**
Dinner and Discovery
Discovery is always fun.
-Harry Finkle
While sitting at the dinner table, Lizzy pondered the lever. Just thinking about it was amazing. The lever was like nothing she could have ever imagined. It was literally magical.
“Father, what do you think about the strange weather here in Finkleton?” Lizzy was wondering if her father had known about the lever when he was a little boy.
Robert glared at Lizzy, but their father spoke as if she wasn’t asking anything special. “As far as I know, Finkleton has perfect weather for all its crops,” William replied as he buttered his bread. “The farmers certainly say so. Why do you ask?”
“I was just curious, is all,” Lizzy said. She wanted to ask more, but didn’t want to give away Robert’s secret. After all, she had promised. “Do you think it’s possible that someone could control the weather? Like the rain, for instance?”
Robert’s eyes widened with panic. Lizzy is going to tell Father! he thought. I have to stop her. It’s my secret to tell, not hers!
Robert gave Lizzy’s shins a swift kick under the table. She screeched, then glared at him.
Robert glared right back. I might be only 8 years old, he thought, but I know a thing or two about teaching my nosey sister a lesson. If she tells anyone about the secret lever, I’ll place bugs or worms or frogs or something in her bed before she goes to sleep.
Meanwhile, William just chuckled over Lizzy’s question. “I don’t think that’s possible, Lizzy. Only Mother Nature controls the weather.”
“But what if someone could, Father? What if someone could actually control, say, the rain?”
“Well, Lizzy,” William said, patting the corners of his mouth with a napkin as he finished chewing his bread, “if someone could, I daresay it would be dangerous.”
Robert looked at his father. “What do you mean?”
“Simply imagine it for a moment. If the person in charge was good, all would be fine and well. But if it was a bad person...” William studied the expressions of his two younger children. They were staring open-mouthed at him. “All right,” he said. “I see you don’t understand. Let me try to explain it using Finkleton as an example. Not one farmer wants to leave this village, right?”
Robert and Lizzy nodded.
“The reason for that is the weather is perfect for each farmer. Their crops flourish, so they love it here. But let’s say Mr. Bad Guy wants to buy Mr. Farmer’s land, and Mr. Farmer doesn’t want to sell. How could Mr. Bad Guy make him change his mind?” William raised an eyebrow for emphasis, but Robert and Lizzy didn’t respond.
“If Mr. Bad Guy could control the weather,” William continued, “then he could do one of two things.”
“What? What would he do, Father?” Robert asked.
Lizzy just listened intently.
William watched them both while he explained. “Mr. Bad Guy would either not allow Mr. Farmer to have any rain for his crops, or he would make it rain so much that the crops would become flooded. Either way, Mr. Farmer’s crops would be ruined.”
“But how would that make Mr. Farmer sell his land?” Lizzy asked.
“Well,” William said, relaxing forward with his elbows on the table, “if Mr. Farmer couldn’t produce a good crop, he wouldn’t be able to sell it to make money. He wouldn’t be able to provide food, clothing and other necessities for his family; and a man has to provide for his family. In the end, Mr. Farmer would have no choice but to sell his farm. And guess who would be waiting to buy it?”
Robert gasped. “Mr. Bad Guy!”
“Yes, Robert, you’re correct,” William said, grinning proudly. “Mr. Bad Guy would buy the farm. More than likely, he would even pay less than the farm is worth.”
“That wouldn’t be fair,” Lizzy pointed out.
William looked at her, his head tilted a bit, making him look a little sad. “The world isn’t fair, Lizzy. And if Mr. Bad Guy could control the weather and ruin a farm to buy it at a low price, then why would he stop at just one? Why would he not place other farmers in ruin for his own gain as well?”
Now it was Lizzy’s turn to kick Robert under the table. He gasped and glared at Lizzy. Her eyes said “I told you so” without her having to say anything at all.
Robert knew what his father had said was true. The power to control the weather could be dangerous in the wrong hands. He thought about the lever. Not only was it magical, it was also very powerful.
Robert was now convinced it was his duty to keep the lever secret. As long as Lizzy didn’t tell anyone about it, it would remain safe. That would be the only way to prevent someone like Mr. Bad Guy from destroying all the farms in Finkleton. Robert was sure Lizzy would agree with him and keep it secret as well.
William directed his attention toward Jack, who sat in silence at the other side of the dinner table. “Jack, my boy. What of you today? Anything interesting happen?”
Jack wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Nothing much, Father, except that a Mr. Lowsley came into the shop today inquiring about any land that might be for sale. He said he would visit again in a day or so to see if we knew of any farmers wanting to sell their land.”
Robert’s mouth dropped open in horror.
Lizzy’s eyes grew wide. “Father, Mr. Lowsley could be Mr. Bad Guy!”
William waved his hand in the air, as if fanning away any troublesome ideas. “It’s nothing to worry about, children. I daresay we’ve only just arrived and wouldn’t know of any such things. We merely run a store, after all. Maybe Mr. Lowsley should inquire at the local pub.” He noticed the scared expressions of Lizzy and Robert and, just for fun, pointed a finger at them. In a dark and dangerous voice, he said, “Mr. Lowsley could indeed be Mr. Bad Guy. But children, you are forgetting one small detail!” William raised his eyebrows.
Both Robert and Lizzy sat up straight. “What?” they cried.
William smiled and pointed one finger up in the air. “We do not control the weather!”
Robert and Lizzy glanced at each other without saying a word. Unlike their father, they were not laughing.
**
After dinner, Lizzy helped Emma clean up the table and dishes as quickly as she could so she could go to her room and read another book.
Jack went to Uncle Harry’s office to do more organizing, and to see what else could be found. He opened drawers and sorted through papers that had nothing more on them than scribbles.
“You look like a lot of useless trash that should be thrown away,” he said to the papers.
Jack pulled out the entire right drawer and set it on top of the desk to get a better look. When he did so, he heard a curious clicking sound. Jack bent down to inspect the empty hole where the drawer had been.
In the rear of the drawer and just to the left, there was a small lever. Jack knelt, reached in and pulled the lever. In response, he heard another clicking sound, this time from beneath the desk. Jack removed his arm and peered underneath.
“What is that?” he asked out loud.
What Jack found was a secret compartment under the desk. The small lever behind the drawer had opened it. Jack raised his hand to touch a small drawer that had opened.
“What is what?” said a voice behind Jack.
Jack jumped in surprise, bumping his head on the desk. He stayed kneeling and looked over the desk to see Robert standing in the doorway. Jack rubbed his head where he’d hit it, and Robert giggled at the sight.
“What is it, Robert?” Jack demanded.
Robert looked at the floor, knowing he shouldn’t have giggled at his brother. But Jack looked so funny when he’d hit his head, Robert thought. After a moment Robert lifted his eyes. “I’m sorry, Jack. I was only wondering if you were going to help me fix the string that you accidentally broke.”
“Not now, Robert. I’m busy,” Jack said. He wanted Robert to leave the office so he could see what was inside the hidden compartment.
Robert crossed his arms and huffed, trying not to cry. “But you said you would help me fix it! You promised!”
“Yes I did, Robert. And I will. But at this precise moment, I’m very busy,” Jack replied firmly.
Robert was not happy. “You’re full of empty promises! I’ll do it myself!” Robert stomped away while Jack rubbed his sore head.
Once Robert was gone, Jack reached back under the desk to open the small compartment. He pulled out a small, dusty leather journal, and a small scroll that was tied with a piece of twine.
Jack blew the dust off the journal. On the cover was the title FINKLE. Jack decided to take the journal and scroll to his room so he could read them without any possible interruptions.