Don't Let the Wind Catch You

Home > Mystery > Don't Let the Wind Catch You > Page 9
Don't Let the Wind Catch You Page 9

by Aaron Paul Lazar


  He went into some kind of trance, staring and staring until I finally cleared my throat. "Who are they?" After a few seconds, it finally dawned on me. "Wait! That's my grandfather Wright, isn't it?"

  He brushed the corner of one eye and turned back to me. "Indeed, it is. Your grandfather Marlowe, and our friend, Zachariah. But Marlowe always called him Zak."

  "Mr. Tully!" I leaned forward to look and almost fell off the block.

  "Indeed, my boy. Do you know Zachariah?" One eyebrow arched up and the other slid down.

  "I do. He's my friend." I answered before I thought about what I was saying, then panicked. "But don't tell my mother, please. She doesn't like him. She told me to steer clear of him."

  He glanced across the street toward the pharmacy. "Never fear, my boy. She's still chatting with your father."

  "Do you know why she hates him so much?"

  He busied himself again at my ankles. "Well. Er." With a quick tug on my pants, he changed the subject. "Did you know Marlowe, Zachariah, and I went to Germany? That shot is from Munich. We toured Europe that summer, just after we graduated from high school." He furiously pinned again. "When my parents moved to Conaroga, I was in my junior year of high school. Those two boys befriended me when I felt rather out of place. We became the best of chums."

  "Really? Then what happened? My mother wasn't even born then, right?"

  "Of course not. Her daddy hadn't even married. But then we all went off to war, and when we came back, your grandfather proposed to Sarah."

  "My grandma."

  "Right."

  "And then what?"

  "Well, she married him. A year or so later, your mother was born."

  "Did you all stay friends?"

  "We did. We were the best of friends. But Marlowe and Zak had a very special friendship. It's as if they were linked somehow. Like kindred spirits."

  "Wow. Mr. Tully told me my grandfather was a ‘prince among men.' What does that mean?"

  Mr. Roberts glanced across the street. Still no sign of my mother. "Well, it means Marlowe was a splendid human being. A true humanitarian. He sacrificed his life for Zachariah and his family. In a way."

  "What?" I gawked down at him.

  "You know how your grandfather died, right?"

  "No. Not really."

  The door opened and my mother bustled inside. I almost screamed from frustration.

  "How's it going, gentlemen?"

  Mr. Roberts stood and straightened his shoulders. "We're doing fabulously. Does the boy need a new shirt, too?"

  I stared in frustration at Mr. Roberts, but didn't dare look at the picture again. Did my mother know that Marlowe, Tully, and he were friends? She hadn't been alive then, so maybe she didn't realize. I wondered if she'd patronize him so willingly, knowing how she reacted to me even bumping into Tully's cabin in the woods.

  I could tell my mother was calculating how much money she had left in the floating fund. Her eyes rose to the ceiling for a minute, then back to her hands. "Um. Yes. I do think one nice white shirt would be in order. A pair of black Oxfords, a simple black leather belt, one pair of black socks, and we'll be all set."

  "Splendid. I'll see to it."

  With that, the source of all my information disappeared into the back room to leave me stewing in frustration.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  "Want the usual cut?" Ned snapped his red and white striped cloth, tied it around my neck, and clicked his scissors too close for comfort.

  I gripped the armrests on the chair. "No! Just take off a little, please."

  My mother laid her hand on my arm to calm me, and then leaned toward Ned in a conspiratorial tone. "We're going to let our boy start growing his hair out, Ned. Would you please just even it up around his ears? And trim the back so it's not quite so scraggly?"

  I relaxed. I'd pictured Ned flipping on his buzzing clippers and scalping me before I could get a word in. "Thanks, Mum."

  "It's okay, honey." She patted my arm again, then perched nearby on a black leather chair with chrome arms.

  Ned grumbled. "You kids with your long hair are gonna put me out of business."

  My mother laughed to lighten the mood. "Oh, heavens. That could never happen, Ned, could it? By the way, how's your wife doing? Is she back from Florida yet?"

  I zoned out and let them chatter about grandkids and Florida oranges and who knew what else. All I could think about was Tully and my grandfather. Along with Mr. Roberts, the free-spirited trio traveled all over Europe. The three boys had probably backpacked through mountains and across villages, drank wine and beer, and slept in fields under a canopy of twinkling stars.

  The picture of them kept coming back to me. All three were blondish and tousle-haired, with big grins. Their arms had been draped casually over each other's shoulders, and there had been such a carefree attitude that just looking at the picture made me smile. The mountains in the background, the half-timbered houses, the cobblestone street that led to a church behind them… It was all so exotic. Some day, I'd have to try to retrace my grandfather's steps and take Europe by storm with Siegfried and Elsbeth, just like Marlowe Wright had done. Ned pumped the chair up a little higher, going to work on the nape of my neck.

  "Head down, please."

  I held my breath while the barber trimmed and snipped. "Not too short, please."

  I closed my eyes. Images of my grandfather swam behind my eyelids. I wanted a copy of Mr. Roberts' snapshot, and wondered if I stopped by later in the week if he would try to find the negative.

  ***

  The rest of the shopping trip was a whirlwind. Try on shoes. Choose new belt. Try on shirt. Try on hemmed pants, shirt, shoes, and belt together to be sure it looked okay. By the time we finished up, I was starving again and couldn't wait to get out of the store and just go home. I didn't dare mention Tully or even look at the picture while my mother stood nearby. After an agonizing time, we finally finished up and she drove me home. The Oldsmobile purred into the driveway at one o'clock.

  "I'll make you a nice bowl of tomato soup if you want, dear."

  "Okay. With saltines?"

  "Sure. Go change into your play clothes. It'll be ready when you come down."

  I flew up the stairs with my packages, dumped them on the bed, and used the bathroom. I stepped out of my good jeans and shirt, grabbed a pair of hole-riddled dungarees and an old t-shirt from the dresser, and slid into my PF Flyers. I needed to inhale my soup and get out to the barn. I skidded down the stairs and picked up the phone to call the twins.

  "Sig? How about a ride? Forty-five minutes? Okay. Meet you halfway."

  My mother stirred the Campbell's soup in a silver pot on the stove. "Hungry?"

  "Starving."

  She set the table with two white bowls and crackers while I took down two glasses and filled them with milk.

  "Want cheese in your soup?"

  "Nope. I mean, no thanks. I'm too hungry to wait."

  "I could make you a grilled cheese to go with it."

  As tempting as the idea was, I shook my head. I wanted to get to Tully's to learn more.

  ***

  We knocked on Tully's door and waited for an answer. When shuffling inside was our only answer, Siegfried took the lead. He knocked harder.

  "Mr. Tully? Are you in there?"

  More footsteps, then finally, the slow creaking of the door. He poked his head outside. Today his face looked sunken, more haunted.

  "Come in, children."

  No smile, no warm greeting.

  Elsbeth went to work, scampering over to his side and taking his hand. "Mr. Tully, you don't look well. Are you all right?"

  He limped to the couch and lowered himself slowly to the cushion. "I'm just a little sore, Elsbeth. Didn't Gus tell you what happened?"

  The twins turned to stare at me with accusing eyes.

  "I—er… I didn't have a chance to tell them. I was out all morning, and then we just rushed over here."

  Tully flashed a
wan smile at me. "Well, there wasn't that much to tell, I guess. I fell through the floorboards in my parents' old house." He hitched himself backward and leaned sideways on a pillow, finishing. "And Gus, here, came to my rescue."

  Elsbeth jabbed me in the ribs. "When? And where is his parent's house?"

  I felt like I'd betrayed them by not spilling the story sooner. "Um.. Last night. I think it was last night. It seems like ages ago."

  Tully groaned. "It was indeed last night, son."

  I bore the stares of the twins as long as I could stand it, and then the words tumbled out. When I got to the part about Penni, their eyes widened.

  Siegfried backed up a few steps and almost banged into the coffee table. "Mein Gott!"

  I kept going as if it were the most natural thing in the world to talk about ghosts and midnight rides through the dark woods.

  When I was done, Elsbeth perched beside Tully and stroked his arm. "That was your house, Mr. Tully? You grew up there?"

  He nodded, imperceptibly. "It was."

  I sidled up to them and perched on the couch beside him. "Mr. Tully. I saw a picture of you and my grandfather at the barber shop today."

  He looked at me with such sadness I almost broke down and cried myself.

  With an obvious effort, he collected himself. "Did Mr. Roberts tell you where we were in that shot?"

  I nodded. "He said you three guys traveled all over Europe together."

  The twins looked at me with surprise. Siegfried mouthed the words, "The tailor?"

  Tully leaned back on a cushion to try to get more comfortable. "We certainly did. It was a time of freedom, of passion, and of pioneering. We had no itinerary and wandered free as birds across France, Germany, and Austria."

  Siegfried picked up a copy of the Bible that lay on the table by the couch. He flipped through it, and then spoke with a hoarse croak. "I wonder if you passed Buchenwald. That's where my mother's family was killed."

  Elsbeth shot her brother a steely-eyed reprimand. "Not now." She patted the back of Tully's hand and peered into his face. "Mr. Tully. What's wrong? You seem so very sad."

  A ripple of energy passed through the room. Pages flipped again on Tully's bedside book. Tin cups rattled on the wall. And the familiar scent of peppermint wafted in through the open windows.

  "Ah. Penni's back." He looked to his right. "Where were you, girl?"

  We watched while he chuckled. His spirits seemed to lift. "Penni says I need to get ready."

  Elsbeth and I exchanged a puzzled glance.

  "Ready for what?" she asked.

  The old hermit looked at each of us in turn, then heaved himself off the couch and walked to the door. He opened it and stared into the woods. "You are good children. I'm glad you came today. But I won't be around tomorrow. You can come again later in the week if you wish."

  Siegfried followed him to the door. "Is everything all right, Mr. Tully? Where are you going?"

  Tully put a hand on Sig's shoulder, but continued to look toward the woods. "Not far."

  Tully had retreated into his own world. He didn't say another word, but ushered us outside with a slow hand motion. We shuffled reluctantly onto the stoop.

  I caught his hand before he closed the door. "Sir? If you need me again, you just let me know. Or send Penni. We're here for you. We're your friends."

  The old man's eyes filled with tears. He squeezed my hand, then gently disengaged and closed the door.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  "Holy cow." Siegfried seemed to have recovered from his thoughts of Buchenwald. His eyes shone again. "Penni actually showed herself to you?"

  I untied Pancho's reins from a honeysuckle bush. "Yeah." His excitement stirred me and a thrill chased up my spine. "It was so keen, guys. Like she was really standing there."

  "What did she look like?" Elsbeth mounted her palomino and turned his head toward the woods in the direction of the old Tully homestead. "Could you see what she was wearing?"

  I swung onto Pancho's back and smiled. "No. I couldn't see her for real. Just the shape of her. Sort of."

  Siegfried listened with fascination and nudged Frisbee closer to Pancho. "But you saw the curtain move, in and out. Right? Like she actually was breathing?"

  "Yeah. It was spooky, but for some reason she kept me calm inside. Like everything would be okay if I just high-tailed it over to the old house."

  Sig noticed Elsbeth heading in the opposite direction of home. "Where are you going?"

  She twisted around and flashed a coy smile. "To Tully's old house, of course. I want to check it out more."

  I trotted toward her. "But it's not safe. There's a huge hole in the ceiling now."

  "We won't go upstairs."

  "Okay."

  Sig joined us and squeezed his horse closer to mine. "Mr. Roberts was friends with Tully and your grandfather Wright?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. I don't think my mother even knew."

  "Mein Gott. Who could imagine him traveling through Europe? He seems so… um…"

  Elsbeth turned to help. "He's a little bit of a sissy. Walks funny, and holds his hand like this." She held up her hand with a limp wrist. "But he's nice. He always asks me how I am, and gives me a lollypop when I'm waiting in the store for my mother. I like him."

  Siegfried continued. "Ja. It's hard to picture him backpacking all over Europe."

  I clucked to Pancho to keep him moving. He kept trying to rip leaves off the maple saplings that hung low. "You wouldn't believe how young they looked. All three of them were blond, with hair longer than yours, Sig. They looked healthy and wicked happy."

  Elsbeth sighed. "I wish I'd known Mr. Tully then."

  "Me, too. And my grandfather. I really wish I could've known him."

  Siegfried pointed to the house that loomed in the distance. "There it is. It's so weird that you were here last night."

  "I know. I can't believe it, either." I chuckled but my nerves jumped a little at the memory.

  Elsbeth slid neatly off Golden Boy and tethered him to the fence. "Come on. Let's check it out."

  ***

  In spite of our determination not to check out the second floor, we found ourselves in Tully's bedroom an hour later. Somehow, knowing it was his bedroom made it all the more exciting. I knelt near the opening of his narrow closet and peered at the floorboard that had been dislodged to reveal a large hidy-hole. "This must be where he kept his box."

  "What box?" Elsbeth crouched beside me and peered into the dark space.

  "The reason he came here last night was to get a metal box. It had papers and pictures in it and it fell through the hole in the floor down to the living room. I picked it up for him."

  "Pictures of what?" she asked.

  "I couldn't see very well. It was dark, and the flashlight was getting dim. I think it was people, mostly."

  Siegfried surprised me, appearing at my shoulder. "It's odd that Tully would go out in the middle of the night to get an old box of pictures. Why not wait until daylight?"

  I leaned forward to reach my hand into the hole. "I don't know. I never thought to ask him."

  Elsbeth put a hand to her mouth. "Gus. I hope there aren't spiders in there."

  I didn't tell her I'd pushed aside some spider webs already. "Nah. I'm just wondering if there's anything else…"

  I leaned down further and put my arm up to my elbow into the hole. My hand scrabbled over the dusty boards, reaching further into the dark. "I feel something."

  My fingers closed around a small cloth sack. I drew it out and sat on my haunches. "Hey. Look at this."

  The twins crowded around me. I opened the drawstring and peered inside. "I think it's marbles."

  "Let's see." Elsbeth grabbed the bag from my hand. "Hold your hands together while I pour them out."

  I did as she asked. As I thought, a dozen marbles rolled into my hand.

  Siegfried leaned close to take a look, and plucked something else out of the pile. "What's this?" He held a ring between two
fingers.

  Elsbeth squealed with delight. "Let me see." She took it and slipped it onto her forefinger, but she could have put two fingers inside it. Large and chunky, it held a square purple stone.

  She turned it in the light and practically crooned at it. "It's a man's ring. Ooo, it's so pretty. I think it's an amethyst."

  "Is it gold?" I leaned closer and took her finger in my hand to inspect it.

  Siegfried slid it off his sister's finger and brought it over to the window. "Let me see it."

  He turned it around in the light. "I think so. It's heavy. And it's definitely not brass."

  Elsbeth plopped onto the floor and sighed. "I'll bet Mr. Tully would want it. Maybe he thought it was in that box."

  Guilt slammed me. With a start, I realized how intrusive we were being. I took the ring from Siegfried and put it back into the marble sack. "Maybe. But we have no business going through his things like this. I'm putting it back."

  The twins looked disappointed, but I did it anyway. I slid the board back over the hole to protect it from robbers who might find the house and search for valuables. When I turned to face the twins again, they were staring at the window curtain. It rippled. Once. Twice. A tiny gust of wind whirled through the dust and out into the hallway.

  "She wants us to follow her," Elsbeth whispered. "Come on."

  Chapter Twenty-six

  A puff of dust flew off the top stair, swirling down the staircase and around the corner into the living room. We followed it and stood three abreast in the doorway clutching each other's hands. I licked my lips and tasted peppermint.

  Elsbeth whispered, "Let’s watch where she goes."

  Ghostly squiggles appeared in the dust on the coffee table. I pictured her walking beside it, trailing her fingers along the smooth surface. Someone sat on the horsehair sofa. Indentations where her phantom bottom sat depressed the cushion, bouncing up and down.

  Siegfried whistled softly. "She's playing with us."

  Penni left the sofa and rose to the ceiling, where she tinkled the crystals on the chandelier not far from the gaping hole Tully nearly fell through. The musical sound made me smile.

  "Look!" I pointed to the cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling, which seemed to twirl around an ethereal finger. Faster and faster, they reminded me of a cotton candy machine.

 

‹ Prev