Great Dimpole Oak by Janet Taylor Lisle

Author:Janet Taylor Lisle [Lisle, Janet Taylor]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-4532-7182-7
Publisher: Open Road
Published: 2012-12-13T23:12:00+00:00

5

MR. GLOVER WAS RIGHT. THE MORNING that rose over Dimpole that day was clear, blue and perfectly beautiful. Anyone would have agreed, even someone who wasn’t in love with a gorgeous, talented, lavender-scented teacher named Shirley Hand.

The storm had vanished and there was no sign of how it had raged across the valley. Or rather, there seemed to be no sign while the light remained weak. But when the sun’s full rays struck the land, one difference could be plainly seen. The Dimpole Oak was stripped of leaves. The last of its crop had blown off in the wind. The tree’s great arms mounted bare and black against the brightening sky.

“Holy cow. Look at the oak,” said Dexter Drake on his stomach in the field below the tree. He handed the binoculars to Howlie.

“Not a leaf left on it,” Howlie said. “It looks sort of sad or embarrassed standing out there with nothing on, don’t you think?”

Dexter snorted. “There’s nothing sad about that oak. If you ask me, it’s got an evil streak in it. You should have seen it last night waving its arms around and creaking. I had the strangest feeling it was after me for some reason. Even now, it looks kind of horrible, like a black hand stuck down in the ground.”

“You’re weird,” said Howlie.

“You know what? I bet there are diamonds buried under the tree,” Dexter went on. “There’s probably a lot of other stuff, too. But nobody will ever find anything because the tree wants to have it for itself. It’s sitting up there on top of everything keeping watch, and anyone who comes too close gets the treatment.”

“What treatment?” asked Howlie.

“The scare treatment. You think I’m kidding but you weren’t there last night. The whole tree came alive.”

“You’re beginning to sound exactly like the farmer,” said Howlie. “Next you’ll be telling me there’s human blood in its branches.”

“There is,” said Dexter. “And human sweat and human tears. The farmer is one hundred per cent on target. This oak is on the look-out for human parts. It’s standing there waiting to get its hands on them.”

“Well, maybe it got all of Bulldog Calhoun at once,” said Howlie, bringing the conversation back to business. “I don’t see any sign of him.”

Dexter took up the binoculars and surveyed the area.

“Something else is funny,” he said. “There have been lights on upstairs in the farmer’s house since before we got here.”

“He probably gets up early,” Howlie said.

Dexter shrugged. “It seems strange for him to have all the lights on so early in the morning. And why hasn’t he turned them off by now? The sun is pouring through his windows.”

Dexter peered through the glasses again.

“I can’t see any movement in there,” he said.

“Maybe he’s watching TV.”

“Howlie?” said Dexter. He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I know you’re going to kill me for this.” He raised a finger to his forehead and shot himself. “I don’t want you to think I’m running out on our fight-to-the-death plan.

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