the toys made of wood. Edison, ever the master carpenter, made mental notes on how he would duplicate them in his shop.
Nancy and Carmelita browsed the dry goods and quilts, while the boys pulled at the two men, pleading for the specialty of the house: raccoon-tail fur hats.
Edison grabbed a hat and put it on.
Galen did likewise.
“Fess Parker,” he said.
“Buddy Ebsen,” Edison replied, grinning.
A beat, and then suddenly as if on cue the two sang, in unison, “Davey, Davey Crockett, king of the wild frontier!”
Those younger than sixty just stared in confusion.
Galen bought hats for each of the boys and offered to get one for Edison and Carmelita as well. Edison was tempted but noticed Nancy’s disapproving look and declined.
Carmelita also declined but did ask for something else: a framed needlepoint. It was in the style of an 1830s-vintage sampler, done by young girls in the distant past to demonstrate their home skills. She didn’t know that, of course. She only knew it somehow attracted her, its border of birds and good-luck signs double-framing its message, which she read in her now-flawless English:
“Bless the children of this house and those who love them so.”
Edison, faster than Galen at pulling out his wallet, took the framed art to the counter.
“How about one last bathroom break?” Galen asked. He and Edison took the boys, and Nancy took Carmelita. Apple cider makes a very effective diuretic.
They headed briefly along state route 55 then turned at the old general store. The former dirt road, now paved, twisted and turned up Blue Mountain.
Not just the pavement had changed. The apple orchards had fallen victim to the lure of developers’ money. Where once row after row of carefully pruned trees blossomed in the spring and appeared laden with Christmas-ornament-colored apple globes in the fall, new houses were sprouting.
The three adults sighed wordlessly, as older people often do when confronted by the inevitability of change.
As they climbed higher, Galen saw the reason why the old gravel road had been replaced by asphalt: two giant microwave-relay towers at the mountain crest, joined by an even more recent cell phone tower. He missed the rumble-bumps of the old road—but his kidneys didn’t.
“Look at that,” Edison said almost giddily. “I helped design those beasties!”
Sometimes, change is not so hard to take.
Nancy looked admiringly at her husband. She knew all the great things he had accomplished in his long career, for many of which others had claimed credit. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.
They reached a crossroads at the top, and the pavement ran out.
“Behold the Fortress of Solitude,” Galen announced.
The kids had no idea what he was talking about, but they perked up and looked out the windows, as Edison drove onto the tree-haloed, narrow dirt road, still posted with the wildlife-service signs, that ended at the giant oak. Old Ollie still cast its mighty shadow over the entrance.
As the children unfastened their seatbelts, Nancy took charge.
“Now listen carefully, kids. You stay here with us. Don’t go running off to play yet, understand?”
All three nodded.
Nancy knew the boys wanted to race around like the wind, but until everyone got their bearings on this mountain, she didn’t want to take any chances. Sure enough, Tonio and Freddie quickly disappeared. She looked around nervously, until she saw Freddie tagging along with Edison and Tonio heading after Galen.
Well, as long as the men don’t get lost, the boys won’t, either.
Galen walked slowly down the logging path. He wanted to visit the spring once more. He heard footsteps running up behind him and turned to see Tonio. Though he had relished the thought of being alone for a while, he realized it would be good to share this with the boy. So he put on a smile.
“Come, Tonio, let’s go to a very special place, a place where the animals come to drink. You and I will be the first to see it, okay? Then we can bring your brother and sister with Tia Nancy and Tio Edison.”
He walked even more slowly now that Tonio was with him. Yes, it was better to have company, to share observations, to give of one’s self by teaching another.
“Look, Tonio, see that? It’s a pileated woodpecker. And over there, Trifolium plants.”
Each new site brought forth burbles of delight from the boy.
As they neared the spring, Galen gestured to Tonio to keep very, very quiet. They moved as silently as a young boy and an old man could. Luck was with them. They saw two raccoons drinking from the pool that the dam of glacial rock had formed below the spring. Tonio tugged on his coonskin hat, as he watched the animals wash their faces in the clear-flowing water.
Suddenly Galen heard Edison shouting.
“Freddie, Freddie! Where are you? Come on now, get back here!”
Galen motioned for Tonio to follow, and they headed as fast as they could up the mountainside. They found Edison, Nancy, and Carmelita in a panic.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Freddie and I were walking over that crest. I sat down to tie my shoelaces, and when I stood up he was gone! Nancy and Carmelita didn’t see him, either.”
Galen’s mind raced. Little boys do foolish things. He spoke quietly to conceal his own nervousness.
“First, everybody should stay together. We’ll all go back to the place where Freddie disappeared. Then we’ll plan our search.”
The five moved slowly toward the crest, turning their heads left and right, trying to catch a glimpse of the missing boy. As they mounted the hillside, Nancy spotted something.
“Look, his cap! He must have come this way!”
They moved toward the fur hat caught on one of the ever-present, wild-raspberry canes.
“Slow down.” Galen spoke quietly. “And pipe down. Watch the ground for any sign of his tracks, and listen for him.”
As they proceeded, Nancy noticed a depression in the moss and forest-plant ground cover. Then they all saw it: a hole, who knows how deep, but just wide enough to swallow a young and maybe overly curious boy. Was it an animal burrow or a surface communication to the vast, underlying limestone honeycombs in the mountain? The three adults silently prayed for the shallow-burrow alternative.
They moved ahead slowly and carefully, not wanting to disturb any dirt by their vibrations. Edison gently squatted down next to the hole and tried to peer inside, but the cover was too dense to reveal anything.
“Freddie, Freddie,” he called. “It’s Tio Eddie. Can you hear me?”
All five strained their ears and waited.
He tried again. “Freddie, it’s okay, you didn’t do anything wrong. We just want to help you.”
Then they all heard the soft whimpering. From the sound of it, Freddie hadn’t dropped in very far. Nancy spread apart the cover and stuck her face in the opening.
“It’s okay, Freddie, we’re all here—me, Carmie, Tonio, your tios. We want to get you out. Queremos ayudarle. Tio Eddie will get some rope and a flashlight from the car.”
At that, Edison took off through the forest.
“Escuche cuidadosamente. Listen carefully, Freddie. We know you’re a big boy. When Tio Eddie returns, he’s going to lower the flashlight with the rope. When you get it, I want you to shine the light to where you hear us and tug on the rope. Okay? ¿Usted entiende?”