Chapter IV

  The next day was really boring. Hazel went down for breakfast, and before she knew it, it was lunch time, and pretty soon dinner was ready. She was very tired when she got up, as if she only slept for a little while. After breakfast she took a nap, but it didn’t seem to do anything so she took another after lunch. It didn’t matter to her that the day was wasted by sleeping; she still wanted to get home as fast as possible and was happiest knowing that she could waste a whole day. She decided that she would have to take a nap every day and only look for adventure when her grandmother was on one of her walks.

  During dinner Hazel yawned a few too many times for her grandmother’s liking.

  “Young ladies do not yawn at the dinner table. One would think you actually did something today.” Said her grandmother.

  “I did do something today, I slept.”

  “It’s about time you were of some use around here. I wanted you to come up here to help me with some things.”

  “I thought dad already did.” Hazel said, remembering her father cleaning the rain gutter and cutting hedges.

  “I mean things that you can help me with while you’re here. Things that take several days. I need you to cut the grass and help me take some things down to town that I need to get rid of. When I think of more you can help with that too.”

  “The grass is almost all dead.” Hazel said.

  “But I still want it cut. Besides you have not been out of this house since you got here, that’s not healthy for a child of your age. You need to be out. Try crocheting out back.”

  Hazel looked at her grandmother in disbelief. “Crocheting outside? If I’m going outside I want to run around or explore.”

  “I told you there’s nothing to explore.”

  “Maybe I could explore the town.” Hazel suggested.

  Mrs. Norwich shook her head. “I do not want you down there alone. Perhaps tomorrow after you cut the grass you can go with me on my walk if you want to go to town. You can help me carry some things.”

  “Alright,” Hazel agreed, “I’ll go with you. I’m anxious to see what the town is like.”

  “It’s a queer old place, they may not like you.”

  “Then I may not like them.”

  That night Hazel sat on her bed, writing to her parents.

  . . . I wanted to tell you that I am having a great time. She wrote. She had decided that she wanted her parents to think that she was having the time of her life. They already had enough to worry about. Mrs. Norwich is going to take me to town tomorrow. You know, she is a very good cook. This house is so big and neat. I havent even explored all of it yet. Rite back soon!

  Hazel tore the page out of the notebook and set it aside. She wished what she wrote was true, the part about her having a great time. There was still time to try, though she didn’t know if it was possible. If her grandmother wasn’t going to let her have a good time then maybe she would have to find the good time herself. She always had an overactive imagination. She hadn’t used it recently because of her mother being sick. It was like dusting off a book that hasn’t been on the shelf for very long.

  She imagined worlds far beyond her own. Planets whizzed by her bedroom on the way around their suns. She flew past mountains and canyons. A dragon breathed fire and missed her by inches. She trudged through a dark and mysterious castle looking for treasure.

  That one stuck. She liked the idea so much that she flung her door open and went out into the hall. She walked slowly around the second floor, whispering to herself about all the things that were in the castle.

  “And here’s a treasure chest, but it’s empty . . . over there is a trap door . . . Look! A vicious attack lizard. Aw, it’s so cute.”

  Hazel made sure not to go near her grandmother’s door. Mrs. Norwich would probably not approve of such fantasy. The attic’s stairs loomed ahead, definitely the entrance to the monster’s lair. She climbed up cautiously, knowing that the monster might suddenly appear behind her. At the top of the stairs she looked out into the attic and saw the devilish creature that was guarding the treasure. In reality it was an empty filing cabinet, but in her imagination it was a fiendish man with a long beard and the tail of a lion; obviously a mistake with the transformation ray. Dr. Liontail was the greatest scientist of all time, and ironically he was trying to turn himself into a rhinoceros.

  Dr. Liontail picked up his transformation ray gun and began firing at her. Hazel jumped left and right and even rolled across the floor to avoid the blasts. She knew that the walls behind her were being destroyed and were burning with purple fire, but she also knew that the treasure was somewhere in that room.

  Suddenly the doctor started running right at her! She jumped down the stairs and ran back to her room. She closed the door and backed up against the wall, never taking her eyes from the door. She was stuck in a small tunnel, but the way was blocked by a large boulder. There was no escape, or was there? She had powers. Hazel lifted her arms high into the air and turned in circles as power built up inside her. She was just about to direct it at the door where Dr. Liontail was coming through when . . . she froze mid twirl. The castle disappeared instantly.

  The little brown box on her nightstand just made a noise. Or, at least something inside it did. There was a faint tap and the lid quivered. Hazel stepped closer, tilting her head to the side, hoping to better see the box in the moonlight coming in from the window. Another tap and another quiver. Hazel sat on her bed and watched. A third and much louder tap sent the lid flying across the room. Hazel jumped back, afraid of what would happen next.

  A small furry paw reached out of the box and gripped the side. Hazel’s eyes opened as wide as they could, and strained to be wider. A head appeared next, that of a bear. It tried to pull itself out, tipped the box, and spilled out onto the night stand. It picked itself up, shook its head vigorously, and then looked up at Hazel. She thought it was just about the cutest thing she had ever seen, but was too scared at that moment to want to pet it. It was a little black bear that was three inches tall and as real looking as anything else in the room.

  The little bear jumped down from the nightstand. It ran to the door, its furry arms flung carelessly behind it. Hazel jumped off the bed and followed. It stopped by the door. Hazel opened it and the bear ran down the hallway. If Hazel wanted an adventure, then following a tiny bear that appeared in a plain box through her grandmother’s house would be better than making one up.

  When Hazel caught up the bear took off again, down the stairs, stopping by the front door. It was decision time. If she followed the bear outside, she could get into so much trouble . . . if she was caught. Or she could go up to her room and go to sleep and wake up to find that it had all been a dream. She opened the door as fast as she could. How many times was she really going to get the chance to do this?

  The bear disappeared into the darkness. Hazel followed close behind. She could barely make out the dark bear on the dark grass. It stopped if it got too far ahead. It led her to the left of the house, into the forest. Hazel stopped. It would be hard to make excuses for a dirty dressing gown. The little bear ran into the trees. She figured she could think up an excuse later.

  The forest was dark and scary. Bugs made up most of the symphony around her, but there were a few animal calls that she couldn’t place. The bear did not give her time to think about that, it flew through the underbrush like it went right through it, which may have been exactly what it did. Hazel got cut and scraped by leaves and branches, but didn’t stop. It was as if there was some kind of energy driving her forward despite the danger.

  After a few more minutes of running and panting and almost tripping, the little bear stopped abruptly. They stood in a moonlit clearing, staring at each other. Everything was still and quiet. Not even the bugs lived that deep in the forest, or maybe they were being silent, waiting to see what happened next. Hazel stepped forward. The
bear took a step back, its black fur shining in the moonlight. She took another step, and so did the bear. One more step. This time the bear turned and Hazel saw a small pool of water in the center of the clearing. She went up to it. It was only a few inches deep. Something shined white by the moon, something mostly buried in mud. She got down on all fours and looked. It was buried too deep to tell what it was. The little bear stood on the edge of the pool. It lifted an arm towards the submerged object. Hazel shook her head.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  It continued to point at the water.

  “Do you want me to get that? What is it?”

  The bear did not move. Hazel wondered if it had completed its objective and now had to wait until she finished hers, whatever that was. She sighed and tested the water. It was cool, dirty. Green and brown morphed together as she reached down and felt something hard and smooth. Her hands closed around a circular object and pulled. A large muddy something came out of the water. She found some leaves and cleaned it off while the bear watched. It was a large ceramic doll. It was very old, had cracks all over its body, and was missing all of its clothes. It was greenish from being in the water for so long. Hazel found its face to be very disturbing, especially out in the middle of the woods. Its blue eyes looked dead as they stared out of its cracked head.

  Hazel did not want to touch it and got up to leave it there when the little bear made a horrible screech that no real bear would ever make. Hazel nearly fell over from fear. The bear pointed at the doll.

  “But it’s creepy looking.” Hazel complained.

  It continued to point. Hazel picked up the doll just so she wouldn’t have to hear that noise again. The little bear took the lead again and led Hazel back through the trees until they were at the house. Hazel opened the door and waited for the bear to go in, but it had vanished. She figured it was done with what it had to do.

  She took off her shoes for fear of mud stains and went back to her room. She closed the door and turned on the light. Her nightgown was muddy and had holes from where the branches hit. She carefully took it off and changed into the clothes she would wear the next day. She put down a towel from the bathroom under her bed and put her night gown and the doll on it, hoping that her grandmother would not feel like cleaning her room anytime soon.

  She wasn’t sure what the little bear wanted her to do with the doll, but she couldn’t throw it out after all it took to get it. Hazel went to sleep with the strange hope that she had imagined everything. She woke early and looked under her bed, the doll was still there.