Sunday Best (19 Jul 2001) Tom is surprised to find Agatha in church.

Church of Jesus Christ, Redeemer
This church is more modern than the old Church of God's Word-- it actually has running water and plumbing, though the older people grumble that the pastel-colored walls and the simple, functional construction lack the character of the other church's intricately carved altar pieces and stained glass windows. Here, the altar is a flat slab of black walnut wood, what decoration there is tends to be of an abstract sort that suggests rather than depicts, and the preacher's lectern is more or less a board on a post, veneered.

Today's sermon was on the subject of guilt, and the struggle to, when one has done something wrong, acknowledge it with Jesus Christ's help, repent of one's wrongdoings, and to seek the forgiveness of those one has wronged -- but that does poorly at holding the interest of kids. It's more interesting to look about and make faces at one another without being shushed by one's parents.

Until recently, Tom hadn't had any idea who Agatha was, or vice versa, so it is with a certain curiosity that he looks about, trying to spy her. That red hair makes a good start...

Let's see. Back a few pews and to the right ... sitting next to a young man of high school age with Bryl-slicked red hair who is dressed in a brown double-breasted suit, there's a red-haired young woman, who looks to be about high school age, wearing a plain white blouse with gold buttons, a gold nylon scarf tied about her neck and tucked under the collar of her blouse, and a long green skirt. Her hair is down, unlike Agatha's ponytail, and she's carrying a small gold handbag. Could that be ... Agatha's mother? She seems too young for that. Perhaps Agatha has a sister. Or perhaps Tom's just guessing at the wrong people.

Tom squirms a bit in his own white button-down dress shirt, which is too immaculately pressed for his tastes, and his black slacks. At least he doesn't have a suit jacket of his own to worry about this time. His father, a large black-haired man, does wear a suit, a neutral gray, and his mother, a slim schoolteacher, sits primly on the other side from his father. This affords little opportunity for face-making, alas, since in church, they expect Tom to set a good example for Sara's first graders.

Rebecca is not here, of course, as her parents hold their own services at home, and perhaps Alice and Simon attend the services in the Church of God's Word. It's not unheard of, though most of the community worships at the Church of Jesus Christ, Redeemer.

The Reverend leads the church through a closing hymn, and then the grown-ups are standing and filing out, or chatting with one another in fast-growing groups, leaving the kids to find their own friends and amusements. This leaves Tom looking around for Agatha again. Her relatives seem like a good place to start-- and there they are, walking to the entrance of the church, though they will have to pass Tom to get there. Agatha's apparent brother totes an old salesman's pasteboard briefcase, the purpose of which Tom can only guess.

"Is the Farmer's Market open today?" the red-haired girl asks the likewise-haired boy with her. "I wouldn't mind stopping there on the way to the manor."

Tom whistles to himself and swings a foot idly. He looks around the room, eyes falling back to whom he thinks may be Agatha. His eyes lock on her and her brother, examining closely. "Could it be? Nah..," he thinks to himself, "That person looks like a girl. Couldn't be Agatha."

The older boy shakes his head. "On a Sunday? I wouldn't think so!" He glances incuriously toward the spiky-haired boy, then looks back to his sister. "Why, Aggie? Something you want?"

Tom almost falls over, as his foot swings out a bit too far when he hears the name "Aggie". He regains his balance quickly and blinks, shaking his head. "I didn't hear that ... Could that really be her?" he ponders, abandoning all pretense of just looking around the room; he stares right at the two.

"Sometimes they have homemade root-beer," might-be-Agatha says, then follows her brother's gaze and nods to Tom.

"Hmmm... That'd be good. Foxworthy's is good too, but they're definitely not open today," the older boy says.

"I guess we can make it without something to drink," Agatha says, "It's not too hot out." Once the pair is closer, she says, "Hi Tommy, don't you ever comb your hair?"

Tom runs his hand through his wild black hair. "Um, hey there, um, Agatha," he says, "Wow, you look, well, different." He then stands up straight and says, "Comb my hair? Is there something wrong with my hair?"

"Tommy, huh?" Agatha's brother glances between Agatha and Thomas, seems to make a decision, and sticks his hand out. "Hey, I'm Toby. Aggie's brother."

"Just Tom is fine," Thomas says amiably. He takes the offered hand and shakes it, "Nice to meet you. I'm Thomas Winthrope. I met, um, Aggie recently. Never through I'd run into her here."

"Tom and I go to school together," Agatha explains to her brother. To Tom she says, "Toby made my sword for me. He's pretty cool. And there's nothing wrong with your hair; I'm sure there are plenty of hedgehogs that would envy you." She grins sardonically.

Toby grins. "Oh, be nice, Aggie," he says. He shifts his grip on the briefcase.

Tom grins back at Agatha. "Well, unfortunately, I don't think there's anything anyone would envy of you, Aggie." He pauses and winks, saying, "Kidding." Tom then looks back at Toby and says, "You made the sword, huh? It's very cool. Did it take you long?"

"Ohh... A couple days. Why, did you want one?" Toby says. "It wasn't too hard. I could use the school lathe to make the blade and hilt."

Tom waves toward his parents, then motions toward the two kids to let them know he's heading outside with them. He then follows Agatha and Toby out. "Another one? Hm. Quite possibly. You never know if one could be useful. Though, I don't know if I could afford one."

Toby chuckles. "Well, it'd be no trouble, Tom, but I might charge you a few bucks for the wood and paint."

Tom's father smiles and waves. "Have a good time!" he calls, voice carrying quite nicely. His mother adds, "Be back home by dinner, Tommy, dear!"

"Will do!" Thomas shouts back, then adds, "And I promise to try and not wreck my clothes!" He waves toward them again through the doorway.

Once outside, Agatha says, "We're going over to Harcourt Manor to show off some of Toby's work to the new owner, Richard. He's gonna renovate the place."

Tom looks toward Agatha, surprised. "The old creepy manor? No way! Hey, think I could come along? I'd love to get a close look at that place."

"You have to promise not to go poking around though, Tom," Agatha warns. "Richard said there were a lot of rotten floors and stuff."

Toby nods agreement. "Yes, you need to be careful around those old places. Even if the wood looks fine, there can be rot on the underside that makes the boards break when you step on them. They made those places to last in the old days, though."

Tom looks back to Agatha and feigns a hurt expression. "Agatha, would I ever do that?"

Agatha gives Tom a suspicious look. "Of course you would. If I hadn't just seen your parents, I'd have thought you were raised by wolves or something. I can't imagine you not poking around."

Tom laughs. "Nah, the wolves gave me up. Too wild, you see..." He grins and shrugs. "Life is meant to be lived and experienced. Why, if you don't venture into the unknown, you might regret missing some great adventure. Life is too short to have regrets like that."

Agatha doesn't seem to have a snappy retort to that one. "Well... yeah, I guess so.."

Tom nudges Toby. "By the way, how did you get her into that dress? I bet she put up quite a fight."

Tom then casts a glance back at Agatha and says, "And besides, it's not like there are such things as ghosts and monsters right?"

Agatha just glares at Tom for a moment, then says, "Depends on how far into the unknown you're willing to venture. And I have plenty of dresses. I just don't want to wear them out."

"I had nothing to do with it!" Toby says with a laugh. "Dad raised us to be good church-going souls." He nods over to one of the groups where presumably Agatha's father might be found.

Tom nods and smirks. "Quite right. Maybe you shouldn't wear them out ... of the house."

Agatha growls, "We'd better get going. It's a long walk to Webber."

Tom pats Agatha's back and grins. "Aww, I'm just picking on you. You look nice, seriously."

Toby raises an eyebrow. "So, uh, you know Aggie pretty well, huh, Tom?" he says as he follows along.

"Oh, and normally I look like what, then?" Agatha asks Tom.

"Getting to," replies Tom, "She got pulled into some games a few friends of mine and I are playing." He then shrugs and grins, replying to Agatha, "Normally? Just sorta ordinary, really." He then adds, "Did you expect me to say an ogre or something?"

Toby nudges Agatha with his elbow. "And here I thought you were getting too old for games, sis!" He grins as he shifts his briefcase to his other hand. "Can't be dolls. The only use you had for them was to cheer you on in a tourney, and 'sides, Tom here doesn't look like the kind who plays with dolls."

"Darn right I don't play with dolls!" Tom declares.

"No, I expected you to say a guy, actually," Agatha says, apparently mollified however. Then, after glaring at her brother, she whispers to Tom, "Toby has a secret girlfriend. He puts on Old Spice for her."

The older red-haired boy halts and then gives Agatha an incredulous look. "How'd you know-- ahem! What secret girlfriend? The only secret girlfriend I see here is..." He casts a look toward Tom and then back to Agatha, meaningfully.

"Reeeaaaally?" drawls Thomas as he glances over at Toby. He then glances at Agatha, "And so ... if you have so many dresses, does that mean you have a secret boyfriend? Hmm?" Thomas then registers Toby's meaning, and looks back at Toby. "If you're trying to imply something..."

Agatha snorts and laughs. "As if! I'll stick to horses. Boys are too.." she waves a hand as if to express that she can't come up with a suitable adjective.

Toby snickers. "Just mind your manners around my sis, Tom. If she doesn't wallop you, I would, and if I didn't, Dad'd look at me and go, 'What's the matter, you ailing or something, boy?'"

Tom laughs. "Actually, Agatha can take care of herself. S'why I pick on her, because I know she'll fight back. It's fun." He then adds to Agatha's statement, "And quite right. Boys are just too cool." He grins.

"Nah, Tommy's harmless," Agatha says. "He's got too much imagination to be a real jerk."

"I just like to play one," adds Thomas, grinning.

"She's not so bad at taking care of herself, but don't tell her I said so," Toby stage-whispers to Tom. "I have to stay in business somehow. Anyway, you said it was the Harcourt Manor, didn't you, Aggie?"

"Yeah, over past the highway," Agatha confirms. "The old haunted house."

Tom makes an exaggerated wink toward Toby. "Gotcha."

"Ghosts don't exist," says Thomas under his breath.

"Lots of things can haunt a house 'sides ghosts," Agatha says.

Tom opens his mouth, then closes it, figuring he had better not say something like 'Like you, Aggie?' "Well, I guess wild animals could," he admits.

Agatha shakes her head. "No, I mean things like history."

The town is quiet, most of the stores closed for Sunday-- a day of rest, after all. A dog barks in the distance, and is answered by several others.

"History creeps around, haunting houses? Wow! Now I know why I find that class so agonizing then," Tom says, then grins. He then nudges Agatha. "Hey, that reminds me, keep a lookout for a rose and key symbol. Maybe it came from that old place."

Toby walks alongside, listening, but this last part causes him to raise an eyebrow. "What's this?"

"Found an old flute with an engraved rose vine and a key on it," Agatha says, in an offhand sort of way. "And that's not what I meant about history. It's like ... if some guy goes nuts and locks people in the cellar until they starve or something ... it sticks to the house. You can't go in there without thinking about what happened. Like you can't go to a cemetery without thinking about dying."

Tom looks at Agatha. "You think about dying when you enter a cemetery? Why dwell on something as depressing as that? I think of all the interesting places those people must've been in their life. Plus, the gravestones look cool."

"You know, you really are weird, Tommy," Agatha says, giving him a sideways look. "Maybe you should go check gravestones for that inscription too, then."

"Hey, that's an idea!" he replies.

Toby switches his briefcase from hand to hand again. "Well, some people say the reason Harcourt Manor was abandoned is because the last guy in the family died there alone. I guess he was too old to get married and have a kid or something to carry on the family name. Anyway, he was supposed to be crazy, but also had a lot of money, so they left him alone. When someone finally found out he was dead, they tried to find a next of kin, but had no luck. They didn't find any money either." He shrugs. "Anyway, there's a Harcourt family crypt in the graveyard back of God's Word."

"I didn't ask Richard if he had a wife," Agatha comments. "I guess I assumed he did. Maybe he's just fixing the place up to sell it? Who'd want to live by themselves in a big old place like that?"

"Who wouldn't? I bet that place has tons of cool secret passages," says Thomas.

Tom asks, "Er, did the crazy old guy die in the house? How long was he left there if he did?"

Toby shrugs. "That's what I heard. I dunno how long it was 'til they noticed he was dead. It was a long time ago."

"At least the smell will be gone, then," says Tom, grinning.

"You think Richard bought it to look for hidden money?" Agatha asks. "He's retired."

"Lots more can be hidden than just money, Agatha" responds Thomas.

The red-haired older boy shrugs to his sister. "You said history haunts a place. Who knows what this Richard guy is up to? Maybe he just bought it because he wants something to do in his old age."

"Like what?" Agatha asks Tom. "Big piles of lost socks and pens? Hey, maybe Richard actually knew old Harcourt! He's pretty old, after all."

Tom says, "Secret chambers full of old books and maps. Old diaries, heck, old weapons even."

Agatha teasingly asks, "I thought you found history boring though, Tom?"

"I do. But heck, they might lead to cool new places to explore. It's a necessary evil," explains Tom.

"Did the Harcourts own part of the silver mine or anything, Toby?" Agatha asks her brother. He's older, therefore he must know these things.

A breeze ruffles Tom's hair, leaving it unchanged, and causes several of Agatha's hair strands to lay across her face momentarily. This being Elliot Street, Toby guides them to the left, toward Webber Way. "Hmm. I got the impression it was a shipping fortune, but I don't know. It's ancient history." He shrugs.

"Oh, I guess they could have smuggled stuff too then," Agatha suggests. "Maybe you can volunteer to clean out the basement, Tom."

Tom hmms. "Good idea. Though, I can't in these clothes. My parents would kill me."

"Of course you wouldn't start today," Agatha says. "We're just going to find out what needs to be done, and who he's getting to do it and stuff."

"Oh," replies Thomas, "So, are you gonna volunteer to do things too? I don't think we'll need to slay any dragons." He grins.

"I could clean up after Destre, his horse, I guess," Agatha says, then adds, "I think Richard has been to lots of places. His pets have really foreign sounding names. He calls his dog Kuon."

The kids pass the base of the Sherman Tower to the left, a massive edifice of glass, cement, and steel. It stands some six stories tall and the lobby's glass windows must be ten feet tall, at least. The area is familiar to Tom; his dad works in the hardware store across the street, though that, like most other businesses in downtown Ainigton, is closed today.

Tom says, "Cool! I'm gonna have to ask him all about the places he's been, then. Where's he originally from? Or did you say already? I don't remember."

"I never asked," Agatha admits. "I don't even know what he did before he retired, or his last name -- just that he wanted to learn how to fish, really."

"You didn't ask? Um, I think one of us probably should. After all, maybe he's dangerous," says Thomas.

"Dangerous how?" Agatha asks. "He was nice enough when I met him out by the ranch. Even his dog was friendly."

Tom says, "Well, like what if he bought the old place to bury bodies on it?"

Toby shakes his head. "I think you read too many old books, Tom. This is a small town. If he were dangerous, people'd figure it out pretty quickly." He grins at the younger boy's imagination.

"All the better of a place to hide," replies Thomas.

"He's an old guy," Agatha states, as if that disqualifies him from nefarious behavior.

"And you're in a dress, yet don't act like a girl. What's your point?" asks Thomas

Agatha glares at Tom, and says, "He had trouble fighting a trout, and wasn't even sure how to cut it up. I'm sure an evil murderer would know that much, at least. And I don't have to act like a girl, I am one."

"Don't worry, Tom," Toby assures the black-haired boy. "If I find any dead bodies, I'll be sure to let the police know about it. I'll save the maps and old books for you, though."

Tom just grins widely at Agatha. "Okay, okay, I'll quick picking on you about the dress for now. Besides, I think we're almost there, right?"

Harcourt Manor
This grand old Victorian house off of Webber Way used to be the favorite 'haunted house' of the children, but a few months ago an older gentleman moved in, Richard, who has begun to renovate the place, to their disappointment. Two gables look out from the roof of the two story manor, and vines crawl up the walls, from which plaster has fallen in places to expose brickwork.

His handiwork is visible already, as the stone slab steps and the driveway leading up to the house have been swept clean, and a relatively new pickup truck sits on the carriage circle that surrounds an old moss-covered fountain. Sitting next to the truck are stacks of lumber, a workbench and several trestle stands, and tools of the trade such as saws and planes.

Some of the windows have been unboarded and now are hung with curtains and framed with new glass; these presumably open onto rooms Richard chose to make livable first, and are primarily on the first floor. There remains yet the second floor and then the gables in the roof, which presumably face out from its attic, or perhaps loft rooms. From the front, one can make out little of what might have been done in the garden behind the house, or the gazebo within the garden, much less the stables and fields behind that.

There is much work to be done here, but the sawdust makes the air smell of anticipation. Perhaps the house looks forward to when it will again be a jewel of Ainigton, a place where a man of refined tastes may entertain his guests in comfort and style.

"Wow, I didn't think so much work had been done already," Agatha says once she sees the manor.

Tom stops in front of the manor house. He slowly looks up the front, impressed by the size and how much Richard has already gotten done. "Whoa," is all he manages to say.

Toby looks the place over. "He'd better have someone check the place over for termites and dry rot, if he hasn't already," the older boy says thoughtfully. "Roof looks sound, though. I'd have to have a look inside to see if there's floorboards that need to be replaced, but it looks like he's getting a start on that."

"You gonna be a carpenter, Toby?" asks Thomas offhandedly.

Agatha nods, and heads for the front door. "I guess we should just knock."

"Oh, it's a hobby," Toby replies offhandedly.

Tom follows behind Agatha, peering around her at the door. "Say, does it have one of those 'ugly face with a ring through the nose' knocker things?" he asks.

The front door seems to bear something rather close to that. On each of the twin heavy oak doors, a brass lion's head occupies the place of honor, a ring clenched in its fangs. At least cobwebs have been swept roughly off the eaves above, even if Richard hasn't yet had the house repainted.

"Just lions," Agatha says, and makes use of a brass knocker.

Tom hmms. "You're not lyin' either." He grins.

Toby groans. "Is he always like this?" he whispers to Agatha.

"I hope not," Agatha whispers back. "But mostly, yeah."

"Always like what?" asks Thomas.

The knocker causes a heavy booming to resound from within the house, startlingly loud. After a minute ... there seems to be no response.

Thomas looks about the porch slowly. "So, what do we do if he isn't here?"

Agatha frowns, and says, "He's probably out riding. We could check out in back to see if Destre is around, though."

Tom nods and says, "Lead on, then, o' heroic knight of the realm."

"Who's Destre?" Toby asks.

Tom nudges Toby and whispers, "Her secret boyfriend."

Toby raises his eyebrows. "Is that right?"

"Richard's horse," Agatha says, then lightly elbows Tom in the ribs as she leaves the porch.

"Oof!" says Tom, who then rubs his side. Still, he grins and follows after her.

Agatha follows the garden path around towards the carriage house and stables.

Toby chuckles. "Well, she does like horses better than boys, I guess..."

Around back, the weeds have run rampant with the garden, leaving it a tangled mat of greenery, and rot and twisting vines have caused the gazebo to partially collapse, the roof tilted over several support columns gone broken. The stables face away from the house and onto fields that are thickly overgrown with grass.

There is a loud, excited barking from the distance, near the stables, and then a small running shape creates a moving shadow in the grass as it approaches Agatha and Tom.

"Yike! It's the raccoon thing!" Tom yells. "Oh, wait, I guess that's just Kuon, right?"

"Of course it's Kuon!" Agatha says, waving to what she assumes must be the dog.

Breaking out of the grass, a grayhoundish sort of dog barks up to Agatha and Tom and Toby. Its tail whips back and forth as it trots up to sniff their hands.

Tom extends his hand, palm up, to the dog. "Hello there," he says, "You must be Kuon."

Agatha holds out a hand as well, and says, "If Kuon's here, then Richard must over at the stables. Isn't that right, Kuon?"

Kuon sniffs Tom's hand thoroughly, then barks again. It looks back and forth between the kids.

Tom laughs. "Um, perhaps we should just head over to the stables?"

Agatha looks for a less overgrown route than the dog took. "I guess so," she agrees.

Tom moves through the weeds fairly easily, thankful he's used to such travel. "Man, I bet we could make a killing if we charged to mow his lawn," muses Tom.

The more likely path to the stables seems to wind through the middle of the garden, with the overgrown vegetation hacked away to reveal the flagstones. Evidently this garden has been left alone for quite some time. Kuon trots down the path, then barks near a depression in the path short of the stables.

Agatha follows the dog, thankful for the flagstones. "This garden will take ages to clean up," she comments.

"Over there, I guess," says Thomas. He heads toward that depression.

"Visitors, you say? Well, well." A deep voice comes from the stables as the kids approach, familiar to Agatha as Richard's. The owner of the voice steps out and stands near Kuon, rubbing the greyhound's head as its tail wags cheerily. "Agatha! And you have brought two gentlemen to see me, I perceive. Well met."

Agatha smiles and waves to Richard, glad at least he could recognize her. "I brought my brother Toby to see you, sir ... and this is Tom," she says, introducing them.

Tom nods to the gentleman. "Hello, sir. I hope we're not intruding. I've often wanted to see this place, and tagged along with my friend Agatha. She told me she was heading this way."

Toby puts his briefcase down and sticks his hand out. "Pleased to meetcha, sir," he says.

"Indeed," Richard says as he looks down at the hand, then shakes it. "Well, Tom, I am sure Agatha has already advised you that it would be unwise to wander these halls carelessly. There is much yet to be done in Harcourt Manor. Are you here to offer your services, then?"

"Toby brought some samples of his work," Agatha says. "And it looks like you still need some help clearing out the garden, too."

Tom nods, "She has. I promised I would be careful. Figured it would be great to help out around the place and get a chance to see it. Plus, Agatha said you must've traveled a lot, since your dog and horse have such unique names. If you have, I'd kinda like to hear about the places you've been. If you're willing to talk about it, that is, sir."

"Yes, it could use some work," Richard says with a chuckle. He begins guiding the kids back toward the house. "Come, I am forgetting my manners. Would you like something to drink? I have some lemonade. A neighbor brought it over earlier today."

"Yessir, I'll show you the samples when we get to the house," Toby says, falling in behind. "I, ah, didn't know what you might want, so I made up some light switch covers and handles in Victorian style."

"Sure!" Agatha says, since all that talking and walking has made her thirsty after all. "How did the fish come out?"

Tom nods. "Please."

Richard chuckles. "Oh, I cannot complain of it, but only in that I would be complaining of my own cooking, and a man should not gripe of himself for what he does. I do think that I shall have to see about hiring a cook."

The white-bearded, balding man takes out a key from his pocket, one of several on a key ring that looks like wrought ironwork, and unlocks the back door.

As Toby thumps his foot on the back porch's floorboards, Richard gives him a curious look, at which Toby sheepishly explains, "Just checking for soundness. It's good."

"The basic construction is sound," Richard responds. "But time has not been kind to much of the finer things in the house, nor the rougher-kept buildings such as the stables. This way," he says, and guides them through a house full of furniture draped with white sheets, which has only partially been cleaned so that the air is still full of dust.

"What did you do before you retired, Richard?" Agatha finally asks, wondering how he could have gotten so far in life without being able to cook for himself.

Tom sneezes and looks all around, in awe of the old place. "Wow," he mutters, then casts a glance over to Agatha. He walks over and lightly elbows her, giving her such a look.

The older man chuckles. "I have done many things, Agatha, some of which I am proud, some of which I am not. I gave orders; people followed them, and sometimes they died of them. Other times, lives were saved." Glancing toward the back of the dimly lit house, he adds, "Sometimes I found the time to ride ... and to enjoy the sun in the fields and the shade of the trees."

Kuon brings up the rear, tail wagging.

"You were in the military?" asks Thomas, curiosity getting the better of him again.

Agatha imagines Richard with a saber in hand, leading the charge on San Juan Hill atop Destre ... but he still sounds like a teacher to her.

Richard guides the kids through the dining hall, a vast musty room, the chandelier unlit and thus only identifiable as tiny sparkles of movement in the slight breeze. "I have been," he admits. "Ah! Here we are." He goes to the window and unshutters it, admitting welcome sunlight into the kitchen, to illuminate a modern tablecloth that looks out of place next to ornate old wooden chairs and counters topped with marble tiles. A pitcher of lemonade sits atop the table, dew beaded on its side.

"Agatha, you will find cups in the cupboard," the old man says. "Let me think ... Ah. Another neighbor left a basket with some food, I believe. The people of Ainigton are quite hospitable, I find." He opens the pantry and begins inspecting it.

Thomas moves his hands behind his back and gazes around the room. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have an odd question. Have you perhaps seen any sort of rose and key designs in this old place since you've been renovating?" Tom asks, then nods. "Yeah, this is a very nice town, pretty quiet too."

Agatha nods and finds the cups, which she sets out on the table ... then asks, "Does Kuon want any as well?"

Toby sets his briefcase down next to the table and pulls chairs out so that people can sit. "Here, Aggie."

The girl smiles to her brother and takes the offered seat.

Tom carefully pulls out a chair and settles into it.

"Hmm? Rose and--" Kuon barks. "He would, and thanks you for your courtesy," Richard says to Agatha, chuckling. He pulls out a basket from the closet which smells pleasantly of bread, and contains several small cheeses as well, as is revealed when he sets it on the table and pulls the cloth back to reveal it.

Tom smiles. "Sorry, odd question. Agatha and I found an old trinket that had an odd engraving. I was wondering if it came from this old place." Tom then quiets, feeling embarrassed.

Toby sniffs appreciatively. "Bahhaner's baking," he says. "They must live in this part of town."

Agatha pours four cups of lemonade, then asks, "Can Kuon drink from a cup, or does he have a bowl?"

Richard gestures toward the side of the counter, where there is a bowl and a largish dog dish. "He had better drink from a bowl, I think, dear Agatha, lest I be faced with cleaning up the mess." Kuon barks, as if offended.

Agatha giggles, and goes to pour some of the lemonade into the dog-bowl.

Tom stifles a laugh.

The old man fetches out a knife and cuts slices of bread. It is crusty, but the inside looks fresh. There is butter fetched from the back of the pantry, and there is cheese as well, some of which is soft enough to be spread. He sits and invites the others to dine as well, "Be welcome as my guests here. Now, what is this old trinket of which you speak, Tom?"

Tom starts, "Uhm, well, sir, we found an old flute. It was in an pile of rubble we came across while exploring. Really odd, actually. It had a rose and a key engraved on one side."

Tom says, "We also found an old earring, crescent moon-shaped. Like a gypsy earring."

Toby starts munching cheerfully. "Mm! Thanks, Mister... Uh, what's your last name?" he says around a bite of bread and cheese.

Tom carefully pours some lemonade into his cup and takes a sip.

Agatha spreads some cheese on a slice of bread herself, watching Tom and hoping he doesn't give too much away. "They weren't really all that old, I think."

Richard frowns at this. "Kuning," he says to Toby. "And your surname?"

"Cunningham."

"Ah. You are welcome, Mr. Cunningham. As to the flute and the earring, I cannot say as to what things that might have belonged to the Harcourts." He pauses for a minute, blue eyes studying Tom's green. "I will say that I have seen many old things, and strange things as well, in my time. You would be wise to avoid such places. They may be dangerous in unseen ways as well in the obvious. But if you bring me these things you have found, I may be able to speak more of them."

Agatha freezes for a moment, wondering if Richard somehow knows all about the cave already.

Tom sets his glass down and looks intently at the old gentleman. "May I ask what strange things you have seen, sir?" he asks.

"Pile of rubble?" Toby eyes Tom, then looks at Agatha and whispers, "Where have you been going?"

Richard shakes his head with a laugh, and drinks from his lemonade. "You are a bold one, aren't you, Tom? And not afraid of abandoned places? You strike me as the kind who, shown a door and warned 'Danger lies therein', will kick it open and stride right through it." He raises an eyebrow as if to dare Tom to say otherwise.

"Just out by the Hill," Agatha whispers back. "Not near the junkyard or anything."

"And you found stuff there?" Toby shakes his head to Agatha, as if familiar with the area. "Maybe someone lost it or something."

"I'm that obvious?" asks Thomas, still looking back at Richard intently. "I want to see the world and explore what's out there. Fear is mainly not knowing. Once you explore and see it, there's usually little left to fear. At least that's how I like to see the world."

"Well, of course someone lost it," Agatha whispers. "Just don't know who or when yet."

Richard strokes his beard thoughtfully. "A philosopher, too! Remarkable in one so young." He turns his gaze toward Agatha. "Are you of like mind with your friend here, my dear?"

Agatha blinks and sits up straight, running the past few moments back through her head. "Well, within reason. I believe in caution and being prepared ... and keeping an open mind about things."

Tom takes a sip from his cup. "Well, I guess. My dad used to be in the military. I guess he's rubbed off a bit on me," explains Tom. He then looks at Agatha. "Within reason? You think I've been a bit unreasonable, then?"

Richard eats bread, getting crumbs in his beard, and listens curiously.

"Well, I think going off alone into the unknown is unreasonable," Agatha says, and nibbles on her bread some more.

Tom samples a piece of bread. "Why?" he asks Agatha.

"Because, if something happens, who'll be there to help you?" Agatha points out. "And if you do find something ... well, it's just better to have more witnesses."

Toby adds, "You should be careful out there. Sometimes people fall and break their legs in those caves, and if no one knows they're gone, well..." He grimaces, then drinks lemonade -- perhaps reversing the way one is supposed to do it, though the lemonade is certainly sweet enough.

Agatha blinks at her brother, and asks, "What caves? You aren't talking about the old mines are you?"

Toby rolls his eyes at his sister. "I can put two and two together, sis."

Tom shrugs. "And that's why you're careful and explore anything slowly. You don't just barge in. You take slow and careful steps, and if things look unsafe, back out."

Agatha blushes hard enough to almost match her hair.

Tom looks down at his cup. "Plus, there are no such things as monsters and ghosts. As I keep telling you."

"Don't worry, I haven't told Dad," Toby assures Agatha. "He'd start keeping you in to the point you'd think I was the one who got to have all the fun. I trust you to play it safe; I taught you about camping out, after all."

Agatha turns her attention on Tom, and says, "Oh really? Then why'd you think Kuon was a monster when you first saw him coming?"

Tom takes a drink, then looks at Agatha. "No, that's me listening to you and Alice too much," he retorts.

"Ha, it's also unreasonable to dismiss the unknown," Agatha says.

Richard raises an eyebrow. "There are monsters, and there are ghosts, but they are sometimes hard to recognize. They wear disguises much as you and I might wear masks; it takes a keen eye to see past them."

"A foul heart may wear a fair face after all," Richard says.

"This isn't a fantasy world, Agatha," Thomas starts to say. The then turns back toward Richard, looking intently at him again.

Agatha nods in agreement with Richard. "Just like faeries. You can't trust them."

Tom shakes his head slightly and bites into another piece of bread.

Richard gestures to the house. "Many things in here we might think quite ordinary. To someone who had grown up here, they might evoke memories: painful ones, sweet ones, of life or loved ones. Memories have a power of their own. Sometimes, we might even speak to the remembrances of our loved ones as if they could hear us." He chuckles and shakes his head. "Ah, but you are young, are you not? You have not had to deal with loss."

"Ever hear of Avarre, sir?" asks Thomas out of the blue.

Agatha goes quiet and touches the locket hidden by her scarf.

Toby's eyes darken as he looks into the distance. "No, I know what you mean, sir," he says. He glances over to Agatha as well, then reaches over to put a hand on her shoulder.

The old man looks lost in memories for a bit, then blinks up at the black-haired lad -- an eyebrow raised, a questioning look on his face. "Should I have, young Tom?"

Agatha smiles to her brother, and breaks out of whatever mood she was in.

Tom shrugs a bit. "Heard the name somewhere. On the radio, I think. It's been pinging around in my head, so I thought I'd ask. Perhaps it's from a story or something and I caught the tail end."

"A not-so-little bird told him, actually," Agatha says.

Tom kicks Agatha under the table lightly.

"Oh, that's right. That trained bird we ran across that one day. Forgot," adds Thomas.

"I see... Well, allow me to make you all an offer, since you have been so kind as to humor a forgetful old man," Richard says. "As you can see, there is much to be done on this old house. If you would aid me, I believe I may be able to offer you some small recompense. Say, fifty cents a week?" He glances toward Toby. "And I regret it if it seems that I have been purposefully neglecting your own craft-work. Please be assured that it was entirely accidental! If you would be so kind as to show me your work?"

Toby is happy to do so, and opens up his briefcase to take out a number of nicely carved, though as yet unveneered woodworking specimens. Richard looks them over, occasionally inquiring into the reasons for choosing this or that design element. None, fortunately for Tom's inquisitiveness, bear a rose or key as part of their designs.

Agatha ponders the offer, and mentally goes through her after-school schedule while she finishes her cheese-bread.

"I'm interested, sir. What would we do for you?" asks Thomas.

"Well, these are fine specimens, indeed; I would be willing to pay you by the piece as well, for whatever needs replacement," Richard assures Toby, then turns to Tom.

He gestures about the house. "There is Destre and Kuon to be taken care of, there is the gardening work to be done, there are rooms to be dusted and aired out, and places where the rotted floorboards must be removed, so that we can put new ones in. There are windows to unboard, new windows to be placed where the frame is broken, or panes to be fitted to frames. There is much heavy woodworking to be done as well. I should think there is a plenitude of work for us all, young Tom."

Tom finishes his lemonade and nods. "There certainly is, sir. I'd have to check with my parents and see if it's okay with them first."

"I can help with Destre and Kuon," Agatha offers. "I've helped groom and clean out stables before. Dusting are housecleaning are familiar too, and I can pull weeds as well."

"I expect that there may be a great number of things that belonged to the former Harcourts," Richard adds. "They came with the house. While the unneeded will be given to charitable organizations, if there is a piece or two that you consider interesting..." He shrugs. "Though most of the furniture will stay, of course. I shall be glad to speak with your parents, should they seek reassurance."

Toby nods. "Sounds great to me, sir!"

Tom nods. "Sounds great to me too. It'll be a pleasure to get a chance to see this place and help restore it. I'll talk with them and if they want to talk to you, I'll stop by after school and let you know."

The old man smiles, nodding to Tom, and raises his glass. "A toast to, ah, Harcourt Manor then?"

Tom raises his glass. "Shouldn't it be Kuning Manor now, sir?"

Agatha lifts her glass as well. "To ... the Manor then."

"Harcourt Manor," Toby toasts.

Richard smiles. "To the Manor." He drinks his glass down.

Tom nods. "To the Manor." Thomas then downs the last couple drops in the cup and sets it back on the tablecloth.

Richard smiles. "I'll expect you all then ... tomorrow afternoon, isn't it? A school day?"

Agatha nods. "I can come by for a few hours before I have to do my own chores and homework."

"That's fine with me, Mr. Kuning," Toby says. "The school's pretty close, even." He must be referring to the high school.

Tom nods. "I should be able to as well. I usually do things after school, before dinner, anyway. My parents don't mind that. I'll clear it with them tonight."

"Well, then, I'll need to straighten the place out enough that I can feel safe that you will know where all the places to be careful are," Richard says as he stands, pushing his chair back. "Thank you for honoring an old man with your company, my friends."

"Thank you for a nice afternoon," says Thomas. He then adds, "And thank you for putting up with my silly questions. Sometimes I do let my imagination run a bit too much."

Kuon barks cheerfully.

Agatha snickers at Tom. "Imagination? And here I thought it was just your mouth." She then blushes a bit, and says, "It was our pleasure, Mr. Kuning."

Tom glares at Agatha, but says nothing.

Richard adds, "Kuon, I believe, will look forward to your return as well." He shows the kids to the front door, where they can see that the parlor next to the foyer has been dusted and the furniture put into some semblance of working condition, to judge from the comfortable chair in front of the fireplace. A stack of books -- new ones -- sits next to the chair. The old man pulls the doors open, unbolting them and then pulling the handle back. "Take care!"

"Thanks again for the lemonade and snacks," Agatha says as she steps outside. "If you want, I'll show you how to cook fish next time you catch one too."

"That would be most helpful," the old man says with a chuckle.

Tom smiles up to the gentleman. "Yes, thank you for the lemonade and such. It was a pleasure meeting you." The boy then steps through the doorway. He turns and looks back at Richard, green eyes locking on him, "And should you ever meet a bird named Ryland, sir, tell him I said 'hi'?" Thomas grins impishly and waves. "Have a pleasant evening."

Richard raises an eyebrow. "Indeed," he says, and then as Toby shakes his hand and steps out, he closes the door quietly. Kuon's parting bark goes muted.

Toby looks over at Agatha, then thumbs toward Tom. "Where'd you find this guy?" he asks.

Tom shrugs. "What?" he asks.

"I think he fell out of a tree," Agatha says.

"When he was how old?" Toby grins and hefts his briefcase again. "We'd better get back home. Dad will be back by now and wondering where we went."

Tom eyes the two and glowers. "Anyway, yeah, I should be heading home too. I've still got a few things to finish for school tomorrow," he says.

Agatha pats Tom on the back. "At least you can tell your folks you'll be getting paid to get dirty."

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.