Epilogue
The next time David and Jenny went to visit their grandmother, she stood waiting for them at the end of the lane. "Jenny…I'm afraid I have some sad news for you, honey."
"Wh-what?" Jenny asked, her hand finding its way into David's.
"Those statues that you liked so much…well, they're gone."
Jenny relaxed, though she still had to blink back tears of missing Thompkins and disappointment at not being able to get to Narnia. "I know," she said in a small voice that Lady Lobelia failed to hear.
"What happened to them?" David asked, a slight twinkle in his eye as he wondered what explanation his grandmother could come up with.
"Oh, Hendrickson's gone and taken them; probably dumped them off a bridge somewhere," she said in disgust and with little thought of how Jenny might feel about such a fate for her "friends." "He's never liked them, and I suppose that nonsense with the 'bleeding' statue was the last straw. But I've fired him without notice."
"Granma, you can't!" David exclaimed in horror.
"What do you mean, I can't, young man?" Lady Lobelia demanded. "He has never given satisfaction, and stealing or destroying my property goes too far."
"But he didn't!" David insisted.
"And how would you know that; did you take them?"
"Well, sort of…" David faltered.
"And I helped!" Jenny burst out; it was closer to the truth than Lady Lobelia would ever believe.
She burst out laughing, her anger at the gardener forgotten with Jenny's outrageous statement. "You! Jenny, you couldn't lift even one of them. But if it means so much to you both, I'll tell Hendrickson he can have his job back. Though the way you felt about those statues, Jenny, I should think you'd be glad to see him go."
"But he didn't take them, Granma," Jenny said earnestly. "They came to life and went back to Narnia."
"Jenny!" David hissed.
But Lady Lobelia only smiled indulgently. "Maybe they did, dear; maybe they did."
Relieved that she took Jenny's story as mere imagining, David winked at his sister. Jenny giggled, and then unable to stop himself, David joined in hearty laughter.
Lady Lobelia shook her head, but her own eyes were twinkling in response.
oOo
And what of Thompkins' knee? Once in Narnia, he found a healer to tend it, as he had promised, and in time it healed, though he always limped badly, leaning on a staff. And the young dwarves and rabbits never tired of hearing how he had gotten the injury when he stood as a statue in a garden in the World of Men, and of the little daughter of Eve who had brought him back to life.
The End
I proofread all my stories at least once before posting, but if you see any mistakes I might have missed, please let me know! (Note that this story is formatted using British spellings.)
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