CHAPTER 4

When Baartock and Mrs. Jackson walked out to the parking lot, Mr. Fennis was waiting beside his car.

"Ready to go home, Baartock?" asked Mr. Fennis.

"Go home now," answered Baartock, and he started to walk away. "Baartock! Come back here!" Mrs. Jackson's voice stopped him and he

turned around.

"Not go home now?" asked Baartock.

"We're going to take you home, but we're not going to walk. We are going to drive in the car."

Walking home was exactly what Baartock had planned to do. Then he had an idea. "Don't like car. You drive. I walk," he said.

"No. Now please get in."

"You'd think he'd never ridden in car until today," commented Mr. Fennis as he got in and closed the door. "He became positively wild when I drove him to school."

"Well, he'll behave this time, won't you Baartock. You just sit quietly while we take you home."

"Sit," said Baartock unhappily.

Mr. Fennis started the car, and Baartock started to jump, but he saw Mrs. Jackson watching him. So he just sat and looked even unhappier.

The ride this time seemed much quicker for Mr. Fennis, since Baartock wasn't jumping around in the car.

"They must live in Donald and Phyllis Howard's old house," he said as they drove down the country road. "I found him just down the road from their driveway."

"I didn't know anyone had moved in there," said Mrs. Jackson. Just then Baartock exclaimed "Home!" pointing up the hill.

"Can we use the driveway instead, Baartock?" said Mr. Fennis. "I don't want to walk up the hill, even if you do have a shortcut." He drove on down the road a little further, then slowed even more as they came to a mailbox and a dirt driveway.

"That's funny. The 'For Sale' sign's still there," said Mrs. Jackson. Out

in the middle of the corn-stalk stubbled field was a weathered sign, 'Farm For Sale - Crow Real Estate'. "This is the only house up here. They must have just not taken the sign down yet."

Baartock sat in the back seat and didn't say anything. Mr. Fennis turned the car onto the driveway and started up the hill. This dirt road did go near his family's cave, but he never used it. Trolls almost never use roads unless there are bridges, and the bridges are to live under or hide under.

The driveway went up the hill, between the field and the woods. It didn't look as though a car had been on it for a long time. The grass growing in the middle was quite tall, and the bushes growing next to the road needed to be cut back. They scraped the side of the car as they went up the driveway. And there were a lot of holes that needed filling. Mr. Fennis was driving slowly, but the car still raised a cloud of dust behind them.

Up near the top of the hill, the road turned away from the woods, toward a grove of trees and the old frame house almost hidden in the trees. "Home over there," said Baartock, pointing back into the woods, as Mr.

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, pushing 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 fashion. 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 principal 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."