Christmas at Stony Creek Page 2

  “But what about you?” said Pip. She longed to ask Aunt Pitty about Land’s End but didn’t dare. Aunt Pitty would tell Mama for sure.

  “Don’t worry about an old rabbit like me. I hardly eat anything these days.” Aunt Pitty put the sack on the floor next to Pip’s chair and rested her warm paw on the top of Pip’s head. “You just have to keep digging and scratching,” she said, looking into Pip’s eyes. “Even if it takes all day.”

  “It’s hard,” Pip said in a small voice. “Sometimes I’m afraid.”

  “We’re all afraid of something,” Aunt Pitty said kindly. “No one’s expecting you to turn brave overnight. Braveness is earned one step at a time, Pip. The first step’s usually the hardest. Don’t give up. You’ll get there.”

  Aunt Pitty settled herself into the chair beside the wood-burning stove and patted her lap. “Now, come over here and sit for a bit. Aunt Pitty will sing you a song.”

  Pip climbed gratefully onto Aunt Pitty’s lap and snuggled down.

  Maybe she would never have to take the first step, she thought. Maybe she could stay here, safe and warm, until Papa got home.

  Pip closed her eyes and listened.

  chapter 6

  Owl!

  Pip, wake up.”

  Pip reluctantly abandoned the warm comfort of sleep and sat up. “Is it Papa?” she said, rubbing her eyes. “Is he home?”

  “No, it’s not Papa.” For a minute Aunt Pitty’s kind face looked sad. Then she smiled. “You slept for an hour,” she said. “You’d better get going. It gets dark awfully early these days.”

  Pip followed her back down the tunnel to the door.

  “Take good care, now,” said Aunt Pitty, winding Pip’s scarf around her neck. “Don’t let this beautiful day trick you.” Pip grabbed her stick as Aunt Pitty held open the door. “Remember,” Aunt Pitty said, “everyone out there is as hungry as you are.”

  “I’ll be careful,” said Pip.

  Aunt Pitty’s sack was a reassuring weight against Pip’s back as she hurried down the slope to Stony Creek. She followed the creek past the deer beds for a while, making sure she stayed hidden in the bushes.

  When she reached the crooked bend in the creek called Old Man’s Leg, she saw what she had come for. The huge shagbark hickory was lying on its side. Its gnarled branches sticking out of the snow waved to her like fingers.

  Pip’s spirits soared as she ran into the clearing. All caution was left behind. She didn’t sense the danger until a shadow swept across the sky. Something dark and dangerous glided over her head.

  Owl.

  Wasn’t it too early for him to be out? Pip thought, looking wildly for a place to hide. It must be what Aunt Pitty said. Owl was as hungry as everyone else. And Pip was a delicious morsel.

  Oh, how could she have made such a foolish mistake?

  She was out in the open with no place to hide. The terrible sound of heavy wings was all around.

  The smell of her fear filled the air.

  Pip spotted a tiny hole in the ice straight ahead. It was her only hope. She hurled the sack to one side and heard the seeds and berries scatter across the ice as she started to run.

  The deadly swoosh of Owl’s wings came closer and closer. Pip dived toward the hole with a sob of relief.

  It was blocked.

  A thin sheet of ice lay across it like a cruel joke. It was the only thing between her and safety. Pip raised her stick over her head and brought it down with all her strength.

  The sound of shattering ice mingled with Owl’s screech as she slipped into the hole. Owl’s talons closed on empty air inches above the ground.

  She was safe. Pip hugged her stick to her side as she lay there, panting. Thank you, Uncle Hank. Thank you.

  As Owl’s angry voice faded in the distance, Pip’s heart slowed and became calm. When all was quiet, she poked her head out of the hole and looked around.

  The sack was lying empty on the ground.

  Only minutes before, it had been so full. Pip crawled out of the hole and picked up the limp sack as gently as if it held a sleeping baby.

  Because of her, Aunt Pitty’s precious gift was gone.

  What would Aunt Pitty think of her? And how could she bring herself to tell her mother what she’d lost? Pip realized then what she had to do.

  chapter 7

  “It Was the Trap”

  That night, when everyone in the house had gone to bed, Pip crept quietly into Will’s bedroom. “Will,” she whispered, “are you awake?”

  She climbed onto his bed and felt her way along it in the dark until she came to his feet. He was lying on his back, staring into the night.

  “I’m awake.” Will’s voice was flat.

  Pip drew her legs up inside her nightgown for warmth. “I need to know about Land’s End,” she said softly. “You have to tell me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But you have to. It’s the only place left,” Pip said. “There’s lots of food at Land’s End, isn’t there?”

  For a minute she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then, “Mountains of it,” Will said in a reluctant voice. “Crumbs under the table…crusts between the floorboards…dried bits of egg stuck to the seats of the chairs—”

  He stopped.

  “I have to go up there. You know I do.” Pip’s voice was calm. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. We don’t have anything to eat.”

  Will was quiet.

  “You need to tell me everything,” Pip said fiercely. “Where to go. What to look for. About Cat.”

  She stopped. She had never asked Will this question before. “It was Cat who killed Uncle Hank, wasn’t it?”

  The room was so still she heard someone moan in her sleep on the other side of the wall. Nibs, maybe. Or Nan.

  “No, it wasn’t Cat.” Will’s voice was barely a whisper. “It was the trap.”

  Will started to talk.

  He told her how quiet and strange the huge kitchen had felt in the moonlight. How he and Uncle Hank had started across the floor, searching for crumbs. How they’d heard a noise and started to run for cover under a cupboard.

  Suddenly Uncle Hank had stopped. “He told me to go on,” Will said in a whisper. “He said he would be with me in a minute.” Will’s voice broke.

  “Shhh…” Pip patted his feet the soothing way Mama would have done. “Hush,” she said. Will was quiet for a minute, and then he started again.

  Uncle Hank had turned and headed off toward the windows, alone.

  That’s when a movement caught Will’s eye. Cat was crouched in the doorway, ready to spring. Before he could cry out a warning, Will said, a deafening noise filled the room.

  A trap rose into the air as its jaws snapped shut.

  There was a cry from their uncle.

  Then silence.

  “I ran.” Will’s voice was full of shame. “When Cat’s nails sank into my leg, I thought I’d never see home again. Then Uncle Hank gave one last cry, and Cat turned. He let me go. Uncle Hank saved me, Pip,” Will said in a hushed voice. “I made it back through the crack in the wall and onto the porch.”

  Will’s voice stopped. Pip was almost afraid to breathe.

  “I can’t go back there,” he said. “I can’t.”

  “That’s all right.” Pip looked up at the window. She could see the moon shining down through the branches of their tree. “I’m not afraid to go by myself,” she said.

  She wished in her heart that it were true.

  chapter 8

  “I’ll Go Tonight”

  It was Christmas Eve. The house was filled with the smell of pine. Pip and Kit had dragged home all the pine branches they could find. They draped them over the fireplace. They hung them from the doorways. They spread them, soft and thick as a carpet, along the hall.

  The tallest bough, they declared, would be their tree.

  Nan and Nibs were decorating it now. They hung ornaments, oohing at their beauty. They tossed tinsel, giggling wh
en it missed. They chattered back and forth while they worked, their tiny eyes sparkling with excitement.

  Finny stood in her playpen and laughed.

  Mama had saved a bit of flour and some raisins. While the little girls took their naps, she baked a Christmas cake and hid it in the cupboard. It was smaller than any cake they ever had before, but still, it was a cake.

  “What will we have for Christmas dinner?” Nan said, jumping up and down. “Will we have cakes and puddings and sweets?”

  “Will this be the best Christmas ever?” cried Nibs. “Will it, Mama? Will it?”

  “Hush, you sillies.” Mama laughed and swept them up in her arms. “It’s a surprise, you know that.”

  “But what if Papa isn’t here?” asked Nan, suddenly serious.

  “We can’t have Christmas without Papa,” said Nibs.

  Pip felt the sudden sting of tears. She draped her last bough over the mantel. She wiped her eyes.

  “I’ll go call Will for dinner,” she told her mother quickly. She let herself out of the house and ran down the path to Stony Creek.

  Will was coming toward her as fast as he could, dragging his leg behind him.

  “Great news, Pip!” he called. “The people are gone! They’re not there!”

  He was out of breath when he reached her side. “I was talking to Squirrel, you know Squirrel, he knows everything. He told me the people have gone away for Christmas. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “But there won’t be any food if they’re not there,” said Pip.

  “Sure there will,” Will scoffed. “People leave it all over the place. They never clean it up. There will be plenty of food. And no Cat.” He said the words slowly, saving the best for last.

  “No Cat?”

  “Squirrel said the people sent him to a place where he’ll be taken care of while they’re gone. Big bully can’t even take care of himself.”

  “Oh, Will, that means it’s safe!” cried Pip.

  “As long as you don’t touch the trap,” Will warned. “But you’d better get up there soon, before the word gets out.”

  “I’ll go tonight.”

  “Promise me you won’t go near the trap.”

  “I promise.”

  “No matter what?”

  Pip looked back at him with shining eyes. “No matter what.”

  chapter 9

  Pip’s First Step

  The bowl Pip was drying slipped and fell to the floor with a clatter.

  “What’s wrong with you tonight?” Mama asked. “That’s the second dish you’ve dropped.”

  “It’s Christmas Eve,” said Pip. She picked up the bowl and put it carefully on the shelf. “I’m excited, that’s all.”

  “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

  “I’m fine. Really.” Pip ducked her head to avoid her mother’s worried look. All she wanted was for the evening to be over and everyone to be in bed.

  When Finny began fussing in her high chair, Mama went to comfort her. The twins came and leaned against Pip.

  “When’s Papa coming home?” said Nan, tugging at the hem of Pip’s skirt. “We never have Christmas without Papa.”

  “Will we still get presents if he isn’t here?” asked Nibs.

  Pip picked them up and carried them, squirming, to the fireplace. “Why, what else do you think you’re getting for Christmas?” she said, sitting in Papa’s chair with one on either side. “Papa, tied up in a red bow!”

  The little girls giggled.

  “He isn’t a present,” said Nan. “He’s our papa.”

  “Yes, and we can’t dress him up and play with him,” added Nibs. “Besides, we’re getting dolls.”

  “Because that’s what we asked for,” finished Nan.

  “Come along, girls,” Mama said from the doorway. “If you don’t go to bed now, you’ll be too tired to play with those dolls, won’t you?”

  “I’m going to bed, too,” said Pip. “Good night.”

  She brushed her teeth and slid under her quilt, still in her clothes. She could hear Mama singing to Nibs and Nan as she tucked them in, then saying good night to Kit and Will.

  Mama came into Pip’s room last. Pip held her covers tight under her chin when Mama sat down on the edge of her bed.

  “I want to thank you for being so grown-up about Christmas,” Mama said. “You’ve never complained about having to do Will’s job or not getting enough to eat. When Papa gets home, I’m going to tell him how brave you’ve been.”

  “I haven’t done anything brave,” said Pip.

  “Sometimes keeping your fears to yourself is the bravest act of all,” said Mama. She kissed Pip’s cheek. “Good night, Pip.”

  “He’ll be home tomorrow,” Pip said when her mother reached her door. “I know he will.”

  “Yes, and it will be the best Christmas ever,” said Mama. “Just as Nibs said.”

  Across the room they looked at each other and smiled.

  chapter 10

  Land’s End

  It was cold and very late.

  Mama had sat up in front of the fire for a long time. Pip had had to pinch herself to stay awake. The clock in the dining room was chiming midnight before she finally heard her mother’s bedroom door close.

  Pip hopped out of bed, grabbed her stick, and crept down the hall to the front door. Will was already there.

  “Be careful,” he whispered as he held the door open. “Don’t forget your promise.”

  “I won’t,” said Pip. The door clicked quietly behind her.

  She stood stock-still in the night. She strained her eyes to see, her ears to hear.

  Not a footstep. Not a sound. Even the wind was asleep.

  She looked longingly at the round window behind her. She thought about her family, warm and safe in their beds. And then she thought about Papa.

  Was Papa safe and warm tonight? Or was he alone, cold and hurt?

  Pip drew a deep breath and held her stick more tightly against her.

  If Papa could be brave, so could she.

  There was no more time to waste. Pip scurried from rock to bush. From bush to log. Hiding, ever hiding, from eyes in the night. The air smelled clean and cold. I can do this, Pip thought. I can!

  She ran faster and faster without making a sound, never staying in the open for long. She didn’t see another living creature the whole journey. Finally, she came to the stone wall that marked the end of the woods and the beginning of the huge field she would have to cross.

  Pip saw it the minute she reached the top of the stone wall.

  Land’s End.

  It towered over the horizon, its blank windows staring down at Pip like empty eyes. Pip looked ahead at the steep hill she would have to climb and shivered.

  “You’d better hurry if you want to get anything.” Pip’s heart gave a great leap as Squirrel jumped up onto the wall next to her. “I saw the rats from North Woods heading that way,” he said. “They’ll take it all.”

  “They can’t,” Pip cried. “It’s mine!”

  “I wouldn’t try telling them that if I were you,” said Squirrel. “A tiny thing like you is no match for them.”

  “Tiny can be good,” Pip said defiantly, drawing herself up. “Tiny can be brave.”

  “I certainly hope so, for your sake. Good luck!” Squirrel called as he ran off into the woods.

  Pip started across the field.

  The food’s ours, she thought as she ran. Nibs’s and Nan’s. Finny’s. Kit’s. Will’s. Greedy rats aren’t going to take it from us. I won’t let them.

  Pip didn’t think about Owl. She ran.

  Dried stalks stuck up through the snow, casting ghostly shadows. Craggy heaps of dirt, dumped by careless bulldozers, rose in front of her like mountains. Up and down, around and around. Use your stick, Pip. Keep going. Don’t give up.

  By the time she reached the bottom of the hill, Pip was panting and exhausted. And oh, what a hill it was.

  Jagged rocks jutted from its
steep side like rows of unfriendly teeth. The wind had blown away the snow to reveal frozen dirt. There was no grass. No trees. Only a few sad roots, few and far between, for her to cling to.

  Pip didn’t know how she would make it. Then she heard Aunt Pitty’s voice. Braveness is earned one step at a time.

  Pip began to climb.

  Her feet slid on the slick dirt. Clumps of coarse bush loomed in front of her. Pip jabbed her stick into the hill, again and again. She pulled herself around every root, each bush. One step after the other, she climbed.

  Jab, pull. Jab, pull. Rest.

  Jab, pull. Jab, pull.

  When she reached the top, she threw herself onto the flat ground with a sob. She’d made it. She crawled gratefully forward and looked up.

  She was lying at the bottom of the porch steps. They stretched as far as her eye could see. At the top the porch sat empty and serene. Waiting.

  Pip slowly stood and walked forward. She reached out to touch the bottom step. It was covered with a layer of slippery ice. All the steps would be covered with a layer of slippery ice.

  All the way to the top.

  Pip grabbed the edge of the bottom step and tried to pull herself up. She slid back. She tried again. She slid back.

  It was too slippery. She would never make it.

  Climb the lattice. The soft voice whispering in her head was Will’s. The lattice will be easier, he had said.

  Pip ran around to the side of the house. Lattice was nailed to the steps so animals couldn’t crawl underneath. Pip saw the narrow boards, nailed together in a crisscross pattern, with friendly little spaces between them she could grab on to and pull. She took a deep breath and started to climb.

  First this way, then that. Grab here, put your foot there.

  Slowly Pip crisscrossed her way to the top and slipped over the edge onto the porch. She had made it. And there was the wood box on one side of the door, the way Will had said.

  Pip slipped behind the box and in through the crack between the edge of the door and the house and looked cautiously around the strange place she had entered.

  Huge and silent, the room was as chilly as a tomb. Wooden cabinets rose to touch the ceiling high above her head. A table with four chairs stood in the middle of the floor. The refrigerator hummed; a clock ticked.