When the five of them rounded the house, they finally saw what Lucas had spotted through the window the day before.
There was a patch of ground out back, though the grass had grown so high that its edges were hard to make out.
A few planting rows still held their shape, but weeds had filled the spaces between them.
Beyond the plot stood a crooked fence with several rails missing.
One section swayed whenever the wind blew.
Arthur stood at the edge of the plot and studied it.
“Someone used to grow things here.”
“You can tell.” Lucas pointed to a shallow track near his feet.
“This must have been the path between two rows.”
Clara peered out from behind her father.
“Can we still grow things here?”
“We’d have to clear the weeds first,” Arthur said.
“And then?”
“Loosen the soil.”
“And after that?”
“Plant something.”
“What?”
Arthur looked down at her.
“Did you and Lucas agree to take turns asking me that?”
“No,” Clara said.
“I just want to know if we’ll have anything to eat before lunch.”
“We won’t,” Theo answered for him.
“Anything we plant now will take time to grow.”
“I know.” Clara turned to him.
“I was asking if Dad has another idea.”
Arthur caught her meaning.
He pointed farther away, toward a patch of low shrubs with taller trees rising behind them.
“Let’s look around first.
We might find something.”
“We might not,” Lucas said.
“Could you let me have a little hope?”
“Sure.” Lucas nodded.
“Go on.”
Helena held back a laugh and went to inspect the fence.
Several posts had come loose.
When she gave one a gentle push, the whole section leaned farther outward.
“Arthur, keep the children away from this part.”
Arthur came over, took a look, and picked up a length of wood from the ground.
He wedged it beneath the fence to hold it in place for now.
“I’ll have to fix it later.”
“One more thing to repair,” Clara said.
“You can put it on your list.”
“My paper’s in the house.”
“Then remember it.”
“I already have.” Clara pointed at the fence.
“It comes after the table leg.”
They followed the edge of the overgrown plot.
The children’s legs were short, and the ground was littered with dry grass and stones, so Arthur and Helena had to slow down.
Clara started out quickly, but before long her foot caught on a clump of grass.
She caught her balance, glanced down, and walked around it as though nothing had happened.
Theo had seen her.
“You nearly fell.”
“I didn’t fall.”
“I said nearly.”
“I didn’t nearly fall either.”
“Watch where you’re going.”
“I am.”
She had barely finished speaking when she stepped on a loose stone.
This time Clara didn’t argue.
She kept her eyes on the ground for a while.
At the far end of the plot stood a low shed.
Only half its door remained in place; the other half leaned against the wall.
Arthur told the children to wait outside while he went in first.
“What’s in there?” Clara called.
“Nothing,” Arthur answered from inside.
“A few planks, that’s all.”
Helena went in to look.
A narrow gap ran across the roof, but the ground in one corner was dry.
The shed could still keep out some of the rain.
Arthur lifted a plank that was leaning against the wall.
It was rough around the edges, but the wood was sound.
“This might do for the fence.”
“Leave it for now,” Helena said, glancing toward the doorway.
“The children are waiting outside.”
Arthur set the plank down and came out.
He tried to pull the half-door shut behind him, but it stuck halfway.
He lifted it, tried again, and gave up.
“The shed door needs fixing too,” Clara said.
“Yes.”
“Where does it go on the list?”
Arthur looked at her.
“You’re really keeping track?”
“Of course.”
“After the fence, then.”
Clara counted on her fingers.
“The table leg is done.
Fence second.
Shed door third.”
“What about the cupboard door inside?” Theo asked.
“Fourth,” Clara said.
“Please stop reminding me.”
Behind the shed stood a few fruit trees.
Their trunks showed signs of having been pruned, though the branches had since grown wild.
Lucas tipped his head back and spotted several small green fruits high among them.
“There’s fruit.”
Clara hurried to his side and looked up.
“Can we eat it?”
“Not yet,” Helena said.
“We’ll see what it is when it ripens.”
“How long will that take?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara stared up at the branches for a while, then sighed.
“Everything edible around here needs us to wait.”
Arthur found a few fallen fruits beneath the trees.
He picked one up, but it was still small and had already gone bad.
He put it back in the grass so none of the children would pick it up to eat.
Farther on, the ground sloped gently downward, and the grass was greener than it had been around the plot.
Arthur parted the blades and felt the soil underneath.
“It’s damper here.”
“Where’s the water coming from?” Helena asked.
“Let’s go a little farther.”
Lucas took two steps and heard water.
It was a faint sound beneath the rustle of leaves, easy to miss unless he listened closely.
“There’s water over there.”
Arthur heard it too.
He took Lucas’s hand while Helena held Clara’s and Theo’s.
Together they pushed through a stretch of long grass and found a narrow stream below the slope.
The water was shallow and flowed slowly between the stones.
The banks were soft with mud, with plenty of grass growing along them.
Clara’s eyes brightened.
“So we don’t have to split last night’s water five ways?”
“We need to check whether it’s clean,” Theo said.
Arthur didn’t go straight to the water.
He found a flatter spot and crouched to study the stones in the stream and the way it ran from upstream.
“We’ll boil it before we drink it,” Helena said.
“We’ll need a bucket to carry it, too.”
“I think there’s one inside,” Arthur said.
“Behind the door.”
“Does it leak?”
Arthur paused.
“I didn’t check.”
Clara looked from the stream to her father.
“You’re about to make me add the bucket to the list, aren’t you?”
“I haven’t said it leaks.”
“You haven’t said it doesn’t.”
Lucas looked upstream, then back toward the farmhouse.
It wasn’t far, but carrying a full bucket along that path would be too much for any of the three children.
“One of you will have to fetch the water,” he said.
Arthur nodded.
“Your mother and I will come back for it.”
Clara looked up at once.
“What about us?”
“You’re coming too,” Helena said.
“We’ll all go back for the bucket first.”
They didn’t stay long at the stream.
Arthur made a point of remembering the easiest path, then led everyone back the way they had come.
By the time they reached the plot, Clara had slowed down, though she was still talking.
“I think the fruit trees count as good news, even if we can’t eat anything yet.”
“So does the stream,” Lucas said.
“What about the plot?”
“That depends on whether we can get anything to grow.”
Clara looked up at Arthur.
He blinked.
“What?”
“I didn’t ask what we’d plant this time.”
“I know.”
“I was just checking whether you’d thought of something.”
“…Not yet.”
Helena finally laughed.
She bent down and picked up Theo, who was walking the slowest, while Arthur took Lucas and Clara by the hand.
The grass, the old shed, and the stream were behind them, and the plot was still full of weeds.
But when they got back inside, they would at least have a few more things to add to their list.
As they walked, Clara counted them under her breath.
“One patch of ground, one shed, a few fruit trees, and a stream.”
“And a fence that needs fixing,” Lucas added.
“I wrote that down ages ago.”