6

  Bee-bee survived awful, horrible, terrible nightmares. At first, Ham had grown to be as large as a sloop. That was fine, of course, until he took her on a walk. His gigantic paws crushed buildings and people and cracked all the cobblestones; and she was responsible! Worst of all, he stepped on the bakery shops and ate everything in sight, leaving nothing for her.

  Not only did she have to pay for all the damage they had caused, she had to employ Nova to resurrect all the dead in their wake by turning them from pale bodies to colorful, lively humans. Nova was incredibly livid, and he charged her so much that it became a new type of currency. She’d never pay it off. Ever!

  In her nightmare, when they finally returned home after their awful, horrible morning, Bee-bee found that Olive and Arthie and she and Ham were locked out of the rathskeller. They jiggled the doorknobs, and then they peered through the rathskeller windows.

  Inside, ravaging the place, stomping on the tables, tossing flour around, wielding a bucket of sloshing tomato sauce, and laughing maniacally was the fish-bear sneak-thief!

  Tom pies were shooting out of the oven, and the monster gobbled them all up. Ham was barking, and Bee-bee closed her eyes and shook her head.

  Ham barked and barked, and Bee-bee awoke to his breath and his barking. The nightmare had taken a toll on her, for her limbs and neck felt stiff, and she felt like she’d slept on the floorboards of a sloop.

  “Oh Ham,” she said. “You’re regular sized!”

  Bee-bee wrapped her arms around him, and Ham scooted back to help her up. Bee-bee realized how much he’d been growing. He felt a smidge bigger than yesterday! She’d never grown as fast as he was growing, and goblins did grow quite fast. What a powerful Ham!

  “I know, I know,” she said after Ham whined and trotted in place. “Walk time; let’s go.”

  It took a moment for Bee-bee to clear the blear from her eyes. Then she saw the shafts of morning light beneath the windows.

  “We’re late!” she said. “Come on, Ham! It’s gonna be a short walk today. We’re going to rush. We’ll walk longer tonight!”

  Dressed and harnessed and leashed, they burst out of the rathskeller and hurried down the street. They barked back and forth, and they pulled each other, and they stopped every once in a while to fuss over some smell or other, and they looped through a manicured neighborhood. Ham nipped at the bees that wrestled the bounty of flowers, and Bee-bee warned Ham not to mess with them. She knew from experience what bee stings could do. Not fun!

  The walk was much too short. When they returned home, Ham galloped around the shop. Bee-bee was amazed by how much energy Ham had. He placed his snout upon each low table one by one and sniffed like he was looking for something.

  “I’m on it,” said Bee-bee.

  Ham barked at the oven. Each bark was strong enough to scoot him backward.

  “Yup, yup!” said Bee-bee.

  The shadows of legs walked along the rathskeller floor and over the tables. Humans were already here for tom pies? She hadn’t yet baked a single one! At least they weren’t pressing their faces to the panes and staring at her. She didn’t appreciate it when they did that. How rude.

  Bee-bee tangled her apron strings together, and with washed hands she rolled out dough, then ladled tomato sauce, and then shoved her tom pies in to bake. This time she thought to bake at least thirty tom pies. It was the weekend, after all.

  All those tom pies needed somewhere to sit, so she filled all the tabletops with hot tom pies. Ham meanwhile laid down by the door which led into Olive and Arthie’s house. Bee-bee flung open her front door, equipped her open sign, and greeted the hungry humans.

  Boy was she busy, she thought. Never in her whole life had she said hello to so many humans. Never had she received so many pleases and thank yous from humans either. Never had she been so worried over either!

  “Any luck finding your Tom?” said a woman.

  “Still missing,” said Bee-bee.

  “I’ll be sure to keep an eye out.”

  “I saw one of your signs as well,” said a man. “That’s going to go a long way. I’m sure someone will find him soon.”

  “Where did you lose him?” said a woman.

  “Here,” said Bee-bee. “Right inside. I turned my back for one moment.”

  Humans clicked their tongues and shook their heads.

  “Poor little Tom,” said a young man. “I do hope he’ll be all right.”

  The young man paid for his two tom pies topped with red peppers. He seemed to give her a hopeful smile, and Bee-bee did her best to return it.

  The next in cue said, “Six tom pies, please.”

  “Six!” said Bee-bee.

  Humans were ordering more than usual. Oh, she had to bake a whole lot more! Okay, let’s go!

  Bee-bee slipped down the stairs, and she prepared even more tom pies. Once again, between greeting and selling to customers, she filled the low tables with tom pies. Ham was up at that point, and he perched his snout upon the edge of a table which held eight tom pies.

  Bee-bee hobbled up the steps, took another order, and returned to find that the table with eight tom pies now only had six. She gasped. What? What-where-what-how?

  “Ham!” said Bee-bee. “The sneak-thief! He’s here! Help me find him!”

  She armed herself with her tom pie paddle, and she scoured the rathskeller. Ham, with his big glossy eyes and madly wagging tail, seemed very, very happy to follow her around. He licked his lips, he burped, and he seemed so happy that he pranced beside her. The last time he had been this happy was when the first tom pie had been stolen. Perhaps the idea of tracking down a sneak-thief appealed to him. Such a dutiful Ham!

  Bee-bee found not a single sign that the sneak-thief had been through. How was that possible? Oh, he must be using magic! How unfair!

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  Bee-bee pulled her ears down, and she stomped a foot. This was too much for her to handle. The sneak-thief was good—too good! He was evading both her and Ham’s detection. If even Ham couldn’t notice the sneak-thief, how could she ever hope to catch it?

  Ham sniffed the air. Burning dough alarmed Bee-bee. The hourglass reserved to measure bake time was motionless. With a gasp, Bee-bee fetched the tom pies from the oven. One of them had burned along one side, and she had to remake the whole thing.

  “I’m so behind!” she said.

  Ham barked at the burnt tom pie on the table.

  “Yup, yup!” said Bee-bee.

  With a few more tom pies in the oven and the hourglass inverted, Bee-bee transported a couple up the stairs.

  “Keep an eye out!” she called to Ham.

  Under the bright sun at zenith, an old man held out a long flat basket with a runner folded longways in it. “These must be mine,” said he.

  “Yours,” said Bee-bee.

  “By the way young lady, I adore your signs. Clever marketing! You have the whole burrough talking about you!” He winked. “Hope you find your Tom soon!” With that he hobbled off.

  He had winked at her. Bee-bee didn’t quite know what to make of his tone. Was he mocking her? What a rude old man! What did he think—that a missing tom pie was unimportant? That she was making it up? How dare he! It was now three tom pies gone missing to the same sneak-thief! Didn’t he know how dire her situation was? Ptooey on him! By Peg-tooth, if he ever wants another tom pie, he’s gonna have to make sure he calls her a lady again. That was actually quite nice! Never had Bee-bee seen herself as a lady before. Lady Bee-bee. What a nice ring! What a nice old man he was to say such a nice thing!

  “Excuse me,” said a young lady. “I’ve been waiting awhile, how are mine coming along?”

  “Oh, I burned it,” said Bee-bee. “Burned it pretty bad. Real bad. I had to make another one. Should be ready in a little time.”

  “Oh. Oh. All right. Well, I don’t mind a little burn, just so you know.”

  Bee-bee dashed down to the rathskeller. How bad was the burn? The young lady might find it acceptable. Now where did she put it?

  “It was right here,” said Bee-bee. It had been right beneath her finger where she pressed the tabletop.

  Ham burped as he waddled over to their bedding by the door to the rest of Olive and Arthie’s house. He lay down, and let out a hefty sigh, which sounded to Bee-bee like he was defeated.

  “Oh, no!” said Bee-bee. “The sneak-thief again!”

  “Hello?” Someone called from the top of the rathskeller stairs.

  Bee-bee smacked her own face and gulped viciously. Too many things were happening all at once. Humans were waiting on tom pies! She couldn’t deal with yet another sneak-thief attack right now! Argh!

  From then until lunch, Bee-bee found herself in a constant run. She ran from the oven, to the tables, to the humans waiting up the stairs, to the oven, to the shelves, to the hourglass, to the oven, and every once in a while over to Ham to pet his big round belly. He’d heave a sigh and settle himself deeper into the bedding.

  All the while, up until even her last customer, almost every human sympathized about her missing tom. It did give her hope that she might recover that tom pie one day, and perhaps the rest of them. Maybe.

  Probably not today! Bee-bee’s day had only just begun. She was even further behind, and she needed to prepare for the dinner rush. Oh, and Ham needed another walk! Oh, she didn’t have time!

  If there was one thing Bee-bee hated the most— above all, more than anything else, first and foremost—was to ask for help. Oh, how it made her skin crawl! So with a mix of as much humility and charm as she could present, she approached Olive.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “Ham needs to go for a walk, and he said he wanted you and Arthie to be the ones to take him out today.”

  “Everything all right?” came Arthie’s echo, followed shortly by the old man.

  “We didn’t hear you leave for your morning walk until it was quite late,” said Olive. “Are you behind and now too busy to take him?”

  “No. I’m just very busy today.”

  “You need someone to walk Ham?” said Arthie. “I’ll take him! I’d love to.”

  There it was. Bee-bee didn’t exactly ask for help. After all, Arthie offered to take Ham for a walk. What a perfect outcome. She’d told the old couple that she would take care of Ham all by herself, and there was the proof. Yup, yup; back to work!

  Bee-bee tangled her apron strings around her waist once more. She prepared dough, boiled tomatoes and herbs, and inverted hourglasses. Just when she had a moment to breathe and to fix wayward tendrils, knuckles knocked on the rathskeller door.

  “Opening for dinner, Bee-bee?” said Tovin the regular.

  “Yup, yup!”

  Oh, yes she was! Lots of tom pies ready to go! Bee-bee darted her gaze about the rathskeller. She squinted at the shadows, she listened for tip-tap footsteps, she checked under tables. There was not a single sign of the sneak-thief fish-bear.

  Bee-bee bumbled about, bounced from customer to oven, and managed an eye to her hourglass as best as she could. She felt she did an excellent job, despite having made a mistake. Reanald, a new customer, had asked for a tom pie topped with basil and sliced pepper-sausage. Why Bee-bee put sliced apples and birch syrup, she had no idea! So it lay to the side, forgotten.

  At the peak of the dinner rush, enough humans amassed that their voices bounced down in the rathskeller. She was quite far behind with her work, and she chewed her lip. Her stomach growled, and she began absentmindedly devouring the cold and forgotten apple and birch syrup tom pie. She didn’t think twice about it, for she worried with all her heart that an attack from the sneak-thief would put her impossibly behind.

  “Classic tom pie, coming up!” said Bee-bee as she fetched one from the oven. She kept it on the paddle and charged up the stairs to a great commotion.

  “Here is your tom pie,” she said, and slid the pie off the paddle and into a young couple’s waiting flat basket.

  Curious about the commotion, Bee-bee followed the humans to the street. Cheers erupted. Hands clapped. It was quite the ruckus, and Bee-bee dashed between everyone’s legs to the street.

  “Is that Tom?” someone said.

  “You did it! You found him!”

  “Someone get Bee-bee!”

  “Wow, what a handsome good boy!

  “Where’s Bee-bee?”

  Bee-bee popped into the street. Between rows of applauding customers and neighbors, who must have just come out of doors, was Arthie led by a trotting Ham. Ham looked so pleased with his reception.

  “What’s going on?” said Bee-bee, for she felt as confused as Arthie seemed to look.

  Ham beelined for Bee-bee, and Arthie stumbled after him.

  “Well, Bee-bee,” said Arthie. “Whatever you’ve done, they’re clapping for Ham.”

  Oh, what a wonderful thing to clap about. Bee-bee smacked her hands together, because—ho!—Ham was most certainly something to clap about!

  “He’s so great!” said Bee-bee, shouting against the din. “The best!”

  Ham knocked her over, and he licked her chin, and Bee-bee struggled to get up, and everyone was laughing with what sounded like endearing laughter, and Bee-bee was so happy to see Ham. Humans were so right to celebrate Ham. Or was it his charisma at work? Ho, what a powerful dog!

  Ham barked at her.

  “Yup, yup,” said Bee-bee. “Got a ton more tom pies to bake! Wanna help?”

  Ham bolted for the rathskeller, and Bee-bee sprinted after him. Feeling rejuvenated with Ham at her side, Bee-bee skipped around the rathskeller while she prepared tom pies, baked tom pies, and sold tom pies. Ham was attached to her at the skip—for he was bounding along with her.

  “I made a mistake while you were gone,” she said. “I made an apple tom pie with birch syrup! We’re gonna share it.”

  For the rest of the day, the humans were overjoyed about Ham. They called him Tom so many times, and Bee-bee grew so weary of correcting them that by the twenty-fifth time he was called Tom, Bee-bee simply nodded and muttered. She had been working all day! She didn’t have energy for this! Whatever.

  The crowd of customers slowed to a trickle. The trickle slowed to a drip, and suddenly, Bee-bee found herself switching her open sign out and closing the door.

  “What a day!” she said.

  Ham sat beside her, he shifted from front paw to front paw, and then he tilted his head.

  “Yup, yup,” said Bee-bee. “Time for that apple slice and syrup tom pie!”

  Bee-bee frowned as she walked among the tables, searching. Where was it? She knew she had put it aside. What happened? She gasped.

  “Oh no! The sneak-thief!”

  During the commotion, when she’d been lured outside, the sneak-thief must have attacked.