“It’s time we got to movin’,” Mr. Rupert said.
Everyone started to get up from the table. Then they suddenly realized that they had nowhere to move to.
“Follow me,” Mr. Rupert said hastily. He didn’t go very far. He stopped in the living room.
“What are we going to do?” Peter asked Lina, as if she would know. Lina shrugged her shoulders, as if she was disappointed that she didn’t know.
“Everyone get to steppin’ off the throw rug.” Mr. Rupert got on his knees and kneeled in front of it.
Mrs. Young said, “A prayer now would be a good idea.” She bowed her head and clasped her hands together.
Mr. Rupert brushed back the fringe of the rug and took a set of keys out of his pocket. With the tip of the key, he lifted up a very small piece of the wood floor, revealing a keyhole. Not everyone could see what he was doing.
“Shall I start the prayer?” Mrs. Young asked Mr. Rupert.
“Although that is a fantastic idea, I think it best we get into the cellar first.” Mr. Rupert turned the key and lifted the rug, which was connected to part of the wooden floor, up above his head. A light revealed a winding staircase leading down.
“Wow, cool!” Henry exclaimed.
Peter thought it was cool too, but he was pretty sure Henry still had no idea what was really going on with Goaltan. How nice it would be to be oblivious of worry, when your only concern was what toy you would play with next, Peter thought.
“Now don’t fret. There is plenty of room for everyone,” Mr. Rupert said, waving them down the stairs.
Even though there were no windows, the spacious room at the bottom was well lit. Three walls were lined with mahogany wood shelves loaded with books. The wall with no books had coins hanging in frames. A door in that wall led to a small bathroom. A mahogany desk and small shelf next to it held more coins. The cluttered desk had a microscope, a magnifying glass, a few coins, scattered papers, and an open book that Peter was sure was a coin encyclopedia. There was also an old-time phone similar to one Peter had seen at a museum. Next to the phone was a picture of a young man who looked an awful lot like Mr. Rupert. A woman standing next to him held his hand and waved at the camera. Peter had been so preoccupied upstairs he hadn’t looked at any pictures.
Peter thought the coolest part of the room was the mini-refrigerator next to the desk on the opposite side of the coin shelf. Peter always wanted a mini-refrigerator in his room, but that would never fly with his mother. A magazine rack sat between two loveseats. A frilly paisley couch faced the loveseats in the center of the room.
“This here is my treasure room, where I come to admire my coins and get some readin’ done. Occasionally, I take a snooze in my chair. Make yourselves at home,” Mr. Rupert told everyone.
There wasn’t enough sitting room so Peter, Lina, Angela, and Joe sat on the floor. Henry walked over to the mini-fridge and opened the freezer door.
“Yum, ice cream sandwiches!” Henry said with delight.
“Henry, get out of there, right now!” Mrs. Young commanded.
“That’s all right. I would be curious to know what was in that there fridge too,” Mr. Rupert said, patting Henry on the head. “Ice cream sandwiches are my cravin’. I hid them in there. I doubt if ol’ Goaltan will find them and I just can’t bear to think of not eatin’ my sandwiches. Let’s see…grandtastic! There’s enough for everyone!”
“Grandtastic?” Henry said.
“Oh yes, that is somethin’ I made up,” Mr. Rupert said, pointing to the picture on the desk. “That is my son and his lovely wife. I want to be a grandpa more than anythin’. My wife, rest her soul, wanted to be a grandma too. Whenever we would get around our son, we would use grandtastic instead of fantastic for any opportunity that the word seemed to fit. Sort of droppin’ the hint we were still waitin’ on those grandchildren. Hallelujah, I just found out last week that I am gonna be a grandpa!” The old man’s eyes twinkled. Congratulations rang around the room.
“Can we have ice cream sandwiches, Ma?” Henry asked.
“No!” Lina and Peter answered in unison. They knew how Joe and Angela would feel about it. They were sure the Candonite children did not want to see everyone around them chomping down on something that might resemble their best friend or relative.
Mr. Rupert seemed to understand. “How about if it’s okay with your mamma, you eat this one sittin’ in my desk chair over in the corner so as to not disturb anyone.” He waited for Mrs. Young’s consent, then handed Henry the sandwich. He picked him up and put him in the desk chair, sliding the chair out of Joe and Angela’s sight. He winked at the Candonite children and they smiled back.
“What else is in the fridge?” Henry asked as Mr. Rupert walked away.
“Just some orange juice, bread, and jam. My afternoon snack,” Mr. Rupert answered.
“Do you get lonely down here?” Henry asked what Peter was thinking.
“Oh no, I have many friends there in the books I read. Old friends and new friends. I don’t have time to be lonely. I am always on an adventure.” He picked up a book with a picture of a crimson jewel on the front off a shelf. “Right now, I am solvin’ a high-profile mystery in Venice. My son also comes to visit with his wife every other week. They enjoy comin’ down here and readin’ books or comparin’ our coin collections. My wife always wanted a hidden room ever since she read a book about one. I built her this here room and we hold our treasures in it.” Mr. Rupert smiled.
“A secret room at my house would be awesome,” Peter admitted.
“I would keep all my toys in my secret room so Lina couldn’t play with them,” Henry said.
“As if I play with your toys!” Lina protested.
“Do you have anything I would want to read?” Henry asked Mr. Rupert, ignoring Lina.
“Oh yes, I have a children’s book section over here,” Mr. Rupert said, leading Henry over to a shelf.
Henry started pulling books off the shelf, looking for the perfect one to read. All eyes except Nana’s were on Henry. Peter thought, It would be nice to be Henry at that moment, not a care in the world. The room rumbled. One book fell sideways on a shelf and everyone near it jumped. Henry didn’t seem to notice. He was busy jumping up and down because he had found one of his favorite books on the shelf.
“What is going on out there?” Mrs. Fischer questioned.
“I don’t know and I ain’t willin’ to find out!” Mr. Rupert answered, putting the book back in its place.
Everyone sat in silence for several minutes, just listening. Henry read his book to himself over and over. Nana, however, had her eyes closed. She was far away in Honeyville.
“We can’t stay in here forever,” Rod said.
“Yes, we can!” Mrs. Young said anxiously. Peter got the feeling she was worried her husband might try to go and investigate. Peter’s mom must have gotten the same feeling too, because she asked Nana to continue telling about Honeyville. Maybe—just maybe—her story could possibly help.
As Nana resumed her story, she was inside Alyssa’s family’s limousine, sitting in the back seat with Alyssa’s mother. Her mother was as beautiful as Alyssa. When the sun hit her just right, her light green candy crystals were almost blinding. The limo hovered a few feet off the ground and came with a chauffeur. They were approaching the family home. Nana described it as a mansion shaped like a colossal pyramid, turquoise in color with bright pink trim and a matching mailbox at the end of the long driveway.
“Once inside, Alyssa’s mother informed us that dinner should be ready at any moment,” Nana said. “Alyssa’s father would not be joining us that night as he had a big dinner meeting. Alyssa told me that her father missed dinner all the time. She said her dad worked very hard to make sure her family had a good life. Alyssa would much rather have her dad at home for dinner every night and live in a rundown shack. The way Alyssa said it, I believed her. Alyssa’s mother worked on inventions a couple of days a week in her lab at home. Her mom used to work until the wee hours of the morning until she realized that there were more important things in life.”
“There certainly are,” Mrs. Fischer interjected.
Nana continued, “At dinner, I was shocked to see the sparkling white floor graced with a spread fit for a party, yet only Alyssa’s mother, Alyssa, and I were having dinner. There were lush pillows spread around the floor in luxurious rich fabrics. Alyssa’s cat, which to my delight was a green version of one I had seen on a globe in the foyer, was a bundle of spearmint joy and sat on a pillow. As we enjoyed our meal, something remarkable happened to the dining room walls. Every five minutes or so, the pictures that adorned them would change. The colors of the walls would morph into the perfect shades that would match the pictures.”
As Nana told her story, Peter observed the faces of his family and friends. Everyone looked like they were trying to enjoy Nana’s pleasant tale, but there was no masking the worry on their faces. Peter had to do something. He couldn’t stand to think what Goaltan was doing above ground. It wasn’t fair that he was destroying the things Peter’s family loved so deeply.
Flashes of Papa’s Sweet Shop, Curtis Wheeler’s mother’s Cupcakery, and Happy’s donut shop flickered in his sight. These people didn’t deserve this. The house that Goaltan was seeking out was where Peter had grown up. He felt partially responsible. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t gorged himself that fateful day, thereby transporting himself to Maple Town. Peter looked over at Lina. She sat with her legs crossed, twisting strands of carpet. Peter sensed she must have been thinking the same thing. His parents would never let him go above ground to face Goaltan. But it didn’t matter; he knew in his heart what he had to do.
“I am going up there,” he said, exhaling a deep breath. Peter wasn’t sure where his newfound courage was coming from, but he was going to flow with it.
“I am going with you,” Lina replied, standing up.
As Peter had expected, there was a chorus of disapproval.
“Look, I have to. I have to face Goaltan. We can’t spend the rest of our lives down here,” Peter said.
“He has a point there. We don’t have enough chow to last us more than a couple days without going topside,” Rod said.
“Dad, this isn’t a submarine,” Lina reminded him.
Rod managed a weak smile. “Sorry, it’s the military side of me.”
“I guess some of us could take a look around. No promises of actually interacting with Goaltan, though,” Peter’s father said.
Not everyone agreed with this plan. However, ultimately the majority ruled. Peter and Lina received their wish.