Chapter Twenty-Two

Mara had driven to Dr. Akub's cottage before when she and Dru had dropped off Battery. She had not, however, truly noticed the neighbourhood. She witnessed houses becoming mansions and mansions turning into manors. Dr. Akub's pokey little cottage seemed entirely out of place distantly at the end of the road in this fancy locale.

Taking in the peeling paint and overgrown hydrangeas, Mara could scarcely disguise her surprise. He laughed.

“I know. It is to the horror and dismay of all my neighbours that I live like this. But, you see, no one disturbs me. Now and then I slap on a coat of paint or mow my grass, just enough so they can see I am making an effort and can't make a public complaint.”

Mara was still confused. He hurried her out of the car and into the house. The hallway was dark. She remembered how he had described it during their first meeting and was pleased to find the tapestry hanging where she had suspected it would be. The professor did not turn on a single light.

“But let me show you the backyard. It's much more private,” he chuckled to himself, “and a little nicer.” He led her down innumerable bleak hallways. Mara could only dimly make out obscured antique furniture and even blacker picture frames on the walls. The cottage was rampant with shadow.

After three or four flights of stairs with ebony bannisters, Mara was completely disoriented. How had they been physically able to descend so far when they had entered the cottage at street level? They reached a solid, wooden door. The professor opened it, and Mara gasped.

The light flooded in like a warm bath. For a few seconds, she could not focus. Her vision adjusted, and she stepped out.

“It's magnificent,” she whispered. Dr. Akub beamed.

Proudly, the professor escorted Mara into his sunken garden. It was at least ten metres below the entrance level of the house. It was entirely surrounded by towering banks that became dense forest on all sides. This garden must have been utterly invisible to anyone around unless seen directly from the air.

Iron and wooden sculptures dotted the immense garden, popping up between ornamental plantings taking shapes of animals and insects. Low, manicured, boxwood hedges divided ornate beds of flowers. Pebbled pathways flowed between beds and numerous fountains and ultimately led to the topiary maze at the far left of the garden. Each section had a distinct style and aroma as determined by the plantings, water features, furnishings, and types of birds it beckoned.

Mara just stood, stunned.

“Mara, this place has been my little secret. It is somehow connected to your world, but as yet I don't know how. I thought by bringing you here, I might be able to solve the puzzle.”

“Professor, I don't understand,” stated Mara.

“Nor do I, to be honest,” replied Akub. “After I came back from your world, I tried desperately to return there in dream. But I only ever had dreams of this garden. In fact, I was pretty much haunted. I knew I had to build it.”

“But how did you create all of this so quickly?”

“Again, I don't really know. It's only been about a year and a half. I am almost in a trance when I am gardening. I find myself out here sometimes at three in the morning, covered in mud. For instance, I have no recollection of how I managed to get those sculptures down here.

“The only thing about which I am certain is that the garden has to remain a secret. And not just because my memory lapses would build a case for my so-called fragile grasp of sanity! So, other than Battery, none of my students know this place exists. That is why I don't mow my front lawn. I prefer my neighbours to think that I am an absentminded professor incapable of mowing his lawn than for them to have the slightest inkling of my oasis.”

They walked toward the topiary maze. Mara was appreciating the hedges shaped like mythical creatures when she heard steps on the gravel behind her. She turned carefully to see Battery running toward her with Pixie in her arms. The polecat jumped down and disappeared into the maze. The girls hugged affectionately.

“I am so glad you are here! Beautiful, isn't it? Pixie loves to come here and play.”

“It's incredible. Really.” Mara was still dying to know what was going on. The professor led the girls expertly through the maze. They turned right at the bear and left at the unicorn. Finally, Battery spoke, “Mara, other than about the garden, I don't know what my uncle told you.”

“Nothing,” replied Mara and the professor simultaneously.

“Well, here we go then,” continued Battery. “Dru's uncle is the minister of learning. He was the one who funded our programme. Recently, funding has been pulled, and so the programme will die. Because this project was sanctioned and financed directly by the ministry, Grigoras Vihesi is the only person who could do this. Even the university could not do it.”

“But why would he close you down? You are making progress. I'm sure that he must know that. Dru must have told him …” Mara faded off, and her mind spun. Of course, Dru must have told his uncle about the cordless phone, about her, about everything!

Dr. Akub spoke. “All right, we know that much. But why does he specifically want us to stop our research? He has firsthand accounts that your world exists. It makes no sense for him to pull funding out of disbelief. Therefore, he must be doing it because he believes us. He knows we are onto something.

“Everything is tidy. I am allowed to finish the course but will then be reinstated to literature, teaching some dreadful classes with three hundred students. My twelve students will receive credit for their work with me and will be accepted—no questions asked—into the faculties of their choosing.

“There have been newspaper articles stating that my programme is being suspended because of my questionable sense of reality. My students have been subject to mockery.” Mara saw Battery look to the ground and knew it was true.

“We are being swept under the carpet,” he continued. “It has been an entirely systematic public campaign to humiliate me and erase any credibility attached to this project.” The three fell silent except for the sounds of their footsteps on gravel. They turned back at the nymph fountain, and the professor guided the return to the main garden.

“But why?” was all Mara could articulate.

“That,” spoke Dr. Akub, “is what we need to find out.”

They rested on a bench in front of an enormous bronze gull. Its wings were smooth and deliciously reflected the sunshine. Mara thought again about how surprisingly beautiful the garden was.

“Mara, the reason I called you was that we are also worried about you. You can't come here anymore unless it is planned. We cannot risk anyone else seeing you. But …” Battery hesitated, “we also need something from you.”

“Of course! Anything.” Battery and Dr. Akub shared a glance.

“It's potentially dangerous,” spoke the professor, “because we cannot really secure privacy when you travel back and forth. I have put together a folder of some information on Dru's uncle. Please take it with you and do some research on your side. See if any sort of connection shows up. Then we'll set a time when we can meet again.” Dr. Akub was guilt-ridden giving this amount of work and responsibility to the girl but knew he had no alternative.

Mara suggested they meet at the same place and time on Friday. Both parties would wait no more than fifteen minutes before trying again the next day. Battery and Dr. Akub agreed with Mara's proposal but warned her that there was no way of communicating. Even the porto-talker was not safe.

“I know; don't worry,” assured Mara, feeling totally worried herself. She hadn't told them anything about her visit to the doctor nor the diminishing reliability of her vertigo.

Battery called Pixie, who seemed to come running out of thin air. She climbed on Battery's shoulder. In the cottage, Dr. Akub passed Mara the file. She tucked it securely into her jacket. They drove back to the park. Mara hung upside down on the monkey bars and then let her legs drop. On cue, Dr. Akub and Battery grabbed her in midair and flipped her upright.

“Next week!” she called out as her vision blurred. She disappeared.