“What is it, Garland?” A girl stepped out the front door. She seemed to be between the two boys in age, but the most startling aspect of her appearance was her apron. She was wearing Ernest’s superhero apron and Ernest wasn’t. The girl gazed out over the prairie, directly at our children.
Our children stared back at her.
“She isn’t old,” said Ernest.
“We’re in the past, Ernest,” said Abigail.
“We’re time travelling. We’re really time travelling!” said Ernest, realizing it for the first time.
“Everything E. Nesbit wrote was true,” said Jacob.
“Maybe not everything, Jacob,” said Abigail with a slightly superior tone in her voice. Those who knew her would tell you Abigail was a little uneasy with what was going on.
“Ohmygosh, the apple sauce is running over.” Aline hurried back into the house.
“Raymond, you go saddle up. Aline, we’ll be back by supper,” said the older boy.
“Garland . . .” Aline’s voice called from inside.
“Afternoon, sister,” said Garland, walking away from the house. “The men have work to do. Father’ll have our hides if any more of the herd goes missing.” He disappeared into the barn with his brother.
“Let’s go with the cowboys, Jacob,” suggested Ernest.
“How are we going to do that? We can’t run behind the horses, and we can’t get on the horses without them knowing it. And we’re invisible,” said Jacob.
“We’ll figure it out. Come on.” Ernest grabbed his brother’s hand to pull him toward the barn.
“Oh, no!” The children heard a wail from inside the house.
“What’s wrong with Mema?” said Abigail.
“I want to fight coyotes. Hurry up, you guys!” cried Ernest.
“They’re not going to fight the coyotes, Ernest. They’re going to move the cattle,” said Jacob.
“Right. Well, let’s do that then,” proposed Ernest, tugging at Jacob persistently.
Jacob shook himself free. “I don’t know about you, but this being invisible makes me a little nervous. Not to mention going into the past. We don’t know what’s happened or how it works or anything.”
“I’m going with the cowboys,” announced Ernest.
“You’re wearing your pyjamas,” said Abigail.
“I’m invisible,” said Ernest.
“Maybe not for long. Who knows?” said Jacob.
“What’s the point of time travelling if we can’t do something fun?” asked Ernest. “They’re going to ride away.”
Garland and Raymond had led their horses out of the barn, ready to mount and ride off.
Ernest started after them. Abigail grabbed him.
“I want danger and excitement,” Ernest declared, trying to pull away from his sister. “I want to see some cows!”
“Stop!” cried Abigail, holding fast to her brother. “We’ve never even been to the corner store to buy candy without a grown-up. And here we are in the middle of Texas a long time in the past—we don’t know how long ago—and you want to go fight coyotes and they’re not going to fight coyotes and I don’t hardly know who those people are and the answer is NO!”
“Grrr,” growled Ernest with his fiercest animal growl.
“At least we know Mema,” said Abigail, in an effort to calm down.
“Here they come,” announced Jacob as Raymond and Garland rode right at them.
Neither the horses nor the cowboys saw the children standing in front of them. Abigail, Jacob and Ernest jumped aside.
“I sure wish sister would learn to cook,” Raymond was saying.
“Yup,” agreed Garland.
Just as Garland’s horse passed by, Ernest lunged for a stirrup, but Abigail held him back. The cowboys rode off in silence.
“Grrr,” repeated Ernest.
“Stop it,” said Abigail.
“The most exciting event in my life turns out to be the most boring. I want to go with the cowboys,” Ernest insisted.
“Maybe we can have a different kind of adventure,” suggested Abigail, without being sure.
“A sissy adventure,” sighed Ernest.
“I can’t believe that the first time we leave the house without Mommy and Daddy, we leave in our pyjamas,” moaned Abigail.
“At least nobody can see us,” said Jacob, realizing the advantage of invisibility.
“Shhh!” shushed Abigail. “Listen.”
“I don’t hear anything,” said Jacob. “It’s quieter even than Muskoka.”
“Imagine, coming on an adventure and discovering quiet,” said Ernest, unhappily. But Ernest began to concentrate upon the silence: he couldn’t help it.
The Toronto children had never heard quiet that deep or long, from horizon to horizon. It felt uncomfortable at first, to be in the midst of all that silence, and then it started to feel marvellous and free, like swimming in a lake when the water is no longer cold. Abigail, Jacob and Ernest just had to lie down in the wispy prairie grass and watch the clouds, flat-bottomed and puffy on the top, languidly float by. They didn’t think about the clouds or the stillness or where they were; they didn’t think at all. It was divine.
And then, on the wind, as if it was an act of the imagination, a note was heard, followed by another and another and another, until it was clear that there was music somewhere, somewhere in the distance.
The children lay in the grass and listened. The tunes were unfamiliar, and the haunting, airy sound was unlike any sound they’d ever heard before.
They heard the screen door gently close, followed by the briefest sound of footsteps, then nothing but the music.
When Ernest sat up, he saw the girl, Aline, his great-grandmother, walk across the grassy field and stop. She stood still to listen to the music on the breeze.
Silently, all three rose and started walking toward Aline. She held her head tilted up against the breeze, her eyes closed to let the air and the music wash over her. When she opened her eyes, Abigail felt she could see a deep longing in Aline’s face, a yearning for sounds beyond the horizon. Then the moment ended.
Aline turned her head and caught sight of figures approaching her. She let out a cry.
Abigail, Jacob and Ernest stopped moving and let out cries (or rather gasps) of their own; they hadn’t expected to be seen.
Abigail was closest to Aline, and the girls couldn’t help but stare at one another. They were about the same age and the same height, with the same clear and lively eyes, though Aline’s were velvet brown.
“Mother’s gonna kill me for comin’ out without a bonnet,” said Aline, starting to fidget with her apron. The apron was a gooey mess of applesauce and what looked like soapsuds.
“Who are you?” she asked.
No one knew what to say. There was a silence. Finally Abigail spoke: “My brothers and I are travelling.”