The Boney Hand

by Karen Kane

.. - / .-- ?…/ -- .

  Frog looked at the Morse code chart. She wrote out the corresponding letters:

  IT W?S ME.

  Frog added the letter A between the W and S.

  IT WAS ME.

  That was the message someone sent Charlie.

  The flashlight rolled off the table and banged on the floor.

  Miss Lemon’s eyes popped open.

  They should have dropped like stones, but instead they stood like statues.

  Miss Lemon was staring right at them. Time slowed down. It slowed so much that Charlie had time to picture the sign for “stand” in his mind: you made the letter V and then turned it upside down on your other palm. Stand.

  Miss Lemon had more wrinkles than Charlie had ever seen on one person. But her eyes were big and bright. Time sped up. Miss Lemon pointed to the flashlight and gestured for Charlie to give it to her.

  Charlie gulped. He picked up the flashlight and handed it to Miss Lemon.

  He hurried back to Frog, who still stood like a statue.

  Miss Lemon fiddled with the on and off switch of the flashlight a few times.

  Then she flashed it on purpose:

  Quick, quick.

  Pause.

  Quick, quick, quick…quick…quick.

  Pause.

  Slow, quick, slow, slow…slow, slow, slow…quick, quick, slow.

  Frog and Charlie looked at each other in surprise. Then Frog grabbed the pen. Miss Lemon flashed her light pattern once more. Frog wrote it down.

  .. /…. . / -.-- --- ..-

  Frog looked at the Morse code chart and wrote down the message:

  I SEE YOU.

  This was so unexpected that Charlie and Frog both laughed. Miss Lemon chuckled and closed her eyes again. Shaking their heads at this new view of Miss Lemon, they returned to the message Charlie had heard.

  IT WAS ME.

  Charlie softly knocked out the short taps and long pounds to match those Morse code letters. That’s what he had heard. That’s exactly what he had heard.

  “Look at this,” signed Frog. She wrote: NO ONE SAW…That was the message the Boney Hand had fingerspelled to the caretaker.

  Right after it Frog wrote, IT WAS ME. That was the message someone had sent to Charlie.

  When put together they fit perfectly.

  NO ONE SAW IT WAS ME.

  Frog’s eyes grew wide.

  Either it’s the Boney Hand sending you this message, wrote Frog, or it’s the person who stole the Boney Hand, telling you “It was me.”

  “But why?” signed Charlie. “Why would the thief do that?”

  “Guilt,” signed Frog immediately. The thief feels guilty, she wrote. Guilt is a great motive.

  Frog tapped the pen against her lips for a moment. If it is a thief, wrote Frog, then we should send a message right back to him. Or her. We can do it at dinner, when most of the school is there.

  Charlie realized something. If we’re sending a message through knocking, like the thief did, then the thief has to be able to hear the message, right?

  Frog nodded. But if the thief is completely deaf, wrote Frog, then we have to send the message with light—and that would attract too much attention. Frog thought for a moment. We’ll just have to make sure the thief can FEEL the message we send, wrote Frog. But if the thief is hard of hearing, I have a guess who the thief might be.

  “Who?” signed Charlie.

  JASPER, Frog fingerspelled.

  Jasper, who was Deaf, but also hard of hearing.

  Images of Jasper flashed in front of Charlie.

  Jasper, being teased about smelling bad and not showering.

  Jasper, standing alone after the Legend of the Boney Hand, not smiling or hugging anyone.

  Jasper, hanging his head and looking hurt.

  Jasper, rubbing his sore arm where he had just been punched.

  Why was Jasper friends with someone like Rupert? Why didn’t he stand up to him? Jasper was much bigger than Rupert. Perhaps Jasper was like Charlie when Charlie first met Rupert—he wanted Rupert to like him. Maybe Jasper had stolen the Boney Hand to impress Rupert and then felt guilty about it. Because maybe Jasper wanted Rupert to like him, but he didn’t want to BE like Rupert. And that’s why he was trying to confess.

  Why don’t we just ask Jasper? wrote Charlie.

  Because, wrote Frog, he might just deny it. Instead, we need to play his game. We need to send him a message.

  Charlie looked at Frog.

  What message should we send? asked Charlie.

  A message of justice! A message that says, “You stole the Boney Hand! You scared people with it! We know you did it! Confess or else!”

  But, Frog, wrote Charlie, if Jasper is trying to communicate with us, he wants us to understand something. We need to send a message that tells him we’re TRYING to understand.

  We need to make him pay for what he did! wrote Frog.

  First we need to understand why, Charlie wrote back.

  Frog drummed her pen on the notebook and tucked a curl behind one ear. Eventually, she wrote: Fine. What should we say?

  Charlie turned the page and pointed to Miss Lemon’s Morse code message.

  I SEE YOU.

  • • •

  A gusty wind whirled around the castle as dinner was served in the dining hall.

  Millie was upstairs eating with her parents. Ruthella sat with Charlie and Frog, her nose buried in a book. They had chosen a table right next to Rupert and Jasper. As they ate, Charlie watched Rupert joke and tell stories. Jasper sat next to him, trying to eat but constantly getting poked in the ribs by Rupert.

  Charlie and Frog’s message was ready.

  They were waiting until just before dinner was over. Then they would send it. Charlie hoped they were right. If they were, they would have the Boney Hand back tonight.

  Everyone would know Frog had solved this case.

  Everyone would know Charlie wasn’t guilty.

  Frog looked at the big clock and then at Charlie. They both looked at the Morse code message they had written out. They had shortened the message to make it easier to repeat.

  A dot was a short tap. A dash was a long pound. Frog left a space in between letters. In between words Frog had drawn a slanted line.

  .——. /…. . / ..—

  Underneath the table, they each began to stomp on the wooden floor.

  They hit the floor with just the ball of their foot for the dots and pounded their full foot on the floor for the dashes. They paused slightly between each letter. Between each word was a longer pause: tap-pound-pound, tap…tap-tap-tap, tap, tap…tap-tap-pound.

  At first they stomped the floor softly, as if they were just playing a game. As students began clearing their plates, they stomped louder. Ruthella, feeling the vibrations, looked up.

  It didn’t have anything to do with a book, so Ruthella shrugged and went back to reading.

  The few hearing people in the dining hall, like Boris, looked over. The few hard-of-hearing students, Jasper included, glanced over. Wendell refused to look because it was Charlie.

  Don’t worry, Wendell, Charlie thought. We’ll have the Boney Hand back tonight.

  Many of the other students, feeling the vibrations, asked what was going on.

  “We’re just playing a game,” signed Frog.

  Charlie and Frog continued to send their Morse code message until one of the cooks told them to stop.

  Had their message been received? It was time to leave and see if the thief would follow them.

  Frog had insisted they had to end this mystery where it started, inside the church cemetery. Drops of freezing rain fell on Charlie and Frog as they slowly walked, making sure whoever wanted to follow them could easily do so. This time Charlie didn’t hesitate when they arrived at the graveyard door—he walked right in on the heels of Frog.

  With her flashlight on, Frog led Charlie down the path to the stone church. Charlie used his own flashlight to watch the ground. He still felt spoo
ked after being fooled by Rupert’s fake hand.

  What if they were wrong?

  What if the Boney Hand hadn’t been stolen? What if the Boney Hand was crawling around the graveyard right now?

  They sat on the bench outside the church.

  “Now we wait,” signed Frog. “It’s almost over. I can feel it.”

  Charlie hoped so. Because it certainly didn’t feel safe sitting out here. And it was cold and wet. But being safe, warm, and dry were never Frog’s primary concerns when there was a mystery to solve. Charlie was about to tell Frog they should sit inside the church, even if it would be harder for the thief to find them. They could leave a note on the door: We’re inside. Come on in, thief!

  Then, unbelievably, someone was walking toward them. Frog waited until the person was almost there, and then she swung her flashlight toward the suspect.

  Oliver.

  But Oliver wasn’t the thief—Oliver was just being nosy.

  “What are you doing?” signed Oliver. “Why are you here?”

  “Why are YOU here?” signed Frog. “Stop following us!”

  “No problem,” signed Oliver. “Mom wanted me to find you. I’ll just go back and let her know where you are.” Oliver turned to leave.

  Frog grabbed his arm. “No! Stay!”

  Oliver paused and considered this.

  “Only if you say please,” signed Oliver.

  “Please!!!” Charlie and Frog both signed.

  “Okay,” he signed cheerfully, obviously never planning to leave in the first place.

  Charlie sat back down. Oliver sat next to him while Frog began to pace back and forth, twisting her necklace around and around. Her necklace was going to break with all the twisting she had been doing today.

  “So what was all that pounding on the floor about?” Oliver asked Charlie. “Who were you telling ‘We see you’?”

  “You know Morse code?” asked Charlie.

  “I work at the gondola sometimes,” said Oliver. “You have to know it to work the signal light. Wow, it’s cold out here.”

  “We were sending a message,” said Charlie. “For the person who stole the Boney Hand.”

  “You know who did it?” asked Oliver.

  “We think so,” he said.

  “Who?” asked Oliver.

  Charlie didn’t answer. He didn’t want to say the thief’s name until he showed up.

  Oliver didn’t press him. “I just hope something exciting happens,” he said. “And that it doesn’t start to pour.”

  “Will you interpret for me if I need it?” asked Charlie.

  “What else have I got to do?”

  “Thanks,” said Charlie. “I owe you.”

  “I’ll remember that, Charlie Tickler.”

  They waited and waited.

  The wind and the rain blew harder.

  They shivered and waited some more.

  Time passed and nothing happened. Finally, Frog stopped pacing. As she turned on her flashlight to sign something, Charlie heard a twig snap.

  He motioned to Frog to turn off the light. The footsteps grew closer and closer. A dark figure appeared on the path.

  Frog aimed her flashlight toward the suspect and shined it in his face.

  A great gust of wind blew. Leaves tumbled off the trees, spinning and falling to the ground.

  It was Wendell.

  • • •

  It was Wendell Finch.

  Wendell, who loved the story of Boney Jack.

  Wendell, who would never do anything to hurt the memory of Boney Jack.

  It was Wendell who walked toward Charlie, Frog, and Oliver. He was wearing a backpack.

  “The Boney Hand?” signed Frog.

  Wendell pointed to his backpack and nodded.

  “I got your message,” signed Wendell. “That means you got mine.”

  Wendell had been doing the knocking.

  Wendell Finch.

  “I felt guilty,” Wendell signed as Oliver interpreted, “because Charlie was being blamed for taking the Boney Hand. I never meant for that to happen.”

  “I knew it,” signed Frog. “Guilt will get you every time. But why? Why did you steal it?”

  Wendell kicked at the ground with the toe of one sneaker.

  “I saw Rupert,” signed Wendell, “right before the Legend of the Boney Hand performance. He told Jasper he was going to steal the hand and scare people with it. I just couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Maybe he was just joking,” signed Frog.

  “He wasn’t! He had that look he gets when he’s about to do something really bad. And he was the one who unlocked the back door!”

  “You should have told someone!” signed Frog.

  “Who?” signed Wendell. “Who would have believed me? Grown-ups always believe Rupert is innocent.”

  Oliver added his own opinion.

  “True,” Oliver signed by touching the side of his index finger to the front of his lips and then bringing his finger down.

  Charlie had so many questions.

  “How?” signed Charlie. “How did you do it?”

  “I went in the back door of the church,” Wendell signed as Oliver interpreted. “I lifted the glass dome, but it was heavy. It slipped and fell. I knew you’d hear that, so I rolled under a pew. When you came in, the Boney Hand fell off the table. After you ran away, I grabbed the hand and ran out the back.”

  “But you touched the Boney Hand!” signed Frog. “You know what the legend says!”

  “I took off my jacket,” signed Wendell, “and wrapped the Boney Hand in it. Just like in the movie.”

  “I knew it!” Frog signed again.

  “Protecting the Boney Hand from a bully was more important to me than the curse!” signed Wendell. “I would die for the Boney Hand!”

  “Well, you might just get your chance,” Frog’s hands snapped. She looked just like Mrs. Castle when she signed that.

  “Boney Jack did good things for people,” Wendell told her. “But in the end, no one saw him as good. I thought I was doing something good by protecting the Boney Hand. But then Charlie was blamed! And I knew even if I returned the Boney Hand, people would still blame Charlie. And you, too, Frog,” Wendell added. “People would still think you made Charlie do it just to solve a case.”

  “That’s why you need to confess!” signed Frog.

  “I will,” Wendell signed. “I’m going to confess to Mr. Willoughby that I stole the Boney Hand. It will be my last good deed at this school.”

  “No!” signed Charlie.

  “Yes!” signed Frog.

  “But Willoughby will get him expelled!” said Charlie as Oliver interpreted. “Wendell didn’t do anything wrong! He was trying to do something right!”

  “If he doesn’t admit taking it,” signed Frog, “then everyone who thinks you stole the Boney Hand will still think you did it. And everyone who thinks I convinced you to do it so that I could solve a case will still think that, too!”

  Charlie looked at Wendell, who seemed smaller than ever. It was true. If Wendell simply left the Boney Hand on the velvet pillow, everyone who believed Charlie had stolen it would simply think Charlie had returned it. He would still be blamed.

  But Charlie couldn’t control what everyone would think. He could only control what he thought.

  “Good people do good things,” Charlie reminded Frog as rain fell out of the clouds like a bucket upended.

  • • •

  The four of them rushed into the church.

  They stood in the vestibule, their clothes soaking wet. Dim lights illuminated the sanctuary. From inside the entranceway, Charlie could see the pedestal at the front of the church, with its red velvet pillow on top.

  Its empty red velvet pillow.

  “Good people do good things,” Frog repeated, as if talking to herself. She pushed her wet, curly hair out of her face and looked right at Wendell. She waited for him to take off his glasses, wipe them, and then put them back on.


  “You did something good,” signed Frog. She hesitated and then added, “You shouldn’t get in trouble because of that.”

  “Whoa,” Oliver whispered. “Miracles really do happen.”

  “Put the hand back,” Frog told Wendell. “We won’t say anything.”

  “Really?” signed Wendell. “Are you sure?”

  Charlie and Frog looked at each and then at Wendell.

  “We’re sure,” they signed.

  Wendell took off his backpack and gently placed it on the vestibule floor. Charlie, Frog, and Oliver all took a step backward. Wendell unzipped it, reached inside, and pulled out a rolled-up fleece jacket. He placed that on top of the backpack.

  Frog and Oliver shuddered.

  Slowly Wendell unfurled the coat.

  All of them drew back at the sight of the yellow-brown Boney Hand. It was a frightening thing to see outside its glass enclosure. Fingers curled, it looked ready to leap up and grab any one of them.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” signed Wendell. “I can’t believe I stole it.”

  “I can’t either,” signed Charlie.

  “Are you sure I should do this?” asked Wendell.

  “We’re sure,” Charlie and Frog signed again.

  Wendell reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves. He put them on and braved death again as he carefully picked up the Boney Hand.

  Frog and Oliver shuddered once more.

  Wendell took a few moments to gaze at Boney Jack’s hand one last time before he returned it.

  “This will be the second case we’ve solved,” Frog signed to Charlie, “and once again we can’t tell anyone.”

  Wendell took a deep breath and was just about to take his first step into the church when Frog stopped him.

  “Don’t do it!” signed Frog.

  Charlie, Oliver, and Wendell stared at Frog. Was she changing her mind? But Frog was pointing to the front of the church.

  “Look,” signed Frog.

  Up in the corner, near the roof, was a small camera. It was aimed directly at the pedestal. As they watched, a small red light blinked on and off.

  “That’s a time-lapse camera,” signed Frog. “Boris has one just like it. I knew we couldn’t trust Willoughby!”

  Mr. Willoughby had spread the word that no one would be punished if the thief returned the Boney Hand. But secretly he had mounted a camera to catch the thief.