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"It's all right," I said. "I'm sure Troy will want to walk by himself soon anyway, right Troy?" He nodded and studied me closely. I saw a fear in his eyes, a fear that I would drop him and ignore him. "Maybe Troy can tell me

about things and show me things too. Can you, Troy?" He nodded. "Okay, we're ready."

Tony laughed again and he and Momma led us out. Perhaps no room in the big house was as impressive as the dining room. It was as big as a banquet hall with the longest table I had ever seen. While we were there, the cook came out of the kitchen and Tony introduced him to us. I could see Tony was very proud of him. He had discovered him on a trip to New Orleans and brought him back to be his personal chef. His name was Ryse Williams and he was a very warm and happy black man who had a way of speaking that made his words sound like music. He promised to fix us "a lunch so special, our stomiks wouldn't stop thankin' us fer days."

My arms got so tired I thought they might have stretched several inches and I put Troy down for our walk up the marble staircase. He was anxious for me to see his room. All the bedrooms upstairs were really suites, each with its own sitting room. Troy's sitting room was so filled with toys, it looked like a toy store.

"Hasn't your mother told you about my business?" Tony asked, seeing my astonishment. I shook my head. "You mean, she didn't tell you you were going to see the king of the toy makers?" He and Momma looked at each other as if that were a private joke. I shook my head again, confused by both the conversation and the amused looks between Momma and this intense, handsome young man.

"Why would she call you king of the toy makers?" I asked while Troy went to his pile of toys to pick out something special to show me.

"It's how we've built our fortune," he said. He saw the way my eyes widened with interest and he smiled, a small tight smile . . . amused. "I can see you have been a deprived child, not to have ever been given a Tatterton Toy. Jillian, you should be ashamed of yourself," he kidded.

"Please, I have enough trouble getting her father to buy her the proper things for a young girl," Momma replied archly. Tony and she stared at each other for a moment as if they had discussed this before and then he turned back to me.

"Our toys are special, Leigh. They are not ordinary toys made of plastic. What we make is really meant for collectors, for wealthy people who cannot grow up and forget they are no longer children. Perhaps some still regret their memories of being poor when there was barely anything under their Christmas trees or anything for their birthdays.

"Do you see the castle with the moat there?" he said, pointing to the far left corner of Troy's bedroom. "That was handmade by one of my craftsmen. If you look closely at it, you'll see the detailed work. Each toy is only one of a kind, so each is special and valuable. Those who can afford it set up their own kingdom, you might say."

I walked over to look at the castle.

"There are even tiny people, servants, peasants, lords and ladies!" I exclaimed. "Are all your toys so perfect?"

"Yes, they are, or I won't let them be sold." His velvet sleeve brushed mine as he stepped beside me and I caught the rich scent of his expensive cololgne and after-shave. "And we make games too, but games that are so difficult they keep the best minds intrigued for hours and hours." He looked at Momma again and they smiled at each other as before, like they shared a private joke.

Rich people tend to get bored faster. Some of them are always bored, and that's when they turn to collectibles, be they antiques or my toys. There are people in this country who have so much money, they don't have the time to spend it. I provide them another outlet, a place to find fantasy.

"If you came with me to one of my toy shops, you'd think you were stepping into a fairyland. In my stores people can enter any time period they desire, be it the past or the future. We find they are more interested in the past. Maybe they're afraid of the future," he concluded philosophically.

I stared at him. He spoke about his customers as if they were to be pitied. I didn't think he really respected them, and yet, they provided the income for him to keep up this magnificent estate.

"See," Troy urged and pulled on my skirt. I looked down to see him clutching a metal fire truck almost as big as he was. All the parts on it were movable and some were detachable. The small firemen had faces molded and painted in such detail, each had a distinctly different look. Troy pressed a button and a siren went off.

"That's wonderful, Troy," I said. "I bet you have so much fun with it."

"Wanna play?" he asked.

"Leigh can't play with your toys right now, Troy," Tony explained. "We're taking her on a tour, remember?"

He looked heartbroken.

"We'll play later," I said. "I promise, okay?"

He nodded, his hope revived.

From his room we went to the other suites, each more luxurious and larger than the last. All the sitting rooms were fully furnished with restored nineteenthcentury pieces, some looking as if they had never been used. There was artwork everywhere, too. The bathrooms were big and ornate with brass fittings and tubs as big as small pools. There were mirrors everywhere, which made the bathrooms and the bedrooms look even larger.

Momma and Tony Tatterton walked ahead of us when we went outside to tour the grounds. They spoke so low when they talked to each other, I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I probably wouldn't have heard anything anyway because of Troy. I held his hand as we walked along the pathways through the landscaped gardens and lawn toward the pool and cabana, and he began a remarkable monologue for a little boy his age. Once he had warmed up to me, he revealed just how precocious he was.

"Boris the garden man is going to make little trees grow there," he said pointing of to the right where two grounds men were working. "The flowers are dead, but after the winter, they'll be more and more 'cause Boris says he's going to plant more different ones this time.

"He's the boss of the maze, too," Troy said, obviously very impressed with that.

"The maze?"

He pointed off to my right and I saw it. The walls of hedges looked twelve or thirteen feet high at least.

"How far does it go?" I asked.