The Light Jar

by Lisa Thompson

  “What happened, Nate? Tell me.”

  I shot him a look, then went back to raking the ash in the fire. I didn’t want to talk about it. Not right now.

  “So, are you going to help Kitty?” asked Sam.

  “No,” I said as I carefully relit the fire.

  “You know, it might be fun,” said Sam. “I bet there’re all sorts of interesting things hidden about this place, don’t you? I mean, look at all this stuff!”

  Sam waved his hand toward the mantelpiece and the collection of bric-a-brac that covered every surface in the room.

  “And she did think that you were pretty wonderful for solving that first clue. I bet you could solve the next one just like that!” He snapped his fingers.

  He was right. I had solved the first clue pretty easily, but the new one seemed more cryptic. Think of an I, then think of an H was puzzling me. Sam was watching me.

  “And it would give you something to do …” he said.

  He was right. I didn’t actually have anything to do, and I wasn’t in the mood for puzzles, reading any more of my book, or my stupid magic ball.

  “I think …” I said. “I think maybe I’ll have a poke around the cottage and see if I can find anything.”

  I shot a look at Sam, who was smiling and glowing like he was the sun or something.

  I started with the mantelpiece above the wood stove. Ornaments and vases had been jammed together into every possible space. I searched through a china pot that was crammed full of pens and blunt pencils but found nothing interesting. I picked up each of the ornaments, giving them a shake to see if anything had been hidden inside, but I only found lots of dust and the odd dead fly. In between the statues and figures were some old receipts and a few unused stamps that had been torn off envelopes. I pushed the wooden clock to one side and the bell inside gave a gentle bong, and then I checked behind the circular mirror above the fire, just in case there was a hidden safe with a black dial like you saw in spy movies, but it was just a bare wall.

  The kitchen cupboards didn’t hold any secrets, though I found some packets of dried tomato soup that I put in the “would eat” pile.

  Upstairs there was nothing in the bathroom, and just some old holey sweaters in the bottom of the wardrobe in my room.

  Mum’s room was the last place left to look.

  I sat on her bed for a bit. I hadn’t noticed before, but it had been neatly made with the covers smoothed down and tightly tucked in after her one night of sleep. She never made her bed at home, unless you counted throwing the duvet up over the pillow. Here it looked like she’d really taken her time to make it nice. Her small bag was on the floor where I’d left it with my present waiting inside. I felt sick. Where was she? The bad thought came back into my head again, and I pushed it away.

  “You’re not doing a great job of treasure hunting just sitting there, are you?”

  Sam appeared in the doorway, and I sprang up as he walked in.

  “Come on, Nate. You can do this—I know you can. Just think. I and H. What could that mean?”

  “I’m trying, okay?” I said, but my mind was blank.

  I took a look under the bed and then tugged on the drawers in the big, heavy chest. The top one had a black comb, a few chess pieces, and an empty picture frame rattling around inside. The second was full of smelly old clothes, and in the bottom one there were lots of yellowing newspapers. Underneath the papers was a brown folder labeled House and Grounds: Maps/Plans. Inside were some typed letters dating from the 1970s that appeared to be about some kind of building application. There was a map of the local area and a large, folded piece of paper that showed the plans of Kitty’s house and garden. I laid it out on the floor.

  “Wow,” I said. “It’s huge.”

  The house was drawn in sharp pencil and appeared to have three floors and a lot of rooms. Each room had a fancy name, such as the Grand Study, Children’s Day Nursery, Brontë Reading Room, and the Music Chamber.

  Sam peered over my shoulder. “Anything?”

  “Nothing,” I said. I folded the plans carefully and put them back.

  I sat on the sofa downstairs and watched the light of the fire flicker against the wall. Every few minutes I looked up at the darkness outside, just in case Mum’s car lights appeared. I’d have to go to bed soon, but the thought of that made me feel anxious. Where was she? Would I have to stay here on my own forever? Had something terrible happened to her?

  I stared at the figurines lined up along the mantelpiece. There was a man dressed in a fancy blue-and-white suit who was tipping his hat toward a girl who looked away shyly under a parasol. Two spaniels with beady eyes sat side by side; their heads looked too big for their bodies and they had their noses in the air. Sam was sitting in the armchair looking through my Freaky Things book. He kept snickering every now and then.

  “Did you see this? This story about Charles the Second and the ice cream? How ridiculous. As if ice houses existed. Do they think we are idiots? Ha. And this one about the monkey! I’ve never read so much rubbish before …”

  I held my breath for a moment. “Whoa, hold on a minute. What did you just say?”

  Sam looked up at me over the book. “The story about the monkey? I was just saying what …”

  “No, no, no … before then. About Charles the Second. Let me take a look.”

  I jumped up and grabbed the book from him and found the right page. I quickly skimmed through the lines, and there it was.

  “That’s it! I and H! It’s an ice house! The next clue is hidden in the ice house! It’s obvious if you think about it. The final line in the clue said, ‘Then unlock the door to a cold, frozen place.’ An ice house! Of course it is.”

  I sat back on the sofa feeling pretty pleased with myself. Sam was beaming at me, his whole outline glowing yellow.

  “See? I knew you could do it! I just knew it,” he said.

  But then my smile fell as I looked at the picture in the book in my lap. There was Charles II with his silly, giant ice cream, but in the corner of the page was a photograph of a real ice house. A redbrick arched entrance had been dug into the side of a hill, and inside it looked very, very dark.

  “You should get some sleep,” said Sam.

  I picked up my book and Mrs. Ellie-Fant and walked to the stairs.

  “Where is she, Sam? Where’s my mum?”

  Sam looked at me sadly, and then his colors faded until he disappeared. I was all alone once more.

  I flicked through my book the next morning as I lay in bed.

  Do you know how the hot dog was invented? In 1876 a lady named Eloise Gibson was sitting eating a salami roll on an exceptionally warm day in Central Park, when Stanley Robinson walked by with his Jack Russell terrier, Poochy. The little dog stopped and sniffed at Eloise’s ankle, who let out a yelp and threw her salami roll up into the air!

  “Oh gee, I’m real sorry,” said Stanley. “Poochy just wanted to say howdy to you!”

  Eloise looked down at her lunch, which was now sitting on the little dog’s back. “If I were you, sir, I’d take your animal somewhere cooler. He is clearly one hot dog!”

  Stanley looked at the woman.

  Looked at his dog.

  And that, dear readers, was a eureka moment! Stanley Robinson went on to invent the hot dog and became a zillionaire …

  I’d seen a program on TV once that talked about the history of the hot dog, and I’m sure it had something to do with Germany and dachshunds, not Jack Russells. I lay there for a moment, listening to the sounds of the creaky old cottage. Hoping that somehow Mum had come back in the middle of the night and I hadn’t heard her. But all I could hear were the rustling of the trees outside and a robin singing as if his life depended on it.

  “Nate! Nate? Are you there?”

  I sat bolt upright. Mum? Was that Mum? I jumped out of bed. Someone was downstairs.

  “We agreed ten o’clock! Hello?”

  My stomach dropped as I recognized the voice. It was
n’t Mum at all; it was Kitty. Wrapping the cowboy duvet around my shoulders, I headed down.

  When I opened the living room door she was already inside, wearing her blue woolly hat with her brown satchel across her chest. I thought I’d locked the front door, and I was angry with myself for forgetting. Anyone could have come in during the night.

  “Ah, you’re up! Well, sort of. Are you ill?”

  I shook my head. It wasn’t Mum. She still wasn’t back. I felt my stomach knot again. “No, I just hadn’t seen the time. Did you … Did you just let yourself in?”

  I couldn’t quite believe she’d done that. She opened her mouth but then shrugged. “I was cold. So, are you going to get ready then or what? We still have the next clue to solve.”

  I remembered I’d already guessed the answer, and I grinned at her.

  “Wait right there!” I said, and I ran upstairs to get dressed. I was so cold I grabbed a sweater from the wardrobe in my room, trying to ignore the dusty smell. The sleeves were far too long, and I folded them up my arms the best I could. I also took the folder from the bottom drawer, the one with the plans and map of the house and grounds.

  The bathroom was so cold there was a thin layer of ice on the inside of the window, and I scratched a tiny circle in it with my fingernail as I brushed my teeth. I really needed to take a shower, but hopefully the layers of clothes would hide any smell.

  When I got back downstairs Kitty was inspecting the row of ornaments on the mantelpiece. “Are your parents out again?”

  I rubbed the top of my head. “They’re … erm, they’re out getting samples of carpets and stuff. They won’t be back for hours, I would imagine. My parents are pretty busy people.”

  Kitty nodded at me but didn’t say anything as she walked over to the window and looked out onto the driveway. “They must have left really early. There’s no sign of a car being there.”

  It had snowed in the night and there was a light dusting covering everything, including the driveway. If I’d been telling the truth, there should be a patch of snow-free ground where the car had been.

  I opened my mouth but I literally couldn’t think of anything to say, so I just shut it again. My stomach gave a loud growl that sounded a bit like a rumble of distant thunder.

  “Oh, I brought you something,” said Kitty, rummaging in her brown satchel. She passed me a brown paper bag. “It’s a muffin. You like butterscotch, don’t you? I usually have chocolate chip, but I thought I’d give these a try.”

  I opened the bag and a smell of cinnamon, toasted marshmallows, and warm bakeries wafted up my nose. Inside was the most amazing-looking muffin I’d ever seen. I pulled it out and took a huge bite. It was still warm and it tasted so good it brought tears to my eyes.

  “Kitty … this is … wow …” I said, stuffing another mouthful in.

  She smiled. “Oh wow, you must be really hungry.”

  I’d eaten the whole thing. I grinned and went to brush the crumbs off the smelly sweater, but I must have eaten it so quickly there weren’t any. I realized then that there was a great big hole in the front by the hem, but Kitty didn’t seem to notice.

  “What’s your favorite type of scone, fruit or cheese?” she said, blinking her eyelashes at me.

  “Erm. Cheese, perhaps? I think. Or fruit. I don’t really mind.”

  I stared at her. Was there a reason she was keen to give me food? Had she realized that everything I had been telling her was a complete lie? That I was on my own?

  “But there’s no need to bring anything else over, if that’s why you’re asking,” I said quickly. “I think we might be leaving later today. My parents have an appointment about another development, you see … in London. So … you know, I might be gone.”

  She nodded but I could tell she didn’t believe a word of it. Before she could ask me any more questions, I jumped in with my news. “I think I solved the riddle last night.”

  Kitty’s eyes lit up, dazzling blue.

  I opened the brown folder and took out the plans of the house and grounds. I made some space on the table and spread the paper out. “This is your house, isn’t it? And the grounds?”

  Kitty gasped. “Wow! This is amazing. I’ve never seen a map of the house before.”

  I pointed at some of the rooms. “Look, all the rooms have names. The French Room, the Breakfast Room, the Floral Bedroom.”

  Kitty nodded. “Yes, they do! Ah, I like your thinking!” She quickly scanned them. “But there’s nothing with the letters I and H,” she said.

  “No,” I said, unfolding the plans a little more so that all of the grounds could be seen. I was hoping it would be on there somewhere, and I traced my finger along the pathways on the grounds, past the stables and down a hill, and then tapped hard on the table.

  “There! That is an ice house.”

  Next to a faint circle was a little arrow, and a label in fancy scroll next to it read Ice house.

  Kitty frowned as she stared at the map. “An ice house … Of course. I knew it, Nate! I knew you’d be the one to solve all of these clues. Brilliant! But what’s it for?”

  “Wait here,” I said and I ran upstairs and grabbed my Freaky Things book, then came back down and showed her the bit about ice houses.

  “This book does exaggerate a bit, but I think most of the things are based on truth. Ice houses do exist on the grounds of big houses. They used to pack them full of snow and ice and use them to preserve food throughout the year. And that is where you’ll find your next clue.” I shut the book with a satisfying smack.

  Kitty beamed at me. “Of course! They used to use the ice house as a den, apparently. Dad hung up little lanterns, and they put some old chairs in there. William would have definitely wanted to hide something there.”

  Her face was so happy I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “I’m so pleased you’ve decided to help me with this, Nate. I wasn’t sure … you know … if you were up for being friends. It gets really lonely out here. All on your own.”

  I smiled and she held my gaze, but I quickly turned away and folded the plans up again.

  “So, what’s this thing?” she said, picking up the Ask Me a Question magic ball.

  “It’s just some silly game. You think of a word, and it reckons it can read your mind.”

  Kitty fiddled with the switch, and the ball burst into life, flashing and playing a little tinkly tune. She held it up to her lips.

  “WHERE … IS … CHARLOTTE’S … TREASURE?” she said into the little speaker.

  I snorted. “No, it doesn’t work like that! You think of something in your head and then answer its questions. It’s stupid, really.”

  Kitty stared at the little device in her hand, closed her eyes, and scrunched up her face. She was obviously taking it very seriously. Then she pressed START and began to answer the questions. When she got to the end the ball went into overdrive mode as it guessed the correct answer. She looked at me, wide-eyed.

  “That is amazing,” she said, staring at the ball for a bit before putting it down on the table. “Right. Come on then, let’s go and check out the ice house.”

  My face dropped. It was going to be very, very dark in there. I couldn’t go.

  “You go ahead, Kitty. I wouldn’t want to … you know, take over or anything.”

  She stopped by the back door. “What? Of course you’ve got to come. You’re the super-riddle-busting champion of the world!”

  Her eyes were pleading with me and I couldn’t find the words to say no.

  “Okay. Well. Perhaps I’ll just walk there with you. Hang on a minute.”

  I went to the front door and got my coat and put on my sneakers. Kitty was waiting for me in the kitchen, and I quickly grabbed the flashlight from the counter. I then realized the Ask Me a Question magic ball was still flashing and beeping loudly on the table. I glanced at the little screen as I went to turn it off. It was scrolling past really quickly. I looked at Kitty, but she had her back to me. I read the littl
e words.

  I’ve guessed it!!!

  You are the loser!!!!

  Your secret word was …

  … wait for it …

  BOYFRIEND!!!!!!!!

  Oh boy, I thought.

  We walked through the wood.

  I felt a bit weird after seeing the “boyfriend” thing on the magic ball, but I decided to just ignore it. It probably didn’t have anything to do with me; she’d just been trying it out.

  “So, where exactly is your house?” I asked. I didn’t want to go there, but it would be nice to get a glimpse of it, at least.

  “It’s over there,” she said, waving her hand vaguely. “We can’t go near it though. You wouldn’t want to be seen by anyone, would you?”

  I was about to protest that my parents and I were totally allowed to be at the cottage and weren’t hiding, then closed my mouth. I was worried if I said too much she’d start asking questions.

  We came out of the forest, and the frozen ground was so hard it hurt the soles of my feet through my thin sneakers.

  “It must be amazing having all this space around you,” I said as we puffed along. “You can walk the length of our back garden in ten steps.”

  I wondered if I’d ever see our old house or garden again. It hadn’t really felt like home since Gary had moved in. I guessed I wouldn’t miss it too much. I thought of Mum and Gary there together. Without me. I pushed the image out of my mind.

  Kitty stayed silent and I stopped to take a look behind us. There were the dark woods, and then to the left of that I could just make out the top of a roof.

  “Is that the house?” I asked, stretching my neck to try to see more. But Kitty was hurrying in the other direction.

  “Look! There’s the ice house.”

  Cut into the side of a hill was a small oval hole containing an iron door, and as we got closer I could see the blackness behind the bars. I shuddered.

  “It looks like a dungeon,” I said. “That is so creepy.”

  Kitty crouched down and peered inside. “There’s a bit of a drop as you go in and then there’s a brick room.”