The Treasure Cave: sea tales of Tiptoes Lightly (21 page)

BOOK: The Treasure Cave: sea tales of Tiptoes Lightly
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“Yes, yes,
that is true—but I saved these trees,” said the grove spirit, reading her mind.
“This grove is my heart and all that’s left of me. I filled the dreams of the
logging men until they forgot about money and saw the beauty of my oldest ones.
They saved them at the last moment.”

“They are
magnificent,” said Tiptoes. “They really are.”

“Now I have lots
of children trees beyond this grove,” said the grove spirit, “but they are
never allowed to grow up. People forget that a tree farm is not a forest. A
forest has spirit.”

Tiptoes
nodded. She had seen the logging as she flew up the train tracks. She gazed at
the Spirit of the Grove and saw again just how old and ancient he was. He must
have seen so much over the years.

“How old are
you?” she asked.

The grove
spirit chuckled. “Far, far older than these trees,” he said. “For me, the life
of an old tree is but a passing breeze. But I think you know how old I am,
Little Spirit, don’t you?”

Tiptoes
smiled.

“Oh-ho-ho,
ho-ho,” chuckled the grove spirit. “You can’t fool me. You look so young, but
if I put a wrinkle in your face for every year you have lived you would be a
wrinkled old lady.”

“Please don’t
do that,” laughed Tiptoes. “Don’t even think about it! I just wanted to hear
your tale.”

“My tale! My
tale! I have far too many years on me to tell my whole tale,” said the Spirit
of the Grove. “But I will tell you one tale to take home with you to your oak
tree growing far away by Running River. It goes like this.”

Chapter
55

Sequoia’s
Tale

Long, long
ago,” said the Spirit of the Grove, “I came as a seed from the sun. I ripened
and grew inside the fruit of the fourth season. I grew quickly, too quickly; I
was over-ripe. I never saw anything wrong with being so big and ripe, but I was
too ripe to become one of the human-people-beings. I flew from the sun and
hovered in the air. I was there when my big brother touched the great water. I
was there when my big sister wove a silver ladder to the moon.

That is how
old I am, Little One. I floated above the earth. I looked to the Sun Spirit
shining above me. I gazed down at Asherah the Earth Mother. I loved them both,
but I did not know who I was. I was large and dreamy; a cloud of bright mist in
the air. I felt many things, I felt them deeply, but I knew nothing for I was
almost asleep.

“O, Mother
Earth! O, Great Sun Spirit!” my heart cried out at last. “Who am I? Where do I
belong?”

“Look about,”
said the Sun Spirit. “Some are like you.”

“Look about,”
said Asherah the Earth Mother. “I have many children and some are just like
you.”

I looked
about. I searched the world, but saw nothing. I was too dreamy. I was a dream
dreaming itself.

“O, Asherah!
O, Great Sun Spirit!” I cried, “I have looked and found nothing.”

“You are
looking too far,” they replied. “They lie all around you. Look for
yourself—find your Self in them.”

I looked
again, and I saw. I saw the trees rooted in Mother Asherah and living in the
light of the Sun Spirit. Then I knew. I knew! For the first time I knew who I
was for I saw myself as in a mirror. I hovered over the trees. I wandered far
and wide over the forests. The earth looked so different then; all shrouded in
mist and much warmer. I came to this valley. The mountains were lower, just
hills, but already the river was singing her song. I saw the grandfathers of
the great-great-grandfathers of these trees. I saw them and loved them. I
reached down and touched them. I have been here since.

One day Mother
Asherah came walking through this grove. Oh, Little One, she is beautiful. She
walked through my trees touching them.

“You have
found yourself,” the Earth Mother said to me.

“Yes,” I
replied, “I have found myself … but I have no name.”

“I will call
you Sequoia,” said Asherah. “Sequoia the Ever-Living.”

“And that is
my name,” said the Spirit of the Grove. “I put my name into the dreams of the
human-people-beings and since that time that is what they call my trees.”

The Spirit of
the Grove became quiet and Tiptoes waited.

“That is all,”
said the Spirit of the Grove after a while. “That is enough tale for today.”

Then Sequoia
the Ever-Living chuckled. “But if you come back, Little One, I’ll tell you
another tale much longer than this—one so long you will definitely be old and
wrinkled by the time I am finished.”

Chapter
56

Low
Spring Tide

The Skunk
Train rattled and clacked its way down the Noyo valley and out of the forest.
It crossed over to Pudding Creek and slowly whistled its way into town. Tom was
two times lucky and got to travel in the cab again. When they arrived at the
station he climbed down and thanked the driver. Everyone piled into the cars
and by the time they got back to the cottage it was almost four o’clock.

“The spring
tide will be at its lowest soon,” said Farmer John. “Let’s go see.”

They hiked to
the bluffs and climbed down to the beach. The tide was really far out—even
Castle Jagged was standing high and dry, with seaweed hanging limply around its
sides like a wet skirt. Tom and June and Veronica wandered around the sea
stacks, gently touching the closed anemones clinging to the rock. They lifted
the seaweed to see what was underneath and saw dozens of greeny-brown crabs
scuttling away and hiding in the cracks.

After a while
they joined Gramma and Johnny Top. They were hunkered down and gazing into a
rock pool. All sorts of things were happening inside: periwinkles were
wandering, limpets were clinging, mussels were huddling together, and a purple
sea urchin was shouting, ‘Don’t step on me! Don’t step on me!’

“Look, Johnny
Top, there’s a hermit crab,” said Gramma, pointing.

“Where?
Where?” said Johnny Top. He couldn’t see it.

Gramma reached
into the water and picked up a seashell. Tucked inside was a tiny crab. All
they could see were his tucked-in claws. She held the shell still. Half a
minute later the crab stuck out his head and looked around.

“A crab,”
shouted Johnny Top. “He lives in a shell,” and he reached out and touched it.
Quick as a wink the crab disappeared into his house.

Gramma held
her hand flat over the water. Out came the crab again. He looked around to make
sure he was safe, then scuttled off her hand. He fell with a plop into the
water and walked away over the bottom of the pool.

They searched
some more. They saw greenish sea anemones looking like flowers, an orange
starfish crossing the bottom all by itself, and darting from cover to cover was
a little fish with a tiny tail, thick body, and pointy nose. He had lots of spiky
fins.

“What’s that
funny fish doing?” asked Johnny Top.

The fish kept
darting out from his hiding place and whizzing round and round the starfish. It
looked like they were having an argument.

Aunt Sally and
the two dads joined them. They laughed at the fish buzzing back and forth over
the starfish.

“That’s a
grunt sculpin,” said Aunt Sally. “They’re feisty little fish.”

Tom stood up
and looked out over the ocean. The sun was already behind a wall of dark clouds
on the horizon. Suddenly lightning flashed into the sea.

“Look, there’s
lightening,” he said, and everyone gazed seaward.

A moment later
a deep rumble rolled across the waters. More lightning flickered and flashed
within the clouds and the wind began to gust.

“A storm is
brewing,” said Uncle Finn.

“The full moon
is rising,” said Aunt Sally, turning and facing the east.

“Spring tide
comes high before midnight,” said Farmer John. “It’s going to be a wild night.”

They returned
to the beach and the children played in the battleship as the light faded away
and the clouds marched closer. Lightning flashed again and again and the deep
roar of thunder mixed with the pounding of the surf. The flag on the battleship
crackled and flapped as the wind picked up.

“Can we come
and play here tomorrow?” asked Tom.

“Sorry,” said
Farmer John. “We have to clean the cottage and pack our stuff. We’ll only have
time for a quick visit before we go home.”

Tom and June
looked at each other. They had wanted to visit the cave one last time. They
climbed out of the ship and rushed up the bluff. Veronica and Johnny Top
decided to follow.

“Where are you
guys going?” called Aunt Sally.

“To the Treasure Cave,” said June Berry.

“What cave?”
asked Aunt Sally. “I don’t see one.”

“Up here,”
said Tom, getting to the entrance first.

They waited as
Aunt Sally climbed the bluff and made her way along the narrow pathway to the
entrance. She looked at the small opening and the fresh earth tumbled about.

“This doesn’t
look safe,” she said.

“It’s fine,”
said Tom. “We’ve been inside before.”

Aunt Sally
shook her head. “No, it doesn’t look safe to me. Sorry, you can’t go in.”

Tom and June
didn’t argue. Their aunt hardly ever said no, but when she did that was the end
of the story.

Chapter
57

Iluna
and the King of the Sea

Johnny Top was
in bed and everyone else was sitting around the fire. It crackled and flamed as
Tom fed it pine cones from the grove behind the cottage. Outside, the wind
moaned and thunder rattled the windows.

“Who’s going
to stay awake tonight?” asked Gramma with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m sure
Tiptoes is going to tell us one of her tales.”

Uncle Finn
laughed. “I’ll stay awake for sure,” he said. “I can stay awake all night if I
want to.”

Aunt Sally
smiled, but said nothing.

“I’ve seen
Tiptoes Lightly a few times,” said Farmer John, “so I know she’s real. But I
don’t know why I keep dozing off. It must be all the fresh air and exercise.”

Tom put the
last of the pine cones on the fire and called Tiptoes:

“Tiptoes
Lightly,

Fairy
bright,

Tell
us a tale

On this stormy night!”

“Please,” said
Tiptoes, appearing on the hearth.

“Please,” said
Tom, grinning.

“Please!
Please! Please!” said June and Veronica and Gramma.

Tiptoes gave a
curtsy. “This last tale,” she said, “is about the King of the Sea and Silver
Iluna.”

A blast of
wind shook the cottage and howled in the eves. The children startled and Lucy
jumped up and looked about the room, but the grown-ups didn’t move an inch. All
of them, except Gramma, were asleep.

“Looks like
those sleepy heads are going to miss another story,” said Gramma.

“And the
storm,” said Tom. He loved storms—the wilder the better.

They turned
back to Tiptoes. June Berry pulled a cushion from the sofa and placed it on the
hearth rug.

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