Princess for a Week

by Betty R. Wright

Princess didn’t move. “This is where the car will stop, so we have to stay right here. Besides, if you get too comfortable, you might fall asleep.”

  “Fall asleep?” Jacob gasped. “Fall asleep! Don’t make jokes.”

  Roddy poked his head out from under a branch that was blocking his view. The haunted house loomed forbiddingly on the other side of the gravel drive. Someone could be staring out at him right now, he thought, and he wouldn’t know it. Someone mean, who had been staring out those dark windows for forty years, watching, waiting.…

  “Hey!” He scuttled back under the bush, bumping into Jacob this time. “I saw something—a light!” he gasped. “Just for a sec!”

  “I told you,” Jacob moaned. “Uncle Ring said—”

  “You did not see a light,” Princess said, forgetting to whisper. “You couldn’t. There’s no one in there. Not yet.”

  “It wasn’t a big light,” Roddy said, “but I saw it. That window nearest the front of the house. Sort of a glimmer.”

  “A glimmer,” Jacob repeated. “A glimmer? You know what glimmers? A ghost glimmers, that’s what! I’m out of here!” He scrambled out from under the bushes and raced down the drive to the street.

  “Now you did it,” Princess said crossly. “You and your glimmer! If anyone sees Jacob, we’re never going to get a chance to solve the mystery.”

  Roddy’s heart pounded. He didn’t blame Jacob for running—he wanted to run, too. But had he really seen a glimmer? He thought so. He was almost certain.

  “Well, how long are we going to wait, anyway?” he asked miserably. “There must be about a million mosquitoes under here.”

  “When we saw the car the other night, it was about ten-thirty,” Princess said, like she’d been just waiting for him to ask. “I know because I looked at my watch before I came outside. The thief probably works on some kind of schedule. He breaks into a place and then he comes here to hide his loot. That’s his MO. I figure if he’s coming, he’ll be here before midnight.”

  Roddy was impressed. She had it all worked out. “What’s an ‘emmo’?”

  “That’s the way a robber works, dopey. His method of operating. Every criminal has an MO. Don’t you watch television?”

  Roddy peeked out again at the front window. That would be the living room, he thought. Why would a ghost go glimmering around a living room? Ghosts hang out in attics and basements, don’t they? He leaned back and slapped a mosquito, or something bigger, off his cheek.

  A long time later, after he’d been dinner for a hundred more mosquitoes, Princess finally sighed and said, “Well, okay. He’s not coming tonight.” She gave Roddy a little push and started crawling back toward the street.

  “If he’s not coming, why do we have to—” Roddy began and then gave up. At least they were going home. She’d have her reasons why they had to crawl—some stupid emmo reason that would make him feel dumber than ever.

  Later, back in the basement, with nothing to do but think and scratch, he heard footsteps overhead. His mother was out in the kitchen opening and closing the refrigerator, her slippers flip-flopping across the linoleum. Then she was in the living room, right over his head. The front door opened and closed very softly.

  Roddy hated to think of her out on the porch in the dark, worrying about his dad. That’s what she was doing, he knew. Every day without a letter made it worse. Tomorrow I’ll tell her he’s okay, he thought. I’ll tell her Uncle Ring saw him. At the same time he knew he wouldn’t say anything at all. He wasn’t sure of the truth himself.

  To his surprise, when he went upstairs the next morning, his mom looked pretty cheerful.

  “I sat outside for the longest time last night,” she said softly. “It was nice. There’s something kind of magical about a summer night, did you know that? Your dad seemed so close, Roddy.” She smiled at him, and then at Princess. “I actually felt as if he might come walking down the hill any minute, looking just the way he did the last time we saw him.”

  Roddy stared at her. The tall man in an army uniform. He didn’t know what to say.

  Neither did Princess, for once. Roddy knew what she was thinking. “What—what time were you out there?” she finally asked in a choked voice. “Did you see—were there any kids around?”

  “Of course not, hon—it was very late.” His mom looked puzzled. “What would kids be doing outside at that hour?”

  “Right,” Princess said. She went back to buttering her toast, making sure that the raspberry jam was spread evenly over every bit of it. Roddy reached for his glass of orange juice.

  “I did see one odd thing, though,” his mom went on thoughtfully. “A car turned into that old house across the street—the one with the willow tree in front. I didn’t think anyone lived there. He must have been having a problem of some kind—the headlights weren’t on.”

  Roddy’s glass of orange juice slipped through his fingers. He reached out to grab it just as Princess’s toast landed on the table, jam side down.

  7. Day Four

  “We’re having a picnic—hot dogs and chips and stuff,” Jacob said. “Just Uncle Ring and me. Do you want to come? My folks are working all day at our church fair.” He looked uncertainly from Roddy to Princess. Roddy could tell he was sorry he’d run off and left them the night before.

  When they didn’t answer, Roddy’s mom spoke up.

  “Well, I think that’s very nice of you, Jacob,” she said. “Are you sure your mother expects you to invite friends?”

  Jacob nodded. “She said as long as I was going to baby sit Uncle Ring all day I might as well have company.”

  “Baby sit?” Princess looked interested for the first time. “What’s wrong with your uncle?”

  “He’s my great-uncle,” Jacob said. “And there’s nothing wrong with him. I’m just supposed to see that he—that he doesn’t get lonesome. Or excited. He gets sick when he’s too excited.” He turned to Roddy. “We have a whole box of chocolate-nut ice-cream bars.”

  Roddy could feel his mom’s look as she waited for him to speak. “Well, okay,” he said, pretending the chocolate-nut ice-cream bars had made up his mind. Actually, he didn’t want to stay mad at Jacob. In another couple of days Princess would be gone, like a bad cold, and then they could start having fun again.

  As the three of them started up the alley, Roddy told Jacob that the car without headlights had come back.

  “And that proves what I told you,” Princess said. “Whoever it is, he’s doing something bad he doesn’t want people around here to know about. Only we’re too smart for him.”

  Jacob looked down at his feet, kicking up little clouds of dust in the gravel. “It’s not so smart hanging around a haunted house,” he said. “We could get into big trouble—”

  He stopped, interrupted by an angry bellow.

  “COME DOWN HERE, YOU THIEVIN’ BUNDLE OF HORSE FEATHERS!”

  Jacob started to run, and Roddy and Princess followed him. When they raced into Jacob’s backyard, they found Uncle Ring glaring up into the oak tree next to the garage and shaking his fist.

  “What’s wrong?” Jacob gasped. “What’s happened?”

  “It’s that wicked bird!” Uncle Ring roared. “That thievin’ Herman! He stole my house key right off the kitchen table and lit out through the window. Lucky I saw where he went!” He pointed into the highest branches of the tree. “You can bet he’s there now, laughin’ at us!”

  They all squinted upward. “I don’t see anything,” Roddy said.

  “Never mind, Uncle Ring,” Jacob said soothingly. “Dad probably has an extra key.”

  “I don’t want his extra key,” Uncle Ring said crossly. “I want my key—the one the wicked bird stole. Get the ladder, Jacob.”

  “Oh, no!” Now Jacob sounded panicky. “You can’t climb the ladder. You’ll fall, and Mom will kill me.”

  Roddy felt, rather than saw, a sudden movement behind him. It was Princess, jumping for the lowest limb of the tree. She missed the first time but c
aught it the second. From there, she shinnied up the tree quickly.

  Uncle Ring’s mouth fell open. “Well, now,” he began, “you mustn’t—”

  “What kind of bird is it?” Princess called down. “What color?”

  “Yellow and green parakeet,” Uncle Ring said, sounding dazed. “Answers to the name of Herman.”

  Princess scrambled higher in a flurry of thrashing branches. Herman would have to be a pretty stupid bird to stick around through all that commotion, Roddy thought. He moved closer to Jacob, who was watching nervously.

  “Why don’t you keep Herman in a cage?” Roddy whispered. “You could save everybody a lot of trouble.”

  Jacob gave him a look. “Can’t,” he said, his lips barely moving. “He’s dead.”

  Roddy wondered if he’d heard right. “He’s dead?”

  “We had a funeral for him two years ago,” Jacob muttered. “He was very old and he died, and my mom and I had a funeral for him. He’s buried right there.” He pointed at a cluster of pink hollyhocks. “Uncle Ring was at the funeral. He sang ‘Amazing Grace.’”

  “But if he’s dead, and Uncle Ring knows it, why is Princess up there looking for him?” Roddy whispered. “I don’t get it.”

  Jacob rolled his eyes. “Herman keeps coming back,” he whispered. “You know—like Mrs. Mortimer. And he steals keys and stuff. Don’t tell Princess,” he said hurriedly. “You heard her—she already thinks Uncle Ring is crazy.”

  “I’m coming down,” Princess announced. “There’s no key up here. No parakeet either.” She dropped lightly to the ground and brushed herself off.

  “I’m really sorry I couldn’t find your bird,” she told Uncle Ring, so sweetly that the boys stared at her. “But I’m sure he’s flying around the neighborhood having a good time. Or else,” she added cheerfully, “maybe he has a girlfriend and he’s taken the key to her. Birds like shiny things.”

  “Well, that could be,” Uncle Ring agreed. His anger seemed to have melted away. “Where did you learn to climb a tree like that, missy?”

  “At camp,” Princess told him. “I go for a month every summer. It’s the best camp in the whole United States. I can climb anything. My dad’s going to take me mountain climbing someday. Maybe next week when he comes home.”

  “Is that so!” Uncle Ring patted her head. “Well, you’re one terrific young lady, I can see that. And I’ll bet you’ve roasted lots of wieners at that camp of yours. You can show us how the experts do it.”

  “Oh, sure,” Princess said. “I don’t mind. I’ll fix one especially for you if you want me to.”

  She went over to the grill that was set up next to the picnic table, and Uncle Ring followed.

  “Why is she being so nice all of a sudden?” Jacob’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What did you tell her about my uncle?”

  “Didn’t tell her anything,” Roddy said. He started to add, “Cross my heart and hope to die,” but thought better of it. “Who knows why she does anything?” he said instead. “Who cares?”

  Who cares! That was what he kept saying to himself the rest of the afternoon. When his hot dog fell into the fire and burned, Princess said it was his own fault for using such a thin stick. When Jacob’s wiener burst open, she asked him why he had held it so close to the fire. Then, while the boys started over with fresh wieners, she fixed absolutely perfect hot dogs for herself and for Uncle Ring. Between bites she listed the badges she’d earned at camp for outdoor cooking, swimming, horseback riding, and bed making.

  Bed making! Roddy rolled his eyes at Jacob. A badge for bed making. Big deal!

  “A couple of days ago I saw you walkin’ down the street a ways, and I told these two fellas here they better look after you,” Uncle Ring said as Princess handed him another perfect hot dog. “But you don’t need any lookin’ after, do you?”

  “No, I don’t,” Princess said seriously. “I always know what I’m doing.”

  Ughhhh! Roddy’s hot dog churned in his stomach. He followed Jacob into the house to get the ice-cream bars from the freezer.

  “What if she wants to sneak around that house again tonight?” Roddy asked. “Are you coming along?”

  Jacob took three ice-cream bars out of the freezer and lined them up on a plate. Then he took out one more, tore off the wrapper, and licked the smooth chocolate coating.

  “I’m probably going to be busy,” he said unhappily.

  “Doing what?” Roddy started getting mad all over again. He didn’t think he could stand another night alone with Princess under the lilacs.

  Jacob picked up the plate and headed back outside without answering.

  “At camp a counselor always tells a ghost story after we eat,” Princess was saying. “Some of the little kids get so scared they won’t walk back to their cabins alone, poor things. Can you believe that?”

  Uncle Ring helped himself to an ice-cream bar. “Well, now you’re talkin’ my language,” he said comfortably. “You have to remember there’s good ghosts and bad ones, missy. I’ve seen ’em all. You take that house across the street—the one you were lookin’ at so hard yesterday afternoon—”

  “She doesn’t believe in ghosts, Uncle Ring,” Jacob interrupted. “She doesn’t want to hear about that house.”

  “Yes, I do,” Princess said. “What about it?”

  “It’s haunted, that’s what,” Uncle Ring said. “A man got himself killed there forty years ago—a gangster most likely. Kept to himself, never spoke to the neighbors, not once! They say he had a fortune, and one night another gangster came lookin’ for it. There was a big fight—we all heard ’em yellin’—and the next morning the man who lived there was dead. Stabbed through the heart right in his own living room! His ghost is still there guardin’ that fortune.”

  Roddy swallowed hard. The light he’d seen flickering had been in the living-room window. He waited for Princess to say the whole thing was silly.

  “Maybe the other man took it away with him,” she said finally. “Anyway, that’s a pretty good ghost story,” she added, and smiled at Uncle Ring. “Thanks for telling it.”

  At least she wasn’t making fun of him, Roddy thought. But you could tell she hadn’t believed a word of it. Why was she being so polite? He found out why later, after they’d said good night to Uncle Ring and Jacob and were walking down the hill.

  “That nice old man and his silly ghosts,” Princess said. “You and Jacob actually believe him, don’t you? I didn’t want him to feel bad, so I just kept still. About everything.”

  Roddy looked at her. “What everything?”

  “His so-called haunted house. And his bird. It’s going to break his heart if he finds out what happened to Herman.”

  “Now wait a minute,” Roddy said. “Herman isn’t a real—”

  But Princess wouldn’t wait. “A hawk got Herman when he flew up in that tree,” she said. “Or maybe it was an owl. Anyway, he’s dead for sure. I just didn’t want to say so.”

  “How do you know that?” Roddy could hardly get the words out.

  Princess reached into the pocket of her shorts and held out her hand. “I know because this is all there is left of him,” she said.

  Three feathers were scrunched in her palm—two yellow, one green.

  8. Night Four

  There’s something kind of magical about a summer night.

  Roddy remembered his mom’s words as he and Princess ambled back down the hill. He knew what she meant. After a few hours with Uncle Ring, a person could believe almost anything. A normal person, that is, one who didn’t think most other people were silly.

  “Those feathers are from some other bird,” he said finally. “Herman died two years ago. Jacob told me. Uncle Ring sees Herman’s ghost sometimes.”

  Princess groaned. “You and Jacob are such babies,” she said scornfully. “You’re lucky I let you come along when I’m detecting.”

  Oh, sure, lucky, Roddy thought. He wished he’d had a chance to ask Uncle Ring whether he’d
seen the tall man in uniform again, but he couldn’t ask in front of Princess. He didn’t want to hear her say that was silly. It was too important.

  “Look, your mom’s out on the porch again,” Princess said a moment later. “I hope she isn’t going to sit there for hours and hours.”

  “She can if she wants,” Roddy said coldly. “If it makes her feel good.”

  “But she doesn’t look as if she feels good,” Princess said. “I think she should go to bed and sleep.”

  They were close to home now, and Roddy saw that what Princess said was true. His mom was watching them with a very strange expression.

  “We had fun,” Princess told her as soon as they reached the porch. “I climbed a tree to look for Jacob’s uncle’s parakeet, but it wasn’t there.” She paused. “It was a really tall tree I climbed. Jacob’s uncle Ring could hardly believe how brave I was.”

  Roddy’s mom didn’t seem to hear. “I had an unexpected visitor this evening,” she said. “He just left.”

  Roddy’s heart dropped to his toes. At least, that was how it felt. He knew the army sent someone to tell a soldier’s family if he had been killed.

  “Wh-who?” He could hardly get the word out.

  “It was a policeman,” his mom said very quickly, as if she had guessed his thought and was sorry. “He wanted to know if my little girl had found her cat. He said she and her friend were out looking for the cat in the rain night before last. They told him they lived here.”

  “Maybe he had the wrong street,” Princess suggested. She shoved her fists in the pockets of her shorts and frowned. “Is there anyone around here who has a cat?”

  “Not that I know of,” Roddy’s mom replied. “This policeman said the little girl had a long yellow braid. Any other ideas?” Something in her voice told Roddy she didn’t need an answer. And she wasn’t just angry. She sounded really tired and even a little bit scared.

  “I told him I’d watch out for those kids,” she said. “You know, their mothers and fathers probably thought they could trust them to stay in bed and not go wandering around in a storm. They’d be worried sick if they knew the truth.”