It was a bright, spring day, with the robins singing and the crows cawing elegantly, and flowers blanketed the fields like candy crushed under an unhygienic automobile tire. Everything was going perfectly that day, and Anne sat gleefully looking out the train window on her way to Charlottetown.
"Oh, it's always just so absolutely beautiful taking the train the Charlottetown!" Anne said. "Every time I go, I get this felicitous rush of happiness!"
"So do I!" Diana said, agreeing in fewer words.
They both gazed out the window dreamily.
Suddenly, Anne exclaimed, "Look, Gilbert! Sheep! They must be ever so far away from home…"
Gilbert was accompanying them, partly to put Marilla and Mrs. Barry's minds at ease, but mostly because he had an intense, secret crush on Anne and wanted to spend some time with her. She wasn't completely aware of his extreme affection for her, though she did sense that he started hyperventilating whenever she told him he had dirt on his jacket.
They all stared out at the window. It appeared like all the sheep on Prince Edward Island were having some sort of convention. They were hanging out in little groups, and selling each other goodies made out of grass and dandelions. There was even some sort of stage set up, where a ewe was performing a concert of baas.
"That's weird," Diana said.
"I think it's beautiful," Anne said.
The train ride was fairly uneventful. The girls dared each other to eat a raw egg, but wouldn't take the dare themselves. Cool, right? Anyways, they arrived in Charlottetown around noon, and the sun beat down on their heads, but felt better compared to that stuffy train, so they didn't care. Aunt Josephine's chauffeur Lenny picked them up, and that was that.
When they arrived at Aunt Josephine's house, there was a delicious dinner set up for them. There was ocean pie with Waldorf salad and mashed beets, as well as couscous on a muffin. For dessert, there was an option of mashed Swede with brown sugar, or chocolate chocolate chip zucchini cake. Everyone chose the latter.
"Aunt Josephine," Anne said, "where's Cole?"
"Oh, he'll be here soon," Aunt Josephine said. "He's buying our tickets."
"Tickets?" Diana asked.
"Like, to the opera?" Anne asked. "Oh, how romantical! I've never been to the opera before, and always wanted to go!"
Gilbert chuckled to himself- he loved how Anne's mannerisms and ways of talking made his heart feel light like a dodo feather.
"No, not to the opera," Aunt Josephine said. "It's… um… hard to explain. I need the help of all you children, and it requires getting back on that train."
"Where are we going, Aunt Josephine?" Diana asked.
"Somewhere slightly far…"
"To another city?"
"No, to Quebec."
Everyone stared at Aunt Josephine, stunned.
"Well, there are cities in Quebec," Anne said, smiling gleefully, "so, technically Diana might still be right."
"Cities are repulsive means to create environmental damage," Aunt Josephine said. "No, we're going to a village called Grenouille. It's relatively small, but that is where I must get my work done."
There was more silence around the table.
"Do my parents know about this?" Diana asked.
"I may have told them you would be gone longer than they expected…" Aunt Josephine muttered.
Diana stared at her.
"All right, you found me out!" Aunt Josephine exclaimed. "I only implied, I didn't tell them outright!"
"I've always wanted to go to Quebec," Anne said. "Next to Saskatchewan, and the Lake of Shining Waters, it sounds like one of the most romantical places in the world."
Gilbert said, "What sort of work are you needing done, Miss Barry?"
"Oh, sugar pie, you can call me Aunt Josephine like the other children!" Aunt Josephine said. "But, to answer your question, I cannot tell you the nature of my work, only that it involves a great deal of stuff it can involve a great deal of."
Needless to say, everyone was a little confused.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," Jerry said. "It's been two months since my last confession."
"What is this sin, my child?" Father O'MacBergmann said from behind the screen. He eyed Jerry suspiciously, not approving of his long hair and his French nose.
Jerry started crying. He couldn't control his guilt, but also couldn't control his shame. He knew the priests at Saint Christopher the Wonderworker of Lyon-and-Assissi's Church in Charlottetown would gossip about what the parishioners would confess, but this was the only Catholic church Jerry's family could get two on a semi-semi-regular basis, so he had to deal with this kind of humiliation, albeit a minor humiliation.
"Father, you must promise not to tell anyone," Jerry said.
"I would never." Father O'MacBergmann giggled mischievously.
Jerry confessed, "I've fallen in love with a Protestant girl."
Father O'MacBergmann was silent for a moment, then said, "Is there more?"
"No," Jerry said.
"Wow… If there'd been more, this would have been the gossip of the year. Is this innocent crush all that's occurred so far? Has there been any kissing, or handholding?"
"There's been flirting."
"Ooh! What did you say?"
"I don't remember. I think I said something along the lines of, 'T'es la plus belle femme que j'ai vue dans tous le monde, ma chérie, oh ho ho!'"
Father O'MacBergmann thought a moment. This boy looked familiar.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Jerry."
The same name as the son of the church's most generous tither, William LeBoeuf-O'Flaigherty. If a man like him had a son with a crush on a Protestant girl, oh, the scandal it would cause!
"And, your last name?" the mischievous priest asked.
"Baynard," Jerry replied.
"F*ck," the priest cursed. "I was hoping you were… Nevermind. Say the Act of Contrition once, the Our Father give times, and fifty or so Hail Marys."
"How come we say Hail Marys more than Our Fathers?" Jerry asked. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"And go visit a dialect coach," Father O'MacBergmann said. "It's obvious that you're foreign!"
"I was born and raised here," Jerry said. "And so were my parents. Actually, this used to be a place called Acadia, before…"
"Yeah, I don't care. Scat!"
Jerry left the confessional, bumping into Father LeChat.
"Où étiez vous?!" he exclaimed. "Ce prêtre anglais est horrible!"
Father LeChat smiled sadly, and, patting Jerry on the head, said, "Oh, coucou Jerry, passer le temps avec Père O'MacBergmann est parti de la punition pour tes péchés."
After penance, Jerry left the church. He had plenty of errands to run, and was very unpleased that he hadn't been able to come to Charlottetown early.
"J'ai trop de choses pour faire aujourd'hui," he muttered. "Ah, ben. J'ai de temps pour déjeuner maintenant, mais qu'est-ce que Marilla m'a dit qu'elle voudrait? Comment peux-je oublier?!"
He was about to have a stress attack when he noticed three familiar faces.
"Anne!" he hollered, rushing down the church steps towards her.
"Jerry!" Anne smiled, reaching out to hug him.
Gilbert and Diana both felt pangs of jealousy (though, if you ask me, they're the ones who should get together [lol jk ; they're too chill to actually get any housework done together, so a marriage between them would be detrimental]).
"What are you doing in town?" Jerry asked.
"Diana and I wanted to pay a visit to Aunt Josephine," Anne said, "and we somehow got roped into an adventure!"
"Adventure?" Jerry asked. The last two times he'd been on an adventure, he'd ended up being beat up by those two lily-livered, yellow-toothed ragamuffins. "Anne, you should be careful."
"It's not going to be all that bad," Anne said. "We're going to Quebec."
Jerry's eyes opened wide. He'd always wanted to go to Quebec, ever since he learned about poutine. (He was very hungry at the moment, and so he associated Quebec with food).
"Can I please go with you?" he asked.
"But what about your family?" Gilbert asked, unhappy at the prospect of Jerry tagging along. "Don't they need your help, because they're…" He didn't want to say "poor", but he'd already implied that, and started to feel a bit bad about being so rude. But, he still tried to look resolute.
"Oh, it shouldn't be a problem!" Jerry said. "My lazy, good-for-nothing older brother Jean-Charles can just help out."
"But what about Marilla and Matthew?" Anne asked.
"Uh…" Jerry thought a moment. "They'll just have to do what they did before either of us came. They're strong and resolute."
"Oh, how heartless," Diana exclaimed, "and manly!"
"I know," Jerry said, winking at her. "I try."
"Well, let's be off to the train station, then," Anne said.
When they arrived at the train station, Aunt Josephine and Cole were already there, waiting for them.
"Aunt Josephine," Anne requested, "will it suffice if Jerry accompanies us?"
Aunt Josephine eyed Jerry suspiciously at first, but then she smiled and said, "Of course. Many hands make light work, as Mr. Bentley used to say."
"Who's Mr. Bentley?" Gilbert whispered to Anne.
"I don't know," Anne whispered back. "Aunt Josephine has ever so many friends."
"Something which secrets don't make," Aunt Josephine interrupted. "Now, off we go. Grenouille, here we come!"
Once they were all settled on the train, Anne said, "Jerry, this here is my friend, Cole. He's a sculptor."
"Really?" Jerry asked. "So, Cole, if you can sculpt things, could you please make some better statues for my church? The Severed Head of John the Baptist on a Plate just lacks some realism, and it's distracting the congregants."
"I can try to make a replacement," Cole said, "but I mostly just work with clay, now, and don't have the skills or the money to coat it in fake marble or melted copper."
The train started. Soon, they were on their way to their mysterious destination. Getting the train off Prince Edward Island proved to be dangerous, but all it had to do was drive over several unsuspecting ferries, and, once it was back on dry land, there was nothing to worry about.
"Oh, isn't the countryside so absolutely beautiful!" Anne said. "We shall call this place the Land of High Grass!"
"I think it's called New Brunswick," Gilbert said. "I wouldn't know, though, considering that medical knowledge is draining the rest of knowledge, including geography, out of my brain."
The children had no way of knowing how long it was before they arrived at the train station in Montreal. It felt like days, but they were refreshed afterwards as if it'd only been a few hours. Train rides through the countryside tend to have that affect on people.
Once at the station, they were met by a mysterious man in a carriage.
"Bonjour, Madame Barry," he said. "Monsieur Beurre is awaiting you."
"Good day, Morveux," Aunt Josephine said, getting into the carriage, followed by the children. "I see you're as healthy as ever."
"That's because I drink a glass of dirt-water every night," Morveux said. "I bet your chauffeur Lenny can't drive a carriage as effectively as I can."
"Well, he prefers regular water, so he gets no cerebral mineral help," Aunt Josephine said, situating herself into her seat.
The carriage drove on for a long time. It drove out of the city, and through some more countryside. It was dark outside by the time it reached Grenouille. They arrived at a two-story house with broken window shutters and some sort of plant hanging down from the roof.
Aunt Josephine and the children got out of the carriage and, following Morveux, went into the house. Standing in the middle of the parlor was a man in a bright pink smoking jacket and green pants.
"Good day, Josephine," he said. "It's been a while, soul sister."
"Children," Aunt Josephine said, "this here is my good friend, Monsieur Aaron Beurre. Aaron, this little dark-haired girl is my grandniece, Diana."
"Enchantée, monsieur," Diana said, curtseying.
Monsieur Beurre laughed loudly.
"No need to curtsy, my dear," he said. "I'm only considered high-class in this village because I wear this awesome jacket. Anyways, what are the names of the other children?"
The children introduced themselves.
Monsieur Beurre said to Anne, "You appear to be the leader of your friend group."
"We don't have a leader," Anne said. "We're friends."
"But you have the prophetic voice that inspires them," he said. "You seem like you're ahead by a century."
Anne didn't quite know how to take this complement. She just smiled, speechless for the first time in her life.
Everything else that night was small talk, dinner, more small talk, then everyone went to bed. Anne and Diana didn't mind sharing a bed, but the boys had a bit of a struggle, because throughout the night, one would roll over, causing another to fall flat on their face on the floor.
The next morning, at breakfast, the girls were smiling and happy, while the boys had panda eyes. Monsieur Beurre had prepared for everyone a large pot of oatmeal, served with raisins and butter, with toast on the side. Aunt Josephine said Grace, then everyone started eating.
"You should put some butter on your toast before dipping it in the oatmeal," Monsieur Beurre said to Gilbert.
"But there's already enough butter in the oatmeal," Gilbert said. "That's enough flavor for me, and…"
"But you're so skinny, as well! No, slather some butter on your toast, or you'll wither away."
"But butter is full of saturated fat. Also, I feel perfectly fine."
"Pish-poo! I put butter on everything! Just last night, I mixed butter in with my tobacco. It clogs my pipe, but the fumes are worth it."
Cole said, "You really should eat better, Gilbert. Anne told me in her last letter that you're only eating twice a day, breakfast being the meal you normally skip."
"Anne, you talk about me with your friends?" Gilbert asked.
Anne blushed a deep red, which made Gilbert blush a deep red. They started slurping at their oatmeal nervously.
"I normally just eat a biscuit or jam tartine for breakfast," Monsieur Beurre said, "but after seeing the sorry state of this boy, I decided it was best to encourage the splurge."
"If you want to maintain health, but have to skip a meal," Aunt Josephine said to Gilbert, "skip dinner. It's no use consuming so much energy right before bedtime."
"I always eat dinner," Cole said. "Am I eating too much?"
"You're a growing boy," Aunt Josephine said, spooning some more oatmeal into his bowl.
After eating, they followed Monsieur Beurre into the parlor.
"Now, children," Monsieur Beurre said, "the reason my good friend Josephine brought you all here to Grenouille is for a very important purpose. An evil has befallen Quebec, and my trusty sources say it is residing here in this very village. It entered over twenty years ago, when the Canadians took over la Belle Province, and has been wreaking havoc here since then. You children, and your Aunt Josephine, must put a stop to it."
"Oh, how dreadful!" Diana gasped. "What sort of evil is this?"
"One of the worst types of evils out there," Monsieur Beurre said. "Sadly, my trusty sources are unable to specify exactly what type of evil this is. It's mostly a McGuffin of sorts."
"Oh, I love McGuffins!" Jerry told Anne. "When's Marilla going to make more blueberry McGuffins?"
"Jerry, do you even know what a McGuffin is?" Cole asked.
"It's like a cupcake, right?" Jerry replied. "Except… it doesn't have that creamy frosting stuff on top, and is much more substantial."
Cole rolled his eyes. Jerry annoyed him, for some reason, and he really wished that the sweet farmhand hadn't come on this adventure.
"Now, be off, my pretties!" Monsieur Beurre shouted. "And don't come back till lunchtime!"
Everyone went outside, feeling confused. Except Aunt Josephine.
"The evil is probably in the woods just outside of town," she said. "Follow me, children."
As they walked out of the village, Anne got a feeling that something was right. Once the small party reached the woods, she truly felt uncomfortable. Each of the trees seemed to be laughing, and she felt as if a thousand eyes were staring at her.
She felt Diana clutch her arm.
"Anne," she said, "I've got the most disgusting feeling."
"I know," Anne replied. "Me too."
They both looked about them, observing the trees, which were gnarled and twisted, reaching high above their heads. That's when they noticed that the other members of their party were gone.
"Oh, Anne! What do we do?"
"I don't know… I feel entirely unsure."
There was nothing inherently terrifying about these woods. Anne couldn't shake off the feeling of being abandoned to someone else's devices, though. Maybe she was just freaking out- last winter, Billy had destroyed her own sanctuary in the woods back in Avonlea.
"We should just find Aunt Josephine and the others," Anne said.
Diana tried to smile, nodding her head for effect.
They turned around, and walked back in the direction they came from. They kept finding themselves among thick growth, though, and were unable to leave the woods.
"We should turn around," Anne said.
"I thought we already did that," Diana said.
"No, we were trying to leave the woods."
"Yes, and then we turned around to… Oh, no! We're lost!"
The two girls took a good look around them, decided upon a direction, and started walking again. It's not like if they waited anyone they knew would find them, not in this confusing tree labyrinth.
"Where did everyone else go?" Jerry asked.
"I have no clue," Cole replied, irritated that they could get lost at all.
They were both silent for a moment, staring at the woods surrounding them.
"Which direction should we go in?" Cole asked, running a hand through his hair.
"We should stay where we are," Jerry said. "We want our friends to find us, and if we run around looking for them, it will make things too inconvenient for them."
Cole stared at Jerry, then said, "Actually, that makes a lot of sense."
The two of them sat down and waited. They weren't quite sure how long they waited, but it felt like an hour. They were silent the whole time.
Until Jerry couldn't handle it anymore.
"I'm bored," he said.
Cole, who was using a stick to make drawings in the dirt, said, "Then count your toes."
"I already did," Jerry said. "My pinky toe on my right foot looks really weird, and so I got distracted, and almost forgot that I had ten."
"How could you…? Oh, never mind."
There was more awkward silence between them.
"So, how do you know Anne?" Jerry asked.
"We were classmates," Cole said.
"Oh, so you go to school together?"
"We were classmates. Then I stopped going to school."
"How could you stop going to school? School is such a privilege."
"I was being bullied."
"Oh."
More awkward silence.
Just then, they heard the sound of singing in the distance. Before they knew it, they saw a man walking in their direction. His voice was clear like the autumn breeze, as lively as the spring and summer breezes, and as congested as the breeze all-year-round next to a grass seed farm. He was singing a song that was kind of like "Le P'tit Bonheur", but had more references to cannibalism in it.
"Bon matin, garçons," the man said. "Qu'est-ce qui se passe ici? Vous avez les visages des petits chats perdus sans leure mère."
"Monsieur, vous êtes trop sympathique," Jerry said, standing up. Cole stood up, looking a little scared. "On est vraiment perdu. Pouvez-vous nous aider?"
"D'accord," the man said, smiling, showing off a row of teeth that were a little too white. "Venez avec moi."
Jerry was about to follow the man, but Cole grabbed his arm and said, "I don't trust that man."
"What do you mean?" Jerry asked.
"There something… wrong about him," Cole said.
"If you don't trust me," the man said, "then stay where you are. Stay lost."
"I think he speaks English," Cole said to Jerry.
"Of course I speak English," the man said. "Now, may I ask your names?"
"I'm Snarty Snarkfaller," Cole said, "and this is… Harry LeBonjour? Yeah, that's his name. No lie there."
"You boys are hiding something," the man said, crossing his arms and pointing at them.
Both boys were silent.
"I knew it," the man said. "You're both being so awkward. Two boys out in the woods can only mean one thing. You two are obviously nixes."
"What?" Jerry's jaw dropped slightly with confusion.
"Sure, we are," Cole said. "Every mature mind would come to that conclusion."
"I could easily tell by your green teeth," the man said, staring at Cole's mouth.
Cole covered his mouth.
"That's just leafy vegetable matter," he said. "Aunt Josephine is a woke vegetarian, so I eat a lot of lettuce, spinach, kale, celery, broccoli… Not all of those are particularly leafy, but that doesn't mean I'm lying about not being a nix."
"Hm." The man scratched his ear, then said, "Well, you two had better follow me."
Both boys thought they might as well follow this strange guy. He already knew where they were, so if he harbored any ill will, he could totally have kidnapped them, killed them, then sold their pelts on Fourth Street. Couldn't get much worse than that. Probably.
"This is bad," Gilbert said. "Aunt Josephine, what are we going to do?"
They'd had the most unfruitful time trying to find their friends lost in the woods, and had returned into town to talk over the issue with Monsieur Beurre. Inconveniently, Monsieur Beurre was at work (though no one in their right mind would hire him for anything; he worked with taxes).
"We should do what I always do when someone I care about is lost," Aunt Josephine said.
For what feels like the umpteenth time in this story, there was an awkward silence.
"And, that is…?" Gilbert was trying to be polite, but it was getting difficult. He really cared for Anne, and sort of cared for all those other people lost in that wooded area, so he was getting kind of cranky.
"First, we drink tea," Aunt Josephine said, "then we use the tea leaves to determine where everyone is. The boys got lost first, and the girls got lost next, which implies that there are two missing parties from our one party. So, we need to use the leaves from two teacups to determine separately their whereabouts. You're a boy, so you'll be able to use your leaves to find the boys."
"How does that even work?"
"Well, the tea notices you have boy spit, so it'll just assume you care more about finding other boys."
"But Anne's the person I'm in love with!"
"You want the tea to confuse your spit with Anne's? That'd mean you're related."
"Wow, these tea leaves are really confused. Do they just assume all people of the same gender are related?"
"Not Gertrude and me. That's how I knew we would be right for each other. Tea never fails, as long as it isn't one of those fake herbal infusions."
They drank their tea in relative silence (Gilbert tried not to slurp and gulp, but it was just too difficult). Eventually, they were able to look at their tea leaves.
Aunt Josephine looked in her cup first.
"It looks like the girls are lost in the North-Southern section of the woods," she said. "Gilbert, show me your cup."
"I think I burned my tongue," the sad boy complained.
Aunt Josephine looked at Gilbert's cup, then said, "It looks like the boys are in the company of a Celtic man."
"Really?" Gilbert asked. "Is his skin painted blue?"
"That's a rotten stereotype," Aunt Josephine said. "But his name is Angus Rotty McSnottery, so I guess some stereotypes are true."
"That's a terrible name."
"I know. He appears to me a turf accountant."
"Can we get back to talking about Anne's predicament?"
"She and Diana are about to walk into a cave occupied by hornets, and some endangered bats."
"Well, if they're hanging out with a bunch of hornets, I can see why the bats are an endangered species."
"We must rescue the girls, the boys, and maybe the bats if they're in the middle of being attacked by those hornets. I like bats. I remember when I was a babybat- it was after hearing Siouxsie Sioux's dramatic reading of 'Carmilla'. I could only dress the part on holidays, though, since my boss wanted me to look 'presentable'."
It was hard to believe Aunt Josephine would be so compliant to the system, but this was no time for Gilbert to inquire into her past. Right now, they had to find Anne, and the other friends, before it was too late.
Anne and Diana were staring at the cave.
"Should we go in?" Anne asked.
"Why would we ever just go into a cave?" Diana asked. "We don't want to get even more lost."
"But I just thought of the most tragical tale about this gave- it's the home of a lost explorer, like us, who has to depend on his own understanding of nature for survival."
"Oh, Anne, you have such a wonderful imagination, but, right now, I can only think of this as a cave."
"I know. That's because you're on a lower plane of existence, a zoophyte, so to speak."
"What's a zoophyte?"
"I don't know. I read it in a book on Darwin's travels on the Beagle. It was totally and utterly trippy, and filled my head with such romantical ideas."
"About species' extinctions? Well, suit yourself, Anne. Anyways, I don't think we should go into the cave."
"But it might get dark soon."
"I thought it was still morning."
"No, it's afternoon."
The two girls tried to see what direction of the sky the sun was in, but the trees covered it up, so it was impossible to tell.
"This trip's crap," Diana said. "This is the last time I'm going anywhere on a whim with anyone."
Just then, they saw a wolf peek at them from behind a tree. She was wearing woolen knickers and a woolen jumper, and wore a straw hat on her head. She smiled at the girls.
"Bonjour, petites filles," she said. "Voulez-vous explorer la caverne? Vous devez, parce qu'il y a beaucoup de choses magnifiques dans ce type d'endroit."
"We're not going into that stupid cave!" Diana said. "Now, get away, wolf!"
"Diana, be nice to the wolf!" Anne said. "She just wants to give us directions… I think. I've been trying to learn French, but as of yet I only know how to say 'oui', 'baguette', and 'Parlez-vous franglais'."
"That wolf wants us to go into the cave," Diana said.
"Well, I guess we can trust her, then, since she lives here," Anne said. "What does she have to gain from us going into the cave and getting hurt?"
"Maybe her family lives in there."
"That cave is too big for an entire wolf pack to live in. Plus, I thought wolves were nomadic."
The wolf rolled her eyes, walked right up to the girls, and pushed them into the cave.
The two girls found themselves in total darkness, as if the cave opening had simply disappeared. Suddenly, they heard a buzzing and whirring sound, as if some large machine was being turned on. The buzzing and whirring got louder and louder. Soon, a light turned on.
"Where are we?!" Diana screamed. "I want to go home!"
The two girls were in a boat floating on some sort of underground river. All along the sides of the cave wall were creepy automatons singing a repetitive song about how "it's a small world" or something like that.
The two girls stared wide-eyed at the automatons, which all seemed to be staring back at them. Suddenly, one of the automatons, a creepy little blue-haired girl in a grey rebozo and wooden shoes, jumped out from its place, and landed in the girls' boat. It repeated a series of unintelligible babble, then jumped back off the boat. Both girls screeched in terror.
The boat stopped at what appeared to be a wooden dock- or, rather, a stage of sorts.
A voice said from nowhere in particular, "Ladies and gentlemen, give it up to the one and only Kiki the Singer!"
Floating down on a cardboard unicorn and landing on the stage was a pale, skinny man with blonde highlights in his wild, black hair and mustache, dressed in a rainbow-colored mohair suit.
"Good day, y'all," the man said with a slight lisp. "It's time for me to sing a song!"
"Mr. Phillips?!" both girls exclaimed in shock.
