Chapter One (part c)

Jennifer and her mother stepped back from the front porch and looked up. A small window was open at the very top of the house just under the roof. A somewhat rumpled and raggletag man looked down at them. It was a little hard to see him by the erratic light of the afterglow, but it seemed he had just been interrupted in the middle of something important and wanted very much to get right back to it again as soon as he could.

"Sorry," he called down. "I don't need any today.;,

"Need any what?" asked Jennifer's mother.

"Whatever you've got," the man said and then all of a sudden he seemed quite interested. "What have you got?"

Jennifer's mother looked a little confused.

"Just some suitcases," she called up.

"Nope, can't use any of those," said the man. He popped his head back in the window again and disappeared.

"I don't think he knows who we are," said Jennifer.

"But he should," said her mother. "Walter sent him a letter I just the other day saying when we'd arrive."

A window on the second floor suddenly whooshed open.

"Still here?" asked the man, poking his head out again.

"Yes we are," said Jennifer.

"So am I," he told her.

"You are James Jasper Moffat?" asked Mrs. Jones.

"The same."

"My name is Amanda Jones," explained Jennifer's mother. "I'm your granddaughter. From Vancouver."

"My what? From where? Impossible!" said Moffat and he popped his head back inside the window and closed it.

Jennifer and her mother waited for a moment and watched all the windows carefully. Nothing happened.

"What if he won't let us in at all?" asked Jennifer.

"Don't be silly, I'm sure he'll let us in," said her mother, but from the way she said it, Jennifer could tell she wasn't really all that sure.

"Maybe we better go back to the train," said Jennifer.

"Maybe we better just knock again," said her mother.

She went back up onto the porch. Jennifer followed. None of the animals were anywhere in sight.

'Maybe the man's disappeared as well," she thought.

But he hadn't. Suddenly the door flew open, then bam! - it slammed against the wall of the hall inside sending echoes rumbling back through the house. Then all at once James Jasper Moffat appeared in the open doorway like a bolt of lightning that had somehow arrived just after the thunder instead of just before. Perhaps not a lightning bolt. Perhaps not that. But there was definitely something quite electric about him all the same.

He was tall and thin and parts of him stuck out at odd angles so in a way he did look a little bit like lightning, at least at the elbows. Perhaps a lightning bolt had passed close by and brushed him briefly with its energy. The old bathrobe he wore had numerous holes and his long silver hair was mussed and tangled. His eyes were sharp and extremely green, and they seemed to sparkle with an unusual energy. Although he was easily seventy or more, he was balanced in such a lively way-on the balls of his feet and bouncing slightly that he gave the impression of being much younger. He looked very active just standing still. It was easy to believe that he was about to do something.

"Granddaughter?" Moffat demanded. "My grand-daughter? Why I haven't seen my granddaughter in 30 years!"

"It has been a long time," agreed Mrs. Jones. "We moved out west when I was two. Don't you remember me?"

"Remember you?" said Moffat. "Of course I remember you but what good is that if I can't recognize you?"

"I guess I have changed a lot," laughed Mrs. Jones.

"Yes," agreed Moffat. "You don't look the same at all." He smiled and then looked over at Jennifer. If you're you, and I'm me, then who is this? Someone else I presume?"

"That's my daughter," explained Mrs. Jones.

"Your daughter? Great-Grandmother Moffat! If she's your daughter then she must be my great-granddaughter!" cried Moffat and he looked quite pleased with the idea. "Well, call me a cantaloupe and scoop me out! Come in why don't you, come in!"