Chapter
1: Coffins on the Lawn
Natalie and Jason stood inside the sliding glass door looking out into their grandparent’s back yard in disbelief. It was a disaster. Tree branches lay scattered across the lawn. A large cottonwood had fallen across the creek, its roots once buried, now swung in the air washed clean by the heavy rains. A sleek layer of wet brown mud covered the green grass and glistened in the new sun. The silty coat ended abruptly about 20 feet from Grandpa’s patio marking the high water mark of the flood. But that wasn’t the worst of it. In fact, Natalie and Jason hardly paid attention to the mud and debris. The worst was the coffins. There were about twenty of them scattered through the backyard. Some were simple pine boxes. Others were elaborate polished caskets with brass handles. Some were washed up onto the lawn. Some were still in the creek bed where water flowed carelessly over or through them on its way to Anogan Lake. Most had closed lids, but some were open. Jason peered carefully through the glass looking for bones. “I don’t see anything,” he said after a long silence.
“Ewww!” Natalie complained. “Good thing! Do you want nightmares?”
Jason smirked bravely, but inside, he was glad no bones …
or something even worse, were in sight. Skeletons
on TV gave him the creeps. A real
live skeleton would probably give him nightmares for a week.
Mrs. Brown walked up behind them and said as cheerfully as
she could, “Well, the tropical storm sure made a mess, didn’t it?
All these coffins… I just can’t think of anything worse.”
Both Jason and Natalie shook their heads in agreement.
“At least they’re quiet!” Mr. Brown offered.
Grandpa chuckled behind his newspaper, but Mrs. Brown was not amused.
“The wind was unbelievable,” Natalie continued. “Things were flying everywhere. And remember when we heard the huge crack and saw the tree come down?”
“Yes. Grandma was very upset.”
“What about that crazy man we saw outside? He looked more like an appa … an app …” Jason struggled to get the word out. “What did grandma called him?”
“An apparition!” Natalie laughed.
“Oh yes, Mr. Driver,” Mrs. Brown shook her head. “He could have been killed. What he was doing out there, I’ll never know.”
The two kids looked at each other and shrugged. After their experience with Mr. Driver over the past two days, they didn’t care if they ever saw him again.
The tropical storm had been one of the mightiest they had ever experienced, a one in fifty-year storm event. Seven inches of rain fell that night turning the small creek in the back yard into a raging torrent. It had washed out the Marblehead Cemetery carrying mud and coffins down stream dumping them along the banks as the waters receded in the early morning.
After the power went out, the darkness was complete and no one could see the damage that was being done. There were plenty of hints though, the howl of the wind, the crack of thunder, and the pounding of the rain on the roof. Getting to sleep had been difficult. Natalie and Jason lay awake for a long time listening. The wind reminded them of the big bad wolf, and they wondered if the house would be blown down. Eventually, they drifted into dreamland only to be wakened early in the morning by a screech from Grandma. Grandpa, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, Natalie and Jason all came running to see what was the matter. Mrs. Brown held her mother-in-law close and helped her to a chair. Natalie sat close and held her hand, but Grandma was distraught and kept repeating, “Forty years, and I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Now, Natalie and Jason stood at the window surveying the devastation and wondered how this all could have happened.
Chapter 2: Two
Days Ago
“Wow, will you look at this. I just can’t believe how much Owana has changed.” Mr. Brown looked out every window of the car and although he had his hand on the wheel, he was barely steering.
“Maybe I should drive,” Mrs. Brown said sitting on the edge her seat.
“Yeah Dad. You’re scaring me,” Natalie agreed.
“Oh! Sorry! It’s just that everything is so different. I mean it’s still the town I grew up in, it’s still Owana. The streets are the same, but the buildings … new buildings everywhere. It’s amazing!”
“Yes, well we’d love to live long enough to see grandma and grandpa, if you don’t mind,” Mrs. Brown scolded him.
“We’ll be there in a minute. Look, there’s White Pond. Boy, it sure looks small! I used to catch tadpoles and fish there when I was your age Jason.”
Jason looked up mildly interested. The pond looked more like a mud puddle. The water was muddy brown, and the banks were plain dirt except for a small remnant patch of trees at the far side. Nothing like the deep blue lake and green forests at home, he thought to himself.
“And here’s Marblehead Cemetery. But look Honey, they’ve cut down all the old trees. Hey Natalie and Jason, do you remember the Swinging Tree. Last time we were here, I brought you two down here, and we swung on the low hanging branch. Now, that was fun.”
Jason shrugged his shoulders, but Natalie nodded her head and said, “I remember … vaguely. How old were we then?”
“Let’s see. It’s
been four years since we were here last…
You can do the math.”
Natalie looked around at the
denuded landscape. She remembered
the trees that surrounded the pond and lined the street, tall green Poplars with
massive trunks and weeping willows with their long beautiful branches.
She couldn’t remember the stream flowing out of the pond and meandering
past the cemetery. It was probably hidden in trees and brush.
Now, all the plants were gone. Not
even a stump remained. The creek
bubbled along its bed walled in by hay bales and a silt curtain.
Next to the pond, was a large graded plot with stakes pricking the ground
in neat rows marking the location of a future building.
A bulldozer sat motionless next to a large mud puddle.
Natalie had no feeling for the place, just a few memories of driving to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Grandma and Grandpa’s house, now that was a place rich with memories. Grandma and Grandpa loved board games and playing cards, and always had the best snacks and candies for them. Their garden was a colorful quilt of flowers, exotic plants, and strawberries. Oh the strawberries, large, red, and sweet. Natalie loved them almost as much as Grandpa did. She also remembered the small creek in the back yard. It was full of fish and turtles that they could catch. To Natalie, Owana was Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Perhaps it was only a small microcosm of the City, but it was what she loved.
Mr. Brown pulled the car into the entrance to the Poplar Tree Estates. The security guard said he was expecting them and opened the gate. Moments later they could see Grandma and Grandpa standing on the street waving to them.
Hugs and kisses were followed by hauling suitcases and bags into the small house, and offers of tea and cookies. After Natalie and Jason had eaten their share, Mrs. Brown suggested they play in the creek, while the adults chatted. They didn’t need to be asked twice. Slipping out the back door, they ran across the lawn and down to the creek which babbled quietly through thick grasses, cattails, and bullrushes. Three ducks immediately took flight, and splashing could be heard as several critters darted into the water.
Jason ran up to the water’s edge and peered into a small pool. Small fish darted here and there, but no frogs or turtles were in sight.
“Rats,” said Jason who badly wanted to catch a turtle. “They heard us coming. We’ve got to be sneakier.”
But Natalie didn’t answer. She was looking up at a very tall poplar tree standing next to the creek, and she didn’t like what she saw. Its leaves were pale green and shriveled. If it was alive, it didn’t look very healthy, she thought.
“Poisoned!” Grandpa called out to her from the balcony.
Natalie looked back at him quizzically. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“Someone poisoned that tree and killed it.”
Jason heard the word poison and came to see what was going on. “How do you poison a tree?” he asked.
“Oh, there are lots of ways to kill a tree,” Grandpa answered. “In this case, they drilled some holes in the trunk and filled them with copper sulfate. Look at the trunk about four feet off the ground, and you’ll see.”
Natalie and Jason searched the trunk and were surprised to find four small holes bored deeply into the wood. The holes were empty now, but under each was a faint dark blue streak that ran down the bark, a stain left by the chemical.
“This is horrible!” Natalie cried in disgust. “Who would do such a thing?”
“Oh, some of our neighbors don’t like the trees and grasses around the creek. They say it’s too messy. Look down stream about 50 feet. You’ll see all the aquatic grasses have been pulled out.”
Natalie and Jason marched downstream and were shocked to find that the tall grasses and bulrushes ended abruptly giving way to a mud bank. They were about to take a closer look when they heard a voice from one of the neighbor’s homes.
“Hey you kids. Get out of there!”
At first they couldn’t see anyone. Then a tall man in an old white T-shirt stepped out on to his patio. His eyes glared at them angrily, and Natalie and Jason froze where they were.
“Well, what part of “Get away from there”, don’t you understand?” the man bellowed.
“Y –yes sir,” Jason and Natalie mumbled backing up. Then they heard footsteps behind them and saw Grandpa walking briskly toward them.
“Now, hold on a minute, Petre,” Grandpa spoke sternly. This is common property here and you have no right chasing anybody off. In addition, these are my grandkids, and I’ll not have you talking to them like that.”
“Figures, they’re yours,” Petre spat. “Tree huggin’ and frog kissin’ idiots.” The man reached down, picked up a pine cone and threw it at Grandpa striking him on the leg. Both Natalie and Jason gasped in disbelief, but Grandpa seemed to take in stride. “I don’t think that’s going to help your cause, Petre,” he said quietly.
The other man huffed, picked up another pine cone, and threw it this time hitting Grandpa in the chest. “Git out of here!” he bellowed bending down to pick up yet another cone.
Grandpa sighed held his hand out to the two kids. “Com’on, Nat and J. Let’s go home. Looks like Mr. Driver didn’t take his meds this morning. No sense trying to reason with him.”
Chapter
3: Working with Grandpa
“He did what?” Grandma exclaimed. Mr. and Mrs. Brown sat at the table dumbfounded.
“Is he unstable?” Mrs. Brown asked alarmed. “Are you in any danger?”
“No.”
“Maybe.”
Grandma and Grandpa looked at each other.
“Look. Petre’s issue is not with us exactly,” Grandpa continued. “He wants all of the vegetation around the creek removed because he doesn’t like the look of it. He thinks it’s messy and lowers the value of his condominium.”
“Ugly?” Jason blurted. “How could he think that? It’s beautiful!”
Grandpa nodded and said, “We think so too, Jason. But he’s angry because I chair the Grounds Committee, and we’re going to adopt the city’s bylaws which say that the creek is not to be disturbed in any way.”
Natalie broke into the conversation saying, “Dad, isn’t NJ Environmental supposed to get special permission from the Conservation Commission if you want to work within 100 feet of a creek?”
“Yes,” Mr. Brown agreed. “We’d get a big fine if we didn’t.”
“The same law applies here,” Grandpa said. “But Mr. Driver doesn’t care.”
“What about the ducks and the fish and the turtles?” asked Jason.
“He doesn’t give a hoot about them either. He pulled out all of the creek grass in front of his house one night. He just left them lying on the lawn in front of our house. To tell you the truth, we believe he’s the one who poisoned the tree.”
Natalie and Jason looked at each other in disbelief. They’d never heard of such things. But, after having met Mr. Driver, they didn’t doubt it.
“I still want to know if he’s a danger to you,” Mrs. Brown stated matter of factly.
“No.”
“Maybe.”
Grandma and Grandpa looked at each other again.
Quickly Grandpa continued, “We have a Grounds Committee meeting tonight. There will be some fireworks for sure. Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”
“Oh yes,” Grandma added. “Petre has been visiting all of my lady friends and forcing them to sign his petition, so he can get on the Committee. Then he’ll try to force the Committee to reject the City’s bylaws and clean out the creek.”
“But it’s against the law!” Natalie cried.
“We know. We know. But Petre is forcing us to take this action.”
There was a moment of silence as the Browns considered the proposal. Mr. Brown had been looking forward to relaxing at home. This story was all too familiar to him. He had met plenty of people like Mr. Driver and knew there was little that could be done to dissuade him. They were people who just could not be reasoned with. But he was concerned about the welfare of his parents. They certainly could be in danger. As it was, the decision was made for him by Natalie.
“I want to go to the meeting,” she said abruptly.
“Ugh,” Jason slapped his forehead. He knew that if their parents went to the meeting tonight, he and Natalie could spend a couple of hours watching cartoons. Now, a beautiful evening with the television was in serious jeopardy.
An awkward silence filled the room for a moment. Grandpa shook his head and Mrs. Brown looked very nervous. Natalie wasn’t about to let them say “No”, so she added, “How can I help you to prepare for tonight, Grandpa?”
Grandpa started to thank her for the kind offer, thinking it was the right thing to do, but stopped himself as he regarded the poised young lady in front of him. It had been four years since he’d seen Natalie. Four very long years, and she had grown considerably. This was perhaps a great opportunity to spend some time with her and get to know his granddaughter. He looked at his son, who himself looked older than he remembered. There were a few more wrinkles under his eyes, and his sideburns were peppered with gray. He wondered if he looked older to them as well. Sometimes he felt really old especially when dealing with Petre.
Mr. Brown nodded, acknowledging his father’s thoughts, and said, “You won’t regret it.”
“I accept your offer, young lady,” Grandpa said happily. To his surprise Natalie held out her hand to shake on the deal. He shook it with a widening grin.
“Oops. What about that grandson of mine,” he said smartly looking around at Jason.
“Alright,” Jason grumbled looking very glum. There goes my night of cartoons, he thought to himself.
“Come on, Tiger!” Mr. Brown laughed rustling his son’s hair. “I know you’ll have a great time with Grandpa.”
Jason smiled and tried took look upbeat. “When do we start?”
“Right now, of course!”
Chapter
4: Wild Bird Sanctuary
Natalie eagerly followed
Grandpa into his den with Jason close behind.
She looked forward to working with him and getting to know her
grandfather on another level. He
was kind and quick to laugh, and he loved board games, but she had no idea what
he had done for work before retiring, if he played sports, or what his hobbies
were. It had never occurred to her
to ask. He was just Grandpa, and
that was good enough. Now she was suddenly full of questions about him.
At the same time, she was worried. She had seen the concern in her mother’s face about Mr. Driver, and she felt it too. He was a big angry man and crazy too. Throwing pine cones was bad enough. How far would he go? The thought of seeing him again tonight was unsettling. At least her mom and dad would be there to help out if they were needed.
Natalie relaxed into a green comfortable-looking
recliner in the corner and looked around the den.
The shelves were stuffed with books, not novels, but expensive-looking
hard cover books with titles like “Aerodynamics” and “Flight of the Kitty
Hawk” Several pictures hung on
the wall of grandpa. In each, he
was wearing a black bomber jacket and standing next to a small plane.
On the desk was a large model wooden plane.
It had a single propeller on the nose cone and a light blue fuselage with
red and white numbers on the side. She
wondered if grandpa was a pilot. She
could picture him flying a plane. He
was adventurous and fun, two things she thought were essential for a good pilot
in far off lands and exotic countries.
“OK kids,” Grandpa said opening a file drawer and pulling a thin manila folder. “So far, I’ve talked to the committee about the bylaws governing the rivers and lakes. They weren’t very receptive. Old folks don’t like being told what to do.”
“I have a question, Gramps,” Natalie said. “Why does the town care if you clear out the creek?”
“Conservation and environmental stuff, I suppose.” Grandpa laid open the folder on his desk.
“Maybe they would be more agreeable if they knew more about the law and the reasons behind it. I mean, they like the ducks, so if they knew the ducks would disappear if the aquatic grass was gone, they’ll want to keep the grass. Right?”
“Doesn’t that seem obvious?” Jason grunted sitting on a small foot stool next to the desk.
Grandpa thought for moment. “You know, maybe that’s the problem. Maybe it’s not obvious to everyone. You may be on to something here. Why don’t we go talk to the Conservation Commissioner?”
The ride downtown was short. When they arrived at the Conservation Commission’s office in Town Hall, they were met by a short, fit-looking woman named Debbie. She was very busy and her desk was a mess, but she put down her work and was happy to answer their questions. In fact, Natalie thought she looked relieved.
“We’re looking for information on why the Wetland bylaws were made, so we can explain it at our Grounds Committee meeting tonight,” Grandpa said politely.
“Oh, well, you’ve come to the right place,” Debbie said delighted. “But I only have a few minutes. I’ve a duck date in fifteen minutes.”
“What’s a duck date?” Jason asked.
Debbie laughed loudly, obviously pleased that someone had asked. “This spring, I adopted an orphan mallard chick and raised it. Last week, I released it to the Wild Bird Sanctuary, and I go everyday at noon to see how she’s doing.”
“Wow! Oh, can we come?” Natalie squealed with delight looking back and forth between Grandpa and the Conservation Commissioner.
Grandpa frowned, “We don’t have a lot of time, actually …and it’s not what we came for …” he left the sentence hanging afraid to say, “No”, to his granddaughter.
“Oh, it’s only a few minutes away, and it will help me answer your questions,” Debbie coaxed. Natalie nodded and Jason said he was interested as well. Grandpa had his misgivings. He had seen, “just a few minutes,” turn into several hours, and he did not want to miss his afternoon nap. Yet, his two beautiful grandkids were practically on their knees begging to go.
“Alright,” he agreed reluctantly.
“Excellent,” Debbie said as she stood up and walked around her desk to the far wall. “First things first. The Wetlands Regulations are not bylaws, they are Provincial Laws. The Town of Owana merely administers them. Everyone has to follow the rules. OK. Let’s take a look at the map.” On the wall hung a large map with the title, “Surface Waters of Owana” across the top. A gray outline of the town was visible, a criss-cross of streets and lots. But the most prominent features were the light blue meandering lines that designated the streams and rivers in the town. About twenty wound their way across the streets and backyards, all leading westward to a large blue area filling the entire right side of the map, Anogan Lake. Natalie knew Anogan Lake was big, but according to this map, it was huge.
It took Grandpa a couple of minutes to find their home. “This map is kind of old. It was made before our condo was built, but I think we live … there,” he said pointing a finger at an empty lot.
“Poplar Tree Estates. I know that neighborhood. Very nice. And that is Mill Creek running through the back. Let’s take a closer look. Mill Creek is a Class B surface water indicating it is a fish and wildlife habitat and is safe for swimming. In addition, it is a surface water drain meaning it channels rain water to the lake.”
Debbie traced her finger quickly along the Mill Creek
passing through several neighborhoods and stopped at a large green area on the
shore of Anagon lake, Wild Bird Sanctuary.
“Perfect. I’ll explain
on the way. Let’s go.”
Natalie, Jason, and Grandpa suddenly found themselves jogging to keep up
with the very energetic Commissioner down the main antechamber of City Hall and
out the door.
Five minutes later, they were cruising through a very posh neighborhood with large lakefront homes and beautifully landscaped gardens. Debbie parked in a small lot with a large wooden sign with “Wildbird Sanctuary” engraved in it, and soon they were walking along a boardwalk surrounded by tall trees and thick aquatic grasses. The wetland seemed completely out of place nestled among the fancy houses along the lakefront. Debbie explained it had been a gift from one of the city elders. At first, no one in Town Hall knew what to do with the property, and it sat languishing for years gathering trash. Several developers proposed building on it, but nothing came of it. Then the Provincial Government stepped in and declared it a protected wetland. Many folks were angry, but the City decided to develop it as a wetland park, and it had since become a jewel attracting many birders and tourists.
The Commissioner walked briskly several steps in front of the other three who hustled to keep up. Around a bend she sped, turned right at a fork and on into the heart of the wetland which began to appear impossibly big. Finally, she stopped near a small wooden bench where the boardwalk widened. A small lectern stood opposite with a brochure on top. Natalie, still breathing hard from jogging, glanced at it quickly and read, “Mill Creek.
“This is the end of Mill Creek,” the Commissioner announced. “From here, the water flows through the wetland and into Anogan lake. Now, I want you to notice two things. First, is the fish.” Natalie, Jason, and Grandpa crowded against the railing and peered into a small opening in the tall grass where a trickle of water was flowing under the boardwalk. The water was clear, but the dark reeds and brown bottom hid any critters from view. Occasionally, they could see a shadow flick, but they didn’t actually see anything until a minnow swam into a shaft of sunlight where they finally got a good look at it.
“There!” Natalie said pointing just before it darted into the shadows again.
“OK,” Jason said looking at the Commissioner, “Minnows are everywhere.”
“A common misconception,” the Commissioner disagreed. “Minnows are in places where they have shelter and food, places like undisturbed wetlands. Wetlands are the cradle of life. They shelter the vast majority of the young. When the wetlands go, the minnows go, and then there are no big fish that sportsmen love to catch. And fish aren’t the only creatures that depend on wetlands. Most species including, ducks, herons, and many, many others also depend on them for food and shelter.”
“So, if the weeds were pulled and Mill Creek was filled with stone, all the fish and ducks would disappear?” Natalie asked snapping a couple of photos with her phone.
“Exactly, but that’s only half the story. The reeds and grasses act as soil stabilizers too. Storm water flows very quickly and can erode soil causing a lot of damage. The plants slow the storm water, and the roots keep the soil in place. Imagine if the plants were taken out of Mill Creek behind Poplar Tree Estates. First, the water would erode the creek banks causing tremendous property damage, and second, all the dirt would be washed down the creek and into the wetlands. The plants would be buried, the fish would suffocate with dirt in their gills, and the animals would starve with nothing to eat. I’ve seen several wetlands buried alive, and it takes years for them to recover. That is why so many people, including fishermen, bird watchers, biologists, and the tourist lobby, are so concerned about wetlands, and why the fines for interfering with wetlands are so high.”
“Huh!” Grandpa grunted. “In my day, we called them swamps. I’ve seen hundreds filled in and built on.”
The Commissioner nodded her head sadly and said, “Well, people learned the hard way that’s not a good idea. Every year, I get many complaints of flooding. All I have to do is inspect the watershed and inevitably I find someone has filled in a wetland or a storm water drainage ditch or a wetland. Last year I issued twenty-two orders for people to restore a wetland they had filled and to pay a fine. It’s been very difficult to get the word out about wetlands.”
A loud quack immediately behind Jason and Natalie startled them. Natalie screeched and jumped behind Grandpa, then peered out to see a large brown mallard duck standing on the boardwalk.
“Oh, there you are Becky. So, nice to see you,” Debbie said in a pleasant sing-song voice.
The duck waddled toward Debbie skirting the Browns cautiously. Natalie and Jason immediately stooped to say hello. Debbie took a small bag out of her pocket and held out a handful of green pellets. The duck ran up to her outstretched hand and began pecking hungrily at the food, all the while keeping a wary eye on the three strangers.
“This is Becky,” Debbie explained. “She’s about nine months old and has been here for just a couple of weeks.”
“She’s beautiful,” Natalie cooed and snapped a picture with her phone. “Can I pet her?”
“Me too,” Jason stepped forward.
“I think so, but one at a time.”
Natalie approached the duck first and gently stroked its back as it took the pellets from Debbie’s hand. Grandpa watched his grandkids and marveled at their joy. For a moment he forgot about the Committee meeting and Petre. He was a proud and happy Grandpa.
Chapter
5: Natalie’s Plan
Natalie and Jason burst in the door with Grandpa close behind. They both started talking at once about their visit to Wild Bird Sanctuary, and Natalie emailed her photos to Grandpa’s computer for everyone to see. Then they spent the rest of the afternoon preparing for the meeting.
At about 2 pm, Grandma came into the den and asked if Grandpa had heard about the tropical storm that was going to pass over them that evening. She was concerned about not having enough food in the house. Grandpa scoffed, “These storms never amount to anything but a bit of wind and rain.”
“Well, Frank is taking me out to get some supplies just in case,” she said.
“Great, pick up some ice cream while you’re at the store. What flavor kids?”
“Chocolate!”
“Cherry Garcia!”
“OK. One chocolate and one Cherry Garcia,” Grandpa said, then added, “Please”.
Grandpa had never used Power Point before and was impressed that Natalie not only knew how to use it but was pretty good at setting up a whole presentation. When he saw the pictures Natalie had taken in Wild Bird Sanctuary, he was downright awed. Natalie snapped some photos of the ducks in the backyard, and Jason helped to name them. He had done a school project last year identifying ducks that lived on the lake behind their house, so he knew most of them already. Within an hour, the presentation was complete. It was concise and, most important to Grandpa, it was short, about 5 minutes, which was about the maximum attention span of some of the Committee members. Grandpa was congratulating the kids, when he noticed that Natalie had grown quiet and asked what was the matter.
“Oh, I’m just wondering what Mr. Driver is going to do.”
“He’s going to get mad and make a big fuss.”
“Yeah. But what is he going to say? I mean, if we know what he’s going to say, then we can be prepared and make counter-arguments.”
“Oooh nice word!” Jason said sarcastically and laughed.
“I’m impressed to,” Grandpa chuckled. “But it’s also an excellent question. Go on.”
“Didn’t Grandma say he was visiting all her lady friends and making them sign a petition to put him on the Committee?”
“Yes. He only needs fifty signatures, and he’ll probably have that many. I can’t think of way to stop him. Not only that, but he’s probably convinced most of the members to vote his way.” Grandpa looked wistfully out the window. “I’ll probably quit.”
“You can’t quit, Grandpa,” Jason protested.
“Grandpa, let’s just deal with tonight for now,” Natalie said trying to sound soothing. In truth, she felt there was a very real risk of losing. Mr. Driver seemed very determined, and he was obviously not above any number of dirty, underhanded tricks. They had to be equally prepared.
“The vote is tonight, and we want the right result. So, Mr. Driver will be on the committee. What exactly are you voting on? I mean you can’t disobey the law, can you?”
“Well, we’re not supposed to, of course. But it’s not that simple. Petre and some of his friends don’t think the government can tell us what to do on our property. This vote was supposed to be a formality to let everyone in the complex know our plans and to protect the Condo Association from fines if someone cleaned out the creek. We didn’t expect this kind of fight. We talked about inviting the conservation commissioner to the meeting, but since the plants have been pulled out of the creek, we’re afraid of getting into trouble. So, we’re hoping this vote will take care of the issue.”
“Oh boy,” Jason covered his face with his hands and groaned.
Natalie shook her head suddenly grasping the big picture. Grandpa and the committee were boxed into a corner with only a smidgeon of hope to get them out. Within eight hours, they had to convince people that conserving the creek was the right thing to do. This wasn’t easy like cleaning up an oil or chemical spill. Everyone agreed with cleaning up a mess. How do you to convince other people who thought other things were more important? They needed help, and she wasn’t sure if she and Jason could give it. After all, they were just a couple of kids. Natalie stopped right there as the thought rolled through her head. She hated being called a kid by adults, and now she was doing it to herself. She angrily pushed the thought from her mind then used her anger to focus her thoughts, “One thing at a time. The vote! The vote has to be the key.” Natalie turned back to Grandpa and asked, “How does the voting work?”
“Well, we talk about the issue, and then the Committee votes. The majority wins the day. It’s pretty simple.”
“So, only the Committee members vote. How many Committee members are there and are you friendly with them?”
“Five members, six including Petre. Yeah, I know most of them pretty well.”
“Uh oh,” Jason said smiling at Natalie.
“What?” Natalie demanded. She was still angry with herself, and the question exploded from her more then she intended.
Grandpa gently tapped her on the knee with his finger silently scolding her and then asked calmly, “What’s the matter, Jason?”
“I’ve seen this before. Natalie has a plan,” Jason replied with a rye smile on his face. He’d seen Natalie in action many times and this was nothing new to him. Grandpa may not know her well, but he did.
“You do?” Grandpa exclaimed in surprise.
Natalie grinned from ear to ear, as though she’d just been caught nibbling an extra Oreo. The fact was, an idea had just popped into her head. All the details weren’t worked out yet, but hopefully that wouldn’t be a problem. She sat back in her chair and said, “Yes, I think so.”
“Well, what is it?” Jason and Grandpa exclaimed with excitement.
“We’re going to have a tea party.”
Chapter
6: Tea for Five
The rest of the afternoon flew by in a flurry of activity. If Mr. Driver was planning a surprise attack on the committee, they would plan their own counter-attack. Natalie laid out her plan, and three of them immediately went to work. Grandpa called all the Committee members and invited them to tea at 3 o’clock. Only one, Mrs. Janse didn’t answer the phone, so Jason and Grandpa walked to her house and found her outside working in their garden. In a thin frail voice, she said tea would be delightful. In the way home, Jason asked, “Is she OK? Her hands were shaking pretty bad.”
“Yes, she’s fine,” Grandpa sighed. “Getting old isn’t much fun, Jason.”
Natalie prepared the house for tea setting the cups and saucers and filling the kettle. Grandma returned from shopping and was thrilled to find teacups laid out for them. Poor Grandma almost fainted when she found out company was due in half an hour. And of all people, Mr. Peterson was coming over. If he saw the house in its current condition, he would tell his wife, and Grandma couldn’t bare that. She assumed immediate command, and soon had everyone organized. Mr. Brown picked up, Mrs. Brown vacuumed the floor, and Jason did the dishes, while Natalie helped Grandma replace all the teacups with their best bone china. Grandpa tried to explain that it was a business meeting and that the good china wasn’t necessary, but Grandma had none of it.
At 3 o’clock, Mr. Peterson and the other Committee members arrived. Introductions were made, tea was poured to Grandma’s satisfaction, and then business began. The first thing they learned was that all of them were worried about Mr. Driver. He had visited them all and made threatening comments about the vote tonight. They were relieved that Grandpa had called this meeting and appreciated his leadership. Grandpa smiled and gave Natalie a quick wink.
“I’m particularly concerned because I don’t know much about the wetlands law,” Mr. Peterson said and the others agreed.
“You’re in luck then,” Grandpa said,” Because we have the answers.”
Grandpa explained the law and emphasized the fines that they would have to pay for breaking the law.
“What about all of the damage that’s been done already,” Mrs. Janse asked in a quivering voice. “I can’t afford to pay any fines.” And the others agreed. Grandpa only shrugged his shoulders. “Unfortunately, what’s done is done. All we can do is stop more damage and let the reeds grow back.”
Then Natalie brought out her computer and showed them the pictures they had taken this afternoon and carefully explained everything the Conservation Commissioner had told them.
“That all makes sense to me,” Mr. Peterson said. “And I rather like the ducks in the backyard. I know Mrs. Delgado next door feeds them every morning too. I bet she wouldn’t like to see them disappear.”
“Oh, I know she couldn’t bear that,” Mrs. Janse agreed.
At about 4 o’clock, Mr. Peterson said, “Well, that answers my questions. Thank you Frank, and thanks to Natalie and Jason as well. You guys are terrific.” The three old ladies concurred enthusiastically.
Grandpa then asked, “So, how many of you would be willing
to support adoption of the Wetland Regulation?” Grandpa
was careful to use the official name of the regulation as he thought it gave his
question more gravity.
Mr. Peterson nodded his head, but the three women hesitated. Everyone looked at them in surprise.
“What’s the matter?” Grandpa asked disappointed.
The three women looked back and forth at each other sheepishly. “Well, it’s Petre. He’s … He’s visited all of us at our homes and is … very persuasive …”
“You mean, he’s a bully,” Mr. Peterson said flatly. “Look, if he gives us any trouble, we’ll call the police.”
“I don’t want any trouble,” Mrs. Janse cried clearly upset. “Oh, this is so hard!” Her hands began to wobble, and she spilled her tea. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t you mind a bit,” Grandma said dabbing a cloth
on the table to soak up the tea.
It took another half hour to hear out the concerns of the three ladies. With each passing minute, Petre’s strategy to win this debate became clearer. His use of fear and intimidation had clearly frightened these women. In the end, it was the threat of fines that brought them fully around, so they all agreed to vote yes.
“It usually comes down to money,” Mr. Brown whispered to Natalie. She smiled weakly. They had made the right decision, so she was happy. But she could feel the fear that wracked each of the members and clouded her confidence on the outcome tonight. She knew it was far from over.
Chapter
7: The Committee Meeting
At 5 o’clock, Grandpa and Grandma laid down for a nap. Jason asked if they could watch TV for an hour until the meeting.
“I think a little down time in front of the TV is a good idea,” Mrs. Brown agreed. Everyone needed a little down time.
At 6:30, Grandpa poked his head in the TV room and said it was time to go to the meeting. Natalie was nervous. They had prepared well, but she wondered what else Mr. Driver would do. She marched beside Grandpa and marveled at how calm he looked. He held his head high and chatted the entire way to the meeting hall.
Natalie wondered about his past again. What things he had done to make him so nice even under pressure. So she asked, “Gramps. What did you do for work?”
“I had a few jobs. I was a real estate agent for a while. Then I got into banking and worked my way up the ladder.”
“Did you want to work in a bank?”
“Ha Ha!” He laughed “Nooo! I wanted to be a pilot, but your Grandma said I would be away too much.”
“That’s too bad,” Natalie said genuinely. “You didn’t get to do what you wanted.”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Natalie. My first love was your Grandmother. I didn’t feel like I was giving up anything.”
“That’s so sweet, Grandpa.” Natalie felt warmed by his story. “I hope I find someone like you when I’m older.”
“You will, Nat. I guarantee it.”
When they arrived at the hall, Mr. Driver and several other folks were already seated. Mr. Driver sat in the front and held a small bundle of papers in his hand. He glowered at them as they entered the room. Grandpa walked to the front table facing the crowd. He greeted the other Commissioners already seated and then took his own chair. The rest of the Brown family sat in the back. Natalie and Jason sat side-by-side, twitching nervously.
“He looks so mean,” Jason observed to Natalie.
“He’s up to something. That’s for sure.”
“Shhh,” Mrs. Brown held her finger to her mouth and shushed them both.
At 7 pm, the trickle of people entering the meeting room stopped, and Grandpa called the meeting order. He was about to call the first item of business, when Mr. Driver stood and roared, “The first order of business shall be electing me to the Committee!”
The crowd immediately erupted and began chatting loudly. Natalie heard one man laugh and say this was the reason why he came to the meeting. The Committee members remained impassive and waited for the noise to dim.
“What are you talking about, Petre? There are five members of the Committee already,” Grandpa said blandly. He knew this was coming and remained calm.
“There’s nothing limiting the number of committee members. All I need is fifty signatures to get on the Committee, and here they are, Frank,” Mr. Driver spat as he dropped his bundle of papers on the table in front of Grandpa. Natalie saw her father stir and her mom put her hand on his.
“Let your father handle this,” she whispered.
Grandpa picked up the papers and looked through them. There were fifty-one signatures. Grandpa recognized many of the names including Mrs. Janse and the other two ladies on the Committee. He resisted his first reaction, to ask them what they were thinking. They hadn’t told him they had signed this petition. But he wasn’t really surprised either knowing how Mr. Driver had bullied them. Embarrassing them now would only makes matters worse.
After several moments, Grandpa announced, “All the signatures appear to be in order. Is there any reason why Mr. Driver shouldn’t be allowed to join the Grounds Committee?”
All the Committee members shook their heads.
“Hah!” Mr. Driver hooted victoriously, and he took his chair and sat down at the end of the Committee table. Some in the crowd cheered, pleased with the entertainment so far. Others hissed. The Committee members remained impassive. In fact, they had had a long conversation about Mr. Driver’s plan to get on the committee and had been expecting it. He may have won this battle, but he hadn’t won the war, Natalie thought and hoped.
Grandpa then continued the meeting declaring the next item of business, adoption of the City’s Wetland regulations. Mr. Driver jumped out of his seat sending his chair sliding backward. “This is a terrible idea,” he bellowed. “That creek is a mess. The weeds have clogged the water, they stink, and the mosquitoes breed in it. The mess lowers our property values. We must remove all the weeds, and line the creek bed with rocks.” His six foot heavy frame stood high above everyone else in the room, and his voice boomed frightening even the bravest person. Natalie felt the force of him, and she took her mom’s hand. Jason then took her other hand. They were glad to be together. Mrs. Janse and the other two ladies looked downright terrified.
Mr. Driver spoke for several more minutes before finishing. In the end, he paused only briefly, before continuing, “If no one has anything to add, let’s vote now and get this over with!” He did not sit down but glared across the room challenging any one to speak.
Grandpa sat scribbling some notes. “Hold on, Petre. We’re not done. I’ve a few points in favor of adopting the laws.”
“Bah! You tree huggers are pathetic,” Mr. Driver scoffed yielding the floor.
Grandpa stood and turned the computer to the crowd showing them the pictures and discussing each of the points the Conservation Commissioner had talked about. This time he ended with the fines, so they were fresh in everyone’s mind when the time came to vote.
Mr. Driver huffed and disrupted Grandpa every chance he got. He finally had to sit down when Grandpa firmly asked him to be quiet and take his seat.
“You go, Grandpa!” Jason whispered to Natalie who giggled. Even Mrs. Brown smiled.
When Grandpa finished, Mr. Driver jumped to his feet and began screaming, “This is all nonsense. The creek is on private property, and we can do what we like with it. The government can’t stop us.”
“Actually, they can stop us, Petre. In fact, they will fine us, have the courts to stop any actions underway, and force us to restore any damage. It can get pretty expensive. Last year the Conservation Commissioner issued twenty-five orders to restore wetlands at costs ranging from thirty-thousand to five million dollars,” Grandpa said repeating the information provided by the Conservation Commissioner. A gasp rippled through the crowd.
“That is nothing a good lawyer can’t fix,” Mr. Driver roared.
“And how much will that cost?” someone in the audience yelled. A murmur of agreement rolled through the crowd like a wave.
Sensing the momentum swinging in favor of the law, Grandpa moved to seize it. “Does the audience have any questions?” No one raised their hand.
“Do the committee members have any questions?” All the committee members shook their heads.
“Then, all those in favor of adopting the City’s Wetland Laws, please raise your hand.”
Grandpa, Mr. Peterson, and one of the ladies raised their hands. Mr. Driver clenched his fists tapping his knuckles firmly on the table and glared at Mrs. Janse and Mrs. Watson. The two of them froze. Natalie could see the fear in their faces. He had them completely under his control. Mrs. Janse just stared at him unable to move except for the slow uncontrollable shaking of her head and hands.
“Hah!” Mr. Driver bellowed. “It’s three to three. The law is not adopted! I’ll order the landscapers to clear out the creek tomorrow!”
The crowd stirred uneasily. This was not the outcome that most had expected and the prospect of fines and legal action was not what they wanted. Things were moving too quickly. They could appeal the decision, but it would be too late if Mr. Driver carried through with his order.
Grandpa patted Mrs. Janse gently on the hand and said, “You’ll be OK.” Her gazed left Mr. Driver, and she smiled weakly at Grandpa. Then she pursed her lips and seemed to come to some inner resolve. Her hands stopped shaking for just a second and in a firm clear voice she blurted, “Oh … phooey! Shut up Petre and don’t come to my house anymore!” And she raised her hand. Mrs. Watson then raised her hand, and the crowd erupted with laughter.
Grandpa counted the hands and then declared, “By a five to one vote, the Grounds Committee has adopted the Wetland Laws!”
Mr. Driver’s face turned red as a pepper. “Don’t you cross me! Put your hands down now,” he bellowed at the two ladies beside him. When they refused, he picked up the end of the table and shook it violently. The crowd panicked and quickly rose to its feet ready to dash out the door.
“Petre! Stop it!” demanded Grandpa.
Mr. Driver dropped the table with a thud and shook an angry fist at Grandpa. “I’m going to get you, George,” he yelled jabbing his finger in the air. “I’m going to get you.” Then, he stomped out of the room.
Chapter
8: Rescuing Petre
The meeting was in chaos. The crowd swirled as people sought like minded individuals until they had broken into two camps, one much larger than the other. A couple of people were yelling at Grandpa and the Committee as they stomped out the door after Mr. Driver. Most came to the front table and shook the committee member’s hands, especially Grandpa, saying what an incredible job they had done. It quickly became clear that the majority in the room supported the Committee and its decision.
Shortly, the Browns walked to the front to congratulation Grandpa.
“Well done, Dad,” Mr. Brown took his fathers hand and shook it vigorously. Then he gave Grandpa a quick pull and a big hug. “You all did the right thing tonight,” he said shaking each of the Committee member’s hands.
“We wouldn’t have been prepared for tonight if it weren’t for Natalie’s leadership,” Grandpa said hugging his granddaughter. Natalie felt his big arms wrap around her and squeeze her so tight her eyes bulged. Grandpa took her by the shoulders again and looking deep into her eyes, said, “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you, Natalie.” Mr. Peterson said shaking her hand vigorously. One by one, each committee member came to thank her. When Natalie took Mrs. Janse’s outstretched hand, Natalie said, “I thought you were very brave tonight standing up to Mr. Driver, Mrs. Janse.”
The older woman waved a shaky hand in the air nonchalantly, “Oh, he’s just a big bully. I can’t let him scare me, deary.” Everyone laughed.
“Speaking of bullies. I don’t like the threats he was making. “I’m going to get you?” I think we should call the police,” Mrs. Brown said very worried.
“I agree,” Mr. Peterson said. “I’ll call them as soon as I get home tonight. However, it is getting late, and we all have to prepare for the storm. It’s supposed to be a doozy.” They all agreed and headed their separate ways, tired but satisfied.
By the time, the Browns arrived home, the wind had picked up and large rain drops were starting to fall. They were the kind of rain drops that splattered on the ground like small bombs and made everyone run for cover. The clouds coming up the Anogan Valley from the south were thick, puffy, and very black. It was the darkest night Grandpa and Grandma had seen in a very long time. An hour later, they were huddled in the kitchen eating ice cream, playing Monopoly, and watching the wind and rain lash the garden. It was the perfect night for hunkering down with a warm cozy blanket and enjoying a family game.
Up at White Pond, the rain quickly saturated the bare top soil, and flowed in sheets into the swelling Pond. At midnight, the Pond began overflowing the small earthen dam quickly eroding deep grooves and releasing the top two feet of the Pond into Mill Creek. Within seconds, the creek swelled into a raging torrent that swept away everything in its path. Dirt, rocks, hay bales, silt fencing were all carried with the boiling current.
At the cemetery, the water ate into the barren hillside consuming large chunks of soil every few seconds. With no trees and roots to support the soil, the hill soon collapsed sending tons of dirt and several coffins into the overflowing stream. The unrelenting downpour continued to gouge deeper into the hill until it was almost gone, sending more coffins floating downstream.
The collapse of the hill into the creek generated a surge wave that rolled down stream at 50 miles per hour sending water over the banks and onto streets, backyards, and low lying buildings. All the fish, turtles, frogs, and other creatures were buried alive under tons of rocks, sand, and silt. The wave rushed down stream through the back of Whispering Pines. When it hit the denuded area behind the Driver’s residence, the force gouged a large patch of lawn from around the poplar tree. The wind sealed the tree’s fate pushing it over and snapping it in half as it hit the ground. That’s when the Browns heard the loud crack and rushed to the window. Barely visible through the rain and mist, they could see the huge tree lying across the creek, its branches lashing in the air as the wind and rain stripped off its leaves. They watched in horror as large swaths of the lawn in front of Mr. Driver’s house collapse into the raging torrent and disappear downstream. They marveled at ferociousness of the storm, and the power of nature. It was truly humbling.
Moments later Jason spotted something moving outside.
“No way!” Natalie pressed her face up against the glass and searched.
“Oh dear. That seems rather foolish to me. Who could it be?” Grandma said pulling the curtain aside. Faintly visible, maybe not even there at all, they could see something or someone out there. The outline of a yellow cap, the glint of wet rain suit, the figure faded in and out of view, so no one could be sure.
“It’s more like an apparition!” Grandma said in wonder.
“A what?” Jason screwed his face into
“An apparition,” Grandma repeated. “A ghost!”
They caught a quick glimpse of him when the figure darted back from the collapsing lawn just beyond the ill-fated tree. He was dressed in a yellow rain suit and large gum rubber boots and moved awkwardly.
“It looks like Petre,” Grandma gasped.
Then to everyone’s horror, the ground beneath him collapsed, and the figure disappeared into the river.
Grandma shrieked, “He’s fallen in! Grandpa, you’ve got to do something.”
Grandpa rose to his feet, but Mr. Brown stood and put his hand on his father’s shoulder, “I’ll go, Pops. It’s pretty nasty out there.”
Grandpa looked at his son squarely and said, “Precisely why we should both go. No sense in getting killed.” And without waiting for an answer, he strode out of the kitchen into the garage and returned a moment later with two rain suits and boots. “These won’t keep us dry long, but we shouldn’t be out there long. Grandma, can you please call 911. For all we know, Petre could have been washed downstream.”
They dressed quickly. Jason complained he wanted to go too, but Mrs. Brown put a quick end to that discussion. Moments later, Grandpa and Mr. Brown stepped out the door and were immediately pounded with heavy wind driven rain.
“Someone should turn off that firehouse!” Mr. Brown said cringing under the barrage. Grandpa smiled and nodded for them to go. They crossed the lawn heading for the Poplar tree taking short quick steps, so they wouldn’t slip on the wet grass. Rounding the tip, they turned back toward the river. The noise of the rushing water was deafening, but the sight of the standing rapids was shocking. In the dim light, this normally quiet stream looked more like a class 5 rapids complete with rooster tails and eddies.
Grandpa forged ahead toward the river, when his son grabbed him by the arm jerking him back. Mr. Brown pointed down to a large dark hole where Grandpa was about the take his next step. Water swirled around inside the cavity which stretched from the tree fully 30 yards down the river. All along the soil was sloughing in large clumps and disappearing into the current.
Grandpa stepped back from the edge and looked at his son thankfully.
“Petre!” Mr. Brown called. He had little hope of being heard or of hearing anything. He could hardly hear his father standing next to him. But he really didn’t know what else to do. Being out here was foolish enough. To his surprise, he heard a faint call for help. He swung around and peered downstream. “Did you hear something?” he asked.
Grandpa shook his head. Grandpa couldn’t hear at the best of times, but he could still see well. He searched the river bank, until he spotted a small yellow sleeve clinging to some reeds several yards down stream.
Together, the Browns inched their way through the darkness and peered over the edge of the bank. There, desperately clinging to a clump of grass, was Mr. Driver, his exhausted body swinging and twisting in the current.
He looked up at them with sunken eyes and opened his mouth to call again but choked on a mouth full of water before he uttered a sound. Grandpa and Mr. Driver dove for his outstretched hand and got a firm grip. Inch by inch, they pulled his sopped body from the water and up onto the lawn. When he was finally free, they each took an arm and carried his limp body to his unit.
Mrs. Driver was waiting for them with the door open when they arrived. “Oh my gosh, Petre! Are you alright?” The two men brought Petre inside and sat him down on a large leather chair. “I told you it was too dangerous, you crazy man,” she wailed. Petre sat shivering, mumbling incoherently and didn’t look up.
Mr. Brown stood to one side and felt relieved to be indoors where the pounding on his head ceased. More so, he felt great sympathy for this distraught woman, who was married to a man he considered ruthless and misguided. Her cries filled the room, and might have shaken the dead, but Petre just sat huddled and shivering.
“Marge… Marge!” Grandpa put his hand on the hysterical woman’s shoulder. “Do you have a blanket? He looks really cold.”
Marge looked up at him with wide teary eyes and pointed to a closet. He returned moments later with several towels and a large blanket. They removed his rain suit and soaked clothes, and the two men dried him and wrapped him in the blanket.
“He looks pretty bad,” Mr. Brown observed hoping to change her mind.
“At least give him some warm tea,” Grandpa suggested. Mrs. Driver nodded.
The Browns bid Mrs. Driver goodbye and stepped outside back into the wind and rain. They hadn’t taken a single step when the lights went out and the night turned pitch black.
Mr. Brown put his hand up to his nose and said, “Just great! I can’t even see the hand in front of my face. Do you remember the way home?”
Grandpa laughed. “I’m not that old. Follow me!”
By the time, they reached home, several candles burned brightly inside, and they followed the flickering beacons. Grandpa brought them to the garage door, and they stepped gratefully inside.
“Whew!” Mr. Brown whistled pulling off his hat. He looked at his dad who was drenched from head to toe. Grandpa looked back at his son, and they burst out laughing. They had helped a neighbor in need, braved the worst storm either had seen in many years, and were soaked to the bone. It was a grand adventure. Mr. Brown grabbed his father and gave him a big hug and said, “Well done, Pops!”
“Well done, Sonny Boy!”
At that moment, Natalie, Jason, Grandma and Mrs. Brown
burst into the garage asking questions. The
noise was only drowned by the ambulance’s siren outside.
Grandpa directed the ambulance to the Driver’s residence, and then took
his two grandkids by the hand, “I’m freezing!
Let’s go inside and have some hot chocolate!”
Chapter
9: The Letter
The next morning, Jason’s nose was still pressed against the glass door when Grandma set two plates heaped with steaming golden brown waffles on the table. “Natalie, Jason. You’ve seen the mess. Come and have breakfast.” She then placed a second bowl on the table and added, “Come on then. We’re having waffles with strawberries and real maple syrup.”
“All right!” Jason ran to the table and grabbed his knife and fork. He waited only briefly for Grandma to serve him a few bright red berries, before he cut into the soft crisscrossed dough and stuffed a triple-decker fork-full in his mouth. He smiled brightly, his face distorted by his engorged cheeks.
“Mind you manners, Jason,” Mrs. Brown scolded him.
Natalie, disgusted by her brother’s manners, walked casually to the table, sat, and placed her napkin on her lap. She was very hungry, and her stomach growled loudly as soon as she reached for the strawberries.
“Wow! Remind me not to get between you and breakfast!” Jason laughed.
“It just smells so good,” Natalie cooed.
Grandpa stepped in the door looking at a letter in his hand. “Isn’t Sumner and Clark a Law firm here in town, Grandma?” he asked.
“I think so, why?”
He opened the letter and examined it. “I’ll be darned,” he exclaimed. “Petre is suing the Estate over the vote and the creek.”
Natalie cut a piece of waffle dripping with maple syrup and said, “Wow! Mr. Driver doesn’t give up.” Then her stomach growled again, and she shoved the waffle in her mouth and began to chew savoring the rich sweet flavor.
Mr. Brown sat down at the table looking for some breakfast as well. “The vote was only last night. How could they possibly have gotten a letter out that quickly? I’d be a little suspicious about it.” Reaching across the table with his fork, he tried to steal one of Jason’s waffles, but Jason fended him off with his fork and protested to his mom. Mrs. Brown shot a look at Mr. Brown that would have stopped a train.
Mr. Brown shrugged his shoulders, and Jason giggled.
Then Mr. Brown reached across and stabbed one of Natalie’s waffles. Natalie’s mouth was full, and when she shrieked bits of waffle flew across the table one of which landed on her father’s arm. At the same time, she slammed her hand down on the waffle rescuing her breakfast in the nick of time. Natalie knocked the fork from Mr. Brown’s grip, and the handle clanked loudly against the porcelain plate. The room was suddenly silent as everyone looked to see what happened. Slowly and deliberately, Natalie removed her father’s fork from her waffle and handed it back to him. Then she raised her syrup covered hand for her father to witness and growled triumphantly, “Didn’t Jason just warn you not get between me and my breakfast?” Jason and Mr. Brown burst into a new round of giggles.
“Frank,” Mrs. Brown sneered. “How do you expect the kids to behave when you’re worse than they are?”
“Some things never change,” Grandma sighed placing a stack of waffles in front of her son.
When Grandpa was sure Mr. Brown was finished, he looked at the envelope again and grunted in surprise. “Very interesting. There’s no postmark.”
“What does that mean?” Jason asked with his mouth full. A piece of waffle fell from his lips, and Mr. Brown scolded him.
“Yeah right, dad,” Jason laughed.
Mrs. Brown threw her hands in the air and said exasperated, “Do you see what I’m saying now?”
Grandpa paused for another moment looking at his son and then continued, “It means it wasn’t mailed. Someone put this letter in our mail box last night after the meeting.”
Natalie swallowed gratefully, cleared her throat and said, “Why don’t you call the lawyers and asked them if they sent it?”
“Good idea, Natalie. I’ll do that right after breakfast.”
A half hour later, Grandpa got off the phone and said, “Well, as we suspected, Sumner and Clark said they knew nothing about the letter and, in fact, would never have sent such a letter. They wouldn’t sue someone to force them to break the law.”
“I can only imagine who sent it.” Mrs. Brown said sarcastically.
“Who? Who sent it?” Jason asked looking confused.
“Hmmm,” Grandpa looked over his bifocals at Jason. “I have my suspicions too. In fact, I planted a little seed with the lawyers. I asked them if Petre was a client of theirs. Of course, they wouldn’t say. But now they know where to start looking for the counterfeiter. I’ll think I’ll send a copy of this letter to them, so they have the evidence, and let them take care of this one.”
Mrs. Brown smiled, “Very clever, Grandpa.”
Chapter
10: Becky
For the rest of the morning, Jason and Natalie were not allowed to venture out into the back yard on account of the caskets. The police arrived around eleven. Several officers in white protective suits, large gum rubber boots, and thick rubber gloves marched into the backyard to examine the caskets. They checked the lids to be sure they were closed. If so, they bore it out to a waiting truck. If not, they photographed the casket, checked the surroundings for spilled items, then closed the lid carried the box out. It was slow tedious work. Natalie and Jason watched for a while but soon became bored and turned on the television.
After an hour or so, Mrs. Brown announced, “We can’t stay in the house all day. Is there anything you kids would like to do?”
Jason lay on the floor in between two large pillows and felt very comfortable watching his favorite cartoon. He shook his head without taking his eyes off the television.
Natalie, who had become restless sitting for so long, said, “Yes, I’d like to know if Becky survived the storm. Can I call the Commissioner and ask?”
Grandpa dialed the phone and handed it to her. It rang several times, and Natalie was about to hang up when a desperate voice answered. “Hello! Hello?! Ouch, my foot! Darn it!” Natalie heard muffled shuffling noises as the person fumbled with the phone. Then her voice returned. “I’m sorry. This is the Conservation Commission. Can I help you?”
“Hi Commissioner, its Natalie.”
“Oh. Hi Natalie. What a day! What a storm! Everything is a mess. I’ve been getting calls from everyone about overflowing rivers and ponds, and flooded roads and homes. I don’t know where to begin!”
“Have you been to Wild Bird Sanctuary? How is Becky?”
“I don’t know. I’m going to visit at noon.”
Natalie put her hand over the phone said to Grandpa, “She’s going to the Sanctuary at noon. Can we go too?” Grandpa smiled and nodded.
“We’ll meet you there,” Natalie said into the phone.
“OK. See you then.”
They police blockade forced them to take a detour on their way to the Sanctuary. A tree branch had taken down a wire onto the road. When they arrive at the parking lot, the Commissioners car was already there, but she was no where to be seen. Natalie and Jason raced along the boardwalk leaving Grandpa far behind. At first, things seemed pretty normal. Leaves and branches littered the ground, but none of the trees were uprooted and the grass looked green and healthy. As they approached Mill Creek, however, the grasses were flattened as if run-over by a steamroller and uprooted trees became more frequent.
They found Debbie sitting on the bench feeding Becky. The duck looked up as they approached and jumped into the water beneath the boardwalk.
“Oh sorry,” Natalie said slowing down and stopping several paces away. She hoped Becky would return to the boardwalk, so she could pet her again. But the duck waddled across a sand bar and then flew away.
The Commissioner watched her go. ”That’s OK. She had a good lunch.”
“Will she be back?” Natalie asked hoping.
“I don’t think so. It’s time for her to find her own way now.”
“Oh,” Natalie moaned sadly.
It’s OK. I’ve been looking forward to this moment. I’ll miss her, but I know my job is done.” With a casual toss, she threw the remaining feed in her hand into the water and rubbed her hands together to clean them. She looked at Natalie’s gloomy face and felt her sadness. “It’s OK, Natalie. Becky is grown up now. She’s where she belongs.”
Natalie just nodded and stared in the direction Becky had flown.
Jason looked around and whistled. “Look at this place. It got buried.”
Beneath them, the wetland was devastated. A huge swath lay beneath tons of sand and silt. Only the tips of the grass poked out above the outwash. No fish, no turtles to be seen anywhere.
“Funny we were just talking about this yesterday,” the Commissioner sighed thoughtfully. “You don’t have to use your imagination today. This is what happens. Everything in the creek’s path is buried and dead.”
“What can we do to fix it?” Jason asked. “Can we dig it out?
“No, not really. Excavating it would only do more damage. It’ll grow back over the next five to ten years, as long as we leave it alone.”
Grandpa walked up behind them and whistled, “Wow! What a mess.”
Natalie took his hand. “Becky’s fine,” she reassured him. “She was here a minute ago.” “Yeah, but we scared her off,” Jason added.
Grandpa smiled. He liked their concern for the duck. A wonderful age of innocence, he thought. “I’m glad you got to see her one more time.”
Chapter
11: Moving Away
The Browns visited for two more days, and then it was
time to go home. Grandma and
Grandpa were sad to see them go, but Natalie wondered if it was for the best
because they both looked very tired. Their
visit had been much more eventful than any of them had anticipated.
They deserved a good rest. Grandpa
hugged Natalie and Jason and thanked them again for their help.
He was very proud of them.
Several weeks later, Grandpa called with news. Mr. Brown put the speaker phone in the middle of the table and they all sat around to listen. After they rescued Mr. Driver from the creek, he spent a week in the hospital recovering from pneumonia. Shortly afterwards, Grandpa heard through some mutual friends that Petre had fallen out with lawyers Sumner and Clark after a big row. A month later, Mr. Driver announced he was moving away to be closer to family in Alberta. “He left without saying goodbye,” Grandpa sniffed feigning sorrow. Everyone laughed.
“Seriously though,” Grandpa continued. “The backyard is all cleaned up and life is back to normal. So, when will I see my two favorite grandkids again?”
“Sooner than you think. I’m going to a conference near you in a couple of months,”
Mr. Brown
announced. Great, we’ll see you then!”
