Babes In WENNLand, Part 6

Lisa could hear Mr. Barnaby on the factory floor when they got downstairs. “But my sweet Miss Blue,” he purred, “I could provide you with every luxury and comfort. You'd have an office of your own with a view of the Parched Mountains and all the time to write real stories, not greeting cards. You'd wear nothing but the finest gowns of silk and satin, with jewels entwined in those comely dark curls.”

Mr. Eldridge chuckled and the kids snorted. Mr. Barnaby was still brushing bits of paper, old peanut shells, wood shavings, and unraveled fabric off his expensive black suit. He was trying to look suave, but he really looked rather silly. His suit had blotches of green and blue paint smeared across the sleeves and elbows.

“Mr. Barnaby,” said Betty as she looked up from her clipboard, “I really don't have the time for this. I'm not going to the Christmas Festival with you tomorrow, and I'm certainly not interested in marrying you. I don't love you.”

Mr. Barnaby chuckled as he took her arm and pulled her close to him. “I suppose it's that arrogant pig thief Scott Piper you're interested in. I can provide you with a castle in Spain, a villa in France, and the largest empire in Toyland. What can he give you?” She tried to push him away, but he pulled her closer.

“A lot more than you can.” Scott Piper ambled over to them. He yanked Betty away from Mr. Barnaby. “Is this fellow bothering you, Miss Blue?”

“Oh, I'm not bothering her.” Mr. Barnaby glared at them as Scott held Betty close. “May I remind you, Miss Blue, that the mortgage on your mother's shoe is due tomorrow? Unless you can come up with that money, you, your mother, that old goat who runs this place, Piper, and your entire family will be thrown out onto the streets!”

“I won't let that happen.” Scott stepped in front of her. “We'll get that order for Santa out by tomorrow, whether you and Mother Goose like it or not. It'll be more than enough to pay the mortgage, with some leftover.”

Mr. Barnaby sniffed. “I suppose you'll put that some leftover into such worthwhile endeavors as hiring so many sponsors for your line of cards, they start looking more like catalogs, or making the quiz games for children so difficult, no child could complete them.”

“Those were good ideas!” Scott protested. “They just needed a tweak or two.”

Betty rolled her eyes. “I can't believe we even tried them. The sponsors demanded so many changes to the cards, there was no room left for just saying 'Merry Christmas.' And the quiz games flopped because the kids got frustrated, and the whole thing felt like a fraud.”

Mr. Barnaby edged closer to Betty, turning back to her. “Certainly, you'd prefer someone with my wealth and status over a half-gypsy former pig thief.”

“No, I wouldn't.” Betty shook her head. “Scott's ideas may be outlandish, but at least they show he cares about this factory. You'd just close it down and put everyone out of work.”

“Oh, but not you, my sweet. I'd certainly find a place for you. Perhaps, in my boudoir...” He took her hand and kissed it. She yanked it away.

“I want no part of you or your bedroom,” Betty said angrily, “or anything else!”

Scott pushed Betty behind him, one fist clenched. “I think it's time for you to leave.”

Barnaby reached for his cane. “Get out of my way, you half-breed wastrel.” He narrowed his eyes. “Or I'll show you what happens when someone defies me.”

“The soldiers!” Lisa took one of the soldier's hands and lead him to the trio. Half the factory had already stopped to watch the little drama unfolding. Even C.J hung over his controls, his eyes wide and filled with interest.

“Yeah!” added Alan. “Come on, officers! You're gonna be a big help now!”

Mr. Eldridge lead them right to Pruitt Barnaby. They got on either side of his and took his arms. “Eldridge, what is this all about?” Mr. Barnaby looked annoyed...and maybe a little bit scared. The soldiers were much taller than he was, and even wider. “I demand that these oversized tin cans unhand me this instant!”

“You're not being nice to my workers.” Mr. Eldridge pointed to the door. “Officers, please see Mr. Barnaby to his carriage.”

“I'll get you for this Eldridge,” he glared at them, “and your little children, too.” He looked at Scott. “And you, Mr. Piper. You'll especially pay for this humiliation.”

Scott chuckled. “I'm still not scared, Barnaby”

“You will be.” The two toy soldiers picked him up and bodily carried Barnaby out, with him protesting loudly the entire time.

“Well,” said Scott with his usual cheeky grin, “we solved that problem.”

Betty frowned. “I wouldn't be surprised if he tried again. He's after this factory for a reason.”

“So we'll kick him out again.” Scott chuckled. “Piece of cake!”

Mr. Eldridge shook his head. “I agree with Betty. Barnaby isn't one to give up easily. We'll have to find a way to make sure he knows we don't want to sell.”

“We'll work on it tomorrow.” Scott turned to Betty as a whistle echoed through the factory. “End of the day, Miss Roberts.” He got a little closer. “Want to go on a date? We could go get a slice of mincemeat pie from Simple Simon, maybe go for a walk in the park...”

Betty looked like she wanted to say 'yes,' but she finally pulled away. “Scott, you can walk me home, but I don't have the time to go out, with you or anyone. I need to get started on the designs for our spring and summer holiday cards. They're due in a few weeks.”

He smiled. “That's all right.” She started towards the exit with the other workers, but Scott kept up with her. Mr. Eldridge followed with the children. Scott finally took her hand as they made their way through the crush of workers punching out. He pulled her close to him. “How about tomorrow? We could go to the Christmas Festival together.”

“Well...” Betty would never admit it, but when she looked into those huge brown eyes of his, she just about turned into mush. “...all right.”

“That's close enough for me.” Scott kissed her forehead. “We're only putting in a half-day at work tomorrow, so everyone can get ready for the Festival in the evening. We'll go right to the Festival together.” He held up her brown low-heeled shoe. “Oh, and you lost this again.” Betty just made a face as he handed it to her.

“Grandpa, can we go to the Christmas Festival?” Alan asked as they made their way to the exit.

Lisa frowned. “Alan, what about Mother? She has to be at the station by now. She's probably worried sick about us!”

Mr. Eldridge patted Lisa's shoulder. “Oh, it'll be all right, Lisa. Days and nights here are different than they are in Pittsburgh. I'll get you home before your mother even realizes you were gone.”

“Well...” Lisa wasn't sure she liked the idea. Mother did worry about them a lot, and there were times when she wondered if Grandpa were really all there. She did want to go to the Christmas Festival, though. “What happens at the Christmas Festival, Grandpa?”

“Oh, it's a lot of fun. It's the biggest party of the year in Toyland Town. Nursery Rhyme and fairy tale characters come from miles around to take part in it. There's games and races and food booths and a show with dances and singing.”

Scott joined them as they made their way past the gates and down the teeming rock candy streets. “The Toy Factory sponsors the show. The last number is always a singer with the Toyland musicians and choir, and that's what announces the arrival of Santa.”

Betty sighed sadly. “Mother Goose performed the last number of the Christmas Festival Show, until her husband died last year. Now she won't sing for anyone, anywhere.”

Lisa frowned. “Aw, poor Mother Goose! She must miss her husband very much. I know I miss Father. Even if Mother does say he was always in trouble with the law and we're better off without him.”

“I wish I'd known Father better.” Alan kicked at a rock. “He left when I was really little. Mother said he was lookin'...lookinG for work, and he never came back.”

Scott shook his head. “I'm sorry about that, kids. That's really too bad.” He was talking to them, but was really looking at Betty. “Not everyone is like that. Some people will stay by your side no matter what. You just have to give them a chance.”

Betty smirked and looked at Scott. “And some people will make up so many stories and lies about themselves, you can't tell truth from fiction anymore.”

Scott just smirked back. “I only tell 'em when I need to.”

Alan looked up at Scott. “You're a half-gypsy?”

Lisa was confused about something Mr. Barnaby said in the factory. “What's a wastrel?”

Scott frowned. “Kids, I'm part of a gypsy clan. My father was a Toyland butcher. My mother was a gypsy. I was raised by Mama's tribe when my parents were killed by the trolls in the Forest of No Return.” He shrugged. “People like Pruitt Barnaby don't like me because I'm not one or the other. They think all gypsies are thieves and murderers.”

Alan's eyes were just getting wider. “The Forest of No Return?”

Mr. Eldridge shuddered and pointed at the dark woods beyond Toyland Town. “That's the Forest of No Return. It's a frightening place, filled with living trees that grab at you and trolls and monsters and giant spiders. Only the worst criminals are sent there. Those who go there never come back.”

Alan gulped and took Mr. Eldridge's hand. “I...I'm not afraid.”

“I'm not, either.” Lisa rolled her eyes. “It sounds like a lot of stories to me. There's no such thing as trolls.”

They finally arrived at the largest boot Lisa ever saw. It was so big, it actually had windows and a roof. “Here we are, home at last.” Mr. Eldridge headed for the door. “Scott and I rent rooms here. You can stay with us tonight. There's plenty of room.”

Scott sniffed at the air. “And I do believe the Widow Gertie Blue is making her famous chicken and carrot stew tonight! We're going to dine like kings!”

The Widow Gertie Blue turned out to be a tall older woman with red hair and a calico dress with a big striped apron. Lisa never saw so many kids around one table. Girls and boys ranging in ages from barely three to teenagers chattered about their day in school, told them what they wanted for Christmas, reached across the table, threw food, and fed carrots to the wiry little terrier under the table.

Lisa couldn't help noticing Scott barely touched his food. He was too busy watching Betty. She ran back and forth, bringing food to her siblings, wiping runny noses and separating fights. She lost her shoe twice, but she still somehow managed to be everywhere at once. Lisa saw the look in Scott's eyes. She saw it on Clark Gable or Nelson Eddy when they fell in love in the movies. Scott really, truly loved Betty. He certainly seemed nice enough. He was smart and funny and respectful of her grandpa. His ideas stopped Barnaby from doing anything really, really mean.

Lisa helped Betty do the dishes after dinner. Scott and Mr. Eldridge took the other children, including Alan, outside to run hoops and climb the sugar plum and candy apple trees. Gertie put away the leftovers. “Betty,” Lisa wondered, “why did you turn Scott down for a date? It's obvious you kind of like him.”

Betty was watching Scott out the window. He was shooting marbles with Alan and some of the boys on the rock candy sidewalk. “Hmm?”

Lisa grinned. “Come on, admit it. You like him! You looked like you were going to jump in his arms back at the factory when he asked you to the Christmas Festival.”

Betty blushed as she handed Lisa the last dish to dry. “Well, he did ask me nicely. It'll be a wonderful opportunity to talk about work and making toys.”

Lisa put the dish in wooden drying rack. “Is that the only reason you want to go?”

She sighed. “All right. I do...well, I like him. He's handsome, and charming, and funny, and smart. I just...” Her eyes became sad. “The last man I fell in love with was Victor Be Nimble. I thought he loved me, but he kept going on longer and longer journeys across the sea to deliver toys. On the last one a year ago, his ship was caught in a storm.” She looked very sad. “He was with Papa and Ben Gander. None of them were ever seen again.”

She pushed a stack of dishes into a cabinet. “Besides, Scott isn't trustworthy. He used to be a thief and a swindler. He was caught and put in jail for stealing a pig and trying to sell it. He says he knows everything about making toys, but I don't think he made a toy in his life before Tom Eldridge and Victor hired him.”

“Does that matter?” Lisa looked up at her. “You said he's doing really well now. Isn't that what counts?”

Scott was leading the kids inside. Lisa took the last pile of dishes from her. “Why don't you go talk to him? I could help your mom with the other kids. I'm used to it. I take care of Alan all the time.”

“Well...” Betty watched as Scott went back outside. “All right.” She smiled. “You know what? I will talk to him. He's...he's really not so bad. He was certainly helpful today with Barnaby.”

Lisa nodded. “That's right. And my brother likes him. Even if my brother likes everybody most of the time. Except Mr. Pruitt at the radio station, and Barnaby, and Ming the Merciless from Flash Gordon.”

Betty raised an eyebrow at the last name. “You certainly have strange rulers in your world.”

Lisa sighed and watched as Betty went outside. She went over to Scott, who was gathering the marbles in a purple cloth bag.

“Scott,” she started, “thank you for, uh, helping me with Barnaby today.”

He stood up and gave her that warm, cheeky smile. “You're welcome, Betty.” The smile turned down. “I wish that jerk would leave you alone. You're too good for someone like him. You deserve a real prince.”

She took his hand. “But I already have a prince. I have you.”

“You...” His big brown eyes glowed like the stars in the navy sky. “You...me? You like me?”

She nodded. “Even if you weren't a toymaker before, you've picked up making toys so quickly.”

Scott frowned. “How do you know I'm not a toymaker?”

She shook her head. “No real toymaker would come up with ideas like dolls that ate and swallowed like real babies or airplanes that fly on their own or six-foot toy soldiers. That's what makes you unique.”

Lisa was suddenly aware that every kid in the shoe was gathered around her, including Alan, leaning out the kitchen window. One girl in a frilly pink dress let out a sigh. “Isn't it romantic?”

“Do you think they'll get married?” asked a little boy in a blue suit.

“Is he gonna try to bite her?” added another boy, this one in bright red flannels.

Lisa waved her hands around them. “Shhh!” Scott was leading Betty into the small garden and sugar plum orchard next to the shoe. He picked a red and white striped rose and handed it to her.

“This is for you, Betty,” he said as they sat on a chocolate bench. “I know it's not as fancy as Barnaby could give you, but it's the best I can do at the moment. Your mother grows the finest peppermint roses in all of Toyland.”

She took a deep sniff. “Scott, it's beautiful. Peppermint roses are my favorite flowers.”

He put it in her ear. “Someday, we'll be the greatest toymaking team in all of Toyland. I'll bring you home to a beautiful cottage and garden of our own.”

She leaned against him. “Right now, all I want is to pay off the rent on Mother's shoe.” She bit her lip. “I wish Papa and Victor were here. Papa always knew what to do. When he died, it was like part of the sun vanished.”

Scott held her close, stroking her hair. “We'll figure out a way to save the factory and the Shoe together. The two of us and Mr. Eldridge and your mother. As long as we can get Santa's order through, we'll be ok.”

“Scott...” Betty started, looking up into his velvety brown eyes.

“Yeah...” He said softly, running his finger over the soft petals of the rose.

Their lips had just met when Lisa realized that just about every kid in the shoe – including Alan – was nearly falling over her and out the window. She made a face at them. “It isn't nice to eavesdrop, you know!” She finally closed the curtains on the kitchen window and herded the others back into the shoe.

Lisa was changing into a lacy white nightgown she'd borrowed from Mary Quite Contrary when she saw Betty come back inside. She held the red and white striped rose, her eyes dreamy. She sighed. “Oh Mr. Eldridge,” she said, “I want to write a million valentines tonight!”

“You look like you could, with that happy expression on your face.” Mr. Eldridge beamed as he tucked Alan in the cot. “Well, tell me all about it. When's the wedding?”

“Wedding?” Betty laughed. “We haven't gotten that far yet. He's taking me to the Christmas Festival tomorrow, and then...then we'll see.”

“Where's Scott?” Lisa asked as she finished brushing her blond hair.

“He said he had something to do before he went to bed,” Betty explained.

“I like Scott,” Alan piped up from his cot. “He's a great marbles shooter. He knows all the tricks. He taught me how to get all the marbles out of the circle with just three shots!”

Lisa looked at her heavy knitted blanket. “Well, he is nice. I just hope he stays for a while.”

“I do, too. He told me he didn't want to leave, but he is part-gypsy. They're wanderers.” Betty shook her head. “But he's here now, and that's what counts.”

Alan snuggled in his cot. “I miss Mother,” he sniffled. “I wish she was here. She always sings us a lullaby, then reads us a story.”

“I miss her, too.” Lisa climbed into her worn woolen cot. “I like it here, but I miss home.”

“We'll take you back tomorrow, after the Christmas Festival.” Mr. Eldridge kissed each of his grandchildren's foreheads. “There. You now have my protection. No creature anywhere will be able to harm you.”

Lisa yawned. “Could you sing for us, Grandpa?”

“Now children, you know I'm not much of a singer.” Mr. Eldridge ruffled Alan's hair. “The last time I tried to sing for your mother, she informed me that I sounded like a donkey braying. I don't know how a donkey got in me, but that's what she said.”

Betty took a seat and settled next to the two cots. “I'll sing for you. I sing for my siblings all the time.”

Lisa thought Betty was a wonderful singer. She sang them a really lovely song about waiting for Christmas and wishes coming true. It was so pretty.

“You're a good singer, Miss Betty,” Lisa murmured as she settled into sleep. Alan was already long gone. “You should be...on the radio....”

“Thank you.” Lisa felt Grandpa stroke her head, then Alan's. Betty pulled her blanket up to her chin. “Night, children.”

“Good night, my little ones,” Mr. Eldridge added.

“Night, Grandpa.” The older man and the young greeting card writer finally left.

Lisa couldn't sleep that night. She tried as hard as she could. The cot wasn't very comfortable. It was made of wool between two candy cane poles. The wool itched. She tossed and turned. She wasn't used to so many people making noise in one place, either. Grandpa snored loudly. He sounded like a foghorn on the Monongahela River. Some of the kids talked in their sleep. Others made whistling sounds or begged for a drink of water in the middle of the night.

Lisa finally got tired of trying to sleep and went to the window. She had a really nice view of the gardens and the other houses. She could even see part of the factory from where they were. The shadowy dense greens of the Forest of No Return could be seen beyond them. She pulled the blanket around her. They're just stories, she told herself. There's no such thing as trolls and giant spiders!

That was when she thought she saw something moving in the garden. She ducked down next to the window far enough that she didn't think anyone could see her. She couldn't really see much, but she heard everything.

The first voice was Mr. Barnaby's. “Did you steal them?”

“Oh yeah, Mr. B,” said a sneaky, nasal, somewhat familiar voice. “We got 'em, all right.” The man was very gaunt and very tall. He wore a sailor's uniform that was much too big for him. “Gonzorgo is at the factory now.”

“And they're safely hidden?”

She could hear the smirk in the man's voice. “Oh yeah, Mr. B. We stashed 'em where no one will find 'em. When Rodrigo and Gonzorgo do a dirty deed, you can count on it being done.”

“I hope so.” Barnaby pulled something thick, meaty, and red out of a sack. “You'll have to sneak into the factory with the evidence. They certainly won't permit me to enter again after today.”

Evidence? Evidence of what? Lisa yawned, trying not to make it too loud. She didn't want them to hear her.

“Sure, Mr. B.” He took the sack. “You got the money?”

Mr. Barnaby handed the tall man another sack. “Of course. Here's a thousand gold chocolate coins, just like I promised you.”

He tucked the sack into a burlap bag by his side. “Thank you, Mr. B. Splendid doing business with ya.”

Lisa wanted to hear more, but her eyelids were getting heavy. She yawned again. I have to warn Mr. Piper, was her last thought as she crawled into the cot and fell into a deep sleep. He may be in serious trouble.