“I don’t know. It might spoil the spell. It’s been known to happen. Pieces of things getting stuck in the works and all that. All we can do is go ahead and hope.”
“Okay,” said David. “What do we do?”
“First, I think we should all go out where it all began. With the swinging statues, I mean. I’m sure if anything is going to happen, it will happen there.”
Leilah collected the goblets and put them gently in the large wooden wine vat the Wizard seemed to use as a sink. The Wizard put the golden nectar bottle back on the shelf amid dozens of other colorful bottles. Then David, with the statue in his hands, led the way up the twisting tunnel.
They pushed open the door to the park and the sunlight blinded them momentarily, so they didn’t see the owner of the voice that shouted, “Stop, thieves. Come back with my table and my statue.”
But they didn’t need to see to know who it was—Mr. Joseph Pickwell himself, stepping out of a taxi. He had guessed that the table would return to its original owner, and as soon as the policeman had let him go, he grabbed a taxi and hurried downtown once more.
“What do we do now?” wailed Leilah.
“I don’t know,” said the Wizard.
David started to shut the door.
At that moment Pickwell, umbrella in hand, reached the Arch and pushed open the door.
“Got you,” he cried as he grabbed for the statue in David’s hand.
The Chase
L EILAH SCREAMED. DAVID SLAMMED the door in Pickwell’s face and leaned his back against it. But he was too light to hold the door shut and it began to move open slowly as Pickwell pushed. Leilah and the Wizard rushed to help David.
“How long can you two keep it shut by yourselves?” asked the Wizard.
“Not much more than a minute,” said David.
“Well, give me the statue,” said the Wizard. “I’ll take it back to the warren and see if I can conjure up something. You hold Mr. Pickwell off as long as you can.” He took the statue and scurried away in the darkness as fast as an old mole in its tunnel.
David and Leilah struggled with the door but it kept inching inward. They could hear Pickwell’s heavy breathing on the other side and an occasional murmur. “Thieves. Ingrates. Beatniks.
“Tell you what,” David whispered to Leilah. “When I say three, we’ll jump aside. Maybe he’ll be leaning so hard, he’ll fall on his face. At least that’s what always happens in the movies. Then we’ll run ahead and try to trip him up at the fork. Don’t forget the first time we came how we felt off balance in the tunnel. Well, Pickleface will probably feel that way, too.”
“All right,” Leilah whispered back. “I’m ready when you say so.”
David took a deep breath. “Here goes,” he said. “One… two… three!”
They jumped back and started to run. From the noise and grunts and mutters they heard as they raced away, David had guessed right. Pickwell had been pushing so hard that when the door opened suddenly, he had been caught off guard and had fallen through. Trying to break his fall with his umbrella, Pickwell fell on the handle and broke it instead, knocking himself out of breath. It was just enough time to give David and Leilah a good head start down the tunnel.
They arrived quite quickly at the fork and started down the path toward the warren.
“Wait a minute,” said Leilah. “We’ll lead him right to the statue and the table this way. Let’s switch signs so that he won’t think of going to the warren at all.” And with that, she reached up on tiptoe to try to take the sign down. She was scarcely an inch too short. But she couldn’t reach the sign. Then David tried. But he and Leilah were the same height.
“I’ll give you a boost up,” said David. “But hurry.”
He knelt on all fours, and Leilah clambered up on his back. Teetering slightly, she took down the WARREN sign. Then they brought it over to the right-hand branch. David knelt down again and Leilah scrambled up on his back.
“Okay,” said David. “What do we do?”
“First, I think we should all go out where it all began. With the swinging statues, I mean. I’m sure if anything is going to happen, it will happen there.”
Leilah collected the goblets and put them gently in the large wooden wine vat the Wizard seemed to use as a sink. The Wizard put the golden nectar bottle back on the shelf amid dozens of other colorful bottles. Then David, with the statue in his hands, led the way up the twisting tunnel.
They pushed open the door to the park and the sunlight blinded them momentarily, so they didn’t see the owner of the voice that shouted, “Stop, thieves. Come back with my table and my statue.”
But they didn’t need to see to know who it was—Mr. Joseph Pickwell himself, stepping out of a taxi. He had guessed that the table would return to its original owner, and as soon as the policeman had let him go, he grabbed a taxi and hurried downtown once more.
“What do we do now?” wailed Leilah.
“I don’t know,” said the Wizard.
David started to shut the door.
At that moment Pickwell, umbrella in hand, reached the Arch and pushed open the door.
“Got you,” he cried as he grabbed for the statue in David’s hand.
The Chase
L EILAH SCREAMED. DAVID SLAMMED the door in Pickwell’s face and leaned his back against it. But he was too light to hold the door shut and it began to move open slowly as Pickwell pushed. Leilah and the Wizard rushed to help David.
“How long can you two keep it shut by yourselves?” asked the Wizard.
“Not much more than a minute,” said David.
“Well, give me the statue,” said the Wizard. “I’ll take it back to the warren and see if I can conjure up something. You hold Mr. Pickwell off as long as you can.” He took the statue and scurried away in the darkness as fast as an old mole in its tunnel.
David and Leilah struggled with the door but it kept inching inward. They could hear Pickwell’s heavy breathing on the other side and an occasional murmur. “Thieves. Ingrates. Beatniks.
“Tell you what,” David whispered to Leilah. “When I say three, we’ll jump aside. Maybe he’ll be leaning so hard, he’ll fall on his face. At least that’s what always happens in the movies. Then we’ll run ahead and try to trip him up at the fork. Don’t forget the first time we came how we felt off balance in the tunnel. Well, Pickleface will probably feel that way, too.”
“All right,” Leilah whispered back. “I’m ready when you say so.”
David took a deep breath. “Here goes,” he said. “One… two… three!”
They jumped back and started to run. From the noise and grunts and mutters they heard as they raced away, David had guessed right. Pickwell had been pushing so hard that when the door opened suddenly, he had been caught off guard and had fallen through. Trying to break his fall with his umbrella, Pickwell fell on the handle and broke it instead, knocking himself out of breath. It was just enough time to give David and Leilah a good head start down the tunnel.
They arrived quite quickly at the fork and started down the path toward the warren.
“Wait a minute,” said Leilah. “We’ll lead him right to the statue and the table this way. Let’s switch signs so that he won’t think of going to the warren at all.” And with that, she reached up on tiptoe to try to take the sign down. She was scarcely an inch too short. But she couldn’t reach the sign. Then David tried. But he and Leilah were the same height.
“I’ll give you a boost up,” said David. “But hurry.”
He knelt on all fours, and Leilah clambered up on his back. Teetering slightly, she took down the WARREN sign. Then they brought it over to the right-hand branch. David knelt down again and Leilah scrambled up on his back.
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