by Bill Wallace
Then . . .
The door creaked. It opened.
Eyes wide, I held my breath.
“Who’s there?” A loud shrill voice knifed through the night. “Who’s out there?”
It was Mrs. Baum. I wanted to turn the light on and make sure, but if I turned the light on, she’d see me. Alone in the dark, I dropped to one knee and hunkered low to the ground. The door creaked again.
I couldn’t see a thing without my light. And there was no way I was going to switch it back on.
“I’ve got my shotgun,” the high, shrill voice threatened. “If I see anybody out there, I’ll fill your hind end with buckshot.”
Yep. There was no mistaking that voice. It was Mrs. Baum’s. I’d heard that shrill high screech, more than once, telling me to get my horse out from in front of her house.
The door slammed. Inside the little shed, I could hear clunking, thumping sounds. Someone was moving things as if looking for something.
I’d done some dumb stuff. I guess all of us do. The first thing that came to mind was trying to jump Bobcat Canyon on my bicycle. But there had been others, far too many to flutter through my mind’s eye at this particular second.
The vision that did come was terrifying.
In the dark . . . inside my head . . . I could almost see grouchy old Mrs. Baum . . . armed with a shotgun.
Like I said, I’d done some dumb stuff. That didn’t mean I was a total idiot.
I took off!
Forget going down to the lake where the ground was smooth. Forget shining the light before each step to make sure there wasn’t a snake.
Go home!
I couldn’t have run faster if the Lake Monster itself had been breathing down the back of my neck.
Things were going great . . . until . . .
I forgot about the fence at the edge of the Ferguson place. From then on, it was downhill all the way. A total disaster.
14
Grounded?”
“I already said that, Ted. Grounded.”
“Grounded?”
I held the phone away from my ear and glared at it like it was the most stupid thing in the world. Since Ted had called less than a minute ago to see if I could ride over to Bobcat Canyon and have a war with the guys, it was the third time that “Grounded?” had shrieked through the phone and into my ear. It was the fourth time I’d had to repeat the word.
“Ted. You got something stuck in your ear? Grounded. That’s spelled G-R-O-U-N-D-E-D. Got it? I can’t leave the house. I can’t have company over. I’m not even supposed to talk on the phone. Mom said I could tell you and you could tell the other guys so they wouldn’t be calling or coming over.” I sucked in a deep breath because I was about out of air after getting all that in.
“What did you do?”
“Well . . .” I paused long enough to glance over my shoulder. Mom stood in the doorway with her arms folded. “Well . . . I never sneaked out of the house before. I just wanted to see if I could do it. You know.”
“And you got caught?”
“Yes.”
“So how long are you grounded?”
“Well, Mom and Dad don’t think that was the ‘real’ reason I sneaked out of the house. So . . . well, if I don’t tell them . . . well, like forever . . . sort of.”
“Why did you sneak out?”
I glanced back again. Mom had her arms folded. Her eyebrows were arched so high they almost looked like part of her hairline.
“Mom wants me to get off the phone, Ted.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Ah . . . right.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “She’s in the room, listening—right?”
“That’s it. Be sure and tell the other guys not to call or come by.”
“Okay, Kent. See you later. I got to know what’s going on.”
Mom stood there, staring at me for a long time after I hung up the phone. Finally she sighed, gave a little shrug, and went back to her office.
Around ten thirty the telephone rang. From the other room I could hear her talking. There was a long silence, then she came to my room.
“I have to meet Mr. and Mrs. Blevins and show them some houses,” she said. “You can watch TV while I’m gone, but do not leave the house or answer the phone.”
I nodded, letting her know I understood. But inside my head, I was thinking that if one of the guys called . . . how would she know?
It’s really spooky when mothers can read your mind.
“By the way,” she said, stopping in the doorway and not even looking back at me, “I’m expecting a couple of phone calls. When I get home, they should be on the answering machine. If they’re not, I’ll know someone’s been on the telephone. Since your father is at work—guess who that leaves?”
Like I said—spooky.
When she drove off, I found a book to read. I hadn’t even gotten through Chapter One when I heard the pounding at the front door. Figuring she had forgotten something, I hopped up to go let her in.
“All right. What were you doing and how did you get caught?” Ted and Jordan brushed past me and into the living room.
“I’m grounded!” I yelped, glancing outside to see if Mom’s car had gone. The driveway and road were empty. I slammed the door behind them. “You two can’t come in. She will—”
“Your mom just drove off,” Ted said. “Soon as I heard you were grounded, I came over.”
“He’s been helping me with the trench for the telegraph line.” Jordan beamed.
“But . . . but . . .”
“Don’t stand there stammering,” Ted grumped. He stuck his thumb at the side of the curtain and opened it just enough so he could peek out. “How did you get grounded? What did you do? And talk quick, before your mom comes back.”
“Remember the other night when Zane told everybody about seeing the monster?” I began. “You all made fun of him and threw him in the lake, remember?”
“Yeah,” they both answered.
“Well.” I hesitated. Silence swept through the room so thick I could almost feel it. “Well,” I went on, “I saw it, too!”
I don’t know how long it took, but I told them the whole story. Every single detail, from seeing the eyes, to rigging the alarm, to hearing the sounds from the work shed in front of Mrs. Baum’s house and having her scream at me.
To my surprise, Jordan was evidently still listening.
“So how did you get caught?” he asked.
I held my arms out, then lifted my shirt to show them all the scratches. “I forgot about the Fergusons’ barbed-wire fence. I was running so fast, I almost ripped myself to pieces trying to get loose. Then I jumped through the window and pulled it down behind me—only . . . well . . .”
“You forgot about the gum wrapper,” Ted finished what I was trying to say.
All I could do was feel kind of sick and stupid inside when I nodded my head.
“Little wonder they doubt the integrity of your story.” Jordan heaved a sigh. “All the evidence—the torn clothing, the scratches—everything points to something far more involved and insidious than simply tampering with the alarm.”
Ted and I looked at him. Then we looked at each other. Ted finally blinked a couple of times, really hard, then rolled his eyes.
“I got no idea what Jordan just said, but I think he’s right. You come in all ripped up and muddy—there’s no way they’re going to buy a story about you stepping outside, just to see if you could. So . . . the thing we need to do now is figure how to get you out of it.”
“It won’t work.”
“What do you mean, it wont work? I haven’t even come up with an idea yet.”
“Whatever it is, it won’t work. Mom knows if I lie to her.”
“You can’t lie to her, but I can.” Ted grinned. “Jordan and I will come up with something. When we get back, just play along—no matter what—okay?”
“Okay.”
• • •<
br />
Mom and Dad got home about six. Mom started supper. Dad had me go with him to the garage. He double-checked my scuba tank and regulator—just to make sure I had it cleaned and ready like he had told me to. Then he let the air out of both tanks, started the compressor, and refilled them.
“Be a shame if you can’t go to the scuba classes with me next Friday . . . because you’re grounded.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Yep, real shame. I think Charles Korbin is bringing his daughter. She’s that cute little blonde. About your age? You remember her, don’t you?”
I still didn’t say anything.
There was something about the way Dad was carrying on that told me all he was trying to do was get me talking. Trying to get me loosened up—so I’d slip and tell him why I was outside last night.
“Oh, I’m sure you remember Krissi. Last summer? At the fire-department picnic? You spent about two hours playing tag and chasing her all over the park. Charles told me she’s really grown over the past year. You know . . . matured? Filled out? Fact is, she bought a new bathing suit for the scuba class. Old Charlie is a bit concerned about letting her wear it. It’s a little pink two-piece bathing suit. He thinks it’s too skimpy for her to be wearing in public. What do you think, Kent?”
Dad almost suckered me in with that one. I was just about to blurt out something like:
“I definitely think she should wear it.”
If it hadn’t been for Ted, I probably would have. Right about then, he stuck his head in the door.
“Mr. Morgan?” he called. “May I speak with you a moment, sir?” Then, like he didn’t even expect me to be around, he gave a quick nod in my direction. “Oh, hi, Kent.”
Ted stood there, holding something behind him. He moved into the garage, smiling from ear to ear.
“I found it, Kent. It’s okay. You can tell them now.”
My mouth flopped open, but not a single sound came out. Ted told me to play along with his story.
Playing along didn’t mean making it up! At this rate I’d be grounded for the rest of my life.
15
Ted produced a rod and reel from behind his back. He told Dad that his father gave it to him for Christmas. “I made Kent promise not to tell anybody that I lost it,” Ted said. “I was afraid my dad would kill me if he found out. Your son gave me his word. I guess he kept it, because he’s still grounded.”
Dad frowned and tilted his head to one side.
“Kent promised he’d help me find it and not tell anybody.”
The way Dad’s forehead wrinkled, I could tell he was thinking on it—only he didn’t quite buy it.
“That’s why you didn’t tell me?”
When Dad looked at me, all I could do was duck my head.
“I probably would have told,” Ted stepped between us. “Your son sure is a man of his word, Mr. Morgan. But now that I’ve found my rod and reel . . . well, it wasn’t his fault. Please don’t be mad at him for something / did.”
It seemed like an eternity that Dad stood there staring at us. Finally he sighed. “I’ll talk to your mom.”
Ted and I held our breath. The second the screen bounced shut, I wheeled on him.
“How did you come up with that one? And how can you lie with such a straight face?”
“It wasn’t a total lie.” Ted smiled. “I told him it was a Christmas present from Dad. It was. I told him I lost it. I did.”
“Huh?”
“Jordan took it, hid it, then we went and found it. So . . . it wasn’t a total lie.”
All I could do was shake my head.
“Once we’re sure you’re not grounded anymore, Jordan and I will call the guys and get everything set for another fishing trip tomorrow night. We’ll stretch the bank poles out so the last one is down where you saw the eyes disappear and . . .”
The screen door opened. Both of us stood there, looking as innocent as could be.
• • •
Being grounded, especially in the summer, was horrible.
Being ungrounded . . . that was great.
• • •
Even though I was getting ready to spend the whole night fishing and watching for the Monster of Cedar Lake, I still got up at six the next morning. Before Mom left to go show some houses, she called Dad at the fire station and reminded him of Samantha Hamilton’s wedding shower the following night. About ten she headed off. Before she left, I reminded her of the fishing trip, and that it was my turn to bring the pop. She promised she’d get some at the store.
I fed Duke and made sure he had fresh water. Then I cleaned out my tackle box and had all my fishing stuff ready and sitting on the front porch before noon. I even wrapped my bathing trunks in a towel to take along. No more of that skinny-dipping stuff for me.
When Mom got home from work she brought us each a hamburger and some fries. She’d also stopped at the store and picked up five six-packs of pop. We ate, then got two coolers from the garage, iced down the pop, and set the chests on the front porch with my fishing gear.
Mom said she had to go back and show her clients two more houses. She seemed sort of happy and excited, because she was pretty sure they were going to buy one.
With Duke fed and all my stuff ready, there wasn’t much else to do but sit around and wait. I hated waiting. I flipped on the TV, but didn’t even bother to watch it. The noise made it feel like the house wasn’t so empty. I curled up on the couch and went right to sleep.
I felt like I’d just closed my eyes when the phone rang. But when I glanced at the clock over the TV, I figured I’d been out for two hours. The phone rang again.
“Hello?”
“Kent. Ted. Guess the fishing trip’s off.”
“What?” I yelped. I yanked the phone away and glared at it, as if I couldn’t believe what it just said. When I stuck it back to my ear, Ted was already talking.
“. . . and man, don’t scream on the phone like that. You almost blew my eardrum out.”
“Why’s the fishing trip off?”
“Haven’t you been listening to the TV?” Ted asked.
“No.”
“There’s, like, storms coming through. Big ones. We’ll have to go tomorrow night. Mom’s talking about going to the cellar. Gotta go. Bye.”
Sure enough, Ted was right. Every channel had tornado warnings on the screen. Meteorologists interrupted soap operas to show Doppler radar and warnings flashed over the top of the picture. The line of storms was still a few counties away, but they were headed in this direction.
I sure wished Mom or Dad would come home.
It was only about ten minutes later when the phone rang again. I snatched it up and stuck it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Kent, your dad just called on my cell phone. He wants us to come to the fire station until these storms blow over. Close the windows. Lock the doors. I’ll meet you in front of the house. Scoot!”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I scooted. The windows were already closed. I ran outside and opened the gate to Duke’s pen. That way, if the storm did get too close, he wouldn’t be trapped in that little tiny stall. I locked the back door, raced through the house, turned off the TV, and locked the front door just as Mom drove up. She flung the car door open and I hopped in.
Only we didn’t head to town. We turned right.
“Where are we going?”
“We have to pick up Emma. With these storms coming, I don’t want her in that old house all alone.”
My luck was really on a downhill slide. First off, no fishing trip. Then—Mrs. Baum. With my luck, she had recognized me the other night and would tell Mom.
Mrs. Baum was waiting in her driveway. She had a paper sack in her hand. I hopped in the back—hoping and praying that she hadn’t recognized me.
If she did, she never said a word.
• • •
The community storm shelter was in the basement of the fire department. Dad waited for us outside the
back door, where the parking lot was. He gave Mrs. Baum a big hug, kissed Mom on the cheek, and ruffled my hair.
“This thing will probably blow over, like most of ’em do. It is a big storm system, though. Lots of straight wind and some hail. I just feel safer with you here. Come on.”
Quite a few people were already downstairs. There were about eight old couples. A number of the firefighters’ families were there and some other people with kids. Only about twenty chairs lined the walls. Mom found an empty one for Mrs. Baum, then sat on the floor next to her, talking about grown-up stuff, like bills and the cost of living and all that junk.
Impatient and bored, I shifted nervously from one foot to the other. I was just getting ready to ask if I could go upstairs to see what Dad was doing, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
“Kent? Kent Morgan? Is that you? I haven’t seen you since the picnic last year.”
It was Krissi Korbin.
I blinked. Then blinked again. What her dad had told my dad . . . well, it wasn’t quite true. She hadn’t changed a little. She’d changed a lot.
She was cute.
Mom introduced her to Mrs. Baum, and Krissi sat on the floor next to them. For some strange reason, Krissi and Mrs. Baum seemed to hit it off from the very first. The three of them talked and visited and laughed. After a while, I got to feeling really left out.
I guess Mrs. Baum finally noticed. She glanced up and smiled at me.
“Oh, Kent. I almost forgot. Remember I told you the other night that I’d fix some chocolate chip cookies?” She reached to the floor beside her and picked up the paper sack. “Here you go. I think there’s enough to share with your mom and this beautiful young lady, too.”
I thought Pepper Hamilton’s mother made the best chocolate chip cookies in the country.
Wrong.
When it came to cookies, Emma Baum had the Hamiltons beat all to pieces.
We all visited and munched on the wonderful cookies. Mom excused herself when she spotted the people who had just bought the house from her. Then Krissi and Mrs. Baum got to visiting. Then they started whispering to each other. Every now and then they would glance at me, giggle, and whisper some more.
