Giggleswick: The Amadán Map

Chapter Four: The Big Decision

Chapter Four: The Big Decision 

The Bisbys’ next door neighbors waited patiently till 7:55 a.m. the next morning before phoning to demand that the fallen tree be removed from their yard immediately.

“Why, yes, Mr. Lewis,” Mrs. Bisby spoke into the phone, “we’ll have it taken care of as soon as possible.” 

From the breakfast table, Elliot could hear every word that was hollered back at his mother. “See that you do! Half the neighborhood will be here for my daughter’s birthday party this afternoon. That squirrel house better be off my property by noon!”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Lewis,” said Mrs. Bisby as nicely as she could manage. There was a definite click on the other end of the line, followed by a dial tone.

Mr. and Mrs. Bisby then spent the better part of an hour trying to figure out how they could possibly move a fifty-foot tree from the Lewis’s yard in just a few hours. They had no money with which to hire a professional, and it would be way too heavy to move themselves. 

Mr. Bisby finally decided he would have to hope that the rusty old chain-saw in the garage still worked. He’d inherited it from his grandfather years ago, but it had sat collecting dust ever since.   

“Well, I’m off!” said Mr. Bisby, heading for the garage in his usual Bisby Dogs tee-shirt and khaki shorts. He had become quite adept at tottering around the house in his cast without the help of crutches and insisted that he was quite capable of operating a chainsaw on a bum leg. “I’ll just need a hand once I’ve got the thing in pieces,” he said, pausing at the door. “Oh, and Nora –– why don’t you give him a call.” 

Mr. Bisby left through the back door, and a few minutes later Elliot and his mother heard the labored sounds of antique machinery as the saw gagged and sputtered, needing much coaxing before it finally consented and roared to life. 

Mrs. Bisby looked like she could have done with some coaxing herself as she paced in front of the telephone, throwing Elliot an uneasy glance or two. “I suppose I should get on with it,” she said to him, not sounding at all certain. Still, she reached for the phone book they kept above the refrigerator and began skimming the “L’s” for the Lord Camden House. After locating it, she spun each of the phone-number digits slowly round the rotary dial. 

The phone rang three times and was then answered by an overly sulky receptionist. “I’ll put you through, ma’am,” Elliot heard her grumble when Mrs. Bisby told her with whom she wished to speak, and after another three rings, the call was answered.

“Good day! Wally Noodle here,” bellowed a jovial sounding fellow. He’d spoken so loudly that Elliot had no trouble hearing every word.

Looking as though she felt rather foolish, Mrs. Bisby said, “Erm ... Mr. Noodle, this is Nora Bisby. I’m calling about the letter you––” 

“My dear, how delightful! Though I had begun to wonder what was taking you so long!” he said smartly. 

“My apologies, Mr. Noodle, we had a bit of a––” Mrs. Bisby contemplated the best word, “busy day here at the house yesterday.” 

Elliot sat gnawing a piece of toast, listening intently to every word of the conversation as his mother invited Mr. Noodle over for tea that afternoon. The man accepted the invitation with so much enthusiasm that Elliot thought he might jump right through the telephone. 

“We’ll look for you around one o’clock then,” said his mother, now quite cheerfully. 

“You are a dear, Missus Bisby!” sang the man. “See you in a jiffy!”