, green, and orange. The columns were each covered with scraps of black and white newspapers with crayon scribbles that matched the column’s color. The floor was strewn with written equations and tallies on torn pieces of paper.
And the chattering noise! The entire Seed Exchange was filled with squirrels. They ran from one column to another, each with a drawstring bag, briefcase, suitcase, or backpack. Voices were yelling, and clawed hands were waving. Tails flicked to match the cackling ticks of the squirrels as they counted what was in their bag. Every now and then, Cassidy saw one reach into their bag and produce a handful of colored wooden blocks. They were trading. It was a madhouse.
“Bugles. Come on, I’ve got three bugles. Who wants them?” One shouted, flashing a blue triangle block. Most of the squirrels surrounded the blue- and purple-colored columns.
“I’ll give you twenty bars for one purp. No? Fine, make it twenty-one bars,” one bartered.
“Bars are a dime a dozen. Make it twenty-four,” another said.
“Anyone trading wholes? I’ve got enough purps and bugles to make it worth your while,” said one running around.
Cassidy saw one squirrel dump a pile of red bars and accept a single blue triangle. Another traded three purple stars for two blue triangles. Then Cassidy spied a squirrel inspecting their loot in the corner. It pulled out a yellow square before stuffing it back in their bag. Is that what the squirrel with her tablet wanted? There weren’t very many squirrels trading yellow blocks.
“Excuse me,” she asked a passerby. “What’s the going price for yells?”
“Few of those around,” the squirrel said, walking away. “I bet I could get forty bugles for a yell if I had one.” They greedily ignored her. Cassidy looked around, watching the traders going back and forth. Selling red bars at one station to buy purple stars at another. Then, turning around to sell the purple stars for the blue triangles. Then trading blue triangles or bugles for even more red bars. One of the blocks was used to mark the newspaper column upon each trade, leaving a colored streak to match the sold goods.
One column near the back had only a few yellow marks on it, and only a couple squirrels were at it. Cassidy dug in her pockets for anything that might be worth something. She didn’t have any blocks to trade. Maybe if she went to the yellow column, she could ask someone where yells came from. She would dig like a squirrel to get yellow blocks if she had to. Cassidy walked over to it.
“Yells?” A new squirrel asked, approaching her.
“Uh, yes,” she said. “Can you tell me where the blocks come from? Do they grow on trees?”
“Three? Three what!” The squirrel insisted. Its eyes grew crazed. This got the attention of another squirrel too, who stopped suddenly. Cassidy looked at them both, confused.
“Three? No, I said tree,” Cassidy tried to clarify. “Like a palm tree, you know?”
“Bang!” They shouted to each other and again to themselves. Then the two squirrels scurried away, reciting “purp three, three purps,” over and over.
The room exploded. The word traveled that someone was throwing the market and lowering the price of yells. Everyone at the blue, red, and white columns ran to the purple column. The shouts escalated; everyone now wanted to trade their bugles, bars, and wholes for purps.
“Two bugles, two bugles. No, how about three bugles. Three blue triangles for one purple.”
