Babes In WENNLand, Part 4

The Toyland Toy Factory was even more amazing than Toyland itself. The brick walls were made out of heavy cake and seemed to stretch for miles. Inside, workers, men and women in peasant outfits covered by aprons and tool belts like Grandpa's, worked on long lines of every toy the children had ever see. A young man with big brown eyes and light brown hair worked on a button panel next to a series of the largest gears the children ever saw. They were the size of their entire apartment building back in Pittsburgh!

Every worker was doing something. A huge goose stuffed fluffy cotton into stuffed animals. A pig put the roofs on doll houses. A lady in a yellow dress alternated between attaching cords to bouncing spiders and taking spoonfuls of a mushy-looking white and yellow concoction in a bowl. A boy in a blue jumpsuit tested horns to make sure they w

“Mr. Toymaker! There you are! I'm so glad you've finally arrived. I have so many ideas to discuss with you, sir.” A small, stocky man with silver-streaked ebony hair under his faded navy-blue cap bounded over to them. Lisa swore he looked exactly like Mr. Sherwood. The plump, pink cheeks were streaked with grime, but the grin was still full of mischief, and the big brown eyes twinkled just as merrily. He was dressed like most of the other male workers, in a grease-stained pale blue tunic covered by a battered black apron filled with tools, patched navy leggings, and a tattered navy jacket with worn elbows. Lisa could see a wide red sash under the apron.

A young woman was with him. She wore a simple blue peasant dress with a green and gold cloth bodice. Her apron was blue, too. Her dark brown curls were held back with a green and blue striped ribbon. “Mr. Toymaker!” she exclaimed. In her hurry, one of her brown shoes came off. She grabbed it and jammed it back on her foot as she continued. “Oh, thank goodness!”

“Scott, Betty, I'm so glad to see you!” Mr. Eldridge nodded at the children. “Alan, Lisa, this is Scott Piper, my assistant and the second-in-command at the Toy Factory, and Betty Blue, the holiday card writer. He designs many of our best toys and helps keep everything running like clockwork. She writes and prints all the cards we sell for Christmas. Scott and Betty, this is Alan and Lisa Herbert, my grandchildren.”

Scott shook Alan's hand, then bowed for Lisa. “Hello there! Welcome to our fabulous factory, the greatest toy-making facility anywhere! Any grandchildren of our Toymaker are friends of mine.”

Betty smiled. “It's so nice to meet you! We rarely have children visit our factory.”

Scott looked at a large wooden cuckoo clock on the wall. “Oh, would you look at the time? We'll give you kids a tour, after your grandfather and I get through a little meeting.”

“You sent me a message about a meeting,” Mr. Eldridge explained. “Well, who are we meeting with? Do I know them?” Mr. Eldridge beamed hopefully. “Are they bringing treats?”

Scott made a face as he lead them down a long hall decorated with old brownish pictures of people working in the factory. “More than likely, they're bringing an eviction notice. Mr. Barnaby wants to talk to us about selling the factory again.”

“Oh, him.” Mr. Eldridge shook his head. “I wish he'd get it through his head that just because he owns the rest of Toyland doesn't mean he has to own this part, too.”

Betty sighed. “I do, too. He's been after the Factory for years.”

“How can someone own a whole town?” Lisa asked. She didn't like the sound of this Mr. Barnaby when Maple said he'd throw her out of her job, and she liked him even less now.

“Mr. Barnaby is the richest man in Toyland,” Scott told them. “He owns almost every business there is – the sheep yards, the grocery, the old theater, the newspaper, the bakery, the bank, the flower shop. You name it, and he has his finger in all or part of it...except for the Factory. The Factory is owned by the Toymaker, Mother Gloria Goose, and by old Jack, who died a few months ago. It's the House That Jack and Ben built. Mother Goose inherited it from her husband, Ben Gander, who also passed away several months ago. They were lost at sea with my good friend, Victor Be Nimble.”

Betty looked sad. “Victor Be Nimble was my friend, too. He was a good, noble man. I miss him so much. He, Ben, and Jack were taking toys across the sea when their ship went down.”

“Ben Gander and Jack Hubbard were my dearest friends,” Mr. Eldridge said firmly. “I would never sell this place. It would be like selling their memory.”

“I know you wouldn't,” Scott reminded him. “I'm not so sure about Mother Goose. No one has seen her since Father Gander died. It's like she vanished. And we don't know who inherits Jack's part.” The dark-haired foreman rolled his eyes. “That Barnaby is just an old blowhard. He'd never be able to shut us down. Santa wouldn't let him. And anyway, he doesn't scare me! I'll bet I could take him with with one hand behind my back!”

Lisa's eyes widened when their Grandfather opened a door at the end of the hall. The man who sat on the soft chair made of fruitcake was that mean Mr. Pruitt! He was dressed in a fancy black suit with shiny buttons and carried a gold-topped black cane. A black silk top hat was tilted over his perfectly slicked-back dark hair, and his black cravat was pinned with a jewel that looked like a dark star. His tiny, piggy eyes gazed at Scott over his sagging jowls. “You could take whom with one hand tied behind your back, Mr. Piper?” he asked with barely concealed amusement.

Scott looked embarrassed. “Oh, no one.” He and Mr. Eldridge pulled up fruitcake chairs on the other side of the desk. Lisa tugged Alan to two chairs by a wide window that overlooked the gates of the factory.

“You already know why I'm here,” Mr. Barnaby began, “so I might as well come to the point. This factory is old-fashioned and unnecessary. Most children today are busy with all those newfangled devices like film and radio and are growing up at a much faster rate. They have no need for frivolous, useless toys.”

He stood, walking over to the two men and the young woman...but his eyes were entirely on Scott. “Thanks in part to Mr. Piper's efforts, you've now risen to the break-even point, where you're neither a helpful deduction, nor a tidy profit. My recommendation to Mother Goose is that we close the Factory, gain the tax benefits, and build something more useful in its place.”

“But we're holding our own against larger toy companies,” Scott insisted.

“And we don't have their big budgets,” Betty reminded him, “or their huge teams of workers.”

“Don't sell it, Grandpa!” Alan yelled. “He's a mean old man!”

“Alan!” Lisa grabbed his arm. “Mr. Barnaby,” she said timidly, “Alan and Mr. Piper are right. You can't close the factory. What about the people and animals who work here? What about all the little kids who won't get toys?”

Mr. Barnaby glared at them. “Small children should keep out of things that don't concern them. What are you doing in a factory, anyway?”

“They're my grandchildren, Mr. Barnaby,” Mr. Eldridge insisted, “and while I still own part of this factory, they can visit whenever they like!”

Mr. Barnaby stood, tossing his cane from hand to hand. “You're lucky Mother Goose agrees with the children. She wants me to make one last-ditch effort to turn this factory around.” He smirked. “Fortunately, I have a few ideas of my own about how to make toys.”

“You never owned a toy in your life,” grumbled Scott. “Your idea of a toy is an adding machine.”

“You hit the nail on the head.” Mr. Barnaby stood. “From now on, this is the list of toys you will be making. Children have far more need of things to expand their minds than wasteful dolls and figures and cars.”

Scott took the paper. Mr. Eldridge and Miss Betty read over his shoulder. “Adding machines, boot scrapers, picture frames, walking canes...” Scott looked up from the list. “Mr. Barnaby, we can't give these things to Santa! They aren't for children!”

“Neither is this factory.” He sniffed again. “Starting today, there will be no more toys made in Toyland.”

“I won't let you do this!” Mr. Eldridge made a face. “I still own part of this factory, too!””

Scott frowned. “We need to talk this over, Mr. Barnaby. Could you give us an hour?”

“I'll be keeping an eye on your workers. Making sure they do what they're supposed to do.” Mr. Barnaby stood...and as he walked by Betty, he looked her over, like he was looking over a piece of beef. Scott grabbed her arm as he finally left.

“I don't believe this!” Betty groaned.

“Yeah, and neither does he.” Scott growled. “He knows Santa's order is the big money that keeps us going through the rest of the year. If the kids aren't happy with the toys we're making, Santa will cancel his order...and that will cancel us. If Mother Goose won't let him close us down directly, he'll find another way to do it.”

“We're not going to stop making toys!” Mr. Eldridge added.

“Yeah!” Alan shouted. “That Mr. Barnaby is just a bully.”

“Yes, he is.” Scott gathered the other four, including the two children, close to him. “We need to come up with a brilliant plan that will distract him while the rest of the workers continue to make the toys for Santa's order.”

“Too bad there can't be two factories,” Lisa complained. “One for Mr. Barnaby, and one for the rest of Toyland.”

Betty's brown eyes lit up like sparklers. “Lisa, that's a wonderful idea!”

Lisa was just confused. “It is?”

“Yes!” She pulled the circle closer. “Now listen to me...”