“David!” The others were all wandering around the store, checking out the shelves filled with spools of thread, yarn, and knitting and crochet needles. She ran right to her boys, who were admiring cable-knit sweaters in bright colors, and gave them hugs. “What happened? Where did you go? What did I tell you about running off?”
“Mooom!” David grumbled, “we're fine. I can take care of Adam. Where were you?”
“I was helping the White Queen...” She'd looked around, but Queen Helen had vanished. “Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. What matters is, we really need to jump the next square, before things get any weirder.”
“What is it,” Arlene the sheep said, “that you want to buy?”
Orson leaned over the counter. “I thought I saw tea tins on the shelves, but they keep disappearing.” The Doormouse snored in a rocking chair, drooling slightly on a half-knitted sweater.
“We're just having a look around, Arlene,” Brett called over her shoulder.
“You can look in front of your or both sides, but not all around,” Arlene chuckled, “unless you have eyes in the back of your head!”
David smirked. “Are you sure you don't, Mom? How do you always know when we haven't cleaned our rooms or are reading comic books with the flashlight on?”
“That's called mother's intuition, kiddo. I know you boys.” Brett squinted at the shelves. She kept trying to reach for a bright thing that sometimes resembled a bottle of wine, sometimes a book of poetry, but it always seemed to be on the shelf above where she was looking for it. “Darn it, I can't get at it. It'll probably appear on the ceiling next!”
“Wow, look at her!” Jimmie pointed at Arlene, who had picked up her sweater. “Fourteen needles at once! How do you do it, lady?”
Arlene did indeed have fourteen knitting needles clicking in her hooves. She looked more and more like a wooly porcupine wearing a heart-shaped necklace every minute. “Never mind that, Jimmie,” she yelled over the clickety-clack of her needles. “I've been ordered by the White King and Queen to take all of you to the White Castle in the next square.”
“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, ma'am. I mean, we need to get to the next square, but only if we can avoid the White Castle.” Brett frowned. “I got it on supreme authority from the White Queen herself...at least, I think it was her...that Dickie and I are in major danger if we go there. And I don't think it'll be from their sliders causing heartburn!”
Richard sighed. “I know that, Brett. I'm from Looking Glass Land, too. My mind also works backwards and forwards. I know the risks, but we haven't a choice. We must jump to the next square and continue our journey if you wish to become queen and end the Red King's reign over this land.”
“Very well then.” Arlene stood up, her fourteen needles clicking faster than ever. “Sir Richard, Brett, can you row?”
Sir Richard nodded. “Certainly, I can. It's good exercise for the arms and lungs.”
“I haven't rowed since I was a kid on the farm in Maine,” Brett grumbled. “and never on land. I suppose I could give it another try...”
“Good. Here.” Arlene shoved two knitting needles in her hand, then Richard's. “We'll need two boats to get us all there.”
“Boats?” Brett squawked. “But we're nowhere near...” Even as she complained, the needles dissolved into oars in her hands.
Suddenly, she found herself sitting on a rowboat on what seemed to be a lake circling a great, snowy white castle. Her sons, Marcia, and Bill were in the boat with her. The others were in Richard's boat as they floated under a wide wooden bridge.
“Where the heck are we?” Brett frowned as she tugged at the oars. “How did we get here?”
“Dad, we're home!” Mark yelped excitedly. “That's the White Castle over us!”
“Do you think we'll be able to get in the kitchen?” Gary made a face. “We haven't eaten since the croquet game, and I'm starved!”
The sheep made a face as she continued to knit, now with eighteen needles clacking away. “I wouldn't recommend that, son. The Red King has taken over the castle and its grounds. He sent his men out to hunt down you and your father, and anyone who might oppose him.”
“Hey, look at those!” Marcia leaned over to smell one of the sweet scented flowers growing on the banks alongside them. “Think I'd like to get a few for my hair.” Every time she tried to grab the brightest and reddest, it seemed to move away. Her curls and black dress were nearly in the water when she finally managed to snatch one. The moment she stuck her nose in it, she made a face. “Oh, figures. The scent has already faded.” Indeed, they melted away in her hands, even as she pulled her nose out.
“Swell.” David made a face. “Mom, can't you row faster? And not near the castle, either. I'm tired of being attacked by bad guys.”
“I'm trying, kiddo,” Brett heaved, “but these oars are stuck!” No matter how hard she pulled, she couldn't get her oar loose. It finally pulled in the wrong direction and slammed her in her chin, sending her headlong among the flowers Marcia tried to pick.
David laughed as they helped her back in the boat. “Graceful, Mom. Really smooth.”
Adam handed her his jacket. “Here. You're bigger than I am, but this might make you warmer. We don't have towels here.”
“Thanks, hon.” She made a face and looked down into the glassy green waters. “What was that?”
“Oh, just a crab,” Arlene explained over the clickety-clack of her now twenty needles. “They're all over this lake. You caught a rather nice little one.”
“That was a crab?” Bill gulped. “I hope it's not angry. We don't need crabs coming out and pinching us! I like being able to sit down!”
Arlene shrugged, even as her needles continued clacking. They finally pulled up near a narrow wooden door barely visible in the wall around the back of the castle. “Here we are! This is your stop. I'm afraid I can't join you. I really have to get back to my store.”
“What a trip!” Orson made a face as he managed to drag the Doormouse onto the muddy banks. “Remind me never to get boats like these.”
Sir Richard helped his sons out of the row boat. “Arlene,” he began as he turned to the sheep in the boat, “how can we ever thank...”
He spoke to empty air. The boats, the oars, the needles, and the sheep all disappeared. “Ok,” Brett muttered, “now this is getting spooky. Where did she go?”
“She probably went home.” Richard ushered her into the door. “Which my sons and I need to do. Or at least make sure we still have a home to return to.”
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