by Elise Broach
Henry gasped, and Simon interjected, “Wait a second—that’s our uncle!”
CHAPTER 14
“THEY WEREN’T THE SAME…”
EMMETT STARED AT THEM. “Huh?”
“Hank Cormody! He’s our uncle.”
“Yeah,” Jack added. “We just moved into his house.”
Delilah turned to Henry in wonderment. “Everybody knows your uncle,” she said. “The lady at the library, now this guy…”
Emmett was still looking confused. “Hank Cormody was your uncle? But you’re way too young—”
“Well, he’s our great-uncle,” Simon amended. “But we’re still related to him.”
“And you’re living in his house?”
Simon nodded. “We inherited it.”
“Well, isn’t that something! So you’re Hank Cormody’s family. It’s funny, you know, because he pretty much kept to himself, but Hank was a legend around here.” Emmett stood up, swinging the door wide. “Here, why don’t you come in? I’ll get that booklet for you.”
“Sure!” Jack said. His bike clattered to the ground, and he charged up the stoop past the others.
Delilah watched disapprovingly. “I’ll wait here,” she said primly.
Henry looked at Simon. They weren’t allowed to go into a stranger’s house, not ever. But it was worse to let Jack go by himself. And this guy did know their uncle … so he wasn’t a total stranger. Simon seemed to have come to the same conclusion, because he hopped off his bike and climbed the steps of the porch two at a time. With a sheepish glance at Delilah, Henry followed.
The inside of Emmett Trask’s house was dark and messy, in a way that made Henry immediately feel relaxed. Nobody would have to worry about tracking mud or leaving water rings on a table here. Two of the walls were lined with bookshelves, and the large wood table at one end of the living room held several teetering piles of books and papers. An enormous map hung over a desk in one corner. When Henry walked over for a closer look, he saw that it was a patchwork of pastel colors, covered with tiny lines and numbers.
“It’s a geological survey map of this area.” Emmett stood behind him. “Those numbers are the elevations: how high the land is at each point.”
“Cool,” Henry said, studying the cluster of wavy, numbered lines that marked the slopes of the mountain.
“Wow!” Jack cried from a distant room. “Look at all these ROCKS!”
Henry could hear Simon hiss something in rebuke.
“You found my office,” Emmett said, unconcerned. Henry thought the living room looked like an office too, cluttered as it was with books and papers.
Jack emerged from a back hallway with Simon close behind him. “How come you have all those rocks?”
“It’s what I do,” Emmett said, pointing to the desk, where Henry noticed a shallow tray full of rocks. “I’m a geologist.” He scanned the bookshelf and plucked a familiar-looking pale pamphlet from a batch at the end of a row of books. “Is this what you were looking for?” he asked, handing it to Henry.
“Yes!” Henry wanted to flip to the missing page, but he restrained himself. The booklet was crisp and new. “Thanks,” he said, feeling shy.
“Yeah, thanks,” Simon echoed, pushing Jack ahead of him. “We should head home. We’ve been riding around for hours.”
They crowded onto the porch, where Delilah stood at the bottom with her bike leaning against her hip, looking both nervous and annoyed.
“It’s time to go. We’ve been here too long,” she said to Henry in an accusing voice.
“Yeah, I know,” Henry agreed. “We’re leaving now.” He turned to Emmett with the pamphlet in his hand. “Does this have everything? All the people who’ve disappeared?”
Emmett hesitated. “It’s as complete as we could make it. We went back and looked at the records from the late 1800s, though of course that time isn’t well documented. So many of those disappearances aren’t confirmed. But it’s got pretty much everything, except…”
“Except what?” Delilah asked. She took the booklet from Henry and placed it in her basket with the library books.
“Well…” Emmett hesitated again. “There have been disappearances on the mountain that aren’t recorded in the book, because the people were found eventually.”
“Found alive?” Simon asked. “That doesn’t count, then. It’s not a disappearance if they turn up.”
“Right,” Emmett agreed. “That was my argument for not including them on the list. Although … well, they were found, but they weren’t the same. They came back from the mountain changed.”
CHAPTER 15
THE LAST PAGE
HENRY STARED AT HIM. “What do you mean?”
Emmett took a deep breath. “This stuff only feeds the rumors about the mountain. It’s why your parents are so worried about you going anywhere near it.”
“What stuff?” Simon demanded. “What are you talking about?”
Emmett rubbed his forehead. “Have you heard anything about Sara Delgado?”
They looked at him blankly.
“Do you know what a fugue state is?”
Henry thought fugue sounded like a cloud of smelly perfume.
“A fugue state is kind of a walking coma,” Emmett told them. “In other words, the person is out of it, can’t remember anything that’s happened to them, doesn’t know who or where they are, but is able to function normally otherwise.”
“Like amnesia?” Henry asked. He once read a book about someone who got hit on the head and developed amnesia, forgetting everything about his former life.
“Yes, like that. Sara Delgado is a local girl, daughter of the caretaker at the cemetery. To be honest, I don’t think she was all there to begin with; she was kind of spacey and hard to talk to. But, anyway, last summer, she went missing. Had a fight with her father and went up the mountain. She was gone for three days. A search party found her, scratches and bruises all over her body, terrified out of her mind. She was in a fugue state. She’s never been able to remember what happened to her.”
Henry shuddered. “That’s spooky.”
“Yeah,” Jack whispered.
Delilah twirled one braid, saying nothing.
Simon pursed his lips, studying the booklet propped innocuously in Delilah’s basket. “So you’re saying she’s not on the list? Which means that not every strange thing that’s happened on the mountain is in the book.”
“Exactly,” Emmett said. “But the Sara Delgado thing is unexplained right now; that doesn’t mean there isn’t an explanation. We just don’t have enough information to know what it is.”
“Not everything has to have an explanation,” Delilah snapped. “Some things just happen.”
They all turned to her in surprise, and Simon said, “Sure, some things happen, but there’s usually an explanation.”
“It’s time to go,” Delilah repeated. “Our moms will be mad.”
“Do you want to call home? You’re welcome to use the phone.” Emmett sounded apologetic. “I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”
“You didn’t scare us,” Simon said quickly. “And besides, I would rather know what’s going on, even if it’s scary. Nobody else would tell us anything.”
That was how Simon was, Henry realized—he would always rather know the truth. Henry himself wasn’t so sure. What were those two sayings? Knowledge is power and Ignorance is bliss. Which was more true? Henry wondered. Maybe it depended on what the knowledge was. In the case of Superstition Mountain, ignorance might be better. Henry was beginning to understand why their parents didn’t want to talk about Superstition Mountain. But at least Emmett Trask hadn’t given them the usual grown-up runaround.
“Well, now you know. That’s the reason your parents don’t want you on the mountain,” Emmett concluded. “Not because of ghosts or curses—just because it’s a dangerous place. If you run into trouble up there, it’s hard to get help.”
“Yeah, it sounds like it,” Simon said. “Thanks again for
the book.”
“Of course,” said Emmett. “I’ll see you guys around town, I’m sure. Maybe at the library.” He smiled at them.
They climbed on their bikes, and Delilah organized the books, positioning them carefully in her basket. Then they rode down the gravel drive toward home.
* * *
It was almost evening by the time they reached their neighborhood, and they were all starving.
“We forgot to have lunch!” Jack cried, horrified.
“There wasn’t time,” Simon said. “And now dinner will be almost ready.”
“I don’t want dinner,” Jack whined. “I want to have lunch.”
“Well, it’s too late. You can’t go back and have lunch—you missed it.”
Henry could see Jack’s lower lip start to tremble. “You were supposed to take care of me,” he complained. “You forgot to give me lunch!”
“We’re not your babysitters,” Simon snapped. “Unless you’re a BABY.”
“I want lunch and dinner.”
“It’s okay, Jack,” Henry told him. “You can ask Mom for something when we get home.” Privately, Henry thought it was unlikely that Mrs. Barker would give him anything before dinner (it was already five thirty), but the missed lunch was exactly the type of thing that upset Jack—something he was owed and felt cheated out of.
Delilah braked to a stop at the corner of her street. She took the Arizona history book from her basket and handed it to Henry, then gave him Emmett Trask’s booklet.
“Tell me what it says, okay?” she said. “I wish we had time to read it now.”
“Yeah, me too. But I’ll look at it tonight and call you if there’s anything interesting,” Henry promised.
“Thanks.” Delilah smiled at him. “My number is 555–3233. Can you remember that?”
Henry nodded. “The first three are the same as our number, and the last part is easy—3233.”
“And I’ll look at the book of legends,” Delilah added.
“We should check for stuff on the computer too.” She turned and rode away, her braids streaming over her shoulders.
“She was actually kind of useful,” Simon commented. “At least more useful than I expected. Especially with the library card.”
“Ugh!” Jack bellowed over his shoulder, racing ahead. “She’s a GIRL!”
“Well,” Henry said, “some girls are useful.”
* * *
That night over dinner, the boys gave a much-abbreviated description of their day to their parents.
“But you were gone so long!” Mrs. Barker protested.
“You told us not to interrupt you,” Simon answered coolly. “You said you needed to work.”
“I did need to work, and I must admit, I got a lot done,” Mrs. Barker answered. “But I didn’t expect you to be gone all day! You didn’t even come back for lunch.”
Jack looked aggrieved all over again. “And I was really hungry,” he complained.
Mrs. Barker rubbed the bridge of her nose and straightened her glasses. “Simon, I expect you to be the responsible one.”
“I am the responsible one!” Simon exploded. “I watched him when we crossed the streets. I kept an eye on him at the library. Next time I’m just going to leave him home.”
Jack shot Henry a worried glance. “It’s okay,” he announced magnanimously. “I’m not hungry anymore. I ate my whole dinner.”
Neither outburst fazed Mrs. Barker. “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t check in with me,” she continued. “Do you mean to say you were riding around town the whole afternoon? I find that hard to believe.”
“We did check in,” Simon countered. “We checked in with Dad. We stopped at his office.”
“Did they?” Their mother turned to their father in exasperation. “You could have told me.”
“Yeah, Dad, you should have told her,” Simon echoed.
“It’s Dad’s fault,” Henry agreed.
“Now, hold on.” Mr. Barker lifted his hands in front of his chest. “You guys came by for less than ten minutes. I seem to recall you raided my office for a map, then took off. Care to explain where you went?”
Henry and Simon exchanged glances. “We were just riding around,” Henry said.
“With Delilah?” Mr. Barker turned to Mrs. Barker. “I met our illustrious cat finder.”
“Isn’t she cute?” Mrs. Barker smiled. “With all those freckles, she looks like someone dunked her in cinnamon.”
Henry wrinkled his nose. Their mother had a habit of saying sappy things like that.
“No, she doesn’t,” Jack argued. “She’s SPOTTED.”
“Well, I think she’s adorable,” Mrs. Barker said. “And I’m glad you boys have at least one friend in the neighborhood now. She seems like a sweet girl.”
Their mother often referred to girls this way: cute, sweet, adorable. Henry sometimes wondered if she wished she had a girl, instead of three boys. Or maybe in addition to three boys. Did she want someone who would dress in frilly outfits? Play with dolls? Or do any of the other innumerable, boring things that girls liked to do, like make up stories with their plastic horses, or fix each other’s hair, or talk for hours about the silly things people said at school?
“Can we be excused?” Simon asked, in a tone that made it sound like an order. “To play outside before it’s dark?”
“All right,” Mrs. Barker decided. “But stay in the yard this time, okay? And, Simon…”
Simon, halfway out the sliding glass door, groaned.
“Honey, I mean it. Next time, you need to call and let me know what’s going on. I realize this is a new place and you’re having fun exploring, but I need to know where you boys are. That you’re all right.”
“Okay, Mom!” They fled before she could think up any more rules for them.
Out in the dusky yard, Henry opened the crisp copy of Missing on Superstition Mountain and placed it on the tufted patch of grass between them, smoothing it flat. He turned to the page that had been torn from the booklet at the library.
“Okay, let’s see what it says,” he said to Simon and Jack.
“Yeah, what does it say?” Jack cried. “Read it!”
Henry cleared his throat. “The last one I read was 1947, right? The guy who was decapitated?”
“With no head!” Jack said enthusiastically.
“Jack, not so loud,” Simon warned. “Do you want them to come out here and ask what we’re talking about?”
“No,” Jack whispered, chastened.
“Okay, listen,” Henry began. “‘1951 … body of Dr. John Burns found. Cause of death: gunshot wound to chest. 1952 … skeleton of Joseph Kelley found near Weaver’s Needle—’”
“Again, it’s by the landmark,” Simon noted.
“Keep reading,” Jack urged.
“Okay, okay,” Henry said. “‘1952 … skeleton of Joseph Kelley found near Weaver’s Needle. Disappearance of—’” He stopped. His eyes widened.
“What?” Simon asked. “Disappearance of what?”
Henry lifted his head slowly, his finger pressed to the page like a dart stuck to a bull’s-eye. “‘Disappearance of three Texas boys. Presumed dead; bodies never recovered.’”
CHAPTER 16
TELLING SOMEONE
NOBODY SAID ANYTHING, not even Jack. To Henry, the silence was deafening.
Simon took the booklet from him and read the line to himself. His eyebrows knit together. “What should we do?”
Henry was so startled to be asked that by Simon, he could only stare at him.
Jack bounced forward on his knees. “It’s the skulls!” he whispered fiercely. “We found them!”
“Well,” Simon ventured, “it might not be those same boys. Just because we found the skulls together doesn’t mean they belonged to people who were together on the mountain.”
That could be true, Henry realized. But deep inside, he felt that it wasn’t. “We should have brought them back with us,” he said, turning to Si
mon. “I wanted to, remember? You said no.”
Simon looked down at the page. “I didn’t think it mattered. I mean, they’d been up there for such a long time! And I was right about that. You said the Texas boys went missing in 1952.”
Henry bit his lip. He knew there was no point in blaming Simon. “Okay, okay. What do we do now?”
“Tell someone, I guess,” Simon said reluctantly.
“Let’s call Delilah.”
“I meant a grown-up.”
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Why would we tell her? She doesn’t know anything about those skulls.”
Henry hesitated. “But she knows about the other stuff, and she’s … she’s part of it now.”
“But—” Jack started to complain again, but Henry glared at him. “Okay,” he said glumly. “You’ll be sorry.”
Simon shrugged. “Fine. I don’t care—tell Delilah. But that doesn’t solve the problem. I think we have to call the police. Those three guys have been missing for, like, sixty years.”
Henry said slowly, “Their parents probably aren’t even alive anymore.” For some reason that seemed too sad to contemplate.
“What if their parents are alive and have wondered all this time what happened to them?” Simon asked softly. They were silent, staring at the page.
Jack sat back on his heels, looking worried. “What if we can’t find the canyon again?”
This was a good point, Henry had to admit. What if they told the police, led them up the mountain, and then couldn’t find the skulls? Nobody would believe them. And they’d have to admit they went up the mountain in the first place, which would cause all kinds of trouble with their parents.
Simon looked grim. “If we tell Mom and Dad we were on the mountain, they’ll probably ground us for the rest of the summer.”
Henry thought for a minute. “What if we go up the mountain again and get the skulls ourselves? We could bring them back here and … maybe we could say we found them in the desert?”
Simon frowned. “I don’t know. That’s probably the same as disturbing a crime scene.” He wavered. “But it’s been so long. I don’t think that ledge where we found the skulls is where they died. There were no other bones there. And the skulls were lined up in a row.”
