In the end, they all said yes. And on Sunday morning, early, early, early, Wunder snuck out of his house for the second time in his life.
This time he left a note taped to the front door:
Went to help Davy deliver papers. Be home tonight.
It would take seven hours to get to Benedict by train and then seven hours to get back to Branch Hill, so he wouldn’t be home until after dinner. He hoped his note would keep his parents from worrying or doing anything drastic like calling the police.
Then again, he wasn’t entirely sure that either of them would realize he was gone.
It was still dark as he carefully wheeled his bike out of the shed. He had attached his red wagon to it the night before, with a duffel bag full of supplies stowed inside. Once he got to the street and started pedaling, the supplies clanked and clacked with every pedal rotation, a mobile percussion set.
Faye and Davy were waiting at the bike rack by the train platform. Train rules allowed them to bring their bikes on board, but they had decided against it. Any extra steps would attract more attention, and they wanted to be as discreet as possible.
Wunder unhooked the wagon, which he was bringing, from his bike. The duffel bag banged and rattled and grated.
“Wundie, what do you have in there?” Faye poked the bag. It banged and rattled and grated some more.
“Things we might need,” Wunder said. “We don’t know where the tree is going to be, so I brought a hammer, screwdrivers, a wrench, wire cutters, some netting, a shovel. Oh, and a saw, of course. Only a handheld one. I wanted to bring the chain saw—”
Davy let out a yelp of protest.
“Too big though,” Wunder continued, ignoring him.
“Oh, I wish you had brought it,” Faye said. “Especially if we get caught. Nothing says innocence like a chain saw in a gym bag.”
“We won’t get caught.”
“Listen to you, so positive,” Faye said.
“I am,” Wunder said. And he smiled, a small smile. Then wider and wider, until he was grinning. It felt strange. But it felt good too, like going outside after being cooped up for a long time, like breathing in fresh air.
“All right, all right,” Faye said. “That’s enough. Let’s go get on this train that we’re probably going to get thrown off of.”
They crossed one set of tracks and then went up the ramp to the train platform. Wunder led them to the very end, as far from the ticket booth as they could get. They already had wristbands and tickets. The witch had produced these from one of the squeaky-hinged kitchen cabinets on Friday night. Wunder had wondered how long she’d had them and how she had gotten them, but he hadn’t asked. He had asked about other things though.
“You know, there are rules about kids traveling on trains,” he had said. “We’re supposed to have a parent bring us to the station and talk to the station agent.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” the witch had said. “It would be easier if you were older. What I am asking you to do, it will be difficult. But not impossible, I don’t think. Not impossible.”
They had to wait only a few minutes before their train pulled up, right on time. When the doors opened, they hurried on and found seats. The train car was empty.
The conductor came around a few minutes later. She squinted down at them.
“How old are you three?” she asked. She took their tickets and squinted at each one. Then she squinted right at Davy, who shrank back in his seat. Wunder thought he probably should have handled all the tickets, being the tallest of the three. Davy looked like a third grader. “How’d you get these tickets? And what’re you going to Benedict for?”
“My father lives there,” Faye spoke up. She pinned her bangs back and fixed the conductor with a deadpan stare. “My mother says he’s an adulterer, a heathen, et cetera, but he’s my father. Last time I threatened to curse him to the seventh level of Hades, so my friends are here with me this time. They’re a calming influence.”
The conductor blinked a few times. Her eyes shifted over to Wunder, who gave her his best calming smile. Davy pulled his knees up to his chin and studied the floor.
“Anything else you’d like to know?” Faye asked.
“Not a thing,” the conductor said. She scanned their tickets and handed them back. “But your heathen father better be at the station at Benedict to pick you three up. Those are the rules.”
When she left the train car, Wunder let out a sigh of relief.
“Great job, Faye!” he cried.
“Thank you, Wundie,” Faye said. “But we still have to sneak off this train. And please stop smiling like that. It’s very unnerving.”
“Okay, I will,” Wunder promised. But he didn’t stop.
“You look insane,” Faye told him. “Certifiable.”
“I don’t think so.” Davy uncurled himself. “I think he looks happy. He always used to look like that.”
“Well, then he always used to look insane,” Faye said.
Wunder laughed, and Faye jerked her head away from him, her expression alarmed. “Stop that,” she said.
“It sounds good,” Davy said.
“It doesn’t,” Faye said. “Don’t tell him that. It sounds maniacal, and you know it.”
Wunder kept grinning. All he could think was that they were doing what the witch had asked. They were getting the tree.
And then there was going to be a miracle.
The stone of his heart was rolling from side to side to side, waiting, anticipating.