Chapter Seven
Uncle Orville stamped the snow off his boots and came into the sugarhouse. “We have enough light to make one more trip through the sugarbush. Douglas, you and Scot can come along and help.”
The boys put their skimmers down and Douglas leaned close to Scot. “If we can find the tree where we woke up this morning, maybe we can get back that way. Let’s go.”
Scot said, “How are you going to do that? There’s hundreds of trees.”
The boys rode Mike and Ike back into the sugarbush. Uncle Orville pointed at the horizon and boomed happily, “Look, up there! A maple sugar moon’s comin’ up.”
Scot and Douglas looked in the direction he was pointing. The round edge of a gold-red moon was rising over a ridge. Douglas said, “What’s a maple sugar moon, Uncle Orville?”
“The best sight in the world during sugaring time. It means we’ll have a clear night. Clear nights are cold nights. For sap to run, the temperature has to get below freezing at night. In the morning when the sun warms up the tree, the sap runs again. As soon as the weather changes and it doesn’t freeze at night, the sugar season’s over.”
Scot said, “Sugaring sure is a lot of work.”
“That it is, but it’s almost all we got since the crash. You can depend on the maple trees because no matter what, the sap will run every spring. Sugar maple trees don’t care what the government or the stock market says. Sugarin’s hard work, but that’s how we make our way. We don’t live fancy, but we don’t have to stand in line askin’ for food like they’re doin’ in the cities, either.”
Scot and Douglas clung to the horse collars looking up and admiring the moon. Douglas said, “When we get to the tree, we have to get off and figure out how to get back to Grandpa P.”
As darkness fell, the boys collected sap and emptied their gathering pails into the collecting tank. Scot said to Douglas, “How will we know which tree was ours? They’re all starting to look alike.”
“Yeah, but I’ll know our when I see it. I just have to find the right clue.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
Douglas grinned widely. “I am. Try to guess the clues.”
Douglas examined each tree as they collected sap. Scot worried that they wouldn’t find the right one, but Douglas didn’t seem concerned.
Uncle Orville pulled two lanterns out from his toolbox on the back of the sled, lit them, and hung one from the horses’ harness between Mike and Ike and the other on the end of a pole he set up above the back of the collecting tank.
Uncle Orville stopped the sled again and as the boys hiked up the bank, Douglas said, “This is it. Keep walking around to the back.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” He led Scot around to the back of the tree out of sight of Uncle Orville. They set their gathering pails on the snow near the tree.
Scot looked around. “What do we do next?”
“Well, we talked to Grandpa P by putting our hands on the tree, so let’s try that.” They put their palms on the tree and waited. Nothing happened. “Maybe we have to talk to it.”
“Okay.” Scot said. He leaned hard against the tree and said in a low voice, “Grandpa P, we’re ready to come home now.” Silence.
“Let’s say it together,” Douglas suggested. “On three. One. Two. Three.”
“Grandpa P, we’re ready to come home,” they said together. Still nothing.
Scot felt panic creeping up on him. “It’s not working! What are we going to do?”
Douglas scratched his chin and said, “I know. Let’s do the same thing we did inside Grandpa P when we came here from Montana.”
“That’s a good idea,” Scot said.
They sat shoulder to shoulder on the ground and leaned against the bark, which was still warm from soaking up a day’s worth of sunshine. “Douglas, what if this doesn’t work?”
“Shhhhh. Be quiet, close your eyes and relax.”
A warm drowsiness gently began to cover them. Sounds in the sugarbush faded, and they felt lighter and lighter, drifting away…