Chapter 10: Reaching an Accord
Both Janelle Stephens and Mary Elizabeth Cattermole were glad to see that the boys-versus-girls water gun battle was finally beginning to wind down. It would soon get very dark outside, and the two witches wanted their children to come in before it did.
"Pack it in, kids," said Janelle Stephens. "It'll be dark soon, and I want everyone inside before you can't see your noses in front of your faces!"
"Just five more minutes, mom," said Mathew Stephens, still feeling a little water sloshing in the tank of his Super Soaker. (He just knew that there had to be a dry spot somewhere on his sister and her friend.) "Tomorrow is Saturday, so we don't have to get up for school, or anything . . . ."
"Please, mummy," added Alfred Cattermole for good measure. "We're having lots of fun!"
"Inside now, the lot of you," said Mary Elizabeth, hoping that her voice betrayed no nervousness. "You and Ellie may visit with Mathew and Evie for another hour inside before going back to the tent for bedtime."
Mary Elizabeth realized that in the time it took for that short exchange, it had gotten noticeably darker outside. Growing up in London, there was always some light even on the darkest evenings; so much so that even the stars were hard to see. But here in rural Missouri, she could not believe the near pitch black nights. She would need her wand and a lumos spell or a battery-powered torch to find her way to the tent her family now called home from the Stephens' back porch.
"Don't make us ask you twice, kids," said Janelle in a tone that, while pleasant, meant business.
It was a tone that Matthew and Evie knew all too well and one that Ellie and Alfred both picked up on quickly. Matt collected the water guns as the younger kids headed inside (but not before Evie and Ellie gave their brothers one last blast from their Super Soakers and the boys returned fire.)
"You too, son," said Janelle, as she and Mary Elizabeth handed their children towels.
"I just want to drain the water from our SuperSoakers," said Matt. "I'll be in in a couple of minutes." Then to Alfred, he added, "Get inside and get dried-off. I'll read you some more of "Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn" as soon as I get in and dry myself."
Matt lined the water guns up on the picnic table and began to empty them when he heard footsteps on the grass behind him. When he turned, he was surprised to see Maisie Cattermole approaching him slowly, just visible in the cone of light coming from the back porch lamp. She stopped a few yards away, and the two ten-year-olds stood facing each other for only the second time since the Cattermoles first came to live with them several days ago.
At the sight of Maisie, Matt felt self-conscious. In contrast to his own soggy, cut-off jeans and tee-shirt, Maisie wore a clean, but old-fashioned dress similar to the one she wore during their ill-fated first encounter. Caught off-guard, Matt knew that he probably looked as surprised as he was wet. Matt could not figure out Maisie's expression that, while pleasant, was not exactly friendly. But her expression was not exactly hostile, either . . . .
Businesslike. That was the word that came into Matt's mind as he routed around his vocabulary for something that fit. He had seen the same look on his parents' faces when they were making especially hard deals with customers and suppliers. Though due to The War, it was a look that he had not seen on their faces for a very long time.
And Matt also noticed something else: Maisie Cattermole was a pretty girl. And if she ever smiled, he thought, she would probably be very pretty at that.
Matt broke the silence. "Uh, Hi Maisie . . . ."
"Hello, Matthew," said Maisie in a not-friendly and not-hostile voice. "We need to talk. But first, we have something that needs to be settled."
There was something about the way Maisie said "we" that gave Matt a bad feeling. From her tone, he could tell that she was not just talking about the two of them.
"What do you mean, "we," Maisie?"
Maisie responded by gazing down at his feet. When Matt followed her gaze, he felt his heart jump into his throat. Inches away from his bare feet were two of the biggest copperhead snakes that he had ever seen.
Matthew Starr Stephens knew that the bite of a copperhead was rarely fatal, at least to an adult. And with his "Wizard's Physical Constitution," he knew that even if both snakes bit him, he stood a very good chance of making a full and swift recovery; even if it was an envenomed bite instead of a "dry-bite" that copperheads were know n to give as a "warning." Besides, in a real pinch, Dr. Bombay was only a call away.
But Matt also knew that the bite of a copperhead could be very, very painful. Or so he had heard. And more than anything else at the moment, he wanted his knowledge of snake- lore to remain purely theoretical.
In the end, Matt decided it would be best to play it cool. He returned his eyes to meet Maisie's, managed a half-smile and said, "Well, I'm glad to see that you are making some friends . . . ."
"I'm not exactly their "friend," Matthew," said Maisie seriously. "Snakes don't like to make friends with humans. My role here is more of what you would call an "interpreter." So it would be proper for you to address the snakes during this proceeding, as it is they who are speaking while I merely translate for them."
"If you s-say so," said Matt, looking back down at the snakes, who mercifully moved away from his feet slightly. "So, uh, how's it going, you two . . . ?"
The snaked made hissing sounds, never taking their eyes off of the boy. Every few moments, they would stop, and Maisie replied with hissing sounds of her own. After what seemed like an eternity, Maisie finally spoke English.
"Right. The snakes have a proposition for you. They promise not to bite you or your sister or anyone else living here. In exchange, you must promise to not hurt any of them; either with magic or by throwing things at them or shooting at them with your BB Gun, whatever that is . . . .
"The truth is that they are more afraid of you than you could ever be of them. In short, if you promise to leave them alone; they will leave you alone. Now, do we have an accord?" Matt did not have to think long, and nodded in the affirmative vigorously.
"You have to say that you agree, Matthew," said Maisie. "I can't translate a nod."
Remembering to keep his eyes on the snakes as he talked, Matt felt a little braver, and said, "Does your deal also cover any pets that I might get one day? Say, a dog or a cat, maybe?"
Again, Maisie hissed and the snakes hissed back. She said, "Yes, Matthew. That condition is both acceptable and reasonable to us. We probably should have specified it from the start."
"Then, I agree," said Matt to the snakes, feeling a little more comfortable at the strangeness of the situation, even by the standards of his magical family. "I'd like that a lot."
After Maisie and the snakes exchanged more hissing, the snakes turned and slithered back to the tree line, now all but invisible in the darkness that enshrouded the Stephens' home.
Matt felt a cool relief wash over him. He was about to thank Maisie, but before he could say anything, she said, "Now, you and I need to talk . . . ."
"Sure," said Matt. He gestured to the picnic table. "Wanna sit down?"
Once they were sitting, Maisie said, "I understand that you are "happy" that we – my family – are here. Something about wanting other kids around that you do not have to "keep secrets from;" am I right?"
"Yeah, sure," said Matt. "All the other kids at my school are muggles, and I have to be really careful what I do or say around them! And as far as having anyone from school come over, forget about it . . . ."
"Well, you should know that I am anything but 'happy' to be here, Matthew Stephens," said Maisie. Again, her voice was neither friendly nor hostile, making her frustratingly difficult for Matt to read, much less see where she was going.
"You see, Matthew, back in London, I had friends; plenty of friends from Wizarding families. I had a home and a room that I shared with my sister and places that I liked to go.
"But then came The War and . . . and a lot of my "friends" stopped coming over and stopped asking me to come over to their homes. They were afraid to associate with my family because suddenly it was dangerous to be or know a "Muggle-Born Wizard or Witch," like my mum. The last few weeks, they were even afraid to contact me by mirror or owl.
"And then a week ago, my mum got a notice to appear before someone named Dolores Umbridge, who was head of the "Muggle-Born Registration Commission." Oh, mum tried to tell us that it was no great matter. But I knew better, especially when mum and dad kept us home from school that day. Then, a few hours after they left for the Ministry of Magic for mum's hearing, they both came back home. They looked scared, and dad was only half-dressed!
"Then mum and dad told us that we had to "go away for a time," and that "we had to leave immediately." Other than dad grabbing some clothes and shoes, we didn't even have time to take anything with us but what we were wearing, much less pack anything. We even left some lights and the TV on, and mum and dad never do that when we go somewhere. I don't even think that dad locked the door when we left our flat."
"T-that sounds really bad," said Matt, hoping that he sounded more sincere than dorky.
"This isn't a "holiday abroad" for us, Matthew," said Maisie. "My brother and sister think that this is some kind of "adventure," which I suppose is all well and good for them. But I know that we are here because some bad people back home are out to harm us at best and kill us at worst only because our mum is Muggle-Born!
"So, when we finally came to your home a few days later and I first met you, I thought that you were very selfish to act the way you did; being glad that I was here to be your "friend." And then, when you made those snakes fly back into the woods . . . ."
"But I thought that they were going to bite you!" said Matt.
"I know that now," said Maisie. "And you had no way of knowing that I am a Parselmouth, and that they just wanted to talk to me about how you tried to hurt them and their friends every time you saw them. All you saw was a couple of venomous snakes bearing down on me. We – the snakes and I – discussed this at length a little while ago. And it was the snakes who pointed out to me that I was being just as selfish towards you.
"Back home, I was attending the local muggle school to learn letters and numbers. But I've always had friends my age in the Wizarding World that I could be with and let my guard down. I can't imagine what it must be like to always have to watch what I say around others to keep Our World's existence a secret. So I can understand how you must have felt when you heard that there were some kids your age from Our World to stay with you for a time.
"I guess what I'm saying is that I'm sorry that I was acting like such a sod. And I'm sorry that I was mad at you after you attacked the snakes. I know that you thought I was in danger, and were just trying to protect me."
Matt smiled, and said, "Well, I did think that those snakes were trying to bite you, or something. But I guess that the way I went about it – jumping out of my tree house like I was Tarzan, or something . . . I have to admit that I was kind of showing off . . . ."
"I know," said Maisie, smiling for the first time since she came here. "But I have to admit that it was impressive. Your tree house must be at least ten feet off the ground."
"Twelve feet, seven inches, actually," said Matt. "But who's counting . . . ."
Maisie giggled, and Matt joined in with a laugh of his own.
He was right. Maisie Cattermole was very pretty when she smiled.
Inside the Stephens' house, Janelle and Mary Elizabeth watched from behind the sliding glass door as their eldest children talked. Between them, Alfred Cattermole stood in his pajamas, holding the book that Matt promised to read to him "in a few moments" – a half an hour ago.
"Call them inside, mummy," said Alfred. "Matt said he would read to me!"
"I'll read to you, tonight, dear," said Mary Elizabeth. "For now, I think that we need to give the big kids time to talk things out . . . ."
Outside, the conversation between Matt and Maisie was winding down.
"So the snakes told me," said Maisie. That I should ". . . . Conssssider idiot'ssss point of view. No idiotssss hisss age to play with. Then you arrive. Enthussssiassssm to be expected."
"I guess they would think that I am an idiot after all that I did to them," admitted Matt. "What else did they say about me?"
"They pointed out that, "Alsssso, isss male. Attemptssss at courtssship in immature manner to be expected..."
"Well, to be honest, I don't know much about girls," said Matt, smiling uncomfortably. Maisie was cute and smart. But Matt did not want to risk getting any cooties, just yet. "But for what it's worth, you are kinda . . . pretty." That made Maisie blush and smile.
"So, anyway, Maisie," continued Matt. "My mom wants me to get up early, tomorrow morning. She wants to make her crawdad gumbo for dinner Saturday night, and wants me to set the traps in the creek a short way from here.
"I was thinking, would you like to come with me when I do . . . ?"
To Matt's surprise, Maisie said, "I would love to!"
Before going off to their beds, the two ten-year-olds went inside the Stephenses home to let them know that any misunderstandings that they had with each other were now resolved, making everyone present breathe a sigh of relief.
When it was time to go, Maisie said, "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Oh, and Matt, that was really nice of you to give some of your American Matchbox cars to Alfred, and your sister giving Ellie some of her dolls. They had to leave all of their toys behind at our flat. That was quite considerate of you and your sister."
A short time later, the Stephenses and Cattermoles were asleep. But a few hundred miles away, Pansy Parkinson checked her watch. After two more Floo Hearth hops, they would be close enough to Bonne Terre, Missouri, to take a muggle cab. The thought made Pansy as nervous as she was excited.
And she could not wait to meet her new little sister.
Author's Acknowledgement: I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Marquis-Carabas for his suggestion of what the snakes would have said to Maisie Cattermole.