A Twist in the Mist, Chapter Twenty-Nine

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 "I think I've found the right building for our new pet shelter."

They were eating breakfast the morning after the party; TP, Evalda, Harold and Madeline. Evalda had cooked oatmeal, and there were left over fruit tarts from last night.

"It's not too far from here, actually. Used to be a vet's office, so there are kennels and a big fenced area in back."

"Sounds perfect," said Madeline, spooning up cereal.

"I expect you to do some volunteer work, TP. It'll give you something constructive to do with your time."

He wouldn't rise to the bait. He had dozens of constructive projects in mind, but they wouldn't rate with Evalda unless she'd thought of them first.

"Yes, well, we'll see," he said.

"It'll be a family affair if Marnie and Harold move down here. I'm hoping she'll decide to oversee it."

"And I'll walk the dogs," said Harold. "And Madeline can take them for rides in the green beetle, and maybe I can come too."

They all laughed. After breakfast TP got a call from Charles.

"Morning, TP. Great party last night."

"It certainly was memorable, wasn't it?"

Charles chuckled. "I made a few calls, did a little nosing around, and unearthed some information you'll find interesting."

"Oh?"

"One of the orderlies at the hospital who'd been on duty the night the first three of Dr. Demento's victims came in confessed last night that he'd injected two of them with Gogetamine. He didn't have the authority to do so, but the patients were so distraught he took it upon himself to drug them."

"Hmmm, said TP."

"Yes, and now it gets even more interesting," said Charles. "The other victim, Marsha Trueblood, whose watch was stolen, was at the police station last night. She wanted you to be in a lineup, but I doubt she'd have recognized you even if you were Dr. Demento."

TP raised his eyebrows. "Why's that?"

"I read up a little on Gogetamine. It has a long list of side effects, including blurred vision. Anyway, after questioning Ms. Trueblood some more, the police paid a visit to the friend she'd been visiting right before the attack. Turns out the friend takes care of her ailing mother, who was participating in the Gogetamine trial. The mother liked to put the drug in her tea and sip it over a period of time so as not to get the full dose immediately. While Marsha was visiting, her friend made tea, and somehow the mother's tea with the drug in it got served to Marsha. And finally, they've decided the sting Marsha felt on her shoulder that night was likely an insect bite."

"Thanks for letting me know all this, Charles. You've been more than helpful and I really appreciate what you've done."

"No problem."

TP ended the call and went out to the back yard, where Harold was collecting his dump truck. Chester/Fabian was removing the lights from the hedge.

"Everything all right?" he asked TP.

"Yes. Yes, it was all a misfortunate misunderstanding."

"The party got pretty wild after you left." He snickered.

"What happened," asked TP.

"Aunt Gladys was steaming mad that Marge called the cops on you. She said that if you were Dr. Demento, Marge was Lizzie Bordon, because nobody in their right mind could suspect you of being a criminal. They were going at it right in the middle of the party. I was afraid Aunt Gladys was going to bop Marge with a serving spoon, but Mel broke them up and everyone went home."

"Good grief," said TP, picturing Gladys in her sequined heels brandishing a spoon. "I hope I haven't ruined their friendship."

"Uh-uh," said Chester/Fabian. "One thing about Aunt Gladys, she doesn't stay mad long."

TP wandered over to Harold, who was standing near the garden. They stood side by side, watching a butterfly hover over a patch of white turtlehead in the flower patch.

"It's the Baltimore checkerspot," said Harold.

"Yes, it is. She'll be laying her eggs on the turtlehead. Harold, I've been wondering something."

"What?"

"I've been thinking about how the drug that Archie ate didn't make him sick."

Harold gave him a stricken, guilty look.

"And I've just been wondering if maybe you gave him a little piece of the special medicine from the jar in my bedroom."

Harold nodded and hung his head. "I know it was wrong not to ask, but I was so worried about Archie, and I only gave him a tiny bit, and..."

"And you were afraid you'd get in trouble?"

"Yes."

"Next time be sure and ask, Harold. But I'm very, very glad Archie's ok."

After Harold and Evalda left, TP found Madeline sitting in the living room, staring pensively out the window and fingering the green stone, now back on its chain around her neck.

"What are you thinking?"

She sighed. "I'm going through the hedge today."

"Ah." He'd known she'd go back to Minglemist.

"I just can't move forward with Todd until I've gotten closure with Sephyr. I have to go find him."

"Be careful, and don't walk past the old mill. Take the long way around. And just in case, I'll give you some chips of the vegetable stone to take along."

"Will you be going back?" she asked.

"I can't imagine not fishing now and then with Doc. And I have some whistles to deliver to Glorious Beginnings."

"I want to meet him, and thank him for saving your life."

"He's an interesting fellow. I'll look forward to getting your take on him."

"What are your plans for the summer?" she asked.

TP sat down in his rocker, frowned and steepled his hands under his chin. "You know I've been wanting to write a book. I thought if I could write about all the exciting life forms in Minglemist, and if people could come and see first hand how vibrant and diverse and pristine and wild and wonderful it is, maybe it would inspire them to help restore our own collapsing ecosystems." 

TP stood up and began pacing the floor. "I want to make people care that the puritan tiger beetle may become extinct, and that the whip-poor-wills and bobolinks are disappearing. I want to make them want to nurture and love and protect and foster life; to know how important the honeybees and the earthworms are. To understand that our lives depend on the health of the soil and air and water. I want them to get excited about the healing potential hidden in the plant world, waiting to be discovered. I want them to understand that we aren't separate from nature, that science and religion are the same damn thing, not two opposing sides at war with each other."

He stopped for a breath, giving her a lopsided smile.

She smiled back. "It's so good to see your spirit and zest for life coming back, TP." 

He nodded. "But here's the thing. No one but you and me can even see Minglemist. If I write about it I'll be labeled a lunatic and no one will believe a word I say, so what's the point?"

Madeline looked at him thoughtfully. "You could always write it as a fantasy story."

He huffed disgustedly.

"No, I'm serious, TP. Fantasy stories carry great power. The truths behind the tale can be as real as the ones in any dry, scientific tome, and much more engaging. Stimulate people's imagination, show them a world where nature is unspoiled. Make them long to see Minglemist become a reality here in this world. Except for the chimera dragons, of course."

"I think they're already here," TP said glumly, "and people need to know about them too, before they turn into monsters. The more humans lose touch with nature, the stronger the doppelgangers grow. They're parasites. Parasites move in when trash builds up and needs to be removed, just like insects attack diseased and dying plants when the environment is unhealthy. Our thoughts get overloaded with data not grounded in the real world and it makes us sick. There has to be balance."

"So write about it. Make it fun and exciting and passionate. I'll even illustrate it for you. I still have all my sketches from last summer."

He felt a tiny glimmer of interest. "I'll consider it." 

Right now, though, he needed to help Fabian/Chester clean up the back yard, and go thank Gladys for all her efforts, and compliment her on the job she'd done. And while he was at it, he'd ask her - no, tell her that he'd like to be called TP instead of Thad from now on.

And then he'd call Claire. 

THE END

(or is it???)

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