The Hen Who Called the Canoes

At Marsh Lake Canoe Hire, every boat came home on time. Nobody knew why. The tourists said the lake was friendly. The owner said it was good business. Only Joss and the owner knew the truth.

The truth sat on the counter, next to the cash box. It was an egg timer. It had the shape of a tin hen. She had a small beak and a small key in her back. When Joss turned the key, the hen ticked. When her time ended, she clucked three times. Then every canoe on the lake turned toward the dock. It felt as if a rope pulled it home.

Joss was sixteen, and this was his first summer job. He loved the hen. He loved how gently the canoes swung around. No tourist ever felt it. But he told nobody about her. The owner asked him not to.

Well, he told almost nobody. He told Yaw.

Yaw was Joss's best friend. He came to the dock every afternoon. He ate sunflower seeds and gave advice. He did not believe in magic. "A timer is a timer," he liked to say. "Tin is tin."

On Friday, the owner drove to town at four o'clock. "The last hire goes out at half past four," she said. "Wind the hen carefully. She is older than both of you."

"I always do," said Joss.

When she was gone, Yaw laughed. "You are so serious about a toy."

"She is not a toy."

"Show me, then. Wind her up. Let me see the great magic."

Joss wanted to prove it. He took the key and turned it. He turned it again, and again, harder each time. He wanted the hen to be loud for his friend. Then something inside went snap. The key spun round in his fingers with nothing to stop it.

"Oh no," said Joss.

"What?"

"I think I broke her spring."

Yaw stopped chewing. "Is that bad?"

Before Joss could answer, a family came down the dock. A dad and two small children wanted the last canoe. They wore orange life jackets. "One hour, please," said the dad.

Joss forced a smile. He set the hen to one hour, and the key spun uselessly. She did not tick. But the family was already in the canoe. They pushed away from the dock. Joss hoped for the best.

An hour went by. The sun sank lower and turned the water to gold. At half past five, the hen made a sound. It was not a cluck. It was a tiny click, like a mouse sneezing.

Out on the lake, the canoe did not turn. It floated near the trees by the island. The dad stood up and waved. One of the children dropped something in the water. It was the dad's paddle, and it slid away across the water.

"Uh-oh," said Yaw.

"We have a problem," said Joss.

He ran to the end of the dock. He rang the big brass bell. The sound rolled out over the lake. The dad waved again. He thought it was a greeting. The canoe went on drifting slowly toward the island.

"Plan B," Yaw said. "I swim out."

"It is far, and the water is cold."

"Plan C. You fix the hen."

"I can't. The spring is broken. Only the owner can fix it." Joss pushed both hands into his hair. "The dock closes at six. They will soon be in the dark."

They looked at the tin hen together. She sat silent on the counter, with her small beak shining.

Then Yaw said slowly, "You told me the hen calls the canoes. Right?"

"Right."

"But what makes her call them? Is it the hen? Or is it the end of the time?"

Joss was silent for a moment. He never thought about that. All summer he believed the magic lived in the tin. But maybe the magic lived in the sound. Maybe it lived in the moment a clock said, time is over.

"A timer is a timer," Joss said softly.

"Exactly. Say it with me."

They ran to the kitchen behind the dock. On the shelf above the sink sat three more timers. There was a plastic tomato with a loud beep. There was a yellow chick that went ding. And there was a small wind-up pig that squealed like a gate.

Yaw grabbed the pig and the chick. Joss took the tomato. They ran back to the end of the dock. They stood side by side. They twisted all three dials to one minute.

For a short time, nothing happened. The lake lay flat and shining. The family drifted. A bird cried far away.

Then the tomato beeped. The chick went ding. The pig squealed, and it went on squealing. All three made their noises together in one wild, silly noise.

Out on the water, the canoe shivered. Then slowly, it swung around. Its nose pointed straight at the dock. It began to glide, quietly and smoothly. No one paddled.

"It works!" Yaw shouted. "It really works!"

The dad sat very still in the middle of the canoe. His mouth was open. The two children cheered. The canoe slid into the dock. The smaller child pointed at the timers.

"We heard chickens!" she said happily. "And a pig!"

"And a tomato," said the other child.

The dad climbed out and looked at Joss. He looked at the lake. He looked at the three small timers. "Thank you," he said at last. "I think." He took his children by the hands. They walked away along the dock. Twice he looked back over his shoulder.

When the family was gone, Joss sat down hard on the dock. His legs felt like water. Yaw sat beside him. He put the pig, the chick, and the tomato in a row.

"So," said Yaw. "I was wrong."

"A little."

"Only a little." Yaw picked up the tin hen and looked at her closely. "What do we tell the owner about her spring?"

"The truth. Mostly." Joss took a deep breath. "And tomorrow we ask her to fix the hen."

Yaw grinned and shook the pig until it squealed. "Next summer," he said, "we buy a whole farm of timers."