The Girl from Felony Bay

by J. E. Thompson

  Rufus and I jumped off the back porch and started around the side of the house. I was planning to skirt the edges of the yard, staying in the shadows where Uncle Charlie wouldn’t see me, and we were halfway around when I noticed Uncle Charlie’s pickup truck was parked in a totally strange place.

  On most nights he parked the truck out in the open to keep from getting leaves and bird poop on his windshield, which usually happened if he parked beneath one of the live oaks. However, tonight he had not only backed the truck all the way under a tree, but he had gone so far back that the truck bed was jammed into group of oleander bushes.

  At first I suspected that Uncle Charlie had come home even drunker than usual. My second theory was that he’d backed into some car and driven away without reporting it, and then parked that way to keep anyone from seeing the truck’s damaged rear end.

  Curious, I pushed into the oleanders to check out the back of the truck. At first I was confused, because there was nothing visible, not even a fresh scratch or a tiny new dent. But then I noticed the big tarp in the truck bed and the large object underneath it. With a fresh surge of curiosity, I wondered if there was something under the tarp that Uncle Charlie was trying to hide. With him just around the corner having his whiskey on the porch and Ruth in the kitchen heating up canned slop for dinner, I knew it was risky, but I also wanted to find out what was under that tarp.

  Being as quiet as possible, I put one foot on the rear tire and stepped into the truck bed. I got down on my knees, took one last look up at the house, and lifted the edge of the tarp.

  At first it was too dark to see. I could only make out what looked like a very rough, square object, so I pushed more branches aside and pulled off more of the tarp. My heart started to beat faster, because I could now see that what was underneath was an ancient crate. There was a hasp on the crate’s lid with a very old-fashioned, rusty padlock on it, which was hanging loose.

  My very first thought was that all the stuff about the Lovely Clarisse was true and Uncle Charlie had somehow discovered the gold. But almost right away I realized that a few things didn’t make sense. First, if the chest had been buried for many years, it would have been damp and covered with dirt. This one was clean and dry as a bone. Also, knowing Uncle Charlie, if he had found treasure, he would have been yelling and screaming his head off. But he wasn’t doing that. So what was in the crate, and why was it hidden?

  I slipped the padlock off the latch and raised the lid a few inches. A musty smell hit me, as if the crate had been closed for a long time. I tried to see inside, but with the sun going down, the tarp mostly covering the crate, and all the oleander branches, there wasn’t enough light. I pushed the tarp off completely, hoping Uncle Charlie wouldn’t pick that moment to come around the side of the house and check on his truck.

  When I raised the lid a second time, I felt a rush of disappointment. The crate was completely empty. But if that was the case, why bother to jam it into the bushes like this and try to hide it?

  None of this made sense, but I certainly couldn’t ask Ruth or Uncle Charlie. I let down the lid, put the padlock back on the latch, and smoothed the tarp back over it so it looked undisturbed. Then I slipped off the truck and cut around the side of the yard, my head pounding with questions. Rufus trotted ahead of me, sniffing hard and at one point chasing a rabbit out from the high grass along the track. The night was hot and still, and as I walked I felt sweat break out on my skin. Mosquitoes were buzzing around my head and face, but I ignored them and focused instead on the fact that the more I learned, the less I knew.

  Uncle Charlie, Ruth, and Bubba Simmons all seemed to be deeply involved with whatever was going on. Also, Mrs. Middleton and her heirs’ property were part of the mystery, but probably small pieces in a bigger puzzle. For the life of me, I could not imagine what purpose the wooden crate could have, but I knew that if it was worth hiding, it had to be important and it probably tied into everything else.

  The more I thought about the crate, the more I started to suspect that it wasn’t going to stay in Uncle Charlie’s truck for long. That plus the warning Mr. Barrett had given me to stay away from Felony Bay had convinced me that I needed to get back over there soon. I was more positive than ever that time was running out.

  When I got out onto the plantation drive, I was surprised to see someone walking toward me through the gathering dusk. It was Bee; only I noticed what I had missed in the car earlier, namely that the sling was no longer on her right arm, and her knee was no longer in a fiberglass brace.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I said as she came up to me.

  “I had a lot of time to think about Mrs. Middleton and all that heirs’ property stuff while we were waiting to see the doctors,” Bee said. “I realized that she’s the one person we haven’t talked to yet.”

  I looked at her, and then I shook my head, feeling really stupid. “You’re right,” I said. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  “I asked Grandma Em if we could eat a little later than usual. Maybe we could walk over there before dinner?”

  “Okay,” I said.

  For almost a full day now, I had been puzzling over what I was going to say to her to try to convince her that I should be pursuing the Felony Bay mystery on my own. I had even rehearsed the speech I wanted to give, but now, as we turned and started to walk toward Mrs. Middleton’s trailer, all I told her was the simple truth.

  I told her about the dream I’d had, how in it all the people were digging out at Felony Bay and how they were doing something bad to Mrs. Middleton and Skoogie, and my feeling that they were also just about to discover something terribly important. I explained that I’d had the same kind of dream only twice before, once before we found out about my mother’s cancer and the second time just before my father’s accident. I told her I was afraid it meant that something bad was going to happen. I was afraid it was going to happen to me, and I told her that I was afraid something bad might happen to her as well.

  She listened without interrupting, and when I finished, she said, “Are you saying you don’t want my help?”

  I shrugged. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen.”

  She stopped and turned to look at me. “You did more stuff today, didn’t you? And now you’ve hatched some kind of idea. What are you planning to do?”

  I let out a sigh. So much for my ability to keep Bee out of this, I thought. As I started walking again, I told her how I’d spent my day and all the dead ends I’d run into at the newspaper, the CCL, and not being able to get any more help from Custis or Mr. Barrett. But then I also told her about the crate I’d found in Uncle Charlie’s truck.

  “What do you think it is?” she asked, her voice growing excited. “Do you think they already found some treasure?”

  I shook my head. “The box didn’t have dirt all over its sides like it would if they had just dug it up. Also it was empty.”

  “That’s weird,” Bee said. I could see from her excitement that my attempt to warn her off had done just the opposite. “You think the crate has something to do with all the holes?”

  “I don’t know why it would, but none of this makes sense.”

  “We really need to understand why they’re digging those holes, don’t we?” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “So what are you planning? There’s something you’re not telling me. I know it.”

  “I’m going to sneak over to Felony Bay tonight after Uncle Charlie and Ruth are in bed.”

  “Really?”

  “But you don’t need to come if you don’t want to,” I added.

  “Are you kidding?” Bee clapped her hands. “This is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. No way I’m letting you have all the fun by yourself.”

  I could see the happiness in her eyes, and I knew that just as much as it was probably a bad idea to let her come tonight, her joy was also just what Grandma Em had hoped to see. Bee was back in her life. She was excited, and s
he was really looking forward to something. How could I possibly say no to that? Besides, if I was honest with myself, I really didn’t want to.

  We found Mrs. Middleton and Skoogie out behind their trailer on a couple of folding lawn chairs. They were sitting inside a small enclosure that looked like a tent covered with screening and reading books by the light of a battery-powered lantern. Like on a lot of South Carolina summer nights, the air was humid, as sticky as drying glue, and while the biting sand gnats that came out at dusk and dawn were starting to go to bed for the night, the mosquitoes were fierce and they weren’t going anywhere.

  I had to admit that since Daddy’s “accident” I had come to realize that I had used to take a lot of things for granted, like having good food, a wonderful private school to go to, spending money when I needed it, and nice new clothes. Even living with cheapskate Uncle Charlie and Ruth, we always had air-conditioning. And in the South, air-conditioning had become one of those things most people couldn’t live without.

  Only now I realized Mrs. Middleton and Skoogie didn’t have any. Or if they had it in the trailer, they only ran it when they absolutely couldn’t stand not to have it on, because the extra electricity was something they probably couldn’t afford. That was the only possible reason they would have been sitting out on a night that was over eighty degrees, trying to read in the fading light as the sun dropped behind the treetops.

  “Hi, Mrs. Middleton,” I called from the gathering shadows. “Hi, Skoogie.”

  Mrs. Middleton put down her book and squinted in our direction. “Who’s that? Is that you, Abbey?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, come on over here and visit.”

  “I hope you don’t mind us interrupting you,” I said.

  “No, no, no. Y’all come on inside this screen and get out from those mosquitoes. What y’all girls doing all the way down here?”

  Bee and I opened the door in the side of the shelter and ducked inside. “I just wanted to introduce my friend to you,” I said. “This is Bee Force. Her father bought Reward.”

  Mrs. Middleton held out a gnarled hand. “A pleasure to meet you, young lady.” She shot a glance at Skoogie. “Git on your feet, boy, and remember your manners!”

  Skoogie stood up, clearly embarrassed. “Hi,” he said, giving Bee a wave.

  We stood around and made small talk for a few minutes; then I gave Bee a look and got down to business.

  “Can I ask you a question, Mrs. Middleton?”

  “Certainly, child.”

  “Before my father’s accident, do you know if he had any plans to sign the land around the old cabin over at Felony Bay to you?”

  Mrs. Middleton’s expression changed. In the dim light I saw the sadness in her eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Please, I don’t mean to pry, but I’m trying to understand some things about what happened to Daddy. It’s important to me.”

  She took a deep breath. “Your daddy was a blessed man and a saint. Ain’t no way he did what they accused him of. No way, child.”

  I stood there waiting for more, but after a few seconds I realized she had answered my question. Daddy had been about to give her back the land.

  “Do you think . . . do you think it had anything to do with what happened to Mr. Force?” Bee asked.

  Mrs. Middleton was quiet for a moment, then looked at us hard. “I sure hope not, my dears. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get your land back, Mrs. Middleton,” I said.

  “I keep praying on it.”

  We excused ourselves, saying we had to get back for dinner. After we left, Bee and I were quiet for a time as we walked along the township road toward the Reward gates. We didn’t have to talk about what Mrs. Middleton had said. She had all but confirmed what we both suspected. Whatever was going on over at Felony Bay and whatever had happened to my father were connected. We just didn’t know how.

  “You still want to come tonight?” I asked at last.

  “Darn right,” Bee said. “I’m so mad about what happened to your dad and that poor woman and her grandson that I could spit nails.”

  “Then we better make up a plan.”

  As we walked up the plantation drive to the big house, we went over everything we would do later that night. A few minutes later, we sat down to a wonderful dinner of flank steak, corn on the cob, and mozzarella-and-fresh-garden-tomato salad.

  Afterward I thanked Grandma Em for inviting me, and when Bee walked me out onto the porch to say good night, I reminded her to bring a couple flashlights, since Uncle Charlie kept his in the bedroom where I couldn’t get to them. Both of us would go to sleep now and set our alarms for one thirty. We would meet at the barn at two, and that would give us plenty of time to do our reconnaissance.

  I walked home smelling the perfume of night-blooming flowers and gazing overhead at a sky that was completely clear of clouds. The moon had been full just a couple days ago, so later tonight I was pretty sure we’d have plenty of moonlight for walking the path to Felony Bay.

  When I reached the back door and looked through the glass panes, I nearly did a double take. Ruth was in the kitchen, and to my great surprise she was actually washing the dishes. That was always my job, and I couldn’t remember a time when Ruth had done them for me. To my even greater surprise, she was smiling and humming a tune as if she was in a great mood.

  I stood a moment and watched, and in the next instant, something even more amazing happened. Uncle Charlie walked into the kitchen, something he almost never did. Every night when dinner was over, instead of helping clear the table, he would get up and head into the den, where he would drink whiskey and watch television until it was time for bed. Also he never fed Rufus, cooked anything, made his own sandwich for lunch, or even fixed himself a bowl of cereal. And he always made Ruth or me get his drink, so there was never any reason for him to go into the kitchen. Only, as I watched, that was exactly where he showed up.

  He had two glasses of wine in his hands. He went over to the sink, put one on the counter beside Ruth, then slapped her on the butt. She turned with a warning look, but he gave her a goofy smile and raised his glass for a toast. She wiped her hands on a towel, picked up her glass, and clicked with his.

  It was obvious that they were celebrating again, and I was sure it had something to do with the crate in the back of Uncle Charlie’s pickup. My curiosity was on fire, and I couldn’t wait to sneak out and get over to Felony Bay.

  Then I had a terrible thought. What if Uncle Charlie and Ruth weren’t planning to go to bed at the regular time? What if they planned to stay up all night drinking toasts? It would be terrible luck to be stuck here and unable to sneak out and meet Bee. I just hoped, if that happened, she would have the good sense to go home and go back to sleep.

  My fears were put to rest in the next instant as Uncle Charlie glanced at his watch, downed the rest of his wine in two gulps, and said loud enough for me to hear through the glass, “I’m heading up to bed. We need to catch a little sleep while we can.”

  I felt a renewed surge of excitement on hearing this. As I opened the back door and walked inside, my heart was beating fast with the expectations of the adventure Bee and I were going to have. If I had paid a little more attention to what Uncle Charlie had said to Ruth, and to the fact they were in such good moods, I might not have felt nearly as good about things.

  Eighteen

  My alarm went off at one thirty sharp, and I rolled out of bed and hit the Off button as fast as I could before it woke up Ruth or Uncle Charlie or, more importantly, Rufus. I pulled on blue jeans, socks, a dark T-shirt, and hiking boots; then I stopped to think about what else I might need. After a second I grabbed a can of bug spray, gave my arms, legs, neck, and face a good coating, and opened my top drawer and took out the hunting knife Daddy had given me for my tenth birthday. With the tooled leather sheath strapped to my belt, I put my ear to the door of my bedroom to listen for t
he sound of Uncle Charlie’s snoring.

  To my surprise, I heard nothing, so I opened my door a crack to see if I could hear any better. Again nothing, which was unusual, because Uncle Charlie snores like a warthog. Finally I put my head into the hallway. I could tell by the darker square at the end of the hall that Uncle Charlie and Ruth’s bedroom door was open, which was also unusual. In the next instant, I caught the barest hint of light coming from the downstairs.

  I held my breath even as my pulse began to pound. I could hear soft footsteps moving through the downstairs. They were followed by the unmistakable sounds of the kitchen door opening and the squeak of the screen.

  I eased my bedroom door shut and tiptoed to my window, pulling it open, pushing out the screen, and climbing onto the porch roof just as I heard the engine of Uncle Charlie’s pickup come to life. Rufus got off his dog bed, came over to the window, and started to whine. I told him to be quiet and stay, then lowered the window and pushed the screen mostly back into place.

  Uncle Charlie’s pickup was coming around the side of the house, the tires snapping twigs as they rolled slowly across the ground. The truck’s headlights were off, but the moon was bright enough to illuminate the dirt track. I dropped to my belly and lay on the flat roof to keep the moonlight from outlining my silhouette in case Uncle Charlie glanced toward my bedroom window.

  I was being very quiet, because I didn’t know if Ruth had stayed behind. However, as the truck went past, I spotted the outline of a second passenger in the glow of the dashboard lights. It had to be Ruth, I thought, and I wondered where they could be sneaking off to at nearly two in the morning. A half second later, I had a pretty good idea.

  I got up, crossed to the tree limb that stuck out over the porch roof, and climbed on top of it. I slid along the branch to the trunk, climbed onto the opposite branch, shinnied out along it, and dropped to the ground. There was no longer any reason to worry about waking up Uncle Charlie or Ruth, so I ran down the dirt track to the plantation drive, then went through the fence and across the pasture.