Chapter Nine:
Dear Aunt Sally
After a short walk, we arrived at a large white house with a green tin roof. The grass around the house was dark green and thick. Flowers of all shades and sizes framed the front porch. A white picket fence surrounded the small yard, and a short gate opened to a walkway leading to the porch steps.
“Here we go.” I opened the gate and stepped onto the walkway. I had only walked about three steps when I stopped to listen.
“Scott! Phyllis!” A woman’s voice could be heard above the bark of dogs and the sound of passing cars.
As I turned to the brother and sister, Scott spoke up. “That’s our mom. We’d better go. Let us know if you find out anything.” He stepped closer to me and spoke in a whisper, “And I’d like to hear the whole story about this treasure and the other clues.”
I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. “Um, sure,” I said as they turned to leave.
When they were no longer in sight, I turned to Jamie, disappointed not only that I wouldn’t get to spend any more time with Scott, but also that Jamie and I were going to have to face Great Aunt Sally alone. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah! Let’s do it!” he replied.
We walked the rest of the walkway and across the front porch. I held up my hand to knock, but before my knuckles reached the door, it swung open.
In the doorway stood a woman who looked to be about the same age as Pop-Pop. She wore a thin cotton robe that resembled a patchwork quilt. Her gray hair was curly on the sides, reminding me of a clown. The front of her hair was pulled back and held tightly against her head by a wooden clothespin that stood straight up on the top of her head. To keep from laughing, I looked to the floor. It didn’t help. The robe ended just below the lady’s knees, leaving the rest of her thin pasty legs bare. On her feet she wore bright orange rain boots.
“Well, what do you want?” she asked, eyeing us closely.
I swallowed the laugh that was threatening to escape and looked her in the face. It was difficult to maintain my serious expression when I could hear and feel Jamie giggling beside me. I jabbed my elbow in his side.
“Hi, I’m sorry to bother you,” I whispered. “We were just looking for Sally, um, actually, I don’t even know her last name.”
The woman leaned against the door frame. “I’m Sally. What can I do for you?”
Jamie had quit laughing and now had his complete attention focused on her. “You mean you’re our great aunt?”
“Great aunt? What’s he talking about?”
“You see, we’re here visiting our grandfather, Ed Patterson. He said he had a sister named Sally who lived nearby, and some friends of ours said that this was where she lived. Are you that Sally?”
The woman looked thoughtful for a minute and then began nodding. “Ed is my brother, so I guess I am your great aunt, but just call me Aunt Sally. That ‘great’ makes me feel old. You must be Abby and Jamie. I remember now that Ed told me you were spending the summer with him. I haven’t seen you kids since you were babies. Well, don’t just stand there. Come on in.”
When we entered the house, the first thing that caught my eye was the large fish tank in the entryway. The tank was the size of a small go-cart, but it was not the tank itself that captured my attention. It was the contents. A yellow rubber duck bobbed on the surface of the clear water. A tan dog washcloth puppet sat on a rock in the back right-hand corner. Dozens of other bath toys floated in the water or lay unmoving on the floor of the tank.
“What happened to your fish?” I asked, pointing to the enormous tank.
Aunt Sally turned from the closed door and walked over to look into the aquarium. “They’ve grown so much. I hardly recognize them anymore.”
Jamie and I exchanged glances. “Who’s grown?”
“Why, the fish,” Aunt Sally replied.
I stared into the tank once again. Unable to see anything other than the bath toys, I asked, “What fish?”
Aunt Sally giggled and indicated the tank. “The fish in there, Silly.” She pointed to a small blue boat floating upsidedown on the surface. “This one is named Bert. He’s my favorite. And this one,” she said as she extended her finger toward a rainbow-striped horse that was somehow suspended halfway between the top and bottom of the tank, “is Ernie. He’s a lazy fellow. He hardly ever moves from that spot.”
Jamie and I looked at each other again, each mouthing the words, “Bert and Ernie.”
“Well, come in and sit down. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
As she led us to the living room, I couldn’t help but notice the mismatched furniture, the odd lamps and paintings, and. . . “Is that a kangaroo?” I asked, pointing to a medium-sized animal bouncing in the middle of the room.
“Oh no, dear,” she replied. “That’s Joey. He’s a wallaby. It’s like a kangaroo, only a lot smaller and sweeter. But be careful—he does like to box with you sometimes, and he has a mean right hook.”
Jamie and I made a wide circle around the jumping figure. The wind that was created from his swinging tail was nearly enough to knock me down.
“Wow, a wallaby,” Jamie said. “That’s a weird animal to have as a pet.”
Aunt Sally sat on the plaid couch and indicated with a sweep of her hand that Jamie and I should join her. “I love unusual pets. I always have. I’m sure you’ll see some of my others wandering around in a little while. In fact, here comes Fluffy now.” She pointed toward the kitchen, and Jamie and I turned our gazes to follow her outstretched finger.
I nearly fell off the couch. The creature coming toward us had to be the ugliest thing I had ever seen in my life. The shape of its body was that of a long, skinny cat, but the resemblance stopped there. This animal had no fur, and it’s brown skin reminded me of Mom’s favorite leather coat. Had the animal not been moving, I would have guessed that someone had killed it, skinned it, and left in the sun to dry. As it drew near, Jamie and I both leaned away from its evil stare.
“What is it?” Jamie asked in horror.
Aunt Sally laughed and reached down to pick up the creature. “It’s called a Sphynx. It’s a rare breed of cat.”
I knew my mouth was hanging open, but I couldn’t help it. I shook my head to clear the jumbled questions and asked the first one that popped to the surface. “What happened to it? I mean, where’s its fur?”
Chuckling again, Aunt Sally replied, “It doesn’t have any. That’s what makes it so unique.”
Jamie’s mouth was moving up and down, but no sounds were coming out. He inched closer to me and further away from Aunt Sally and the animal whose eyes now seemed to be glowing.
“Um,” I cleared my throat. “If it doesn’t have any hair, then why did you name it Fluffy?”
My aunt shrugged her shoulders. “It seemed like a good name to me.”
Jamie had managed to regain his voice. “So what other unusual animals do you have?”
“Well,” Aunt Sally said leaning back onto the couch. “You’ve met Joey and Fluffy, so that leaves Houdini, my hedgehog, and Tinkerbell, my skunk.”
Jamie leaned and whispered in my ear, “More like Stinkerbell.”
I snickered, then bit my tongue. It was all I could do to swallow my comments and smile at the lady before me holding the now-grinning Sphynx. (Can cats grin?)
We spent the next hour asking questions about Aunt Sally’s choice of pets and answering questions about our parents, our school, our church, and life in general. When Aunt Sally left the room, Jamie and I discussed whether or not we should ask her about the treasure and the stamp collection. After all, “weird” was an understatement for Aunt Sally.
Jamie paced around the room. “I don’t know, Abby. I think I just want to get out of here. This lady is crazy.” With that comment he held his index finger to the side of his head and moved it in a circular motion.
“I agree with you on that,” I remarked, “but what other choice do we have? She’s our only lead to the next clue.
Besides, what’s it going to hurt?”
“I guess you’re right,” he said as he walked toward the bookshelf in the far corner of the room. “Hey, look at this fuzzy ball.” Before I realized what he was doing, he reached out and grabbed it.
“AAAAUUUGGGHHH!” He dropped the ball on the floor where it unrolled itself.
I smiled. “I’m guessing that would be Houdini, the pet hedgehog.”
At that moment, Aunt Sally returned to the living room. She was carrying a tray filled with an assortment of fruits and cookies, two tall glasses of iced tea, and a fancy tea cup resting on its matching saucer.
After grabbing some snacks, we discussed our situation with Aunt Sally. We laid out every detail for her hoping that she might be able to shed some light on the matter. When the telling was complete, she sat still for several minutes. Finally, she spoke.
“I do remember the stamp collection. Ed was always working on that with Mom-Mom. I thought it was a big waste of time. As for the treasure, I remember that too.”
Jamie and I slid to the edge of the sofa, hanging on every word, as Aunt Sally continued.
“Mom-Mom talked about the treasure all the time. Of course, none of us ever saw it. In fact, most of us—and by 'us' I mean her children and grandchildren—think that it was just her imagination. Mom-Mom could be quite strange at times, and her illness made her that much worse.”
Jamie nodded. “Yeah, Pop-Pop told us she was egg-centered.”
Aunt Sally set her teacup down on the table and turned her confused look to Jamie. “What?”
“He means eccentric,” I stated. “You know—odd?”
She bobbed her head up and down, her clothespin barrette bouncing along with the rhythm. “Oh, I see. Yes, eccentric she was. But anyway, if there really is a treasure—and I think there must be after all that you’ve told me—I wouldn’t know where it is. I don’t think I can help you children.”
She rose from the couch and walked toward the front door. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to feed my pets.”
Disappointed to be at another dead end, I rose and followed her. “Could I just ask you one more thing?”
Aunt Sally stopped and turned back to face me. “Sure, Darling. What is it?”
I walked across the living room, careful to avoid the boxing, and still bouncing, Joey. Jamie followed closely behind me.
“The last clue we found said that the next clue could be found behind your dearest portrait. Do you have a favorite picture—maybe one that used to be at your grandmother’s house?”
She rested her chin in her hand and thoughtfully tapped her finger against her upper lip. “A picture?” She dropped her hand to her side and her eyes widened. “Of course. That would be the picture of me and Miss Chevious, my childhood pet. I took it from Mom-Mom’s house after she died. I didn’t figure she would mind.”
She walked into one of the back rooms and returned holding a large wooden picture frame. “This is it,” she said, turning it around. The picture was a black and white portrait of Aunt Sally as a young girl with long, floppy pigtails. She had her arms wrapped around the neck of a small deer.
I pointed to the animal. “That’s Miss Chevious?”
She nodded and looked at the photo again. “She was a Muntjac Deer and my favorite pet. We would play chase, tag, and hide-and-go-seek for hours. She was sweet and gentle, and I loved her dearly.” Aunt Sally smiled and wiped a tear from her eye.
I smiled and shook my head. At Jamie’s confused look, I explained. “I get it now—‘deerest.’ It wasn’t spelled wrong. It was just another part of the clue.” I directed my attention back to my aunt. “May I take the picture out of the frame?”
She hesitated as she looked at the portrait in her hands and then at me. “Why?”
“I’m just curious to see if there’s anything on the back of the picture itself. I promise to be very careful.”
Seeing that she was still clutching the portrait with a grip that any gymnast would have been proud of, I continued. “It’s the only way we can find out. Please, this is our last chance to find the next clue. We don’t know where else to look.”
She placed the frame face-down on the kitchen counter. “Okay, but please don’t hurt Miss Chevious.”
Jamie snickered, but I ignored him. Turning my attention to the picture, I loosened the prongs and lifted the backing. Relief spread through me like a bowl of Dad’s chicken soup, for taped to the back of the picture was the fourth clue.
The Delaware Detectives Page 9
