Carter and the Curious Maze (6 page)

Mais oui!

T
he
boy from the maze!

Carter waved and shouted, “Hey! Hey, over here! HEY!” but the canoe glided away down the beach, out of sight around a bend.

“Come on!” Carter and Arthur slid down off the rock and ran together down the beach, calling and waving. It was no use. The canoe had disappeared.

Carter watched it vanish with despair. It would be easy, so easy, to slump to the beach at that point. To just lie down and give up, to stare at the late afternoon sky. Carter considered it, he really did.

“What now, Carter?” the little boy asked, leaning his head into Carter's arm. Carter sighed. He had to go on; he couldn't stop now. Carter had finally figured it out for sure: somehow they
were
still in the maze. He'd found Arthur, the wounded soldier, and now the Native boy, all the people he'd seen in the maze. The only person missing was Creepy Leaf Girl. They just had to keep going until she turned up too, then maybe … maybe that's when this whole strange journey would end. He looked down at Arthur, who was trying very hard not to cry. What a scary day for a little kid.

“Come on, climb aboard.” Carter squatted down and then piggybacked Arthur along the beach to follow the canoe, carefully picking his way through the rocks and sand.

They didn't have to go far. As they rounded a bend, they saw the empty canoe bumping gently against the beach. The man and boy were in the distance, climbing a steep, sandy bank, struggling under large bundles.

“Hey! Over here!” Carter yelled, but the pair disappeared over the top of the hill.

Carter helped Arthur up the sandy hill to follow the Native boy. It was a hard climb, and the pair struggled upward. As they neared the top …

… Carter smelled smoke.

And heard voices. A man clearly said, “Gaston! May we!”

More sounds followed: metal clanged on metal, a cow bellowed, children laughed.

What can possibly be up there?

They struggled up the hill, and … there at the top was the strangest sight! A cluster of small buildings sat in a meadow, protected by a tall wooden wall. All around the clearing, people worked, talked, laughed.

Another fort? Where the heck are we?

Carter pulled Arthur down to the grass behind a low wooden fence, and they watched. This wasn't like the fort with the cannon. This was older, smaller, and these people weren't soldiers, they were just … people.

Very busy people.

A cow was tied to a post near their hiding spot, and a young woman in a long dress and a bonnet sat on a stool and milked it. Chickens fretted in wooden cages, and another woman searched for eggs beneath them. Two small dogs ran from spot to spot, sniffing and wagging their tails. They ran over to Carter and Arthur, sniffed them, and then growled and ran off.

The sound of metal clanging was a blacksmith hammering on a table in a small building. A red-hot fire burned behind him, and sweat poured down his face and neck.

But more interesting than all that to Carter were the Native men, women and children standing nearby. They were dressed like the boy from the maze, in moccasins and leather, or wore colourful shirts or neck scarves, and leather leggings. The men had guns, bows, or knives and talked with the men who weren't Natives.

Arthur slipped his hand into Carter's. This was strange, Carter had to agree. He thought they were all alone in this time, whenever this was. But here was a fort, bustling with activity and people. It wasn't big, and there weren't a
lot
of people, but it was definitely thriving.

Carter heard the words “May we” again, then suddenly realized what they were really saying:
Mais, oui!

They were speaking French!

Carter knew the lake was still there, and the big grey rock was back down the beach, like always. So whenever they were this time, they were still on the fairgrounds. But since when did Natives and Europeans sit together speaking
French
in his city?

The boys watched, carefully quiet. Two French men sat at a long wooden table piled high with bright green, red, and blue beads, and next to that was a small pile of silver buttons, stars, and moons. Bundles of bright red material sat nearby, and four axe heads glinted in the sun.

Everyone seemed happy. Whatever was going on here, it was an exciting day.

Carter couldn't pull his eyes away. It was a late summer day in his city, and here he was, just an arm's length away from people who had lived here long before him.

French men and women.

And Natives. The first people to live in this place, the first ones to walk along the streams and forest paths that had long been buried or paved over. Eagles flew overhead, the water in the harbour was clean and clear and filled with clams, and bears roamed the forest. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined his city this way, or its first inhabitants standing so close to him.

It made the entire horrible afternoon seem almost … better. There were
some
benefits to time travel, maybe. It wasn't all terrifying battles and freak shows. There was this too, these people, this interesting place and time, whatever this was.

He held his breath and watched.

What are they doing?

Carter watched closely as a Native man dropped a bundle of dark furs on the long wooden table. A French man measured the height of the bundle with a wooden stick and then passed one of the dark red blankets and a bag of silver beads back to him.

They were trading! The Native hunters and the French men were trading animal furs for blankets and beads. No wonder the Native man had taken a shot at the bear from the canoe. He hadn't seen Carter and Arthur; he'd just seen a valuable bear fur.

Carter had never heard of a French trading fort around there, and no one had ever mentioned it in history class at school.

When did this happen?

Arthur poked him. Someone was staring at them.

The boy from the maze stood near the adults, but he was watching Carter and Arthur closely. Carter had been so engrossed in watching the Natives and the traders, he'd almost forgotten about the boy. He raised his hand and the boy crept over, ducking down to their hiding spot.

“Car-tair,” he said quietly. Not a question, just a hello.

“It's you! You saved me from the maze, and your father saved us from the bear! Thank you! Do you think you could save me one last time? I need to find Mr. Green? The old guy, SNIP, SNIP … you know? SNIP, SNIP?”

The boy frowned, but Carter tried again. “Look, I'm exhausted and I have to get this little guy home. I want to go home, too. Believe it or not, I've been in three different time periods today, I've seen a LOT of weird stuff. You don't seem too surprised to see me, though, so maybe this has happened before? Maybe you see people from the maze all the time? It's been an interesting afternoon, but right now I just want to go home!” On the word “home,” Carter's voice wobbled, just a bit.

Yes, he wanted to go home. Was that too much to ask? He'd almost forgotten what home was like, he'd seen so much in the past few hours.

The boy looked over his shoulder at his father, who was deep in conversation with one of the traders. The boy looked back at Carter, then nodded. He looked over at his father one more time then ducked and crept past his parent's careful eye toward the forest.

Carter and Arthur followed. They snuck past a wooden house filled with sacks and boxes, then past a sheep pen, then past a small garden and something that definitely smelled like an outhouse. They crept outside the fort gates, then past a tiny patch of wooden crosses.

A cemetery. Definitely the oldest cemetery in the city!

Then they were at the very edge of the dark green forest. The boy pointed into the deep woods and said, “SNIP, SNIP.”

Carter gulped. The sun was low in the sky, barely piercing the treetops. The sounds of the fort were already far away, and the last thing Carter wanted to do was enter the dark green forest just as night fell.

But there could be no mistaking the Native boy. He pointed into the deep woods again and repeated those two words that Carter had come to dread: “SNIP, SNIP.”

Carter took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, I get it, Mr. Green is in there. Thanks, but I really don't want to do this.”

The boy put his hand on Carter's shoulder and said softly, “Car-tair.” His smile made Carter brave. He could do it — he could take Arthur into the dark, terrifying woods and look for Mr. Green.

Plus Sydney was out there, too, in some future time, calling his name. And Arthur's mom.

The boy raised his hand in a final farewell then disappeared back to the fort.

“See you,” Carter said quietly to his retreating back. “If you're ever in
my
time, I'll show you your city, although it's changed a little.”

And hopefully you'll be braver than me.

Sundown

I
t
was so dark that Carter almost couldn't see Arthur's face. The trees grew closer and closer together, and the late afternoon sun barely filtered down to the forest floor.

They crept along, working their way deeper into the gloom.

Suddenly Carter heard the sound of running water ahead. He
shhh'd
Arthur, and the two boys snuck over fallen logs and through the tightly growing tree trunks toward the sound.

SNIP!

SNIP!

Carter stopped.

Mr. Green stood beside a tiny, bubbling fountain. The water came up out of the ground and ran into a little stream that grew into a pool, and then meandered into the woods. Mr. Green stooped and took a drink.

“Hello, Carter,” he said without looking up. “You've finally found me. It took you long enough, much longer than most children. You must have dawdled.”

Dawdled?

“You! You're crazy! What have you done to us? We want to go home!”

Suddenly Carter wasn't scared. The whole afternoon flashed before him, the Wild Man of Borneo, the terrifying battlefield, the scary bear, and the constant feeling of being lost and weirdly out of place. No, he wasn't scared — all he felt was mad.

It felt good to be mad.

“You have no right to steal kids and send them back through time in your stupid maze! I don't even care how you did it … or why … but it's time to stop this! We're lost, we're tired, Arthur is scared … we almost got
blown up
by a huge gunpowder explosion during a BATTLE and … then a
bear
tried to eat us! If it wasn't for that Native boy …”

“Ah, yes, him,” the old man said. He snapped upright, and Carter was SURE he heard a cracking, like a twig. Mr. Green stared at Carter with his brown wooden eyes. Carter's own eyes were getting used to the gloom, and he suddenly noticed a girl standing perfectly still behind a tree, looking at him.

It was Creepy Leaf Girl. Finally, the last person from the maze! Carter gulped. The girl didn't have leaves growing out of her ears this time, thankfully. She just looked old-fashioned and normal. She smiled at Carter behind Mr. Green's back.

Mr. Green didn't stop talking.

“Ah yes, the Native boy. The magic of the maze is very old indeed, but his people have lived in this spot long before the maze arrived, so it holds no power over him. He was the first child to walk through the maze in this place, the first child to find his way out. He can come and go as he pleases and show others the way to me. It's annoying. Most children I choose for the maze have to work hard to find the exit, unless he's around.”

“What do you mean, ‘choose?' Why did you choose us?” Carter pulled Arthur closer.

“You, Carter? You were an interesting case. You were the boy who found everything dull, remember? You said, and I quote, ‘Nothing interesting has ever happened around here in the history of the world.' I wonder if you think that now? And as for Arthur … well … you needed a sidekick, didn't you?” Mr. Green stooped to take another drink from the fountain. Behind him, Creepy Leaf Girl looked hard at something, again and again. She kept looking at whatever it was and then looking back at Carter. He followed her eyes.

Mr. Green's red-handled garden shears lay against a tree. It was only the second time that Carter had ever seen them out of the old man's hands or out of his smock pocket.

The old man talked and took sips from the bubbling fountain.

“How did you like the bear? Or the grand magazine? Or the freak show? All quite
interesting
, don't you think? Or did you find them boring, too?” On and on he went, drinking from the fountain and talking.

Creepy Leaf Girl was still telling Carter something with her eyes. She kept darting looks at the garden shears against the tree. She wanted him to do something with them.

But what?

The old man was speaking. “Did you like how only other children and animals can see you in the maze? That's always been a nice touch, I think, don't you? Very disturbing not to know who can see you … and who can't. What do you think of time travel, Carter?” Mr. Green peered at Carter and blinked his wooden eyes. He didn't bother hiding his creepy thumb, and no doubt about it this time: leaves slowly sprouted and spiralled around his hand like an emerald green serpent.

“What? What do you want with us? I just want to go home.
We all
just want to go home.” Carter held on to Arthur. Creepy Leaf Girl pointed at the shears now, and then at the fountain of water behind Mr. Green. She was trying to get Carter to do something.

Mr. Green wasn't watching her. He had his eyes very keenly on Carter. His horrible, unblinking wooden eyes.

“Hmmm. Yes, no doubt you do want to go home. But there's a price. No one leaves the curious maze without paying. It's quite a simple price, though. All you have to do is answer these questions truthfully, and I'll let you go: Are you
scared
now? Was this afternoon
boring
? Or was the curious maze the most
interesting
ride at the fair?”

Carter frowned.
Scared
? No kidding!
Boring
? Hardly!
Interesting
? Yes!

But there was a stubborn place in Carter that suddenly dug in its heels. He and Arthur had been through so much. Why did Mr. Green get to say when they go home? What gave him the right to scare them? So Carter said, “You have no right to do this to us. Now send us home!” He hoped he sounded brave, but in the deep forest with creepy Mr. Green standing there … he probably didn't.

Mr. Green stood in a stray shaft of sunlight that filtered down through the trees. It was almost sundown, and soon the forest would be pitch black. The fountain burbled at Mr. Green's feet. Behind him, Creepy Leaf Girl gestured wildly at the garden shears.

The old man drew in close to Carter, and there was no doubt about it now: his eyes WERE made of wood. He blinked, and they clicked like marbles. Carter drew back in horror.

The old man laughed, or rather, creaked and moaned.

“You will wander the curious maze forever, like Clarissa here, until you answer me!”

Clarissa?

The old man closed his eyes and threw his head back to take another drink from the fountain. Leaves sprouted from his hair, his eyebrows, his ears, his hands ….

Now, Carter!

Carter lunged forward and grabbed the garden shears.

He tossed them through the air and they flipped end over end over end. With a fantastic leap, Clarissa caught them.

Then she plunged the garden shears deep into the fountain.

SPLOOSH! The water bubbled, burned and rose, higher and higher.

“No! NO!” the old man screamed. He threw his arms deep into the pool, frantically grasping for the shears hidden in the dark water. Clarissa ran up, pushed with all her might … and Mr. Green toppled and fell into the fountain.

One. Two. Three. Four seconds, and still no Mr. Green. The water bubbled, fumed, and roiled, rising angrily. Five seconds, six … seven, eight … the water rose higher and Carter held his breath.

…nine, ten, eleven, twelve …

… then a figure burst out of the pool. A twig man stepped stiffly out of the water, leafy arms held out.

The boys backed up in horror. The twig man took a few more stiff steps toward them, and then suddenly his leafy right arm jerked toward the sky. Then his left arm followed. The look of surprise froze on the twig man's face as it turned to tree bark. His feet grew into long roots that dove into the earth. With a huge
CRACK,
his arms grew and grew, and his chest thickened and lengthened as the tree trunk stretched toward the stars. His knees turned into tree limbs, his shoulders into huge boughs, his hair into leafy branches and twigs.

The figure crashed upward through the other trees, snapping, creaking, and breaking through everything in its path.

Right before their eyes, Mr. Green turned into an enormous and ancient tree.

Before he disappeared completely, the old man's voice carried on the wind:
and here is the end of the curious maze!