Loretta Mason Potts Read online

  “I can see it all now.” He twirled his mustache. “Those great eyes peering in at me through the bars of a cage. Those great fingers poking me to make me move. Those great shouts of laughter.”

  The Countess laid a hand on his arm. “Stop, General, I can bear no more. Is there nothing we can do?”

  This was the moment he was waiting for. “Yes.” He stood up straight. “We can outwit them, in one way. We can all walk into the stream together and walk up a short distance where the water is over our heads.”

  The Countess did not speak. The General turned his head away. But she was every inch a Countess. He heard a sound. Ah, poor thing, she was weeping. No wonder! But no, she was holding up her glass and she was smiling at him.

  “To you, General. It’s been such fun knowing you!”

  “To you, my dear, you have never looked lovelier.” Then he sighed. “I would never have said it before, but now I can tell you. I have always cared deeply for you.”

  The Countess dropped her head. “I have suspected that.”

  “But you,” he took her hand in his, “have only loved children. If I had been six when we met, things might have been so different.”

  “Yes, General, but you were already pushing—thirty-five.”

  He held out his arms. “Nevertheless, before we go in and tell the others, may I have the next waltz in here?”

  She stepped into his arms. “I think, General, you mean —the last waltz.”

  They had waltzed twice around the library, when the General heard the noise outside. He gripped the Countess’s hand. “Steady, my dear, this is it.”

  They looked through the window.

  Loretta was running up the stone staircase, taking two steps at a time. Behind her raced Sharon and Jerry. Kathy walked slowly.

  “Countess, Countess, where are you?” Loretta’s voice was loud and excited. “Where’s the General?”

  Now they could hear her frantically climbing over Irene Irene’s leg, calling to the others following her, “Come on, come on, let’s find the Countess.”

  The General opened the library door softly. “They must not see that we are frightened, remember.”

  Loretta ran past him. “Countess, Countess!” She was panting and out of breath. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you, your room, the snow room.”

  The Countess instantly straightened up like a knife. “You have not been back across the bridge—to tell anyone—anything?”

  Loretta did not hear her. “Something terrible happened. Look out there! Irene Irene Lavene. Something happened to her. She swelled up like that just in one second. She’s not a doll any more. She turned into a giant when I was bringing her across the bridge. I had to climb over her to get here.”

  “Me, too,” said Kathy, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “So did we,” said Jerry. “And me and Sharon almost fell in the stream.”

  “Look,” Loretta cried out again, “look at her—see!”

  The General was smiling a little crooked smile as he regarded the terrified children. “Who?” he asked. “What? Where?”

  “See out there,” Kathy sobbed. “Look—out there!”

  When the Countess spoke her voice sounded so innocent.

  “See—what? Oh, do calm down, children.”

  The General sauntered over to the window. He yawned. “There does seem to be something out there, Countess. Look!”

  The Countess pretended at first she could not see anything.

  “Where? I see nothing. What would you have me look at General, the moon?” She smiled at the wide-eyed, frightened children. “The dear fellow is so romantic.”

  The General pretended to be patient. “You are looking in the wrong direction, Countess. Stand here. Now look there.”

  “You mean the sky, General? The trees, the big black night?”

  Jerry yelled and jumped up and down. “The bridge— the bridge. Look on the bridge!”

  The General leaned out of the window. He chuckled as he pulled his head back inside. “By Jove, Countess, this is a bit of a do, I must say.”

  Loretta took hold of the Countess’s hand and pulled at her. “The doorway. Come and look at what’s in your doorway!”

  “Humor the child,” the General urged her. “Let’s have a look in the doorway.”

  Loretta ran ahead of them calling, “Come on—hurry. Look!”

  Hand in hand, the General and the Countess sauntered after her toward the leg. But the General stopped now by a vase of flowers.

  “I’ll join you in a minute, my dear, but first I must have a boutonniere.”

  The Countess gazed calmly at the leg and the big foot with the red satin shoe. “How odd,” she murmured. “I wonder, is this anyone I know?”

  Loretta was getting more and more impatient. Jerry and Sharon were so surprised. Kathy still sobbed quietly.

  “It’s Irene!” Loretta shouted. “Irene Irene Lavene, Kathy’s doll. I stole her tonight. Then she turned into a big thing as I was crossing the bridge with her.”

  The Countess was tapping lightly with her fingers on the red satin toe. “A doll—not really! Do come and look, General. This is rather amazing.”

  “One moment,” he called to her and he went right on examining the vase of roses to find just the right size for his buttonhole. He made a great pretense of humming and did not turn his eyes away from the flowers.

  “Let’s see here,” he was talking to himself. “Perhaps this natty little yellow one. Ah, yes—I will have you.”

  The Countess whispered to the wide-eyed children. “It takes a great deal to amaze the General. He is so widely traveled. Do forgive him.”

  Sharon ran to him and pulled his arm. “Look, General, can’t you even look and see what’s happened to Irene Irene?”

  The General adjusted his monocle as he stood before the leg. Then he removed the monocle, tapped it lightly on the back of his hand. “Large woman,” he announced, “and she seems to have one foot in the door.” Then he laughed and slapped the leg.

  Kathy moaned in anguish. Her face was stained with tears. “She’s a doll—a doll. She was the most beautiful doll in the whole world and then tonight—out there—she turned from a doll and turned into a—giant.”

  None of the children saw that the General and the Countess were smiling at each other.

  Loretta stood very still, her eyes wide with wonder. “I know,” she nodded slowly, “I know what happened.”

  No one spoke. Everybody listened.

  “It’s my fault,” Loretta went on slowly, “I stole her away and I got punished. You get punished when you steal things, Mother says. Poor Kathy, she was your best doll.”

  Then Loretta burst into loud sobs. She ran to a sofa, threw herself down on it, sobbed and kicked her feet. One of her shoes came off.

  The Countess stroked her and said soothing things. “Now Loretta, dear Loretta, don’t cry, Loretta.”

  But Kathy said, “Let her cry. It’s all her fault.”

  Jerry said, “Wait till Mother hears.”

  Sharon said, “Shame on you, Loretta, shame, shame, double shame.”

  But all the while the Countess was smiling at the General, and he was smiling at her. They were safe. The stupid children did not realize that Irene had not changed at all. It was they who became ten inches high as they crossed over the bridge.

  “I’m going home.” Kathy walked slowly to the door.

  “So am I,” said Jerry, “but I’m going to wade across the stream. I almost fell in when I climbed over her before.”

  “So did I,” said Sharon, “I will wade across the stream, too.”

  “No, no,” cried the Countess quickly. They all turned.

  “What I mean is, you must not wade the stream or you will all get wet.”

  “Never,” the General echoed. “It would never do for you to get wet.”

  Jerry was astonished and so was Sharon. “Afraid to get wet? Who’s afraid to get wet. I like to get wet. Come o
n, Sharon.” Then he started to run.

  The Countess stepped in his path. “Oh, please.” She smoothed his hair, smiled at Sharon and put her arm around Kathy. “Don’t go yet. I have been counting on a little chat with all of you—in the library over a dish of ice cream.”

  “Don’t be a boor,” the General slapped Jerry on the back, “and never disappoint a lady. It’s not done, you know.”

  “Okay,” said Jerry.

  “What kind of ice cream?” asked Sharon.

  “I don’t want any,” said Kathy.

  “Please,” begged the Countess, “for me?”

  So the General held the library door. The Countess gently pulled the weeping Loretta from the sofa and took her by the hand.

  “Oh, Countess,” Loretta threw her arms around her, “nobody loves me but you.”

  “And who else,” the Countess smiled, “do you need?”

  The children seated themselves stiffly in the chairs in the library.

  “Wait here, please.” The General bowed. “While we order the refreshments.” He closed the shutters at the window. “Bit of a draft.”

  He beckoned the Countess outside and then closed the door, locking it quickly.

  “We must set fire at once to the creature on the bridge.”

  The Countess nodded. “A fitting end for her and anyone else who would speak that atrocious piece.”

  They hurried away quickly.

  Jerry had heard the lock on the door click. He tried it.

  “Hey,” he turned to the others, “we’re locked in. The General locked us in.”

  “Pooh,” Loretta answered. “He did not. The General is nice.” Then she tried the door. It was locked.

  “I want to get out,” cried Sharon. “I don’t want to be locked in.”

  “Hush,” said Loretta, “we can get out. I’ll show you.” Then she went to another door in the room, opened it and stood still in amazement. It was a closet door. And inside was a great gold watch with a black strap. On the back of the watch was engraved the name “Colin.”

  “Hey,” Jerry pulled it out with both hands onto the carpet, “that’s a watch like Colin’s watch—only lots bigger.”

  But Loretta was looking at something else. She was holding the end of a big white tablecloth with the name “Loretta” embroidered in red thread at one corner. “My handkerchief,” her tone was hushed.

  “Your handkerchief!” Kathy’s voice was scornful. “A big thing like that! How could that be a handkerchief?”

  “It is,” Loretta’s voice was full of wonder. “I don’t know how, but it is. I spilled ink on my handkerchief, green ink, and here it is. Look, there is the green ink.”

  Suddenly she understood.

  “We’re little,” she told them, “that’s what happens in the middle of the bridge. We get little. This is all—little!”

  “What a pity,” someone said, and then they turned slowly around. They had not heard the door open. They had not heard him come in. But there he was, the General, standing with a tray of dishes of ice cream. His eyes now were as cold as the ice cream and his lips were as straight as a ruler. He was looking beyond them to the wrist watch and the handkerchief.

  “A great, great pity.” Then he sighed. “The cat is out of the bag and the bloom is off the rose. Ladies and gentlemen, be seated. I suggest you find a comfortable chair, because now, you will remain here with us—forever.”

  Then he clicked his heels and bowed, walked through the door, closed it, locked it, taking the ice cream with him!

  14. OUTWITTING THE POLICE

  When Colin woke the next morning he heard sounds of feet running back and forth outside. He ran to his window.

  Outside on the lawn there were groups of the neighbors, three policemen and one plain-clothes officer. They were walking on the lawn, studying the ground.

  “A ladder,” he heard one policeman say, “they could have used a ladder, but where’re the prints?”

  He ran downstairs. The dining room was empty. There were none of the breakfast time sounds and smells and hurry.

  The doors of the music room opened and out stepped Mother, followed by a man in a police captain’s uniform who was holding pictures of Kathy and Jerry and Sharon and Loretta.

  “We’ll have these pictures on all the TV newscasts within an hour,” the officer was saying to her. “All the roads out of town have been blocked, and if the kidnappers act according to formula you will get a message sometime today.”

  Then Colin knew what had happened. He had fallen sound asleep after he went to bed, but Kathy had gone to bed and then gotten up again. She had gone through the tunnel after Irene Irene and Jerry and Sharon had gone with her.

  He ran to his mother. The police captain pushed him away.

  “Leave your mother alone, son. She’s had a great shock.”

  “But, Mother!” He jerked away from the captain’s hand. “Blocking roads is no good. I know where the children are.”

  Everybody got very still. Mother ran to him. She began to shake him. “Where are they, Colin? Tell me at once.”

  The words came out of Colin’s mouth like popcorn popping on a hot pan. “Through the tunnel and over the bridge there’s a countess and a general.”

  “What’s that?” asked the captain, getting out his notebook. “Where?”

  “It’s through a tunnel and over a bridge.” Colin was breathless now. “There’s a big beautiful house and a general with a sword and the Countess has a snow room and a bed like a boat.”

  The captain sat him down in a chair. “Calm down, son. Where is this place? How do we get there? What’s the address?”

  “You go upstairs,” Colin told him, “and you go into my sister Loretta’s clothes closet and push on the wall and there’s a tunnel and then a forest and then a bridge. Come on. I’ll show you.”

  Colin was running out of the room.

  But Mother and the police captain were not moving. Mother sighed.

  “Please excuse him, captain. The poor boy is hysterical.”

  The captain put away his notebook. “He’s been watching too much television or reading too many comic books.”

  Colin was getting more and more excited. He was shouting. “Come on,” he cried, “I’ll show you. The wall opens. There’s a tunnel behind it.”

  Then he pulled at his mother. But the captain took hold of his arm. “Have you got some place you could send him, ma’am? Some place where he could stay till this is cleared up?”

  Mother thought. “Yes. This is not good for him. Let him go down the street and stay with Mrs. Newby. But captain, please don’t let the kidnappers get him, too.”

  “Now, now,” the captain’s voice was comforting, “we’ll send two of my men with him so nobody will get him.”

  Then the captain called two of the other policemen from the lawn. Kicking, yelling and shouting, Colin was taken out of the house in his pajamas. Rosalie ran upstairs to get his clothes, and before you could count to five he was bundled into a police car. He saw Whitey Boggs and George Swenson in the crowd at the curbing. They were looking at him, curious and a little frightened.

  As the car pulled away from the curbing he was still shouting at his mother. But she wasn’t listening.

  A few minutes later, Mother passed Loretta’s bedroom on her way to her bathroom to get a cold towel for her head. She stopped. The wall at the back of that clothes closet. Didn’t it look odd, though?

  She walked over to it. It was standing like a door—ajar. Was she dreaming? She must be. She touched it. It swung open and there was a long black tunnel with lights. Colin had been telling the truth.

  Mother did not hesitate one second, even though she was afraid. Fear? What was fear? Wherever her children had gone, she would go, no matter how terrible.

  She stepped through the doorway in the wall of the closet and the door swung slowly shut behind her.

  Mrs. Newby and Colin were having breakfast. That is, Mrs. Newby was sitting at her breakfa
st table with him. He was not eating. He was thinking of his brother and sisters.

  He knew they had gone over the bridge, but why hadn’t they come back? And then he knew, suddenly, why they had not come back. He remembered all of the times he had seen those pin points in the Countess’s eyes and the General’s hand at his sword.

  His brother and sisters had not come back because they couldn’t come back. They were being held. Oh, why didn’t his mother listen to him? If he could only get out of here and get back home.

  But there was a policeman at the back door of Mrs. Newby’s house and one at the front door.

  Mrs. Newby started to butter a roll for him and then she stopped. “Listen,” she said, “there’s a friend of mine. Hear that, outside? Hear that rat-a-tat-tat sound?”

  Yes, it was a rat-a-tat-tat—pecking sound on the window pane.

  “Stay here,” said Mrs. Newby, “and wait for me. This may be important news.”

  She was back in a minute. Her face was beaming.

  “Most, most interesting. This friend of mine tells me he has seen your brother and your sisters.”

  Colin jumped up. “Where is he? Where are they?”

  “They are where you told me they were, Colin, at the house through the tunnel and across the bridge.”

  Colin jumped up and down. “I knew it. I knew it. I’ve got to go.” He ran toward the door, but as he opened it the policeman stood looking down at him.

  “Get back in there, bud,” said the policeman, “where do you think you’re going?” Colin slowly closed the door.

  Then he had an idea. “Who told you, Mrs. Newby? Who told you where they were? Make him tell those cops.”

  Mrs. Newby smiled. “My friend is far away from here by now,” she said. “And besides he wouldn’t set foot in this room. You see my friend—is a robin.”

  Colin sat down in the chair. “A robin!” And yet he believed her. It seemed only fair. She had believed him.

  “If you want to get to them,” said Mrs. Newby, “you should go now and not let any grass grow under your feet.”

  Colin ran to the window. He pointed. “How can I get by those cops?”

  Mrs. Newby thought a minute. “There is always a way. Wait right here.”