“He didn’t seem to know anything about Theo,” said Phoebe. They had retraced their steps and were following the path that Mrs. Miller had first suggested. They passed the plumegranate orchards, where a dozen pickers were working, loading the ripe fruit into a large handcart that Mr. Miller wheeled between the trees. He waved at them as they passed.
“I’m not so sure,” said Bea, waving back. “I think he was just avoiding our questions.”
“If he doesn’t want to tell us more, I don’t see how we can make him.”
“We can still threaten to turn him in.”
“But we promised.”
Bea stopped in the road. “Granny Delphine always says, ‘Blood is thicker than water.’” She knelt down and unzipped the backpack. Nails poked his nose out and sniffed, then jumped out gratefully and scurried to the grass verge to forage for his breakfast.
“What does that mean?”
“I think it means that your family is more important than anything. If I thought it would help us to find Theo I wouldn’t think twice about turning Arkadi in.”
They passed a slightly ramshackle windmill and turned left, walking on through the open countryside in the gathering heat. Bea noticed that she could hear different notes in the buzzing of the bees. Not only could she tell how near they were and in what numbers, but before long she could distinguish the bees of one hive from those of another. When she mentioned this to Phoebe she found to her surprise that Phoebe could hear only a bee that was flying close. She could not hear the network of bees crisscrossing the fields as Bea could, nor the hum of distant hives.
Ahead of them the road curved through a range of low rounded hills. They could see three or four small copses of trees, their trunks slender and their leaves pale and feathery in the distance. Nails had stayed close, as she thought he would. He trotted along on the road ahead, sometimes diving into a ditch to rummage in the long grass, then running to catch up. Bea could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She pictured Theo sitting there among the trees, waiting impatiently for her to arrive. She did not want to get her hopes up, and she pushed the picture from her mind.
“Do you think that might be where he is?” said Phoebe.
“I hope so,” said Bea, “but things aren’t usually that simple.” She concentrated on the sound of the bees to keep her mind occupied. Reaching the trees seemed to be taking forever. She noticed that the tracks of the bees were converging on the nearest copse. A fat honeybee arrowed past them, but as it approached the copse it began to zigzag and fly in circles.
“I wish we hadn’t given away all our sandwiches,” said Phoebe.
Bea smiled. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’ll have honey instead.”
“Did we bring honey?”
“No, but there’s a hive in those trees.”
“How do you know?”
“That bee told me,” said Bea. “It flies straight toward home, but when it gets near the hive it flies in circles.”
“Maybe it’s lost.”
Bea shook her head. “I think it’s trying to confuse us, so we can’t easily spot the hive.”
“You never went around in circles when you got near your apartment.”
“I’m not a bee,” said Bea. “Not a honeybee, anyway,” she corrected herself.
They had reached the trees now. There were about twenty of them, tall and slender with silver bark and heart-shaped leaves. Bea stood for a while, her eyes closed and her ears open to the pattern of bee trails that surrounded her. “There,” she said, and she opened her eyes. She pointed to a hole in the trunk of a tree a little way ahead of them. A couple of bees were coming in to land, and more were setting out on foraging duty.
Phoebe shaded her eyes and looked. “I can see them now,” she said, “but how will we get the honey?”
Bea put Theo’s backpack at the foot of the tree. “First we’ve got to look for Theo,” she said. The trees were spaced far enough apart for grass to grow beneath them, dappled by the sunlight through the leaves. It did not seem likely that even a small boy could be easily hidden here. Bea took the Squeak Jar from the backpack. She sat down in the cool grass and placed the listening horn to the lid. “Theo?” she said.
“What?” said Theo’s voice. There was no waterfall to mask the sound now, and she could hear him clearly. He sounded quite cheerful.
“You never answered me about the moon,” said Bea.
“What about it?”
“Is it blue or yellow?”
“How should I know? It’s the middle of the day.”
“Are the Tree People there?”
“They’re always here.”
“Ask them why they’re keeping you.”
There was a brief conversation, though Bea could make out only Theo’s muffled voice. “They’re just looking after me. They said I’ve always been here.”
“But you just got there yesterday,” said Bea.
“The Tree People have never heard of yesterday,” said Theo.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s funny. They only remember what’s happened since we woke up this morning, but they know lots of stuff.”
Bea shook her head as if to clear it. This didn’t seem to be getting her any closer to finding Theo.
“Can you still see me?” she asked him.
“I can when you’re here,” said Theo.
“Pinch my arm,” said Bea.
“But you’re always telling me not to do that.”
“This time I want you to.”
“You’ll just pinch me back,” said Theo with a touch of suspicion.
“I can’t even see you,” said Bea. She tried to keep the impatience from her voice. She waited, but nothing happened.
“What now?” came Theo’s voice.
“I didn’t feel anything.”
“That was my best pinch,” said Theo indignantly. “The twisty one. Usually you scream like those peacocks in the zoo.”
Bea gave a short laugh. She wished more than anything that Theo were right there with her and Phoebe. She wouldn’t mind how much he was annoying her. “I just wish you could tell me where you are,” she said.
“The Tree People say that a wish is no good unless you can give it legs,” said Theo.
“How can a wish have legs?” asked Bea.
“Beats me,” said Theo. “They say lots of weird things.”
Bea looked around her in frustration. She was sure Theo couldn’t be in the small copse where she and Phoebe sat. There were others scattered among the low hills, but it would take days to search them all. If only there were a quicker way to find out if Theo was there.
“Can’t you light a fire or something?” asked Bea, thinking of lost people on desert islands.
“Okay!” said Theo. “There’s a magnifying glass on my penknife. If I can just get this dry leaf to stay still…” He sounded enthusiastic, and Bea thought about how he had set fire to the kitchen bin the year before. And the balcony, when he had been burning a picture onto a piece of wood with the same magnifying glass. And the bathroom, she remembered suddenly. How could anyone set fire to a bathroom?
“On second thought—,” she began to say, but before she had finished there was a commotion from the Squeak Jar.
She heard Theo say, “Ouch! I didn’t…” His voice became muffled. She called his name a couple of times, and just when she was about to give up, she heard him again faintly. “Have to go!” he said, and then there was silence.