Nana Ana's Secret Hideout

Chapter 5 - The Path Never Taken (Unless You Have a Talking Panda)

Attempting to read over his friend's shoulder, Eirik fairly strangled the panda cub to keep it from thrashing. "What's it say?"

Swallowing, Anders thumbed open the card. He read it with a glance and straightened instantly, eyes darting about for someone who might be hiding. 

"What?" 

Anders showed him the handwritten line: 'Keep your back straight.' Nana... It's like she's watching me. "She couldn't leave a helpful note?" 

Eirik smiled. "Wouldn't be her style." 

"No. No, it wouldn't. Listen, Melissa," he said, turning. "Thank -." 

The sweater woman had disappeared; the door was closed; the panda had gone as limp as a fluffy bath towel over Eirik's arms, crying quietly for Melissa. 

*          *          *          *

The road became dirt and pine needles, or perhaps was so dusty with disuse that it appeared unpaved. Upon sight of a meek wooden bridge, Anders' grip tightened on the steering wheel and Eirik sat a little taller. Without a word they held their breath until the Land Rover cleared the other side. 

The chatty panda cub glued its eyes to passing scenery, nose smudging the passenger window. "You should've brought rain coats and swim floaties," it said to no one in particular. "Strange things will happen before we reach the bungalow. Here, boy, stop here." 

Anders parked the vehicle by a cluster of dead trees and killed the engine. Climbing out, Eirik set the cub on the ground. The bear immediately bounded across the road and into the wood; the men looked both ways out of habit and followed. 

"Our Nana is a celebrity," said the bear, proudly. "She created  legend. You see, she enchanted the land around the bungalow with unnatural natural phenomenon to ward off uninvited guests because, as you recall, her biggest annoyance was unannounced guests. What in heaven's name is an 'unnatural natural phenomenon,' you wonder. Well, a downpour of water is a natural event. A downpour of pennies is not. Neither are tornadoes made of yarn or tomatoes." 

"Yarn?" Eirik scoffed as he stepped over a felled tree. "Can we collect it and sell it? Isn't yarn big business?" 

The bear agreed. "She's done that on more than one occasion. Mostly she turns it into socks an mittens." 

Raining pennies. Anders scanned branches overhead for bits of blue peeking through. What kind of umbrella do you use for that? 

A sudden whistle-like noise snagged his attention but it ceased abruptly before he could pinpoint the source. Neither the bear nor Eirik showed any sign of hearing it.