by JL Bryan
Chapter Three
After school on Friday, Jason picked up a cellophane-wrapped, ribbon-topped muffin basket from Mrs. Schuler, who ran a small gift shop in town. He pedaled over to Mrs. Dullahan's, whose house was several streets away from his own, at the dead end of a road just outside town. It was atop a small hill, surrounded by huge old trees whose limbs gnarled together to form a dark canopy. The weeds under the trees were thick as cornstalks.
Jason rode his bike up the short length of driveway and stopped at the gate. A high brick wall, thick with moss and mold, blocked most of Mrs. Dullahan's lawn from view. He could see one wooden turret of her house beyond it, with its single narrow window shuttered tight.
The gate itself was a massive pair of wooden doors, inscribed with strange floral and geometric designs, and these were full of moss, too. The whole area around her house felt chilly, though the rest of the town was warmed nicely by the May sunlight. It was nearly summer.
A rusty metal box, with little speaker holes and a single unmarked button, was built into the brick wall by the gate. Jason felt uneasy as he pushed the button.
He stood there for a minute, waiting. Apparently, she wasn't going to answer, and that was a relief. He turned his bike around.
“Who's there?” a raspy voice clicked out from the rusty box.
“Oh!” Jason said. “Um, hi, Mrs. Dullahan. My name is Jason Becker. My mom and the Lutheran Ladies sent me over here.” The lady didn't say anything, so he added, “Yeah...They said I should help you with yard work or something.”
“Go away,” the lady's voice replied.
“Okay,” Jason said. “Should I just leave the muffin basket by the gate, or....?”
“Go away!”
“All right, sorry!” Jason started to put the muffin basket down, but then reconsidered. If the old lady didn't want it, he could bring it to band practice for everybody to eat. Maybe Erin would like that.
He pedaled to Mitch's house with the muffin basket dangling from his handlebar. Dred's van was in the driveway, and the garage door was wide open, but no music was roaring out.
“What's wrong?” Jason asked as he parked his bike just outside the garage. He set the muffin basket on the workbench. “Can't play without me?”
Mitch, Dred and Erin were in the garage, but they weren't touching their instruments. Instead, they were moving boxes aside and looking carefully at the floor, searching for something.
“I lost my necklace,” Erin said. “The gold one with the little emeralds on the pendant? Have you seen it anywhere, Jason?”
“No, sorry. You lost it here?”
“I don't know. I've been looking everywhere.” Erin's eyes were glistening like she wanted to cry, but she was holding it back. “I've searched at home, at school, at The Creamery...”
“We'll find it,” Mitch said. He looked around the base of the drum kit.
“I already checked there,” Dred said.
“I'll help.” Jason knelt and peered under the workbench on one side of the garage. He knew the necklace Erin was talking about. She wore it almost every day. It matched her green eyes. “When was the last time you saw it?”
“A couple days ago. I don't really remember.”
“We've been looking for fifteen minutes. I'm pretty sure it's not here,” Dred said.
Erin frowned and turned her face away from everyone. She crossed her arms. “Never mind. I'm sorry for wasting everybody's time. Thanks for trying.”
“I'll check out in the yard.” Jason walked outside to look over the driveway and the grass.
In the garage, Dred tapped impatiently on her drums.
“Thanks, anyway, Jason,” Erin said. “Let's just play.”
“You sure?” Jason asked. “I can keep looking.”
“Nah, it's cool.” Erin shook her head and tucked a lock of green hair behind her ear. “Forget I said anything, okay? We have to practice for the audition.”
Jason took his guitar out of the case, which he'd left in Mitch's garage the previous night. “I meant to tell you guys, I can't come tomorrow night, either. I have to babysit Katie.”
“That's two days in a row,” Mitch said. “The audition is next week, Jason. I told you when you joined, you have to take the band seriously.”
“I do take it seriously! My parents don't. I can't help it.”
“You miss practice today, you miss it again tomorrow—” Mitch said.
“I didn't miss it today, though. Mrs. Dullahan didn't want me at her house any more than I wanted to be there.” Jason held up the muffin basket. “Who wants a muffin? Erin, chocolate chip?”
“Thanks! I could use some chocolate.” Erin smiled at him, and he suddenly felt soft and warm inside.
Jason punched through the cellophane and handed the muffins out. Mitch took both raspberry muffins and stuffed them in his mouth, puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk.
“So, no more missing practice,” Mitch said to Jason, spraying wet muffin bits as he spoke. “Got it?”
“I have to stay home tomorrow,” Jason said. “I'll be lucky if my parents even let me go to the audition. My mom's still not sure. It's a school night.”
“Dude, you're seventeen already,” Dred said. “You should be able to go anywhere you want.”
“Okay, just call my mom and tell her that,” Jason said.
“You're not going to make the audition?” Mitch asked, looking alarmed.
“I'll make it. I can handle my parents. But that means staying home tomorrow.”
“Work it out,” Mitch said. “Don't miss another practice after tomorrow. And don't mess up this audition!”
“I won't,” Jason said. He looked at Erin. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yep, don't worry about me. I'm the happiest girl in the world.” Erin said. She blew cheerful notes on the harmonica. “Let's play.”
