know that and I know that,” said David. “But the Wizard doesn’t.”
It seemed like a good plan on first thought. So without waiting to give it a second thought, David and Leilah opened the door to the Arch and went down the twisting tunnel toward the Wizard’s warren. They were really frightened, though neither would admit it. But when they reached the door to the warren, Leilah’s hands were shaking uncontrollably and David’s teeth were chattering a complicated rhythm. However, drawing in deep breaths at the same time, they pulled the door open and bravely walked in.
The Table’s Part
T HE WIZARD WAS SEATED in the chair that controlled the tapestry. He was concentrating on a scene. By the time they got to the tapestry, David and Leilah could see the picture clearly. It was Mr. Pickwell and he was arranging the statue of D. Dog on a new table.
“But that table—it…it’s…” began David.
The Wizard sighed. “It’s my table, all right. And I hope it’s in a good mood. If it does anything foolish, we’re all sunk.” And he took his pointed hat off and ran his fingers through his long white hair.
“But why does Old Pickleface have your table?” asked David.
The Wizard looked pleased. “I was hoping you’d ask that,” he said. “It’s part of my plan.”
“What plan?” asked David and Leilah fearfully.
“Why, my plan to rescue the statue, bring it here, and try to turn it back into a real live dog again.”
“You mean,” said David, smiling, “that you aren’t in cahoots with Pickwell? That you don’t turn animals into statues for a living and then sell them to rich people to keep in their gardens?”
“My dear child, whatever are you talking about?” asked the Wizard. He looked so genuinely puzzled that David and Leilah realized how foolish their thoughts had been.
“Never mind,” said Leilah. “Just tell us your plan.”
“Well,” the Wizard began, running his fingers through his beard and freeing a butterfly that had become entangled there, “I saw what happened to you through the tapestry. And when I realized how long it would take you to walk home, I knew I had to do what I could on my own. But I also knew that I didn’t dare trust the magic. So I telephoned Mr. Pickwell from the pay phone in the park and said I was interested in selling my table to him if he was still interested in buying it. He harrumphed a bit, but when I said cheap he agreed to my one stipulation. That was that he himself come down immediately and pick it up. That way, you see, I knew he would be out of his store and so could not sell the statue before my plan went into action. The only difficult thing was to persuade the table to go along with the whole scheme. But I managed to get its ball away from it, and so it was forced to agree. Of course, it kicked me once during the scramble.” The Wizard paused to lift his robe up until his knee was showing. He had an enormous black-and-blue-and-green-and-yellow mark on his shin. “But if my plan works, it was worth it.”
“What is your plan?” asked David.
At that moment, Leilah, who had been watching the tapestry out of the corner of her eye, cried, “Look!”
David and Leilah moved closer to the tapestry. They saw Pickwell talking to a customer in his store, his back to the table. The table was calmly scratching its drawer handle with a front leg.
“Oh, you promised…” said the Wizard.
David and Leilah and the Wizard looked away, counted to sixty, then looked back again at the new picture framed by the floral border. All in all, they watched almost an hour until the drama was played out.
Pickwell was haggling with a customer on the price of one of his “priceless possessions”—an unbreakable lamp base made from the tusks of a rogue elephant. Indian, of course. They settled at last upon $72.97, when a rattling made them turn around. The table had shifted its weight to a back leg, and the statue of D. Dog had slipped a little to the
It seemed like a good plan on first thought. So without waiting to give it a second thought, David and Leilah opened the door to the Arch and went down the twisting tunnel toward the Wizard’s warren. They were really frightened, though neither would admit it. But when they reached the door to the warren, Leilah’s hands were shaking uncontrollably and David’s teeth were chattering a complicated rhythm. However, drawing in deep breaths at the same time, they pulled the door open and bravely walked in.
The Table’s Part
T HE WIZARD WAS SEATED in the chair that controlled the tapestry. He was concentrating on a scene. By the time they got to the tapestry, David and Leilah could see the picture clearly. It was Mr. Pickwell and he was arranging the statue of D. Dog on a new table.
“But that table—it…it’s…” began David.
The Wizard sighed. “It’s my table, all right. And I hope it’s in a good mood. If it does anything foolish, we’re all sunk.” And he took his pointed hat off and ran his fingers through his long white hair.
“But why does Old Pickleface have your table?” asked David.
The Wizard looked pleased. “I was hoping you’d ask that,” he said. “It’s part of my plan.”
“What plan?” asked David and Leilah fearfully.
“Why, my plan to rescue the statue, bring it here, and try to turn it back into a real live dog again.”
“You mean,” said David, smiling, “that you aren’t in cahoots with Pickwell? That you don’t turn animals into statues for a living and then sell them to rich people to keep in their gardens?”
“My dear child, whatever are you talking about?” asked the Wizard. He looked so genuinely puzzled that David and Leilah realized how foolish their thoughts had been.
“Never mind,” said Leilah. “Just tell us your plan.”
“Well,” the Wizard began, running his fingers through his beard and freeing a butterfly that had become entangled there, “I saw what happened to you through the tapestry. And when I realized how long it would take you to walk home, I knew I had to do what I could on my own. But I also knew that I didn’t dare trust the magic. So I telephoned Mr. Pickwell from the pay phone in the park and said I was interested in selling my table to him if he was still interested in buying it. He harrumphed a bit, but when I said cheap he agreed to my one stipulation. That was that he himself come down immediately and pick it up. That way, you see, I knew he would be out of his store and so could not sell the statue before my plan went into action. The only difficult thing was to persuade the table to go along with the whole scheme. But I managed to get its ball away from it, and so it was forced to agree. Of course, it kicked me once during the scramble.” The Wizard paused to lift his robe up until his knee was showing. He had an enormous black-and-blue-and-green-and-yellow mark on his shin. “But if my plan works, it was worth it.”
“What is your plan?” asked David.
At that moment, Leilah, who had been watching the tapestry out of the corner of her eye, cried, “Look!”
David and Leilah moved closer to the tapestry. They saw Pickwell talking to a customer in his store, his back to the table. The table was calmly scratching its drawer handle with a front leg.
“Oh, you promised…” said the Wizard.
David and Leilah and the Wizard looked away, counted to sixty, then looked back again at the new picture framed by the floral border. All in all, they watched almost an hour until the drama was played out.
Pickwell was haggling with a customer on the price of one of his “priceless possessions”—an unbreakable lamp base made from the tusks of a rogue elephant. Indian, of course. They settled at last upon $72.97, when a rattling made them turn around. The table had shifted its weight to a back leg, and the statue of D. Dog had slipped a little to the
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