The Boney Hand

by Karen Kane

  “Pay attention!” signed Rupert. “We do it after dinner,” he repeated.

  Jasper nodded.

  At the next table Wendell looked scared, as if Rupert might punch him next.

  Frog reached for her notebook.

  Finally, wrote Frog. We have a lead.

  Rupert and Jasper stood up, cleared their plates, and slipped out of the dining hall.

  Charlie and Frog cleared their dishes and hurried outside after them. They stood at the castle doors, staring into the darkness. Where had they gone? The lights of the village twinkled across the river.

  “What are you doing?” said a voice.

  Charlie jumped. But it was only Oliver.

  Oliver tapped Frog, who also jumped.

  “Stop it!” signed Frog.

  “I can’t,” he signed. “I’ve been ordered to watch you both.” Oliver signed and then spoke this last part for Charlie.

  “By who?” signed Frog.

  “By Mom,” signed Oliver. “She’s worried about both of you. She doesn’t know you’re out here. But she will know unless—”

  Oliver paused as a group of kids left the castle and headed to the dorms. When they had passed, Oliver continued.

  “—unless you tell me what you’re doing!”

  “We’re following someone,” signed Frog. “Now we’ve lost them.” Frog peered once again into the darkness.

  Frog pointed. “There!”

  Charlie could barely see Jasper. It seemed he had dropped something in the grass and was looking for it. But no Rupert.

  GO AWAY, Frog fingerspelled to Oliver.

  “No!” he signed.

  Jasper found whatever he had been looking for and started walking. Frog didn’t have time to argue. They had to follow Jasper before he disappeared again.

  • • •

  Jasper stopped at the wooden door that was the entrance to the graveyard. Where was Rupert? Why hadn’t he waited for Jasper? The old wooden door opened smoothly for Jasper. Even though Obie wouldn’t go inside the graveyard, he had oiled the door for the people coming to the Fall Extravaganza.

  Both Charlie and Oliver hesitated. It might be fine for Frog to go alone into the cemetery with a bony hand on the loose—but it wasn’t fine for them. But Frog was already through the door before they could sign, “Let’s think about this for a minute.”

  Charlie and Oliver sighed and hurried after her.

  Jasper wasn’t heading toward the church. Instead he walked farther into the graveyard. Charlie shivered in the cold—he hadn’t had time to grab his fleece coat.

  In the light of the moon, Charlie saw Jasper suddenly stop and turn around.

  Charlie, Frog, and Oliver crouched behind a headstone:

  SILAS P. FRANKFURTER

  1798–1871

  HE SAW EVERYTHING, YET SAID NOTHING.

  Frog peeked over the headstone. She gave a thumbs-up and gestured, “Let’s go!”

  Charlie did not have a good feeling about this, but Jasper kept walking. He paused by another headstone and knelt down.

  “What’s he doing?” signed Frog.

  “Praying?” suggested Oliver.

  They continued to walk closer. Jasper seemed to be holding something in his hands.

  They walked closer.

  And closer.

  This did not feel right. In fact, everything inside Charlie was screaming “Run!” But Charlie didn’t run. He kept walking toward the bent figure of Jasper.

  He felt something tickle the back of his neck.

  Charlie swatted it with his hand.

  It brushed his neck again.

  He turned around.

  The Boney Hand hung midair—one bony finger pointing at Charlie.

  • • •

  Charlie screamed as he stumbled backward and fell. The Boney Hand swung through the air and landed on Frog’s head. Frog screeched and batted it away before falling to the ground next to Charlie. Oliver squealed, even though the Boney Hand hadn’t touched him.

  The Boney Hand slowly rose into the air. Frog jumped up and snatched it. Charlie couldn’t believe it—Frog was holding the Boney Hand with her bare hands!

  Someone jumped out of a tree, laughing so hard he clutched his stomach.

  Rupert.

  Charlie saw why Frog had grabbed the Boney Hand.

  It was plastic, with a piece of fishing line dangling from it.

  Frog threw it to the ground in disgust. Her hands were flying as she told the boys what she thought of them.

  “Inappropriate language” was how Oliver chose to interpret what Frog was saying to them.

  But Frog’s sign choices didn’t bother Rupert. He high-fived Jasper (who seemed reluctant to raise his hand and high-five him back) and then fell over laughing again. Charlie’s chest hurt from his heart pounding. Could you have a heart attack at his age? It sure felt like it.

  Rupert signed, “You’re so easy. You think you’re a detective. Some detective!” Oliver interpreted when it was clear Charlie wasn’t following.

  “Did you steal the Boney Hand?” Frog shouted at him in sign. “Did you scare Miss Tweedy and Millie with it? Did you try to scare Charlie by knocking? If you’re guilty, we ARE going to find out!”

  But Rupert didn’t answer any of Frog’s questions. For a moment, he looked confused. Then he signed, “No one will believe you. Everyone believes you two are guilty.” Rupert’s smile, the smile adults found so charming, was full of spite and satisfaction.

  Looking at Rupert, Charlie suddenly thought of Obie’s questions about everyone—questions Obie asked so that he would understand everyone else. Obie said you had to see all sides of a person in order to really see that person. Obie had asked a question about Rupert. Now Charlie asked it himself.

  “Why,” Charlie signed, “are you so mean?”

  Rupert looked startled, as if he had never considered that question before. Perhaps no one had ever asked him.

  But Charlie really wanted to know.

  What had Charlie or Frog ever done to Rupert to make him so hateful? What had anyone done to make him so hateful?

  Rupert looked unsure of himself for a moment.

  It was as if another Rupert was now in front of Charlie, thinking, really thinking about what Charlie had just said. Why am I so mean?

  Then he blinked and smiled.

  Mean Rupert was back.

  “Loser!” Rupert signed to Charlie and Frog.

  He walked out of the graveyard with Jasper in tow. Frog threw the fake hand after them.

  Charlie, Frog, and Oliver stood in the quiet cemetery, breathing hard. Rupert’s words played over again in Charlie’s head: Everyone believes you two are guilty. Everyone.

  But it wasn’t fair because it wasn’t true.

  It. Wasn’t. True.

  Instead of feeling sad or hurt, Charlie felt angry.

  Frog paced in the graveyard, fuming.

  “We aren’t guilty,” Charlie told Oliver. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I believe you,” said Oliver. “But you’re going to have to find out what happened to the real Boney Hand to prove it.”

  To prove it to everyone else. How do you convince everyone else?

  Charlie thought about the first mystery he and Frog had solved. How both he and Frog had learned to look within to find their own power. If people were going to see what they wanted to see, how did you have power over that? How did you have power over a mean person like Rupert?

  Charlie didn’t have any power over Rupert.

  But, Charlie realized, then the opposite must also be true—Rupert didn’t have any power over Charlie.

  Unless, of course, Charlie gave him his power. And Charlie wouldn’t do that. He would keep his power and use it for himself.

  A calm feeling flooded over him.

  Frog stopped pacing.

  “We have to think,” signed Frog as Oliver interpreted. “We have to think hard—harder than we ever have thought before. We have to s
olve this case. I know the clues are right in front of us. We just aren’t seeing them.”

  When Charlie came downstairs the next morning, he found Grandma and Grandpa Tickler standing in the living room, still in their bathrobes. They were studying the jelly-bean bowl that sat on the table between their two E-Z chair recliners.

  “What happened?” asked Charlie. “What’s wrong?”

  “Yvette refilled the jelly-bean bowl yesterday with a brand-new bag,” said Grandma. “We haven’t eaten any yet. But now look!”

  Charlie looked into the glass bowl. Jelly beans of all colors were inside it.

  “Don’t you see what’s wrong?” asked Grandma Tickler.

  “No,” said Charlie. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. Just jelly beans.

  “Yesterday there were black jelly beans,” said Grandma. “Today there are none.”

  “Ayuh,” said Grandpa Tickler.

  Charlie knew when Grandma and Grandpa Tickler watched TV, they often liked to eat jelly beans. Grandma always picked out the black jelly beans and handed them to Grandpa. Charlie looked in the bowl. Grandma Tickler was right—not a single black jelly bean was in this batch.

  The front door opened.

  “Did you ask Yvette?” whispered Charlie.

  “Yvette!” yelled Grandma. “Come in the living room, quick!”

  Yvette came into the living room still wearing her hat and coat.

  “Good morning, Yvette. How are you, Yvette?” said Yvette as she unbuttoned her coat. “Oh, I’m just fine, Irma. Thank you for asking.”

  “We have no time for niceties,” said Grandma. “We have another case to solve! You, of course, are our first suspect. Yvette, did you take the black jelly beans?” She pointed to the bowl.

  “Black jelly beans? Why on earth would I take the black jelly beans?” asked Yvette. “I don’t even like black jelly beans.”

  “Me either,” said Charlie.

  “I need coffee,” said Yvette. “There will be no more conversation until I have coffee.” Yvette went into the kitchen.

  “Charlie, we now have three mysteries we’re investigating, besides yours: the Mystery of the Missing Remote Control, the Mystery of the Frozen Underwear, and the Mystery of the Stolen Jelly Beans. Irving, we have to cancel some of our doctor’s appointments—we have too much detecting to do! Charlie, would you understand if the A Team can’t work on the Mystery of the Disappearing Boney Hand today?”

  “I would definitely understand,” said Charlie.

  • • •

  Although Castle-on-the-Hudson was filled with old people, Charlie had never met anyone as old as Miss Lemon. Charlie, however, had never actually “met” Miss Lemon because Miss Lemon was always asleep whenever Charlie was in the school library.

  Myrtle Lemon, also known by Frog as Mean Librarian or “M-L,” had been the school librarian forever. Frog called her Mean Librarian because Miss Lemon did not like anyone in the library when she wasn’t there, such as in the summertime. When Charlie and Frog needed to get into the school library to solve their case over the summer, Frog had to sneak the key away from her mother in order to get inside.

  Miss Lemon had been the librarian when Mrs. Castle was a student, and even when Grandpa Sol was a student, too. That was why Mrs. Castle would not think of getting rid of her, even though Miss Lemon slept most of the day behind the circulation desk.

  As a result, the students mostly ran the library, all the while careful not to wake Miss Lemon. Today was Ruthella’s day to work. Ruthella moved slowly as she shelved books, keeping a watchful eye on Miss Lemon, who was snoring peacefully. Charlie sat at a table, studying for his science test. Frog was going to meet him here to figure out the next step in their investigation.

  A book slipped out of Ruthella’s hands. It landed on the floor with thump.

  Miss Lemon stopped snoring and raised her head with her eyes still closed. For the longest time she stayed that way. Neither Charlie nor Ruthella moved. Finally, Miss Lemon’s head floated down and nestled back into its original position. Her snoring resumed. Ruthella exhaled and continued shelving books.

  Fifteen minutes later Frog bounded into the library.

  “Shhh!” Ruthella put a finger on her lips.

  Frog looked over at Miss Lemon. “What?” signed Frog. “She’s Deaf!”

  Frog signed “Deaf” by putting her index finger next to her ear and then next to the side of her mouth. Deaf.

  “Miss Lemon can feel the floor vibrate!” signed Ruthella. “She feels everything!”

  With great exaggeration, Frog tiptoed over to Charlie. She pulled out her notebook and pen. Charlie felt a surge of hope. It was time. Time to solve this mystery.

  I’ve been thinking all night, wrote Frog, because I keep feeling like there’s something I’ve overlooked. This morning I realized what it was. I never asked you any questions about the knocking you heard. Why the knocking? Why NOW?

  Outside the library windows, thick dark clouds were filling the sky.

  What’s odd, wrote Frog, is that Rupert never admitted to doing the knocking. Just like he never admitted to scaring Miss Tweedy and Millie with his fake bony hand. Why wouldn’t he just say he did both of those things?

  That was odd, Charlie thought. Maybe Rupert hadn’t admitted to the knocking or the scaring because he hadn’t done them.

  The knocking happened twice, right? wrote Frog.

  “Yes,” signed Charlie. Once in the hallway when I was going to Grandpa Sol’s study, he wrote. And once in the movie theater bathroom.

  What if someone was trying to send you a message? wrote Frog. They knocked knowing you would hear it.

  That made sense to Charlie. But what was the message?

  “Do you remember the pattern?” signed Frog.

  “I think so,” he signed.

  Charlie glanced over at Miss Lemon. He very softly knocked what he remembered hearing. First it was two short knocks, quick pause, one long knock. For the two short knocks, Charlie tapped his knuckles on the wooden table. For the long knock, he gently hit the table with his open hand.

  Tap-tap, pound.

  That was it.

  Then it was: tap-pound-pound, then something, tap-tap-tap.

  The last one was easy to remember: pound-pound, tap.

  Charlie put it together:

  Tap-tap, pound…tap-pound-pound something tap-tap-tap…pound-pound, tap.

  He looked at Frog. He was knocking too softly for Frog to feel the vibration.

  “Do it on my arm,” signed Frog.

  Charlie gently pounded and tapped out the message on Frog’s forearm.

  Frog drummed her fingers on the table, deep in thought. Then she paced quietly back and forth, twisting her long, glittery necklace.

  “That’s it,” signed Frog.

  “What’s it?” asked Charlie.

  Frog didn’t answer. Instead she went over to where Miss Lemon was sleeping. There was a cabinet right next to her. Frog reached over and slowly opened the cabinet door.

  Miss Lemon stopped snoring.

  Frog pulled out a flashlight.

  Miss Lemon opened her eyes.

  Frog froze.

  Charlie hoped Miss Lemon’s eyesight was like those animals that saw you only if you moved. If you stayed still, they couldn’t see you.

  Frog was obviously thinking the same thing. She stood perfectly still next to Miss Lemon. Finally, Miss Lemon’s eyes fluttered closed once more.

  Frog tiptoed her way back to Charlie.

  Remember, wrote Frog, when your grandparents were in Herman’s taxi and they beeped their horn AND flashed their light to get our attention?

  She handed the flashlight to Charlie.

  “Show me the knocking pattern, but with the light this time,” signed Frog.

  Charlie flashed the light: quick, quick…slow.

  Pause.

  Quick, slow, slow…?…quick, quick, quick.

  Pause.

  Slow, slow…quick.
r />   “What are you doing?” signed Ruthella from the other side of the library.

  “Detective work,” signed Frog.

  “Okay,” signed Ruthella. If it wasn’t about a book, she wasn’t interested.

  Frog grabbed the pen.

  The person knocking, wrote Frog, really WAS sending you a message!

  But what message? asked Charlie.

  Frog went over to the library computer and typed something. She found what she wanted and went over to a shelf near the windows.

  When Frog returned, she had a book with her: Morse Code for Everyone.

  Charlie had heard of Morse code, but he had never used it before.

  We use Morse code with the signal lamp, wrote Frog, to communicate with Mr. Simple about the gondola. But Morse code can also be sent through sound.

  Frog opened the book and skimmed it. She pointed to a sentence in the book.

  Morse code is a method of sending messages. It was originally created by Samuel F. B. Morse, along with other inventors in the 1800s, to work the telegraph.

  Ruthella was getting ready to leave. She noticed their conversation. It was about a book, so now she was interested.

  “Did you know,” signed Ruthella, “that Samuel Morse’s second wife was Deaf? Her name was Sarah Elizabeth Griswold. Some people believed she helped her husband invent Morse code. And I read that sometimes they communicated to each other by tapping Morse code on each other’s hands.”

  “Wow!” signed Charlie and Frog. “That was interesting.” Satisfied, Ruthella left the library.

  Frog turned to the Morse code chart in the book, which showed how to communicate letters and words with sound or light signals. Each letter was made up of “dashes” or “dots.” A dash was a longer signal, a dot a shorter signal. You paused briefly between letters. You paused slightly longer between words.

  The letter E was the most often used letter in English, so it had the shortest flash of light or sound: just one single dot.

  “Show me the message again,” signed Frog.

  Charlie flashed the light. Frog wrote down a dot or a dash, depending if Charlie flashed the light quickly or slowly. She drew a slanted line for a long pause. She wrote down a question mark for the part Charlie didn’t remember.