nodded. “And after we pick up the mail and stop into the
Trading Post to find out what I owe on last month’s bil , if the
three of us are stil stuck together like glue I guess you’l
have no choice but to fol ow me into the Drunken Moose for
a gril ed cheese sandwich.”
“Can’t we have a cimminin bun instead?” Peter asked.
Peg immediately turned her scowl back on. “Considering
there were a dozen buns on our porch this morning, I would
say you’ve had your month’s quota.”
“How come your shotgun was on the porch, too?” Jacob
asked. “It’s usual y in your closet with the rifle.”
“I had loaned it to the bun fairy, and she returned it with
the buns.”
“What’s the bun fairy need a shotgun for?” Peter asked.
Peg stood up, hunched over, and started unbuckling
them out of their booster seats—that were looking more
tired than her van. So she made an executive decision to
get new ones with her very first check from Duncan. “Wel ,
you know, fairies are very sneaky and secretive, so this one
never real y told me why she needed the shotgun.”
“I bet she needed it to shoot cimminins,” Peter said,
jumping out of his seat. “To put in her buns.”
“Cinnamon is a spice—a plant,” Peg explained, turning
to grab her purse before sliding open the passenger side
door. She stepped out and straightened, looking eye level
at the boys. “And last I knew, you don’t need to shoot a
plant to eat it.”
“I think she borrowed it ’cause everyone wants them
buns, and someone might try to steal them instead of going
to the Moose,” Jacob declared with great authority.
Peter frowned. “Then why she’d give it back if she’s gotta
protect the buns?”
Peg swung Jacob out of the van with a laugh,
deciding she’d lied herself into a corner. “Forget the
shotgun,” she said, swinging Peter out next. “And focus on
today’s chal enge.”
She slid the door closed and headed along the side of
the road to the old railroad bed without bothering to lock the
van—because honestly, if someone was desperate enough
to steal the heap of scrap, they were welcome to it. Oh
yeah, the second thing she was buying was new
transportation, she decided as she started down the old rail
bed the Grange ladies had turned into a nature trail ten
years ago.
“Mom, who are al them people?” Peter asked as
he skipped up to her left side, Jacob fal ing into step on her
right. “What are they doing here?”
“They’re tourists who have come to check out the new
Bottomless Sea. And you know why that’s such a big
deal?”
“Because we got whales and sharks and jel yfish now?”
Peter asked.
“Wel , partly. But mostly because Bottomless isn’t
supposed to be a sea because it’s so far from the ocean.”
“The earthquake made it salty and tidy,” Jacob declared
with great authority. “And it pushed them two mountains
apart and made that ford flood our pit.”
“That’s right, the earthquake created the fiord.” She
stopped and stepped back to have both boys face her.
“And you two,” she said, “witnessed history being made.”
“What’s history?” Peter asked.
Peg laughed and started walking again. “History is what
happened yesterday and last year and a hundred years
ago. History is in the past, today is the present, and tomorrow is the future. And forty years from now you’l be
able to tel your children and grandchildren that you felt the
earth tremble and saw Bottomless go from being a
freshwater lake to an inland sea. What happened is cal ed
an historic event, and you were privileged to witness it.”
“But al these people missed it,” Peter said, pointing at
the old train trestle that crossed the Spel bound Stream just
below the fal s. “So why are they here now?”
“So they can take pictures and go home and tel
everyone they saw the new Bottomless Sea, because there
isn’t another place like this in the whole wide world.”
“There ain’t no other seas?” Peter asked.
Peg gave him a nudge. “Don’t say ain’t; it’s not polite.
Yes, there are other seas, but none that were formed in
recent history, and none that have a massive underground
river that al ow whales to travel hundreds of miles inland.”
“Wow, that means Spel bound Fal s is unic,” Peter said
with his own authority.
“Yes, it’s definitely unique,” she corrected with a laugh.
“Peg!”
She stopped and looked across the road to see her
neighbor, Evan Dearborn, waving at her. He looked both
ways and bolted between oncoming traffic. Wel , he bolted
at a grandfatherly speed.
“Hey there, Pete and Repeat,” he said when he reached
them, nodding at one boy then the other without knowing
which was which. He looked at Peg. “Me and Carl been
meaning to mosey over to find out what’s going on at your
place.”
“I’m expanding my pit to sel gravel to the outfit building a
road up the mountain. Or haven’t you heard that Olivia and
her new husband are building a resort?”
“We heard.” Evan’s eyes suddenly widened in alarm.
“They ain’t setting that road up behind ourland, are they?”
He glanced at the boys, then stepped toward her, and it
was al Peg could do not to lean away when she got a
strong whiff of eau de skunk. “I mean, jeeze-louise, Peg,” he
whispered, “we ain’t exactly sure where our back boundary
line is, and we might of … it’s possible we …” He sighed,
thankful y stepping back as he scratched his beard. “I
guess we’re gonna have to forget about expanding our
garden this year.” He suddenly grinned. “Wel , good for you
then, girl. A road up that mountain’s gonna take a passel of
gravel, so you’l be rol ing in dough.”
“Why would Mom want to rol in dough?” Peter asked.
“It’s sticky.”
Evan looked startled, then reached out and ruffled
Peter’s hair with a chuckle. “Wel , Repeat, I guess she
wouldn’t wanna then, would she?”
“I’m Peter.”
“I knowed that. I was just checking if you did.” He looked
at Peg again. “I thought that horseback of yours ran in our
direction.”
“It apparently runs north, up the hil side.”
“Wel , okay then,” he said as he started backing away.
“If’n you hear that they’re gonna set the road anywhere near
our back border, you give us a heads-up, okay?”
“I’ve been led to understand they’re going in off the main
road about a mile up from us, so I think you’re clear.”
“Good enough,” he said with a nod. He stopped just in
time to avoid backing into traffic. “Hey, what’n was al that
commotion over to your place last night? Me and Carl
snuck through the woods to see, but it was over by the time
we got there.”
Peg shrugged. “Just some idiots looking for free diesel
fuel, but Mr. MacKeage, the owner of the equipment, sent
them away empty-handed.”
He stepped back over to the path, looking both ways to
see who was nearby. “I heared talk that some folks ain’t
happy about that resort being built. It appears they’re
forming some sort of committee to try and stop it.”
“Locals, or people from away?” Peg asked.
Evan snorted. “Out-of-staters who own land up here and
think they know what’s good for us locals is more like it.” He
stepped closer. “I heared they’re gonna try to get some big
nature group to back them,” he said in a whisper, “by
claiming it’s gonna ruin the wilderness.” He looked around