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By Root 508 0

the other side of the trees there, but that her grandma didnt really live there, she lived far away in a hotel for people who took medicine for their heads. Her daddy was fixing screens on the windows because they were selling the house. She told him that when Daddy was done, they would visit Nana Laura Lee, who lived down by the lake in a faded pink trailer with a hundred bird feeders outside. Nana Laura Lee loved birds. Laura Lee had a white submarine in her yard that was actually a propane gas tank, but ever since Suzy was small, she believed it was a special private submarine for exploring the bottom of the lake. Laura Lee was a little crazy, thats what Suzys daddy said, but Suzys mom explained that everyone was really a little crazy once you knew them.

Even Suzys own mom and dad were crazy, she guessed. They had played in these woods as kids. The pile of rotten boards was once a stage where Mommy had been a crocodile and Daddy was Peter Pan.

The policeman was still talking to her, asking her how often she came out to the woods, how old she was, what grade she was in, if her daddy knew where she was. One of the men in a green-and-tan uniform called to him.

Sergeant Crowley, we found something!

And the sergeant named Joe went over, walked through the circle of men and eager barking dogs, got down on his knees, and peered into the hole that had been covered by the wood the men had pulled away.

Call forensics, he said. I want the whole team out here. And rope this area off! Now!

The baby mice squeaked for food, for their mama, and Suzy told them to hush, there were dogs around. She got out of the Impala, hopping over the door that had been stuck closed for years, and snuck up behind the men. She got down on her hands and knees, peered through the legs of one of the men, and saw something down in the holesome old clothes, dirty, red, and torn; and just when it was coming into focus, just when she saw it had eyes, it had teeth, and scraps of hair, Sergeant Joe was swooping her up, saying this was no place for little girls, asking her to point to where her daddy was, saying not to be scared, that he was going to take her home.

JUNE 5, 2006

RHONDA FARR HADtwo Peters in her life: the Peter she loved but could not have, and now the white rabbit, which she, not unlike Alice in Wonderland, seemed destined to chase down the hole. But Alices rabbit was not named Peter. The only Peter Rabbit Rhonda had known was the one in the storybook by Beatrix Potter, a common brown rabbit with a white fluffy tail, who just couldnt stay out of poor Mr. McGregors garden.

On the other hand, Rhondas Peter Rabbit was Ernestine Floruccis rabbit: all white and, as she would tell the police, about six feet tall.

A rabbit? the state troopers would ask, hands poised to scribble notes in black pads. Six feet tall? Are you sure?

Though the police were skeptical, Ernestines mother, Trudy, believed Rhondas story; she believed her but refused to forgive her.

The lives of Ernestine, Trudy, and Rhondamaybe the lives of everyone in Pikes Crossinghad changed forever in about three minutes. The time it takes to soft-boil an egg.

IT WAS WELLpast Easter when Peter Rabbit appeared to Rhonda, swooping away little Ernestine. It was the fifth of June, and Rhonda had pulled into Pats Mini Mart to fill her tank so she could make it to a job interview in Burlington that afternoon. She was running late, but she needed to stop, there was nothing in the tank but fumes. She also thought she might see Peter. Rhonda had been nearly out of gas all weekend, waiting until today to stop, because she knew Peter would be at the garage.

Visiting him before the interview, even just a quickHey, hows tricks, Ronnie? would give her a little jump start. She avoided his house because then shed have to make small talk with Tock, come up with some excuse for stopping by, and, most painful of all, Suzy would come out and circle around her, jumping up and downa cherubic reminder of the futility of Rhondas situation.

It was a perfect early-June