wandered south through the countryside, going from town to town, having many adventures, and meeting a number of interesting and fantastic people. But there was an aim to his wandering, a purpose, as there was to everything he did. He had learned many of lifeâs lessons in the past year, and now hoped to expand his understanding of the nature of the world even more by attending a college. He heard of a city called Auburn where such a college existed. It was to this town he traveled.
He arrived there of an evening, tired and hungry, and found a room in the home of an old woman who took in borders. She fed him and gave him a bed in which to rest. He slept for three days and three nights, and when he awoke felt strong again, clear in mind and body. Thereupon he thanked the old woman for her assistance, and in return offered to help her in any way he could.
Well, it so happened the old woman had only one eye. The other eye, which was made of glass, she took out every night and soaked in a cup of water on the nightstand beside her bed.
And it so happened that, some days before my father arrived, a group of youths had broken into the old womanâs home and stolen her eye, so she told my father that she would be grateful if he could but find her eye and return it to her. My father made a vow then and there that he would do it, and he left her home in search of the eye that very morning.
The day was cool and bright, and my father full of hope.
The city of Auburn was named after a poem, and it was, at that time, a great center of learning. Young people eager to know the secrets of the world crowded into small classrooms, alert to the words of the peripatetic professor before them. This is where Edward longed to be.
On the other hand, many came there merely to fool around, and organized in large groups for this purpose alone. It didnât take long for my father to learn that it was one of these groups that had broken into the old womanâs home and stolen her eye.
Indeed, the eye had become the focus of some notoriety, and was discussed openly and with great veneration among certain individuals Edward Bloom shrewdly befriended.
It was said the eye had magic powers.
It was said the eye could see.
It was said to be bad luck to look directly into the eye, for the old woman would know you then, and on a dark night she would hunt you down and find you, and then she would do unspeakable things to you.
The eye never stayed in the same place twice. Each night it was given to a different boy as a rite of initiation. It was the boyâs duty to see that no harm came to the eye. All that night the boy possessing the eye wasnât allowed to sleep; he could only watch the eye. The eye was wrapped in a soft red cloth, and the cloth was placed inside a small wooden box. In the morning, the eye was returned to the leader of the group who asked the boy questions, and who examined the eye and then sent him on his way.
All this Edward learned in a short time.
In order to return the eye to the old woman, Edward realized, he would have to become one of the boys who possessed it for the night. This is what he sought to do.
Edward expressed his desire to become one of the boys to a new friend and, after a moment of circumspection, was told to come alone to a barn some miles in the country that very night.
The barn was dark and crumbling, and the door creaked spookily as he pushed it open. Light from candles hung from black-iron holders played on the barn walls, and shadows danced in the corners.
Six human figures sat in a semicircle toward the back of the barn, and all were wearing dark brown hoods, which appeared to have been made out of burlap.
On a small table before them was the old ladyâs eye. It rested like a jewel on top of a red silken pillow.
Edward approached them fearlessly.
âWelcome,â said the one in the middle. âPlease be seated.â
âBut whatever you do,â said another, quite
Katie Mac, Kathryn McNeill Crane