Chapter XIV
Before Hazel knew it the calendar read August 30. She had successfully avoided any mention of the objects or the little animals, or even the box which was in ashes in the fireplace. Her plan had worked so far, but the most important part, and the most delicate part, was coming up fast. That night her father was coming with the clock and everything had to work perfectly from there. She still didn’t have any idea as to what exactly was going to happen, but the force driving her was too strong to argue with.
After lunch on the thirtieth Hazel stood in her room. She had just finished packing her things and was looking at the pile of yarn on her nightstand. She didn’t do much with it over the last few weeks. The carrier for it was gone, but she managed to fit it into her bag. Her bed was made; room clean, all that was left was to wait for her father. They were supposed to stay the night, though Hazel had a feeling that Mrs. Norwich wouldn’t want them in the house after she figured out what Hazel had planned. The items were still out in the woods but Hazel knew where to find them all.
The afternoon was spent nervously sitting in a chair watching the clock. Every few minutes Mrs. Norwich would come in and ask what was wrong. Hazel simply said that she was nervous about starting school in a few days. She had second thoughts about what she was about to do when she saw how happy Mrs. Norwich seemed to be. The mood she was in before disappeared as soon as the objects did.
Dinner came and there was still no sign of Mr. Winbolt, he must have left after work. Mrs. Norwich made more potato soup, it was Hazel’s favorite. They ate silently for some time, until Mrs. Norwich started asking questions.
“So what are you going to do when you get home?” She asked pleasantly.
“Oh,” Hazel took a deep breath, “I don’t know. I guess I will see how my mother is doing.”
“Are you sure you’re alright with all that?”
“I don’t think she’s going anywhere any time soon . . . it’s just a feeling I get.”
“That’s good, but you have to see that sometimes things don’t go our way.”
Hazel went to the kitchen to get more soup to avoid the question. When she got back Mrs. Norwich was waiting expectantly for a response.
“I have a feeling that she’ll be fine.” Hazel said nervously, she was visibly shaking.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m just a little cold.”
“Do you want me to turn down the air?”
“No, but I was wondering, when did you get air conditioning?” Hazel would have asked anything to get the conversation moving to something else.
“That happened about fifteen years ago. Your father got some people to come out and do the whole thing, it was great.”
“It must have been hard to get it into such an old house.”
“No, not really, well actually I have no idea. If you want to know more about it you should ask your father when he gets here.”
Hazel smiled. “I will.”
Hazel helped her grandmother clean up the kitchen. She then went back to sitting in the living room. A few minutes later Mrs. Norwich came in.
“His car is pulling up now.”
“Oh good.”
Nausea was starting to set in. Hazel got up and went into the kitchen, afraid she would actually throw up. She tried to think of what good could come of what she was going to do, but all she could think of was her grandmother screaming at her again. The door opened and Hazel heard her father’s voice.
“Evening Annabella, how are things?”
“Good, your daughter is quite the character. She really is something. I can say that I’ve enjoyed her visit.”
“Great.” Mr. Winbolt replied. He sounded like he didn’t quite believe that the two of them got along. “Where is she?”
“Oh she was here just a minute ago. Hazel!” She called.
Hazel slowly stepped from the kitchen. Her father still had his tie on from work and was carrying a sleeping bag under his arm. Mrs. Norwich noticed this as well.
“A sleeping bag? Don’t you think my beds are any good?”
Mr. Winbolt laughed. “I didn’t want you to have to change the blankets tomorrow.”
Mrs. Norwich sighed and took the sleeping bag from him. Hazel gave her father a hug and then tried to get away.
“Where you going, Haze?” He took her arm.
“Oh, I don’t know.”
“So your grandmother was telling me that you had a good time. . .”
“Yes, it was great.”
“Hey, guess what? Your mother is doing better.”
“Really?” Hazel forgot all her nerves for a moment.
“She’s still sick, but the doctor says he sees improvement. She’s spending the night at the hospital; they can do more for her there. She really wanted to come, but the doctor said it wasn’t a good idea.”
Mrs. Norwich frowned. “Still don’t know what it is?”
Mr. Winbolt shook his head. “No.”
Mrs. Norwich glanced at Hazel, who tried to avoid eye contact.
“I’m sure things will turn around.” Mr. Winbolt declared.
Mrs. Norwich made Mr. Winbolt a sandwich and some potato soup. They sat in the kitchen and talked. Hazel went back up to her room. She sat on the bed and looked out the window. How long would it take her to collect the items? Hopefully not long. She took a deep breath and got up, heading for the stairs. In the kitchen she found her father sitting alone.
“Where’s Mrs. Norwich?” Hazel asked, looking around.
“The bathroom. Hey the clocks in the car if you want to get it out.”
“Yes, please.”
Mr. Winbolt threw his daughter a key ring with various keys on it. She went straight outside, but didn’t stop at the car.
It was humid that night. Hazel pressed forward, down the path between the trees, towards town. She felt lonely not having a little animal to follow. She hoped that she could get back before anybody missed her.
When the lights of town became visible hazel took a turn to the right. It wasn’t long before she could hear the soft sound of water lapping against rocks. The little hill had clumps of grass and dirt all around it. Hazel dug her hands into the top and pulled out a small, dirt covered coin. She then washed the coin and her hands off in the river and started back toward the house. One down.
Back at the house Hazel stood at the door facing the path, looked to her left, and started towards the trees. It was just as dark and mysterious in the forest as ever. She went in the general direction that she had gone the first time. Her hands were out in front of her to feel for trees or low hanging branches, and her feet stepped down slowly so as to avoid tripping. Deep into the trees she found the small clearing. She was glad to find it on her own this time.
Slowly she crept up to the small pool of water, only to find that the doll was not there. Had Mrs. Norwich forgotten where it was? Or did she mean to put it somewhere different so Hazel couldn’t find it? She began to panic. What if it was somewhere completely different? There was no time to go all over the place looking for it.
Hazel walked the edge of the clearing, looking all around in hopes of finding the doll. There was no sign of it. She sat in the grass, defeated.
“What am I supposed to do now?” She said quietly to herself. “They’re probably looking for me already.” A shiver of fear went through her at the thought of her father going around looking for her. “I need to go back.”
She placed her head down on the grass and looked up at the stars. She could see more of them than she could at home. They were so beautiful up there, shining down on her. If only she had a camera. She would have taken a picture of the sky and then put it on the ceiling of her room at home so she could always see the stars at night. She sighed and was about to get up when something caught her eye. There was an arm poking out of one of the trees that surrounded her. She stood up and had a look. About four feet above her
head, in a hole in the tree, was one of the arms of the doll. Excitement filled her once again. She jumped up and tried to reach it but was too short.
Hazel grabbed onto the bark with her hands and jumped, wrapping her legs around the trunk. She was too small for them to reach all the way around. With great effort she lifted herself up by her hands, moved her legs up a little, and was a few inches higher. This continued until she was level with the hole. She reached inside and pulled the doll out, letting it fall to the ground. She launched herself from the tree and landed safely on the ground. Her hands were cut and ached tremendously, but she was as happy as can be. She had two of the objects. Two more to go and one was already at the house.
Tired and sore, Hazel wandered through the trees until she was back at the house. She listened for her father’s call. It never came; they hadn’t noticed she was gone yet. The doll was placed on the side of the house and covered with a few dead leaves that were nearby. Hazel then went to the back of the house. She crept up to the kitchen window and looked in. Mr. Winbolt and Mrs. Norwich were talking at the small breakfast table. Mrs. Norwich laughed at something Hazel’s father said. She looked so different than when Hazel first met her, so much nicer.
Silently Hazel went away from the window towards the forest. She took one look back at the house. While the first floor appeared warm and inviting the upper floors looked dark and sinister to her. She could see her bedroom window from there. It was dark, but in the window a shadow came into view. It was a different sort of darkness then the rest of the night. It almost looked as if a person were looking down at her. A wave of fear went through her. She turned away from the window, shaking off the feeling and attributing it to imagination.
Once in the trees she tried to remember the way the horse had led her. Either she had a great memory, or the strange force was pushing her along because she found the corridor of trees and ivy before too long. It was much quieter than the last time she was there when a storm was blowing everything about.
The little playhouse was a sad sight. It was so overgrown and falling apart. Hazel kind of wished that she had a place like that to play in. She sighed in relief when she found the toy iron right where it was the first time. A few minutes later she was back at the house with the three items.
Hazel slowly opened the door and went straight to the basement, her arms full of things that were not allowed in the house. She put the objects down in the center of the floor and went back upstairs. She was near the front door when a voice came from behind her.
“Where are you going?”
Hazel turned and saw her grandmother standing near the basement door. The smile was gone, replaced by a frown that Hazel had hoped to never see again.
“I just put my stuff in the car but forgot to lock it.” She held up the keys her father gave her.
“You’re staying the night.” Mrs. Norwich pointed out.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Let me just go out and get my stuff.”
Mrs. Norwich looked around as if expecting to see something that wasn’t there. “You didn’t . . . never mind just go get your stuff.”
“I will.”
Mrs. Norwich went back into the kitchen. Hazel groaned and went back outside. She hated lying.
The car door unlocked with a click. Hazel found the clock in the backseat. She pulled it out and locked the door. She would have to be careful bringing it in. It would be hard to hide it if Mrs. Norwich was anywhere in sight.
Hazel tiptoed through the living room. She could hear the grownups talking in the kitchen about current events. Her hand slipped on the basement door. The noise filled the quiet house. She froze, waiting to hear if anyone was coming. When she felt it safe she went down the stairs and put the clock with the other items on the floor of the basement. It was time.
With bated breath Hazel waited for something to happen . . . anything to happen . . . even just a sign that she did something right. The waiting grew tiresome. Hazel went back upstairs, thinking things over. Did she forget an item? No, unless one of the animals forgot to show her one.
And then it hit her. The little bird, it had tried to show her something in Mrs. Norwich’s room. There must be something there that Hazel was supposed to find. She ran the rest of the way up the stairs to the first floor, and then ran up to the second floor. At first she was nervous going into her grandmother’s room, she had only been in there once before.
It was the nicest room in the house. After all she had eighty some years to get it the way she wanted it. There was a plush green rug, a four poster bed, and a dresser with little figurines on it. Hazel picked up each of the figurines, hoping that she would somehow know when she picked up the right one. Most were little porcelain animals, some were people. There were little kids on a swing set, or sitting on a bench, or just standing there alone. Hazel picked up all of them but none gave her any type of reaction.
And then she realized something else. Mrs. Norwich said there were only four items, and besides that she hated them so much there was no way she would put one in her room. So that was it then, there was nothing else to look for. She had found all the items. But what of the little bird? It frustrated Hazel so much to not know the answer.