“So what makes you think Aunt Lillian went over there?”

  “Well, Granddad’s told me about this friendship she’s got with some tree spirit in the orchard and how every time he used to come up here he’d half-expect her to have gone off into manidd-aki with him.”

  “John Creek,” I said. “That’s who your grandfather is, right?”

  It was coming back to me now.

  He smiled. “That’s right. And I’m still Oliver.”

  “Aunt Lillian’s told me about you.”

  “All good, I hope.”

  I don’t know why it came over me, but I had to duck my head to hide a blush.

  “Well, that’s where she went,” I said, hiding behind my hair and pretending to look at something on the ground. “Into that otherworld with the Apple Tree Man.”

  “She leave the place in your care?”

  I nodded.

  “So you mind if I come by from time to time?” he asked.

  I looked up at him. “You don’t have to. I’m not as old as Aunt Lillian—at least not yet. I can do the heavy work.”

  “I wasn’t offering to do work,” he said, “though I’m happy to lend a hand. I was thinking more of just coming by to visit.”

  “Why would you want to do that?”

  I don’t know why that came out the way it did. I was just too nervous, I guess. And now I figured I’d just insulted him or something. But he only smiled.

  “Because I like you, Sarah Jane,” he said. “And I’d like to get to know you better.”

  He got up then and fetched his ax from where he’d stuck it in the chopping stump.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said. “I promised Granddad I’d come by and give him a hand mending his traps before it got dark.”

  I stood up and didn’t know what to do with my hands.

  “Thanks for all your help,” I said. “I would’ve been at this all day if you hadn’t come by.”

  “No problem. You busy tomorrow?”

  I thought about a hundred things I still had to do, from chores to getting the place ready for winter, and almost said so when I realized what he was really asking.

  “No,” I said and then I got real brave. “Would you like to come for dinner?”

  “I’ll count the minutes,” he said with a grin.

  He gave Root a quick pat, tapped his index finger against his temple and pointed it at me, then headed off, back across the field. I just stood there watching him go until he disappeared in among the trees, then sat back down on the stump and hugged my knees.

  “You hear that, Root?” I said. “He said he liked me.”

  So I guess that’s my story.

  If you want to know more about Aunt Lillian and the Apple Tree Man, or if the Father of Cats ever came to see me, or even what kind of mischief Ruth and Grace got into with Li’l Pater—those are all stories for another time.

  Anything else … well, it’s nobody’s business but my own.

 


 

  Charles de Lint, Tapping the Dream Tree

 


 

 
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