Bright Lights, Big Christmas(42)
By nine, the Tolliver Family Tree Farm stand was packed with customers, all of them clamoring for trees and selfies with Spammy and quaint stories about life on a Christmas tree farm. She resisted the temptation to start fabricating stories about magical elves, watch owls, and dastardly bike-stealing trolls, and concentrated on pasting on a (mostly) cheery smile.
Vic scurried around the stand, helping buyers choose trees, wielding the chain saw to cut down trunks, and carrying their purchases to cars or nearby addresses.
The pile of larger trees needing delivery kept growing, as Kerry promised Murphy and his bike should be back on the premises by Sunday.
By noon, the tree stand had been nearly stripped of the remaining unsold trees.
“Go ahead and leave,” Kerry told Vic, as she counted out his earnings into his outstretched palm. “If Murphy gets back with another load of trees, we could probably use your help again tomorrow, if you’re available.”
“Have to check with my mom,” he said. “Can I text you in the morning?”
“Of course. Great job today, Vic. Don’t know what I would have done without you.”
He grinned and pointed to his jacket’s pockets, bulging with tip money. “Are you kidding? I made bank today!”
“Maybe just one more favor?” she asked. “Can you run down to the hardware store and bring me back a load of firewood? This Southern girl is about to freeze to death out here.”
* * *
The afternoon was as slow as the morning was harried. Kerry took Queenie for a quick walk to Anna’s for a sandwich and some coffee.
She fetched her sketchbook from the trailer and resumed doodling with a sketch of a saucy Westie she’d spotted down the block. She drew him wearing a handsome plaid jacket that matched his owner’s, a woman she recognized from the Kaplans’ building.
“Hi, Kerry.” Austin raced to her side. He was bundled up in a thick puffer jacket, snow boots, mittens, and a green-and-red-striped ski cap.
“Can we work on our story now? My dad said it doesn’t look like you’re too busy right now.”
She handed him the sketchbook. “Where were we?”
He flipped through the pages. “Here,” he said, stabbing his finger on the page with the elaborate gate and the secret forest. “I think what happens next is, the bad guys figure out how to get into the forest, to steal the trees.”
Kerry glanced across the street, where one of the Brody brothers was standing in the street, flipping his CHEAP TREES sign around like a majorette’s baton.
“What if,” she said, musing out loud, “we made the bad guys brothers?”
“Yeah!” Austin said.
Suddenly, Patrick was on the sidewalk, directly behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze in greeting.
“What did those two do now?” he asked, gesturing at the Brodys.
“Pretty sure they stole Murphy’s bike and trailer last night,” she said.
“Here comes Mr. Heinz,” Austin announced, pointing at the elderly man, who was walking slowly toward them.
He made his way into the stand and nodded a hello to Patrick and Kerry.
“Well, look who’s here today,” Heinz said. “I’ve missed seeing you this week, young man. Any new ideas for our story?”
“Yeah. The bad guys are brothers, cuz they stole Murphy’s bike,” Austin said indignantly.
“Really?” Heinz held out his hand for a pencil.
He turned to a blank page in the sketchbook. His gnarled fingers clutched the pencil, and it flew over the paper. In the blink of an eye, he’d drawn two menacing figures, black clad, crouched in front of the merest suggestion of the gate Kerry had drawn, and peeking furtively in at the forest beyond.
“That’s them,” Austin said, nodding vigorously. “But what are their names?”
“Malvolio and Iago,” Heinz suggested.
“Those are funny names,” Austin said, wrinkling his nose.
“Two of Shakespeare’s most despicable villains,” the old man informed him. “Unfortunately, you’re correct. Those names are hardly familiar to young people these days.”
“Sad but true,” Patrick agreed.
“I know. Gordy and Payton,” Austin said. “Those are the two worst kids in first grade.”
“What makes these children so bad?” Heinz asked.
“Well. Gordy is a biter, and Payton sits behind me and kicks my desk when the teacher isn’t looking,” the boy reported.
“Looks like we have our villains,” Kerry agreed. “Nobody likes a biter. Now. How do they manage to sneak into the forest?”
“I think they should parachute in out of a helicopter,” Patrick said. “And then maybe throw in some smoke grenades.”
“Daaad.” Austin rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that what happens in those movies Mom won’t let me watch?”
Kerry got up and walked to the front of the trailer, where she’d just noticed something she’d overlooked earlier in the day. It was the chain Murphy used to secure his bike and trailer.
“I think they used bolt cutters,” she said, showing the men the chain.
chapter 31