'I turn away and shout to my crew, 'Hoist the sails.'
'The sails rise, catch the offshore breeze and fill out. Our gallant ship turns gently and moves gracefully out of the cove. We are on our way home.' *** The Little Old Man slowly stands. He is stooped, and leans on his cane with both hands. He looks tired and a little sad.
'That is the end of the story,' he says. 'I recall that the voyage across the sea was stormy, but we did reach the other shore safely. The Princess was happy to be back with her mother and father, whom she loved and who loved her and they had indeed missed each other very much.
'For many years afterward the Princess enjoyed baking bread and rolls for her father and mother and for friends who came to visit. In time, she married, and baked for her family. Every day, before dinner, she and her children carried baskets of bread and rolls and other foods from the castle and gave them to her people. The people all loved the Princess as much as she loved them.' *** The Little Old Man slowly straightens and waves his cane at us. We all stand.
'Good-bye, good-bye,' he says. 'The sun is low in the sky. It is time for you to return to your campsites. I will see you all again another time, and we'll all go on another voyage across stormy seas to strange lands and strange people, and even stranger Things. Good-bye, good-bye. I wish you well.'
The Little Old Man turns and, leaning heavily on his cane, goes into his tiny hut and closes the door. The story of the Princess's escape from a land of enchantment has ended. *** We hike back to our campsite. It is late evening when we arrive. We have a quick supper and slip into our sleeping bags.
'This was really a good vacation,' I say to Suzanne. 'Tomorrow morning we'll sail back to our home at Three Palms. I'm glad we're going home, because next week we start school.
Suzanne is sound asleep. *** And so these stories of Suzanne and Roger at Three Palms are finished. We stand and stretch. A gull swoops in from the sea, lands, and pecks about among strands of seaweed that had washed on to the shore. It is late afternoon.
Leaving the beach we head for our homes. At the top of a low rise we stop to look back. There, against the background of blue ocean and darkening sky the fronds of our three palms wave gently in a soft and gentle breeze.