Baartock Part 3

Fennis was about to turn toward the house.

"But there aren't any houses in the woods," said Mrs. Jackson.

"Can we look at the house first, Baartock?" asked Mr. Fennis.

"Home over there!" said Baartock again, still pointing toward the woods, but he sat quietly as they drove up to the house. There was a smaller sign on the porch by the front door, 'House & Farm For Sale - Crow Real Estate' with a phone number to call.

"It certainly doesn't look like anyone lives here," said Mr. Fennis, as he turned the car around in the driveway. "All right, Baartock. Which way is your home?"

"Home that way," said Baartock, still pointing into the woods.

"Mr. Fennis, do you think he's lost?" asked Mrs. Jackson quietly.

"Not lost. Never get lost. Home over there!" said Baartock firmly.

Trolls can also hear very well.

Mr. Fennis drove the car back to where the driveway turned down hill and stopped it. "Baartock, just how far is your home?"

"Home over there. Not far. Easy walk," said Baartock. If these humans weren't with him, he could easily run home.

"Mrs. Jackson, if we are going to meet Baartock's parents, I guess we have to walk through the woods. Baartock, will your mother or father be home now?" asked Mr. Fennis.

"Mother home now," answered Baartock. He was suddenly hungry, thinking about the lizard and poison ivy dinner she said she would fix.

Mr. Fennis got out and went around and opened the door for Mrs. Jackson and Baartock. "Baartock, will you please show us the way to your home?"

They walked into the woods, Baartock in front, walking easily and quietly between trees and bushes. Next came Mr. Fennis, pus.h.i.+ng his way through, and holding branches out of the way for Mrs. Jackson. She came last, carrying her briefcase full of important school papers.

"Slow down, Baartock," called Mr. Fennis, when Baartock got too far ahead of them. "We can't go that fast. How much further is it?"

"Home soon," answered Baartock.

"I really don't believe this," said Mrs. Jackson, more to herself than to Mr. Fennis. "Could he live out here in the woods?"

"He acts like he knows where he's going," was Mr. Fennis' reply.

Baartock was waiting for them at the dry stream bed. When they caught up with him, he pointed up the hill. "Home there," he said, starting again.

This was easier walking, without all of the branches. But there were a lot of loose rocks underfoot, and a few pools of muddy water from the last rain. A little way further, Baartock turned into the woods and stopped in a clearing by the mouth of a cave.

"Home!" he yelled, and went inside.

"But he can't live in a cave," said Mr. Fennis, panting. It had been more of a hike in the woods than he had been expecting.

Just then, Baartock came back out of the cave, followed by his mother.

"Oh!" gasped Mrs. Jackson.

Baartock's mother, Whinnurf Slinurp, was an adult troll. She was almost seven feet tall, with a slightly gray-green skin, which is very attractive for a troll. She was dressed in something like a robe, made of odd bits of cloth sewn patchwork fas.h.i.+on. She was a gentle troll, not mean or nasty like some trolls. Of course, neither Mrs. Jackson nor Mr. Fennis knew that she was a gentle troll. She had a basket of acorns and toadstools in her hand, which she had been fixing for dinner.

"Who you?" she asked in a booming voice.

Trolls, being larger than most humans, have louder, deeper voices.

Compared to the way trolls normally are, she was being very polite.

These must be humans from the nearby village. She hadn't seen humans in quite a long time. She had almost forgotten how little and ugly humans were.

Mr. Fennis and Mrs. Jackson looked at Baartock's mother and then at each other. Mr. Fennis was ready to run away right now and forget the whole thing. He was wondering if Mrs. Jackson could run fast enough to keep up. For just a moment, Mrs. Jackson was wondering the same thing. Then something made her change her mind. She had come to meet Baartock's mother or father and that was what she was going to do. So, while Mr. Fennis watched wide-eyed, she said, "I'm Mrs. Jackson, the princ.i.p.al of the Marvis T. Johnson Elementary School. This is Mr.

Fennis, who teaches third grade there."

"So," said Whinnurf Slinurp. That was like saying 'okay', only no troll, even a very polite troll, would say 'okay'.

"Are you Baartock's mother?" asked Mrs. Jackson.

"Yes," said Whinnurf Slinurp. Proudly she added, "He good troll."

Chapter 5

"A troll! I've been driving around all day with a troll!" thought Mr.

Fennis. "I didn't even think there were trolls. Aren't they supposed to be mean? Aren't they supposed to eat people?" Mr. Fennis tried to remember everything that he had ever read about trolls in stories and fairy tales. The only things he could remember were scary.

But, somehow, if Mrs. Jackson was having the same thoughts, they didn't seem to bother her. All she saw was a seven-year-old child who should be in school.

"Have you enrolled Baartock in school?" she asked.

"What? What school?" asked Whinnurf Slinurp.

Mrs. Jackson had it all figured out now. Troll or not, this was another parent who had to be told about the importance of education, the state laws requiring school attendance, and all the other things about school. "All children are supposed to go to school," she said.

"Baartock is supposed to go to school."

"Go school today," Baartock told his mother.

"Baartock," said Mrs. Jackson, "why don't you show Mr. Fennis around?

I need to talk to your mother for a few minutes." Both Baartock and Mr.

Fennis started to say something, but she cut them both off.

"We'll only be a few minutes," she said again. "We'll call you.

"Come on, Baartock. Why don't you show me around?" Mr. Fennis decided that one young troll was probably better than two trolls and a school princ.i.p.al.

Baartock led the way back toward the dry stream bed. He wasn't sure what he would be able to show. All the noise this human, Mr. Fennis, was making was scaring everything away. Even the squirrels and mice were all hiding. He pointed through the trees at a head-knocking bird.

"It's a red-headed woodp.e.c.k.e.r," said Mr. Fennis, when he finally saw it.

Then Baartock got an idea. He knew just what to show. He started up the hill along the stream bed.