The Legend of Butterfield Farm

Chapter One

CHANGE CAN BE such a rude party crasher. When you are happy and twelve years old, steady as she goes is just fine, thank you. A switcheroo is the last thing you want in your I-love-it-just-the-way-it-is life. But hey, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. And in the interest of avoiding a spoiler alert, let’s move on.

It was a beautiful afternoon in Barboursville, Virginia. Holly’s last bell of the sixth grade had just rung a few minutes before. It signaled the start of her much-looked-forward-to summer.  

Tall for her age, she was dressed in a white billowy skirt and a robin-egg-blue blouse, her long hair held neatly in place with a blue headband. She observed her world through wire-rimmed glasses. They magnified her brown eyes and made her look as smart as she was. 

Holly thought the goofy-looking man wearing an orange Elmer Fudd hat with dangling earflaps was making faces and waving to someone behind her.  He was driving an enormous moving van, unlike the more family-friendly vehicles picking up their little ones.

As her schoolmates poured out of the building, most saying their good-byes until next fall, Holly’s closest and dearest friends Claire and Melissa gave her a hug and confirmed plans for getting together soon. The three of them had lived within a few houses of each other on Willy Miser Lane for practically their whole lives. 

“Hey, Holly,” said Claire. “We’ll meet you for swim practice this Saturday, like at eight, okay?” 

“I’ll be there for sure,” said Holly. “We’re going to kick some you-know-what in the Junior Swim League.” 

“For sure,” said Melissa, at which point she and Claire spotted their respective rides. Holly watched them leave and did not notice her freckle-faced, little redheaded sister on a collision course with her.

Not that Henna was hard to miss in her colorful polka dot top, scotch plaid skirt, and purple tennis shoes. Skipping along, swinging her E.T. backpack to the rhythm of a happy tune in her head, Henna knew exactly where her big sister stood but pretended not to see her. Wham! She almost laid her out with a body slam. It didn’t quite knock her over, but it did succeed in rearranging Holly’s glasses and headband—the glasses at an odd angle off one ear, resting on her chin, her headband forcing a shock of hair straight up like an erupting hair geyser.

“Oh. Hi, Holl,” said Henna between giggles. “I didn’t see you there.” Her sly smile revealed two missing front teeth. “Mom’s late, I guess, huh?”

Holly began putting herself back together. “If you don’t mind, please stop bumping into me like that. It’s getting really old. The first time, yeah, it was kind of amusing. But it’s only funny once. Now, after the gajillionth time, it’s just irritating.” She had her glasses back in place and the headband somewhat readjusted, but the hair geyser was still erupting.

Trying to stifle her glee but failing, Henna said, “Honestly, I didn’t see you there.  I swear.”

Holly wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Like I really believe that,” she said. There would be no reasoning with her ponytailed little sister. She turned her attention again to the lineup of cars arriving in front of the school. Her eyes skipped over the big moving van with the waving, dorky-looking man inside.

Holly and Henna were expecting their mom’s dark cherry Subaru station wagon, but the honking horn of the moving van drew their attention. The silly man in the dangling earflaps hat was beckoning them to come to the truck. 

Henna flashed a big smile. “It’s Dad.”

He removed his cartoonish hat, leaned across the cab, rolled down the window, and shouted, “Come on, you two, it’s me. Get in. I’ve got a big surprise for you!”

Holly’s mouth hung open. “You’re right.”

With his hat off, Wayne Steward revealed his familiar buzz-cut. A family vote had determined this method of dealing with what little hair he had left. Doing a comb-over only got one vote. When needed, Henna did the honors with his electric razor.

Holly and Henna gave each other a look, as if to say, “Oh boy. What has our oddball dad done now?”

Wayne leaned over again, this time to open the passenger door for his girls.

Henna cheerfully climbed into the cab and asked, “Are we helping someone move?” 

 “We’re moving,” he said.

“Cool,” said Henna.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Holly. She hesitated outside the truck. “Tell me this is another one of your weird jokes.” She wouldn’t put it past him that he rented this van just to pull a prank. But when she checked his eyes, looking for the glint that always showed right before he said he was kidding—no glint.

No kidding.

No joke.

Oh no.

The words she read off the side of the truck hit her harder than her sister just did. HOME IS WHERE OUR MOVING VAN MOVES YOU. Holly took a deep breath as she climbed into the cab and braced herself for an uncertain future.

“Where are we moving to, Dad?” asked Henna.

Before Wayne answered, he flashed a big smile, put the ridiculous hat back on, merged the moving van into traffic, and turned west on Highway 33 heading toward the Blue Ridge Mountains. 

“It’s a beautiful farm,” he said, “with a big log home full of really cool antiques, and it’s very close to your cousins, Gordon and Cy.”

“We’re moving near Aunt Leeza’s? Awesome!” said Henna as she enthusiastically put her hand up for a high five.

Dad slapped her hand on cue. “Dude, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

Holly looked out the window. “But what about our friends, our school, the swim team, the—”

“Who cares about that stuff,” said Henna. “We’ll be in the country on a farm.  This is great.”

“It’s great for you,” Holly said. “You don’t have any friends—except for your imaginary ones.”

Henna stiffened. “I know they’re not real. They’re characters in my fairy tale books, and they’re always with me, because I bring my imagination with me wherever I go. Mom says I’m not crazy, so quit saying I am.”

“You said it, not me.” Holly turned her attention to her dad. “Where’s Mom?”

He flipped the visor down to block the afternoon sun. “She’s at the new house doing some cleaning and organizing. The previous owner left in a hurry, and the place is a mess.”

“I can’t believe Mom agreed to this without talking to us and taking a family vote. It’s not like her.”

Wayne reached over Henna and squeezed Holly’s shoulder. She pulled away.

“Look,” he said. “I know this move is coming as quite a shock to you, honey, but your Mom is really impressed with the place. It’s only a little more than an hour’s drive from here. Plus, she’s happy you’ll be near your cousins.”

Holly didn’t react to her father’s attempts at comforting her. She was sure that her life had been shattered to pieces and ruined.

Wayne flicked on the left blinker and turned onto Route 29 South heading toward Charlottesville, where they would turn west and travel another thirty miles or so to their new country life in bucolic Nelson County.

After traveling in silence for a few miles, Wayne tried to lighten the mood in the cab by engaging his button-nosed redhead. “Henna, I know how much you love climbing trees. The new place has one you won’t believe. This tree’s a real doozy, I tell ya.”