A Tale Magnolious by Suzanne Nelson

Author:Suzanne Nelson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2019-06-17T16:00:00+00:00

On the lookout for savage elephant!! Escaped from Gusto and Gallant Circus caravan. Whereabouts currently unknown. Extremely dangerous. Last seen with runaway orphan. Girl approx. age ten or eleven, average height, brown hair, abnormally green eyes. If seen, telegraph Percival Gallant in Kickapoo, Kansas, immediately. Substantial reward if found.

Neezer’s stomach gave a raucous growl. “Miz Turngiddy, what was the name of that girl Windle brought into the store a couple weeks past?”

Miz Turngiddy flipped through the pages of her notepad. “Nitty Luce, sir.”

“Her eyes were curious, weren’t they?”

Miz Turngiddy swallowed. “Greener than grass.”

Neezer’s smile widened. “Miz Turngiddy, a telegram must be sent. To Percival Gallant.”

“Yes, sir.” Despite Miz Turngiddy’s hand shaking, she took up her notepad. “What should it say?”

Neezer dictated. Miz Turngiddy’s pen trembled, but still did Neezer’s bidding. When they were finished, Neezer’s stomach gave a fretful rumble. Miz Turngiddy turned for the door.

“Before you go,” Neezer said. “From what you saw of Windle’s crop, do you think a duster could destroy it?”

She paused over this, recalling the sturdiness of those green stalks. “I suppose if the duster were bad enough, the crop could be destroyed. But it would have to be a very strong duster.”

“Mmmm.” Neezer nodded. “I see. The worst yet.” His nose struck up “Oh! It’s a Lovely War!” “Well done, Miz Turngiddy. Well done.” He patted his stomach. “I’m ravenous. In fact, eggplant sounds delightful.”

“Right away, sir.” Miz Turngiddy scurried from the office, the wheels and cogs of her brain whirring. Given the fact that elephants in this part of the world were extremely rare, if not altogether unheard of, she calculated the probability of the Gusto and Gallant elephant and the Homes elephant being one and the same as 98.256 percent. Still, this statistic was not the reason for her mind’s pinwheeling.

Miz Turngiddy’s thoughts, instead, were consumed with how she might feel roaming free as a runaway elephant. Doing as she liked, saying what she liked. The elephant she’d seen at the Homes farm hadn’t struck her as savage. On the contrary, that elephant had struck her as peacefully contented.

As Miz Turngiddy contemplated the nature of contentment, and how she might obtain it, Neezer was also contemplating. While the whumping serenaded his ears, Neezer rose from his chair, slid a large brass key from the top drawer of his desk, and walked to his locked workshop door. He slid the key into the lock, then slipped through the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

On a drafting table just inside the door sat a miniature model of Fortune’s Bluff. Now Neezer leaned over it. With a feverish gleam in his eyes, he inspected the matchbox-sized buildings of Main Street, the smaller homes on the surrounding farms. His nose began whistling the William Tell Overture. Then he reached his fingers down and lifted the little white house from Windle’s farm. He held it to his face, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger as he might a pesky fly.

He pinched until the house splintered into toothpicks.

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