A Perfect Gentle Knight (18 page)

“Hark!” Sir Gareth whispered to Sir Perceval. “Do you hear something stirring outside the castle walls?” She imagined the two of them creeping out into the moonlight and encountering a rival knight trying to sneak in. They drew their swords and the knight bolted.

A part of her was observing, watching herself pretend. But at least some of the magic was still there.

14

Robin Hood and Little John

M
rs. Cooper invited the whole Bell family for Easter dinner. When Corrie asked Fa he said, “Please thank her, my dear, but you know we always go to the Hotel Vancouver for Easter.”

Corrie was relieved. She couldn't imagine mixing up her family and Meredith's. What would Fa and the Coopers talk about? They had nothing in common. Mr. Cooper had told her, when he heard what Fa taught, how boring he had found Shakespeare in school.

The Easter Bunny left his usual large basket of chocolate treats in the hall. Hamlet ate a foil-covered egg and threw it up on Harry's bed. Corrie felt queasy herself after nibbling both ears of her rabbit.

“If
only
you could come for dinner!” Meredith told her after church.

Now Corrie wished Fa had been more sociable. She vaguely remembered how the house used to hum with Fa and Mum's friends, friends who talked avidly about books and art, and whom she could hear laughing and dancing long after she had gone to bed. Fa had not invited anyone over since Mum's death. All he had were his books, his teaching, and his family.

Harry and Fa spent most of Easter dinner discussing the huge explosion that had happened near Vancouver the day before, when Ripple Rock had been blown up.

“It's the biggest non-atomic blast in history!” Harry said proudly.

“But why did they blow it up?” Juliet asked. Fa explained how the underwater mountain had caused many shipping accidents over the years.

Roz was patiently listening to Orly's riddles, and Sebastian was daydreaming as usual. Corrie poked at her overdone roast beef. She wondered what the Coopers were having.

During the Easter holidays Sebastian called a meeting of the Round Table every day. They met at Joyous Gard, which was now finished—a spacious fort of woven branches with a canvas roof and a blanket for a door. From the clearing you couldn't even tell it was there.

Building the fort had been fun, but now that it was done they had to sit for long periods in Joyous Gard while Sebastian read to them. Corrie tried to pay attention, but it was so hard to be shut out from the sun in this shadowy space. The others were also restless.

“Can't we have a sword fight?” Juliet asked.

“Maybe later, Master Jules. Now listen carefully to the story of how Sir Lancelot rescued Guinevere.”

No one could listen. It was as if Sebastian were reading to himself.

“What is wrong with all of you?” he scolded, when the younger ones started pinching each other. “You are not paying attention!”

Corrie saw how white his face was. “We are trying to, sire,” she said. “But it is a long time for the squire and the pages to sit still.”

Sebastian sighed. “Very well, you may all go and joust.” The others rushed out and Corrie tried to smile at her brother. But Sebastian had bent over the book again.

N
OW CORRIE
'
S ONLY SOLACE
was Meredith's friendship. After the holidays were over she started seeing Meredith on Saturdays as well as on weekdays, walking to the Coopers' house as soon as the Round Table meeting ended.

The first Saturday, Mrs. Cooper took Meredith and Corrie downtown to have lunch at the Georgia Hotel. They had vanilla milkshakes and two chocolate eclairs each. After lunch they went to the art gallery and gazed at paintings by Emily Carr. Corrie liked how the dark tree forms invited her right into the pictures.

Mrs. Cooper dropped them off at the Orpheum to see
Old Yeller
. When she picked them up afterwards, Meredith was in floods of tears.

“I will never,
ever
go to another movie again,” she sobbed. “That was
awful
! The poor, poor dog!”

“Darling, it was just a story!” said Mrs. Cooper. But Meredith cried all the way home in the car. “Why is she always like this with movies?” her mother asked Corrie. “
You
seem to have survived it. Can you explain to Meredith what's real and what isn't?”

Corrie shook her head. If only she could … especially to Sebastian.

T
HE NEXT SATURDAY
Corrie put on her blue dress, plus an old straw hat of Mum's she had found in a closet, because Meredith wanted to play “Anne of Green Gables.”

Meredith was Diana. She was obviously relishing her role, telling Corrie how glad she was that the two of them were “bosom friends.” She poured real tea into the cups and saucers she had set up on a table in the back yard. Paisley, enjoying the sunshine in his cage, practised saying “Hello there” endlessly. Meredith picked up the sugar tongs. “One or two lumps?” she asked in a mincing voice

“Two, please,” muttered Corrie. She couldn't get involved in this stupid game. It was so boring—there was nothing to it. At least Mrs. Cooper's cookies were as delicious as usual. She brought them out more tea and complimented them on their hats. Then she told Meredith she and Mr. Cooper were going out for a few hours.

“Let's play another game now,” Corrie suggested.

Meredith looked disappointed. “Don't you want to keep having tea? I know, we could make some Kool-Aid and pretend it's raspberry cordial. Then I could get
drunk,
like Diana does in the book!”

“Can't we play Robin Hood?”

Meredith shrugged. “I guess so.” They put the tea things back in the kitchen and went upstairs to change. Meredith lent Corrie a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Corrie was worried. Why was Meredith suddenly so reluctant about playing Robin Hood? She had been totally absorbed when they had started this new game a few weeks ago. Corrie had given plenty of time to Meredith's silly tea; shouldn't she have a turn now?

Back in the yard, they tidied up the fort they had made behind the garage and picked up the bows they had made out of branches and string. They had glued Paisley's discarded feathers to the bamboo arrows; the tips were covered with points modelled out of Plasticine.

Corrie was Robin Hood. “Well, Little John, are you ready to track down the sheriff's men?” she asked.

To her relief, Meredith answered properly. “Yes, Robin. I think I saw some tracks under the greenwood tree.”

The sun beat down. “It's so
hot
—let's take off our tops!” suggested Meredith.

Corrie felt shy. But after Meredith had stripped off her T-shirt, she did the same. They glanced at each other. Corrie was flatter than Meredith, but both were starting to develop. At least neither was ready for a bra yet, thought Corrie. Only one girl in their class, Sharon, had a bra—she had boasted about it for a whole day.

Corrie slung a quiver over her shoulder and came out of the fort. It was delightful to feel the sun all over her bare top. She poked her friend. “John—can you hear voices? Let's spy on them.”

Clutching their bows, the outlaws crept up to the fence and peeked through knotholes at Meredith's neighbours. A woman was weeding with her back to them, and her teenaged son was talking to her. He was trying to persuade her to let him use the car.

“An arrow would go through here,” whispered Corrie. She fitted an arrow into her bow and poked it into the hole.

“You wouldn't
really
!” giggled Meredith.

“Of course not. But look how easy it would be.” Corrie drew the string as taut as she could and aimed the arrow at the head of the young man.

“I know this man, John. It's the sheriff of Nottingham himself! If I aim carefully I can finish him off, the dastard.”

“
Do
it, Robin! It would be a brave deed, and all the poor people would thank you for it.”

Corrie didn't mean to let her arrow go. She really didn't. But somehow, Meredith's words had fuzzed the line between what was real and what was pretending. And somehow the arrow flew through the hole.

There was a loud, horrible screech.

“Oh,
no
! Corrie, what have you
done
!”

Corrie sank to the ground, choking with fear. Had she killed him? Would she go to jail?

“What's going on here?” A very red and angry face appeared over the fence. “Do you realize you've just hit my cat?”

The girls stood up. “I'm awfully
s
-
sorry
, Mrs. Patrick,” stuttered Meredith. “It was just a game. Is Boodles all
right
?”

“I don't know yet—he's taken off into the bushes and Malcolm can't get him to come out.” The woman glared at them. “What do you think you're doing, Meredith Cooper, shooting arrows through fences? Are your parents home?”

“They're out,” whispered Meredith.

“Well, when they get back they are certainly going to hear about this. Running around half-naked, injuring poor little cats … You're a pair of hooligans!”

“We're really, really sorry,” gulped Corrie, but Mrs. Patrick had stomped off.

Corrie and Meredith ran into the house. Meredith put on a T-shirt and Corrie got into her dress again. Then they peeked from behind the curtains in Mr. and Mrs. Cooper's bedroom and tried to see if the cat was all right. Malcolm was still calling him, a tin of cat food in his hand. Finally a large ginger-and-white cat ambled out of the shrubs. Malcolm picked him up and went into the house.

“He looks okay,” said Corrie. “Oh, Meredith, what if I hurt him?” She felt like throwing up.

“But why did you let go of your
arrow
?” Meredith asked, her face ashen.

“I don't know,” said Corrie miserably. “You said do it and I just … I just did.”

“But you
know
I didn't mean to
really
shoot!”

“I know. But I … forgot, I guess.” Corrie hung her head.

Meredith sat beside her, patting her back awkwardly. She grimaced. “Mum and Dad are going to be
really
mad.”

They were sitting glumly in the kitchen drinking Kool-Aid when Meredith's parents arrived home.

“Why such long faces?” asked Mr. Cooper, chucking Meredith under the chin. Meredith couldn't answer. He kissed the top of her head and took out the garbage. Then the phone rang.

Corrie and Meredith stared at the floor while Mrs. Cooper listened to the angry voice coming out of the receiver. Her pretty face grew more and more astonished. “They
what
? Is he all right? Yes, I agree … I'll talk to them … All right … Goodbye.”

She hung up the phone and called Meredith's father back into the kitchen. Then they all sat down. “That was Mrs. Patrick, girls,” she said quietly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Corrie and Meredith stumbled out their tale. By the time they finished Meredith was sobbing.

“Do you realize how dangerous it is to play with weapons?” Mr. Cooper said seriously. “You could have hit a person, not a cat!”

“Is the cat all right?” whispered Corrie.

“Yes, the cat is apparently fine,” said Meredith's mother, “but you are very lucky he is.”

“You are never to play that game again, Meredith and Corrie,” Mr. Cooper told them sternly. “I want to see you break all your bows and arrows, all right?”

They nodded.

“You're far too old to be playing boys' games anyhow,” said Mrs. Cooper. “What happened to your nice tea party? And Mrs. Patrick said you had taken off your T-shirts! You can't do that any more, you know—you're both growing into young ladies.”

They had to go next door and apologize. Mrs. Patrick hadn't softened. She stood in her doorway and ranted at them for an eternity while they stood there with hanging heads. Her brittle words were like sharp pebbles she was pouring over them.

As Corrie trudged home, Mrs. Cooper's soft words rankled just as much. “Young ladies”—yech! Silly teenagers, like Roz and Jennifer. She was never going to be like that!

But now a whole private game had been banned. It was all her fault, of course, but she still felt betrayed, as if the grown-ups had made them break far more than their bows and arrows.

15

“Out of His Wit”

A
s the long, slow spring grew greener and more fragrant, Corrie's world became grey. Meredith suddenly no longer wanted to pretend anything.

“I know we can't be Robin Hood and Little John, but why don't we pretend we're in the Narnia books?” argued Corrie. “Or we could play with the animals again.”

But Meredith only wanted to play catch, or roller skate or explore on their bikes. All of these things were fun, but they weren't magic. Meredith was just as nice a friend as ever—but she was just Meredith, not Sir Perceval or Raccy or Edward.

Home was worse. Something was wrong with Sebastian. Now he went straight to his room after school, appearing for meals and secluding himself again right after them. He spoke only when he was answering a question and then it was in a stifled voice, as if he could barely form the words. He didn't even call meetings of the Round Table.

Corrie tried to assemble everyone one Saturday morning, but the meeting seemed thin and boring without Sebastian there. “Because of Sir Lancelot's absence, we will cancel Round Table meetings for the time being,” she told them.

“But we'll have another one soon, right?” asked Harry anxiously.

Corrie tried to smile at him. “Of course we will. We're just taking a break until Sir Lancelot returns.”

Juliet looked confused. “But Sir Lancelot is here! He's in his room!”

“As a knight he's not here,” Corrie explained. “He's … he's off on a quest, on a quest for the Holy Grail. Let's pretend we're with him on the quest. That's why we won't meet in Camelot or Joyous Gard for a while.”