Sandhill Street: The Loss of Gentleness
Book 3 of The City Allegories Series
By Rob Summers
Copyright 2005 by Rob Summers
Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE, Copyright 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by the Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.
No actual persons are represented in this book.
Table of Contents
Part 1 Sluggards’ Lot
Chapter 1 Prevarica Leasing
Chapter 2 The Loose Board in the Fence
Chapter 3 It Comes to That
Chapter 4 Wittily Plots Revenge
Chapter 5 The Bon Voyage
Chapter 6 Wittily’s Commission
Part 2 The Loss of Gentleness
Chapter 7 The Lockout
Chapter 8 The New Girl Fret
Chapter 9 Pinching the Goods
Chapter 10 In Miss Worry’s Room
Chapter 11 Invitation to Leasing House
Chapter 12 Gentleness on Trial
Chapter 13 Prevarica Summons Christmas Early
Part 3 The Battle of Sandhill Street
Chapter 14 Calling Down Fire
Chapter 15 Mayor-Elect Therion
Chapter 16 Dr. Provocation
Chapter 17 The Dispute Over the Body
Chapter 18 The Return of Gentleness
Part 4 The Abandonment of Folly
Chapter 19 Aunt Arctica
Chapter 20 Listening to Confusion
Chapter 21 The Bell of the Beast
Chapter 22 Listening to Wisdom
Chapter 23 No Answer
Chapter 24 The Truth About Fret
Part 5 The Gloria Dothan
Chapter 25 The Curse Falls on Dread House
Chapter 26 The Petition to Grace
Chapter 27 The Navy Ball
Chapter 28 A Happy Ending at Leasing House
Chapter 29 An Old Hellite Trick
Chapter 30 Celebrations
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Preface
The key to the allegory is that the houses represent persons; and the characters in a given house represent various character traits of, and influences upon, that person. Therefore, there are much fewer persons in the City Allegories books than there are characters (character traits).
Part I Sluggards’ Lot
Chapter 1 Prevarica Leasing
“Slothie went home crying because the building inspectors were at her house today.”
Prevarica Leasing spoke with evident relish while holding her Padme mask away from her face so that the rubber bands stretched on both sides. At 8 p.m. on Halloween the skinny little eleven-year-old was under a street lamp and surrounded by most of the Sandhill Street kids, all in costume and holding half-full trick-or-treat bags. She looked at Wisdom as she spoke, causing him to feel suddenly, unexpectedly favored. But maybe, he considered, this was just because she had to look out sideways from behind her mask and he happened to be standing at a fortunate angle from her. He hoped for her favor, but couldn’t expect it from a girl a year older than him and so pretty.
“The inspectors have been to Sluggard House every week for six months,” Prevarica continued, “and they say there’s nothing they can do about it; it’s going to collapse no matter what. Slothie’s dad has spent all his money trying to fix it up, but it’s no use. In fact I think it’s probably…” she lowered her voice dramatically “…it’s probably going to collapse tonight.”
One of the little girls, Snivel Dread, screamed a small scream.
“Then Slothie and Muddy and Nap and their parents will have to go away and will never be seen again. It will happen at midnight.”
Wisdom did not really believe this. The neighborhood gossips had expected the momentary demise of Sluggard House for so long that he had taught himself not to take it seriously. Nevertheless, he felt that there was something special and awful about Halloween night. Outside the circle of light under the street lamp it was pretty dark. Things might happen.
Prevarica pulled her mask down now, looking over it, and turned her large eyes from a witch, to the Thing, to Darth Vader (who was Wisdom). “You may not believe this, but I know that the Sluggard family already have their bags packed—they’ve been packed for months—and they sleep in their clothes so they’ll be ready, you know, to run outside when the walls crumble.”
As this drew murmurs from the children, Wisdom noticed, looking past Prevarica’s shoulder, that a flashlight was approaching them, its beam directed toward the ground. This meant that one of the big girls was coming back to them, and in a moment he saw that it was Wittily Dread, with Muddy and Nap Sluggard keeping close to her. When Slothie, the Sluggards’ oldest child, had broken down, Wittily had walked her friend the short distance to Sluggard House. Slothie apparently had gone home to stay.
Wittily of course wore no costume because she was eighteen and beyond that sort of thing. She and Slothie had come out tonight only to watch over their younger siblings and any other neighborhood children who had wanted to join the group.
“The Sluggards don’t sleep in their clothes, do they? I don’t think Muddy does,” Quake said to Prevarica uncertainly. He was twelve, and a burly boy, but far from bold.
“They do!” Prevarica insisted. She was turned away from Wittily’s approach and still had not seen her. “And they don’t get a wink of sleep because of worrying and because it’s a hopeless case. And the inspector, today he told them the house won’t last out the night.”
“Prevarica Leasing!” Wittily was now upon her angrily. “Don’t say such stupid things. Do you want to frighten Muddy and Nap?”
“Their house isn’t going to fall down, is it?” Wittily’s little brother Grovel asked.
“No, of course it isn’t. Prevarica? Prevarica!”
The girl had let her mask pop back into place and turned to her the frozen features of the beautiful galactic senator.
“I want you to tell everyone that you made that up. Tell them now.”
Prevarica stiffened her skinny little back. “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my older sister. And besides, it’s all true!”
Instead of arguing, Wittily laughed, and that laugh made Wisdom feel suddenly quite sure that it was all a mistake, that Prevarica was wrong.
“Kids,” Wittily said, “do you think Mr. and Mrs. Sluggard could be ready to run out of the house and I wouldn’t know it from Slothie? And Muddy and Nap, do you sleep in your clothes?”
The younger Sluggards insisted that they did not.
“Well, then Prevarica is making up wild, cruel stories,” Wittily concluded. She added to Prevarica, “I’m going to tell your parents.”
“Mom and Dad know it’s true,” Prevarica said icily. “And you, you’re nothing but a rotten liar, and you’re saying it’s not true because you know it is, and you just don’t want people to know.”
Despite the open hatred in the girl’s tone, Wittily laughed again. “You’re busted, Prevarica. Give it up. Look, you’re good at improvising these stories. I’ll give you credit for that. You could write for Hollywood. But it’s no use trying to fool adults.”
“You’re not an adult,” Prevarica said. “Come on, kids, let’s go trick-or-treat somewhere without her.” She started to run down the sidewalk.
“Sorry to divide your flock of parrots,” Wittily shouted after her, “but my brothers and sister stay with me, and so do the Sluggard kids now that Slothie’s not with us. I just w
orked that out with their parents.”
“Everybody come with me!” Prevarica insisted.
Only her own little brothers came to her. Wisdom then found himself a person of interest, since he had to decide both for himself and for little Favor and Blessing, his distant cousins whom he was shepherding, who to follow. His face flushed behind his mask.
“Do whatever you want, Wiz,” Wittily told him a little roughly. “I’ve got enough kids to keep track of.”
He knew he was supposed to be out with Wittily and Slothie, and now at least with Wittily. But it sounded as if Wittily didn’t want him. If so, he might get to roam around unsupervised. That prospect was not so exciting however, with two little kids for him to look after. On the other hand, he didn’t want to offend Prevarica by going with Wittily. To avoid all difficulties he announced that he would go home and get one of the older kids from his house to be a leader.
“Oh, that’s right,” Prevarica said scornfully, coming closer. “Run to mommy. You just want to be out with someone older in case you get scared.” She leaned so close that only he could hear. “Black people are afraid,” she whispered.
Wisdom’s father was black and his mother white. He was the only non-white kid on the street.
“I’m going home with Favor and Blessing,” he said loudly, he hoped loudly enough to cover his own confusion and shock. He pulled his mask around to behind his head, the rubber band under his chin, as if to show everyone that he was done trick-or-treating for now.
Wittily did not object. Favor and Blessing offered their hands to him, one on each side, and they started on the short walk, just half a block. There were teenagers at home, and he would get one of them to go trick-or-treating with them.
His house was visible from the corner, for it was at the highest point on Sandhill Street and was a hulking three-story place. It had rather a complicated history. Wisdom’s distant cousin Dignity had owned it, and to most people Dignity still seemed to be the owner. But before Wisdom was born Dignity had allowed in a large family of Heavenites, the Orchards, and also the old Heavenite Ambassador Grace, who now was truly in charge. With them had come Wisdom’s father Truth, also a Heavenite, who had married Reason, Wisdom’s mother and Dignity’s second cousin. Then Dignity had married a townswoman named Obscurity, and Favor and Blessing were their children. Add in all the household friends, relatives, and servants, and Grace House was a crowded, a bustling place. Wisdom had never lacked for company.
Because of the arrival of the Heavenites, Wisdom’s house was easily the oddest house on Sandhill Street, or perhaps in the whole City. His parents had explained to Wisdom that their property was not under the authority of the City—though the City refused to admit it. Wisdom had grown up obeying the City laws and going to the City school, but he was a citizen of another country, of Heaven. Add to this his complexion and his sky high IQ, and it was no wonder that he had trouble making friends outside his home.
Ever since he had become old enough to roam the neighborhood without adult supervision, he had particularly wanted to make friends with Prevarica because she was pretty, seemed to know everything, and had the allegiance of most of the other kids. No one knew half as much as she about the latest music and TV shows, and she also had information about what was fashionable in clothing. She had laughed when she learned that Wisdom’s TV watching was limited almost exclusively to the Heaven Channel. It was through her that he had learned that he was daily missing a soap opera called ‘Love Maze.’ (Her mother recorded it for Prevarica while she was at school.) She made it sound pretty interesting, telling the other kids how Cologne (this was apparently a woman’s first name) was presently married to multi-millionaire Clint after divorcing his son Blade. There were obviously things in the world that Wisdom knew nothing about and that his parents perhaps didn’t know either. They never watched ‘Love Maze.’
Prevarica was always pairing off with some other girl her own age, usually Muddy Sluggard, and reserved little favor for others, especially those younger than herself. All the younger kids existed only for her to organize when she decided to play at something that required more than two. Nevertheless, until this evening Wisdom had not quite given up on his dream of being appreciated and accepted as a close friend by Prevarica. But this was the first time she had said anything prejudiced about his skin color. It had shocked and sickened him to the extent that he still hadn’t settled into a definable response. It was just wrong. But what should he do about it, if anything?
These considerations were soon put out of his mind by something else. He had led Favor and Blessing almost up the concrete steps from the sidewalk to their front yard, when a tremendous rumbling reached them from down the street. He had never heard anything like this, something so loud it shook the ground. He stood still with the littler kids’ hands still in his and knew that something monumental had happened, something bigger, and perhaps worse, than he had yet known in his short life. And it had come out of nowhere in the midst of ordinary happenings and in his own neighborhood. He would have to rethink the world after this.
“What is it, Wiz?” Blessing asked from behind his SpongeBob SquarePants mask.
Wisdom looked down the street and saw that the outline of house roofs in the next block had changed: there was a gap.
“I think Sluggard House just went down,” he said, hardly believing his own words. “Quick, get inside.”
The children readily obeyed, and Wisdom, pausing only to shout his news into the open doorway for the benefit of anyone who might hear, turned and ran back down the street.