Magic by the Lake (2 page)

"This is keen," said Mark, after a bit. "I've got the crude inkling of it now, just about."

"I've almost figured out how not to catch crabs already," said Jane, plying the other oar and belying her words by sending a sizable jet of water all over Katharine.

But the shore was slipping by them visibly now, and they explored its possibilities with eager eyes. After their own grove of trees came a cottage or two, then more trees, then more cottages closer together, till up ahead the four children saw a little settlement, with a hotel and a dance pavilion and a soft-drink stand and a pier.

"That must be Cold Springs," said Jane, for that was the unusual name of the resort on this side of the lake.

All the cottages had boats, and most of the boats were on the water now, and when Mark saw a large excursion launch called the
Willa Mae
heading toward them from the hotel pier, he decided traffic conditions were too difficult for beginners and turned the rowboat around.

So they rowed back along the shore and decided which cottages they liked the looks of, and chose a pink one with curlicues as their favorite, till they came in sight of their own house and beach, already looking familiar and homelike. They rowed round the bend toward the boathouse, but the inlet was so inviting, what with water lilies gleaming whitely, and frogs sitting on lily pads looking bemused, and dragonflies hovering over the water, that Mark and Jane shipped their oars, and the four children drifted gently in the afternoon sun. It was then that Martha saw the turtle swimming past.

It was Mark who caught it. It was a big turtle, and it looked even bigger as he deftly scooped it up and landed it in the bottom of the boat.

"Watch out, maybe it's the snapping kind," said Jane.

But the turtle merely gave one look at the four children and withdrew into its shell in scorn.

"Put it back," said Katharine, who was of a tender heart. "It's not happy here."

"It will be," said Mark. "I'll build it a tank. I'll catch lots more and train them."

But when they had put the boat away and carried the turtle tenderly to the shade of a friendly oak, building a tank right now seemed all too energetic. The four children sat in the shade, lazily eating an occasional gooseberry from a convenient bush, and

talked, instead. The turtle still refused to make friends. Its apparently headless, footless shell lay upon the ground nearby.

"This summer," said Katharine; "is going to be a thing of beauty and a joy forever."

"Not quite," said Jane. "It's the middle of July already. Two more months and prison doors will yawn. And I get Miss Martin for seventh grade next year. Help!" And she fell back in a deadly swoon at the thought, and lay pulling up blades of grass and nibbling the juicy white bits off the bottom.

"Why couldn't we have found this place way back at the beginning of vacation?" said Katharine.

"If we had, we wouldn't have found the half-magic charm and Mother wouldn't have got married," said Mark.

"And there wouldn't have been any Uncle Huge to rent a cottage
for
us," said Martha, for that was the charming name she insisted on calling Mr. Smith, whose given name was Hugo.

"Maybe there would have," said Jane. "If I could find a magic charm right on Maplewood Avenue, it stands to reason there must be lots of it lying around still, just waiting for the right person to come along. Meaning me," she added smugly, and whistled through a blade of grass.

"Have you noticed the name on the cottage?" Katharine asked.

Martha and Jane hadn't. Katharine told them.

"Pooh," said Mark. "I told her that doesn't mean a thing. Just a goofy name."

"Maybe it does," said Katharine. "Maybe it means exactly what it says. Maybe there's a secret passage in the wall, and a wishing well, and buried treasure in the cellar!"

"And a dear little fairy in the keyhole," said Mark scoffingly. "Bushwah!"

"Magic by the lake," said Martha, trying out the words to herself. "Doesn't it sound lovely? Don't you wish it
were
true?"

"
I
certainly do," said Jane.

There was a silence. The turtle stuck its head out of its shell.

"Now you've done it," it said.

"What did you say?" said Martha.

"You heard me," said the turtle.

"I didn't know you could talk," said Katharine.

"Well, now you know," said the turtle. And it started to withdraw into its shell again.

"Wait. Please. Don't go," were the words of Katharine and Martha and Jane.

Mark wasted no time in speech. He laid hold of the turtle's head and hung on, deaf to all fear of snappings. The turtle's neck stretched alarmingly, but it could not get free. "I'm sorry if this is uncomfortable," Mark told it politely but firmly. "But you can't just say a thing like that and disappear. You've got to tell us more."

"Oh, very well," said the turtle crossly. "Unloose me," it added in rather a lordly way, and Mark let go its head. "Really, the manners of some people!"

"You're magic," said Martha.

"Naturally," said the turtle. "When a race lives as long as mine does, it stands to reason it would pick up a few rudiments. Of course," it added proudly, "
I
happen to be a particularly intelligent specimen, even for a turtle."

"Can all turtles talk?" asked Katharine.

"Oh,
that
! said the turtle. "We pick
that
up the first fifty years."

"Why don't you do it oftener then?" said Jane.

"We couldn't be bothered!" snapped the turtle, looking at her with no great liking.

Mark thought it wise to intervene. "About what we were just saying," he said. "Did you mean you've granted our wish?"

"Don't go saying I did it!" said the turtle. "Don't come complaining to
me\
People who go around making wishes without looking to see what magic beings are listening can just take the consequences!"

"Oh, we're not complaining," said Katharine quickly. "We think it's awfully nice of you. We're grateful. You've been very obliging. Thank you very much."

"Humph!" said the turtle.

"Magic's just about all we needed to make things just about perfect," said Jane.

"Ha!" said the turtle. "That's what
you
think. And a lot you know about it! But of course you couldn't be sensible, could you, and order magic by the pound, for instance, or by the day? Or by threes, the good old-fashioned way? Or even by halves, the way you did before?"

"Why, how do you know about that?" said Martha.

"I know everything," said the turtle. "If it's worth knowing. But no, not you. You had to be greedy and order magic by the lake, and of course now you've got a whole lakeful of it, and as for how you're going to manage it, I for one wash my hands of the whole question!"

"You mean the whole lake's magic?" said Mark. "
All
of it?"

"It is now," said the turtle.

Jane's eyes turned toward the lake. She gasped. "Look!" she said.

The others looked.

"What did I tell you?" said the turtle. It took one look at the lake, shuddered, and withdrew into its shell.

The four children stared, transfixed.

Every bit of the lake's surface seemed to be suddenly alive, and each bit of it was alive in a different way. It was like trying to keep track of a dozen three-ring circuses, only more so.

Water babies gamboled in the shallows. A sea serpent rose from the depths. Some rather insipid-looking fairies flew over. A witch hobbled on a far bank. A rat and a mole and a toad paddled along near the willowy shore, simply messing about in a boat. A family of dolls explored a floating island. On the other side of the same island, a solitary man stared at a footprint in the sand. A hand appeared in the middle of the lake holding a sword. Britannia ruled the waves. Davy Jones came out of his locker. Neptune himself appeared, with naiads and Nereids too numerous to mention.

The two younger children shut their eyes.

"Make it stop," said Martha.

"Now I know what too much of a good thing means," said Katharine. "I never thought there could be before."

"I wouldn't enjoy it," said Jane, surveying the lake critically. "Not in front of all those people. We couldn't enter in."

"Maybe it could be sort of simplified," said Mark. "Moderation is pleasant to the wise." And he turned to appeal to the turtle.

But the turtle had seized this opportunity to escape and was making for the water as fast as it could, which was fortunately not very fast.

The four children gave chase and brought it to bay. It went into its shell again. Mark rapped on the shell politely. The turtle peered cautiously from within.

"We've got to talk this over," said Mark. "You've got to do something."

"I did," said the turtle, from inside the shell, "and now look! There's no satisfying some people. And you needn't go asking me to take it back, because it's too late. Magic has rules, you know, the same as everything else."

"Yes, we know," said Mark, "but you'd never think so, to look at it now. It's all every which way."

They all looked at the lake again. Some Jumblies had appeared, going to sea in a sieve. A walrus and a carpenter danced with some oysters on a nearby shore. In the distance Columbus was discovering America.

"It's too big," said Katharine. "I think it needs alterations."

"Couldn't you let us have a few more wishes," said Jane, "so we can sort of tame it and know where we stand?"

"We'll be awfully grateful," said Katharine. "We'll build you a lovely tank and give you the best care money can buy."

"No, thank you," said the turtle. "I was perfectly happy in my own inlet, until you came along. I had a lovely life there. I want to go home."

"Not till you let us make more wishes," said Jane, putting her foot on the turtle firmly.

"Oh, very well," said the turtle, "if I must, I must. Only I have to make them.
I
m the magic one around here. And only three, mind. That's the magic number."

"Naturally," said Jane.

"Proceed," said the turtle. Jane removed her foot.

"First of all," said Mark, who had been thinking, "let's have only one magic adventure at a time. And not every day, just every so often. Then we'll have time to recover in between."

"Is that all one wish?" said the turtle. "I'll try, but it will take a lot out of me. The other two had better be easy."

"No grown-ups noticing," said Katharine. "So Mother won't abandon all hope of sanity, the way she did last time."

"And nothing scary," said Martha.

"Granted," said the turtle, "and that is absolutely
all.
"

The other three turned on Martha. "What did you have to go and ask
that
for?" said Jane. "Now it'll be all tame and namby-pamby and watered down! Like those awful children's editions of books Aunt Grace always gives us!"

"That
Three Musketeers
with Lady de Winter left right
out!
" said Mark.

"Excavated versions, I think they're called," said Katharine. "You can see why."

The turtle gave them a look. "Don't be so sure," it said. "After all, I made the wish; so there won't be anything in it that would scare
me.
But then," it added, and Katharine swore afterwards that it winked at them, "nothing
does
!"

And it started for the lake, leaving the four children with that to think over.

Mark ran after it. "Wait," he said. "How'll we know when it's time?"

"You won't," said the turtle, turning at the water's edge. "When you feel like magic, touch the lake and wish, and if the time is ripe, you'll get it. Or not, as the case may be." And it plopped into the water.

"Will we see you again?" Jane called.

"Not if I see you first," were the parting words of the turtle. "Try not to call unless it's absolutely necessary." And it swam away.

And where it touched the water, the magic started disappearing, and the disappearing spread outwards to both sides, like the wake of a ship, until, as the last ripple of turtle vanished in the distance, the lake lay calm and untroubled and uninhabited (except in a normal fishy way) under the setting sun, just as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.