The tin cups on the wall clanged at once, rattling against the pots and pans that hung beside them.
Tully looked up at them. "Exactly." He sat back on the couch and put his feet up, lacing his hands behind his head. "Eudora says your family's going to Onset."
"We are. Saturday. The twins are coming." I hesitated. "I think."
He glanced sideways at me but didn't push me. "Then you have to search for the papers when you get there. It's your duty. But do it surreptitiously. You don't want your folks getting mad. They don't exactly approve of me."
"I understand." Excitement swelled in my chest. "I will. I promise."
He leaned back on the couch and rested his arm on the side table, playing over the surface of the green metal box sitting beside him. I hadn't noticed it at first.
"Is that the box from your old house?"
He ran his hand over its smooth surface. "It is."
"Why'd you have to sneak in at night and take it if it's your house, anyway? It's just a bunch of old pictures and letters. Right?"
He glared at me. "I didn't sneak in. It's my place. I can go there whenever I want."
I hung my head. "Sorry."
He relaxed and sighed. "But you probably earned the right to know, since you saved my neck. I'd been sampling my whiskey a little that night, and I had the urge to see it. I know it was late, but I keep weird hours." He took the box onto his lap. "This contains some very special items. When Eudora finally found me and told me about her husband, we took a walk out to the old place together. She talked about getting it restored and living in it again. Dreamed of making it the showplace it once was."
I stared at the box, dying to know what was so special about it.
"This has private things in it that I don't want gawked at by workmen. Or anyone, for that matter."
I sat silent, hoping he'd tell me more.
"Okay, okay. I'll show you this." He opened the lid toward his belly, not wide enough for me to see all the way in, but enough to select some photos. "This here is your grandfather and me in Switzerland. That mountain in the background is the Eiger. Ever heard of it?"
I shook my head and examined the picture. There they were again. My grandfather Marlowe and Tully. In the close up, both men looked young and vibrant with arms slung around each other's shoulders once again. Their eyes sparkled and although the photo was in black and white, I swore I saw the flush of the outdoors on their cheeks. The Eiger Mountain loomed large and majestic behind them.
"It was the happiest time of my life," he said. His voice hitched, and he looked down at his hands.
I didn't get it. How could he sound so sad about the happiest time in his life? "You look like you're having a ball." My words sounded lame, but I didn't know what else to say. "Did Mr. Roberts take the picture?"
He shook his head. "No. It was taken by another tourist. Roberts had to head home earlier than we did. He left us in Paris, and we continued to Grindlewald."
I peered at the picture a little more closely. "Is my grandfather wearing a ring?"
A look of frustration crept over his face. "He is. It was a gift from me on his birthday. Amethyst. Before he died, he gave it back to me."
"I've seen it," I said. "I'm sorry I snooped, but it's in the bag of marbles in the hole in your closet."
He bolted straight up. "You found it?" In seconds he'd jumped up and grabbed me in a bear hug, then held me at arms' length to look in my face. "Honest to Pete?"
I nodded, feeling a bit awkward. "Yeah. Why would I make that up?"
"Of course you wouldn't. God bless you, you found it!"
I submitted to another hug and waited for him to settle down.
"I've been looking for that ring for years. You say it was in my old marble bag?"
"Yup. Maybe Penni put it there."
He chortled and slapped his knee. "By jingles, maybe she did. She always was a little jealous of our friendship. Like a lot of people around here."
I waited for clarification, but it didn't come. "Do you want me to go get it for you?"
He rose and grabbed his jacket from the hook behind the door. "No, thanks. Let's go together so nothing happens to either one of us this time."
"What about my horse?"
"Leave him here for now. Let's walk. It'll do us both good."
I checked Pancho's tether, found it still snug, and sprinted after Tully, who'd already made headway on the path.
Thoughts raced through my mind as we hurried along the trail. I felt confused about the way Tully acted, but also felt like I shouldn't judge him. Maybe he really liked my grandfather, and they were close, like me and Sig. And maybe he'd never had any other friends. After his parents died, the town had shunned them, afraid of catching the fever.
I figured that's why he became a hermit, and his sister left town to become a journalist who traveled the world. So maybe my grandfather was his one and only pal. Ever. Since he'd never married, as far as I knew, that could explain a lot. No wonder the pictures meant so much to him, and no wonder he seemed so sad when he talked about my grandfather.
I settled into a steady jog to keep up with Tully's long stride, and wondered if Penni was on our tail. I couldn't see her, but smelled the faint aroma of peppermint every so often. She was there, all right. Just like she'd been for almost the past two hundred years.
Chapter Thirty-six
"It looks peaceful this morning." I stopped to stare at the house when we broke free of the woods and entered the clearing. A cloud of white and yellow butterflies hovered over the hayfield, rising in unison and swooping in a glorious display. I watched in wonder, never having seen clusters of them before. Usually one lone butterfly darted here or there, sipping nectar from Queen Anne's Lace or buttercups. But a whole flock of them?
It hit me in a flash. I turned to Tully. "Penni?"
He scratched his beard and pointed to the sky where the butterflies congregated in a design so beautiful and complicated it reminded me of the doilies Millie Stone crocheted. "Sometimes she can get nature to cooperate with her whims. Like now."
The cloud of butterflies rose higher, swooping down toward us. I laughed and ducked. They performed the trick once more, and then scattered to the wildflowers as if a little Indian ghost hadn't just taken control of their tiny minds.
"That was so neat." We walked a little further. The sun already felt hot on the top of my head. "It's gonna be another scorcher."
Tully looked up at the sky, swiped at the perspiration on his brow, and hobbled toward the house. "Yep. Best get this done."
The house felt cool inside. I ran for the stairs and took them two at a time. At the top, I spun around and put out a hand to stop Tully who had just reached the second tread. "Wait there. I'll be back before you can count to ten."
I could tell he didn't like the idea, but he looked winded. And he was sweating way more than he should have been for a short walk through the cool woods. I worried that he might have a heart condition or something.
He plopped down on the stairs and waved a hand in the air at me, as if to rid himself of a pesky bug. "Be careful."
I skirted the caved-in section, raced into Tully's childhood bedroom, and rummaged in the hole in the floor for the marbles. At first I thought they weren't there, but after scrabbling around on my stomach and reaching far back, my hand closed around the bag. I brought them back to Tully and sat beside him in the stairwell. "Here you go."
He pretended to frown at me. "I counted to eleven."
A chuckle escaped my lips. "Yeah. At first I thought Penni had taken the whole bag. But it was just pushed way back in the hole."
He wasn't paying attention now, but held the bag in his hands as if I'd just delivered him urns of frankincense and myrrh. With trembling fingers, he opened the drawstring and plunged his hand inside. The marbles bulged and rolled inside the bag, making clicking sounds. After a few seconds of rummaging, his eyes lit up. "Aha!" With a flourish, he removed the ring and held it to the light. "By ji
ngles, this is it."
I watched as he slid it on the fourth finger of his left hand. It flashed when he rotated it in the sun. But suddenly it flickered again, and this time he hadn't turned the stone in the light. It signaled like a lighthouse warning a lost ship on the foggy sea. One two three. One two three.
I touched the ring with a forefinger, and leaned forward in fascination. "Is it Penni again?"
A smile crept over his lips. "Could be. Or… Maybe it's your grandfather."
***
On the way back to his house, Tully became more inquisitive. "So what's up with the twins? Are they okay?"
I hesitated. I didn't want to talk about their private life, but I also didn't want to lie to him. "They will be."
"What happened?"
I kicked a stone with my sneaker and kept it going while we talked. "They got in big trouble."
"How?"
"Elsbeth was fresh to her father. And then he found the books we took from your house. He said they stole them, and made them tell him all about the house."
"I see." He was pensive for a moment. "I'm okay with that, you know. Penni's the one who put you up to it. Right?"
"Right. But Mr. Marggrander doesn't know about you or Penni. He hit them. Elsbeth's face was all red. I didn't see Sig."
His face grayed. "Would it help if I went over there? Told them I gave you permission to borrow the books?"
"I don't know. They'd probably get in trouble for talking to a stranger, if you did. None of us is allowed to do that." I kicked another stone since the first one went too high and disappeared in the woods. "Even though you're our friend now," I hastened to add.
"I see." His eyebrows pinched together.
I walked somberly beside him. "It's better to let it lie, I think. He'll get over it and if they do all the chores on the list, he'll calm down. He always does."
"My parents were pretty tough disciplinarians," Tully said. "But I never had marks on me afterwards."
"Me, neither." I caught site of Tully's shack through the trees. Pancho looked like he was sleeping, with his head hung low and one hind leg relaxed so that just the tip of his hoof touched the grass.
"Your folks are good to you, then?"
I nodded. "They're the best." My stone went wide again. Bored with that game, I began to jump in the air to try to catch grape leaves dangling overhead. "But I'm sorry about how they treated you at the funeral."
"They were fine." His face denied his words.
"No, they acted weird. And I know why."
His startled expression nearly knocked me over. "What? They told you?"
"No, my parents won't tell me anything. Millie Stone told me."
He stopped me in the middle of the road and turned me to face him. "What exactly did she tell you, Gus?"
I stuttered, surprised by his fierce grip. "I—she—she said my grandfather sacrificed his life to save you and your sister. Basically, that's it. She said it was too late for your parents, but he went into a house with the fever, anyway, in spite of the risks. And in spite of the fact that my Grandma Sarah and my mother tried to stop him with all their might."
His hands unclenched and his face returned to normal. "Oh." He started walking again. "Well, that's what happened. I'm glad you're not upset about it."
"Why would I be upset? He was a hero, Mr. Tully."
He glanced sideways at me. "He was. Indeed. He took an amazing risk, and died for us."
"I'm proud of him."
He slipped an arm over my shoulder. "You should be." He jingled the bag of marbles in his free hand. "Would you like these? As a little token of my thanks for the rescue the other night?"
I eyed them with greed. "Oh, man. I'd love them. But if my parents found out, they'd probably make me give them back. I'm not supposed to take gifts from—"
"I know. From strangers."
"I'm sorry."
He shrugged it off. "Not a problem. Some day I vow to make it good between your mom and me."
"Really?"
"Really."
"I'll bet Mrs. Brown could help. My mother loves her."
"Your mother must know Eudora's my sister, doesn't she?"
"Now she does. But it doesn't make sense, does it?"
"What?"
We'd arrived at his doorstep. He pushed open his door and I paused before heading for Pancho.
"It doesn't make sense that she can ‘forgive' Mrs. Brown for surviving instead of my grandfather, but not forgive you."
He froze, keeping his back to me. "I guess not."
"Don't worry. Once she gets to know you, she'll love you, Mr. Tully."
He swung his shaggy head toward me, his features drawn and pale. "I don't know, son."
"Trust me."
A half-smile appeared on his lips. "Now that I can do, young sir. That, I can do. Have a good trip to the sea." He tipped an imaginary hat at me and gently closed the door.
Chapter Thirty-seven
I hadn't seen the twins for two days since they'd been punished, and was relieved Mr. Marggrander actually let them come on vacation. I figured maybe he needed a break after the turmoil of his wife's latest breakdown. Siegfried had called last night to say they'd finished all their chores by six, just barely in time to pack and get ready for today's trip. Although he'd been subdued, he didn't sound like he hated me, so I guessed Elsbeth had kept quiet about the kiss.
He sat down gingerly when he got into the car. I exchanged a soulful glance with him, and he shook his head and looked in my parents' direction. I knew he didn't want me to ask him about it in front of them. Elsbeth's face had mostly healed, and just a touch of redness remained. If my parents noticed, they didn't say anything. They might have thought it was sunburn or a scrape. It was just as well. Stirring up more trouble at the Marggrander house was ill advised. The twins knew how to avoid getting in trouble for the most part, although Elsbeth's temper sometimes got in the way.
We'd been on the road for almost four hours when my transistor radio picked up a radio station near Albany after an hour of static. "Do You Believe in Magic," by The Lovin' Spoonful sizzled through the wire into my earpiece. Elsbeth slept on my shoulder, her warm breath puffing against my ear. She'd fallen asleep almost an hour ago. Siegfried was lost in a calculus workbook, head down and pencil scribbling furiously. He'd said just a few words all morning. And Shadow curled on my lap, sleeping and occasionally kicking his legs as if he were chasing rabbits.
When we passed the rest stop signs, my mother draped her arm over the back of the bench seat, her fingertips touching my father's shoulder. She'd seemed more relaxed than ever, and occasionally smiled back at us.
She motioned for me to remove my earpiece and spoke quietly so she wouldn't wake Elsbeth. "Are you boys hungry? I have egg salad or tuna sandwiches, Fritos, and apples."
My stomach had been growling for over an hour. "I'm starving!"
Siegfried looked up from his workbook, refocused on the world around him, and blinked. "Ja. Bitte. I'm hungry too."
My father glanced at us in the rearview mirror. "I'm ravenous. And just in time. There's a picnic area coming up in four-point-two miles."
When we approached the turnoff, I gently shook Elsbeth awake. She rubbed her eyes and looked around with confusion, as if she'd forgotten we were locked in a station wagon for endless hours. I envied her ability to escape the boredom.
Elsbeth stretched and yawned, then looked at me with a secret expression in her eyes. She'd acted totally normal—as if we'd never kissed—and I began to wonder if it had meant anything to her. But just now the look in her eyes that flashed so warm—like melting chocolate chips—dove straight into my heart and churned it up. I responded with a furtive smile, squeezed her hand with no one noticing, and went back to friendship mode before Siegfried tuned in.
"Where are we?" She sat up straighter and peered out the window.
"Near Albany," I said. "But we're stopping for lunch."
Shadow woke up and pressed his nose to
the window, his tail wagging furiously.
My father pulled in beside some picnic tables and put the Oldsmobile in park. "Almost to Massachusetts, kids."
We tumbled out into the grassy area and lined up three abreast at the closest picnic table. I tied Shadow's leash to the foot of the table, and he eventually lay down in the grass at my feet next to the bowl of water my dad set out for him. My mother spread a tablecloth and in minutes we all chomped on the feast. I ate three sandwiches, the majority of the Fritos, and still had room for an apple. And I sneaked all of my crusts to Shadow, who instantly devoured them. After we'd stuffed ourselves, we piled back in the station wagon and to my surprise, I fell asleep.
I woke when we pulled into the driveway of the Tully cottage.
"This is it. Sixty-eight West Boulevard." My father pointed to the water below. "And that's Sunset Cove, kids. That's where you'll swim."
My mother stood in awe before the faded blue house. "Oh my. It's a Victorian. And look at that wraparound porch."
The house overlooked a grassy hill above the beach. My jaw dropped when I realized how close we were to the ocean. We'd literally be able to walk outside, down the hill, and onto the sand. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and licked my dry lips.
Outside the car, salty air wafted around us. The scent mesmerized me. I licked my lips again, and tasted brine. My hair—growing longer each day—actually lifted in the breeze. Siegfried put his arm around his sister and they both stared at the blue bay glistening below, dotted with sailboats, cabin cruisers, and even a small yacht. Seagulls whirled overhead, and the shouts of children on the beach rose to greet us.
I put Shadow on his leash so he wouldn't run away and chase seagulls, and we approached an old door with stained glass panels. It looked like some of the panes had been broken in the past and replaced with clear glass. I wondered if some kid had shot his baseball through them, and gotten in big trouble. Maybe Tully, when he was a boy?
Just to the right of the door hung a black iron nautical bell with a sailboat on it. I couldn't resist, and reached over to clang it. It emitted a rich, warm tone.
Don't Let the Wind Catch You (LeGarde Mysteries Book 6) Page 13
