Young Adventurers

by Austin S. Camacho

  Grams pulled another blanket around her shoulders. “That poor baby drowned in that icy creek in the middle of winter.”

  “Did your grandpa know Mr. Parker?”

  “In fact, he did. Always told me he was a nice enough man. Grandpa traded him eggs for fish he’d catch out of the creek. Grandpa said he was a little odd. His mind just snapped when he couldn’t marry that city girl.”

  The story was always the same, sad, scary, and heartless. “Why did people hate him so much, Grams?”

  “He was different. Back in those days people didn’t like others who were different. The people at Four Corners made it hard on him and he reacted the only way he knew. I guess he figured they’d just leave him alone, and they did, all except for that awful night down by the creek.” Grams sipped her chocolate. We’d never talked much beyond the telling of the tale, but I guess she figured that now I was thirteen, almost a grownup, I’d understand more about people’s injustices to others.

  While I’d jotted down the information, I reached for my drink, but it had turned cold. The top of the liquid had a thin coating like Willowby’s Creek, I thought, when it is freezing over. “How about the house? Did anyone ever check where the light came from?”

  “I doubt anyone has gone into that house since it happened. I don’t even know who it belongs to. It was his folks, then his. It’s good river bottom land. His parents made a lot of money farming. That’s how they could afford to send him East to school.” A rumble of thunder and a flash of lightning made us both jump, and the mood changed. “Better get ready for bed, Debbie. You have school tomorrow.”

  Kevin and Tommy pressed their faces against the glass of the old yellow school bus as it lumbered down the drive towards my pick-up shelter. I walked a mile from the farm to the enclosure and shivered in the damp, cool morning. All around slush encrusted the ground. The puddles lay concealed underneath thin, brown ice. I stuck a stick in one of them. The crust cracked and exposed the water beneath. I thought about old man Parker.

  “Mornin’, D.J., been waitin’ long?” The bus driver smiled. I smiled back and looked for a seat. Kevin and Tommy waved me to the back of the bus. There was a place next to Katie.

  I slid in next to her and she made one of her long hissy sighs. “Good morning, Deborah Jean. If you’re going to sit next to me, don’t wrinkle my new skirt. Mother just bought it for me in Kansas City.”

  I would remember that when we were on the playground. Maybe the boys and I could give her a few wrinkles. “Hey, guys. Some storm last night, wasn’t it?”

  “Well, did ya ask her? Did she tell you the story?” Kevin drew close across the aisle.

  “Shhh. Do you want the whole school to know what we’re up to? I’ll tell you at recess. I have it all down here in my journal. We’ll meet in the library at 10:00.

  When the bell rang, Tommy turned around, winked, and headed for the hall. I caught up with him and Kevin. “I got all the information. We need to plan our camping trip.”

  “We probably won’t be able to go until April, maybe even May as cold as it is this year. That’s a long time.” Kevin always saw the gloomy side of things.

  “No, that’s perfect. You guys have Boy Scout stuff don’t you?”

  “Yeah. My dad has some lanterns we can use, too. This will be so much fun.” Tommy, who was more of an adventurer, would be my ally.

  I studied their faces. Tommy still looked like he did when he was six, but Kevin was changing. His voice cracked sometimes when he spoke. I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not. They’d put up with me until now, but once we finished our eighth grade year and went to the Willowby Creek High School, I wasn’t sure they would. “Have either one of your folks ever let you camp in the woods before?”

  “I did once, with my cousin Jake. I’m not sure I can go out there on my own, but I can figure something out.” Tommy forever the optimist.

  “You, Kevin?”

  “I don’t know. They might.” He thought for a moment. “If I tell my mom Dad said it was okay and vice versa, we’ll be gone before they figured out I’d buffaloed them.”

  “You use that all the time. They aren’t stupid. I’m the one that has the problem. Where am I going to tell Grams I’ll be over night?”

  “Katie has a birthday in May. She’s having a sleepover.”

  “Perfect. We’ll go in May.”

  Kevin was right. Spring took forever to arrive, but everything fell into place. Our camping gear lay stowed in the barn at Grams’ and I’d received an invitation to the sleepover, but it was because there were so few girls in our class. Since school closed for end of the year state exams, we had an extra day. I hoped I’d passed to seventh grade. I was a good student. It might depend on what happened that weekend. It might not matter.

  Alone in the barn, nervous and scared, afraid we either might get caught by the grownups or old man Parker’s ghost, my stomach clenched. A noise jolted me from my thoughts. I crouched down and raised my head enough to peek through the window. Kevin stood in the yard. I opened the latch and motioned him in. “You look upset.”

  “Just a little scared, I guess.” His voice went up an octave. “Tommy here yet?”

  “No. Soon. You two will take our stuff and go down by the pond. I’ll go tell Grams I’m leaving for your house. Then I’ll double back and meet you. I can’t believe our trip is finally going to happen.” I looked at Kevin, who had turned an odd shade of green.

  “Ya guys in here?” Tommy pounded on the wooden exterior.

  I yanked him through the opening by his sleeve. “Grams isn’t deaf. Get in and be quiet.”

  “You know the plan, Tommy. You and Kevin go on. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” I went in and told Grams I was leaving for Katie’s party. She reminded me to be polite and not to forget to thank Mrs. Finnegan. She expected me home by 10:00 in the morning. A pang of guilt stabbed my chest. I’d lied to her.

  While I walked to the water to meet the boys, I couldn’t believe how lucky we were to have such a great day. It was warm, but not hot. The fields were full of wild flowers. My favorite, Goldenrod, bloomed into a bumper crop that year. My belly tied in a knot. “I’m here. Let’s go.”

  Tommy hoisted his backpack onto his shoulder. Kevin looked like he would throw up any minute. I fell in line behind Tommy while Kevin brought up the rear. As we trudged down the dirt path, we sang a few rounds of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” when I noticed Kevin’s voice had grown fainter. I turned around, and he had disappeared. “Wait, Kevin’s gone,” I yelled at Tommy as he advanced forward and almost out of sight in the opposite direction.

  “Kevin, Kevin,” I screamed. “Where are you?” I took a deep breath and strained my ears waiting for an answer. Nothing. The wind whistled through the pines and prickles raised on my neck. Where could he have gone?

  I ran down the path. Had the ghost taken Kevin? Come on D.J. There’s logical explanation. I couldn’t run anymore. I knew the distance between Tommy and I had grown, but I wouldn’t leave Kevin out here alone. Not in the middle of nowhere as scared as he was. I’m going to have to admit how scared I am if I don’t find him. I took in a deep breath. “Kevin?” I yelled.

  “D.J.” I jumped at the sound of my own name. “D.J., here,” Kevin called. What little color he had in his cheeks had vanished. “I’m scared D.J. I lied to my parents. I’m afraid of that ghost and…”

  Running toward the big granite rock where he cowered my foot snagged on an exposed root. Tumbling, sprawling toward the boulder, hands scraping against the dirt and jagged rocks on the path, I slid head first. “Ouch!” I yelled.

  Kevin laughed. “That was pretty funny, D.J.”

  “Well, I’m glad I amused you. At least you aren’t terrified anymore.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  When I checked my hands, my right palm had a nasty gash, blood gathered at the ragged opening. How was I going to explain to Grams I got hurt at a sleep over? Walking over to the pond, I rinsed it off.
/>   “D.J., you’re hurt.” Tommy had found us and dropping his backpack he retrieved a first aid kit. “Let me bandage your hand.”

  I gritted my teeth. The boys wouldn’t see me cry, but it shouldn’t have worried me because now Kevin was sniveling. “I want to go home,” he moaned.

  “Oh for Pete’s sake, Finnegan, pull it together.” Tommy shot a glance at Kevin that would have frozen the pond over had it not been spring.

  Tommy applied ointment and wrapped the bandage like a regular paramedic. When he finished, he gently patted my hand. “I think it will be okay, but let your Grams look at it when we get home.”

  He smiled and my stomach did a little flip. What was that about? “Let’s go boys. We’ve wasted enough time on this little detour.”

  “This place looks good as any.” Tommy dumped his gear on the ground near the corner of a clearing. We had a good view of the house, but were back far enough in the trees not to be seen.

  “Let’s set up. I made jelly sandwiches for dinner and Grams baked fresh cookies this morning. I got us each a couple.”

  We waited for nightfall taking turns watching the house, but nothing moved. Even though it was spring the setting sun disappeared quickly. The shadows grew longer and the sound of coyotes echoed in the distance. Something scampered in the bushes and big yellow eyes peered out at us. I shivered and nudged Tommy on the shoulder. I stiffened my back determined to meet the beast. “What is that?” I asked.

  Tommy picked up a rock and threw it into the undergrowth. A big black barn cat made a zig zag path between us. We laughed. “Just a big old tom,” Kevin said, his voice shaking and my heart hammering in agreement. It could have been a panther. We don’t have panthers. Mountain lions, no, not this far down. Right. Just a cat. I shifted a little closer to Tommy.

  By 7:30 total darkness engulfed us. It was my turn to stand watch. I had just taken my post at the mouth of the clearing. Propping my back against a pine tree, I nested down into the mound of needles Tommy had pushed into a cushion.

  The cold seeped in and I jammed my hands into my pockets. A brief flicker in the window prompted me to rivet toward the house. It caught me off guard, but I saw it just for an instant scrunching up my eyes to make sure. “I see the light.” I whispered. “Come over here.” Tommy and Kevin knelt next to me. We watched the glow move from room to room, just like the story. We crept from edge of the clearing, out of the cover of the trees and had gone too far to turn back. Inching out on our stomachs we used our elbows to drag ourselves along.

  Kevin whimpered.

  “Shut up, Finnegan,” Tommy hissed.

  “My allergies. All these weeds and flowers are making me sick.” Kevin snuffled.

  “You’re making me sick.” Tommy huffed as he slid along on his stomach. “Be quiet.”

  Kevin sneezed. A loud dinner bell clanged from the porch.

  We froze. Kevin buried his head into the crook of his arm to ward off another sneezing fit. Tommy reached over and took my hand, but didn’t say a word. My heart ricocheted against my ribs. I agreed to acknowledge the knot in my stomach that had grown since this morning.

  “Who’s out there? I’ll shoot if you don’t answer.” The tall, thin, elderly woman stood in the doorway, a 12-gauge shot gun resting on her forearm.

  “You go D.J. She won’t shoot a girl.” Kevin, once more about to cry, sounded all too ready to give me up for slaughter. I stood and slowly walked toward the house.

  “What do you want, girl?” She moved the gun to stand beside her, the wooden stock against her leg.

  “We came to solve the mystery.” My voice quivered more than I’d intended.

  “What mystery?” Her voice softened from harshness to inquisitive.

  “The lights floating around in this house–story is it was a ghost. We didn’t know you lived here.”

  “Few people do. Who’s the ‘we’ you’re referring to?”

  I motioned the boys onto the porch. They stood and walked up beside me.

  “You three into the entryway,” she barked. “Tell me this ghost story.”

  I told her everything I knew. The corner of her mouth trembled now and then and wondered if she’d heard it before. The astonishment that tore through me must have registered on my face when the woman finally spoke.

  “I’m Elizabeth Ann. I’m not a ghost, don’t look so scared.” She reminded me of Grams, just older.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” Tommy interjected. Kevin’s skin took on the color of split pea soup and he stayed bolted in place.

  “I would have been, too, if it wasn’t for Jack Swan.”

  “Jack Swan? My Grams’ grandfather? What did he do?”

  Miss Elizabeth turned facing me. “First, what happened to your hand?”

  I looked down at the bloody once white bandage. “I fell on the trail near the pond this afternoon.”

  She held out her hand. “Let me see it. Your bandage is dirty. You could get an infection.” Reaching for the handle she opened the door. “Go on in now, through the living room and into the kitchen.”

  The huge house reminded me of the Kansas City Museum, a seventy room house owned by some guy back in the 1800’s. The old furniture, antiques as Gram would call them, sparkled with a fresh coating of orange oil. A large couch and two side chairs in leather then another arrangement of furniture upholstered in a velvet looking material sat near a bay window. The room, warm and inviting, resembled a page torn from the museum pamphlet.

  I hesitated taking it all in when Elizabeth pointed to a chair at the kitchen table. “I won’t hurt you. Now let me look at that hand.”

  Peeling back the bandage, the cut oozed again. I bit into my bottom lip as the last bit of gauze stuck to my flesh. I held my upright palm in her direction. “You didn’t answer my questions about Jack Swan.”

  “Tell you what.” She turned to the boys. Her mouth tilted up at the corners when she looked at Kevin then her gaze came to rest on Tommy. “You two go right through there and wash up and come back. I have a job for you.”

  Kevin and Tommy obliged returning in a flash. “Did you even get those hands wet?” she asked.

  They held their hands up for her approval. “Ok, then. Go over there to the stove and turn on the kettle. What’s your name?” She nodded to Tommy.

  “Thomas, ma’am.”

  Thomas! I almost laughed and if I hadn’t been afraid I’d be grounded all of my high school years when this woman talked to Grams and the boy’s parents I might have. Tommy was never that formal.

  “I’ll bet it’s Tommy, isn’t it?”

  He shook his head in agreement and turned the burner on under the kettle. “Thanks, Tommy, now get some plates from that cupboard over there and you and…”

  “Kevin, Miss Elizabeth.” Tommy answered for him.

  “Cat got your tongue?” she asked.

  “Nnnnno, Kevin Finnegan,” he stuttered.

  “Okay, Mr. Finnegan. There’s a chocolate cake yonder in the pantry. Go get it and slice us each a piece while I fix her up.” The boys went to work and Elizabeth continued to examine my hand.

  “Well, if your Jack Swan’s great great granddaughter you must be Deborah Jean. Do they call you that or Debbie?”

  “D.J., Miss Elizabeth.”

  “Ahh that suits you. You’re a brave girl. This hand must have hurt like the dickens.”

  With the temporary bandage Tommy had wrapped on my hand removed, the cut throbbed red and angry. Grams would be upset with me, not only for getting hurt but lying and dragging the boys into my adventure. I cringed from the pain–the reminder I’d have to face Grams and whatever punishment she dispensed.

  Miss Elizabeth went to the sink and came back with a bowl of warm water, a cloth, and a bar of white creamy soap. She gently washed away the dirt and the blood then applied a salve from a fruit jar.

  “Be still, now and I’ll tell you what you want. Then we’ll have cake with the boys.”

  I bobbed my head in agreeme
nt but a tear threatened to fall. She handed me a towel and smiled.

  “The night of the accident, when my papa drowned, my little body came to rest on the bank under the scrub brush. The men assumed I’d drowned, too. After all the commotion, Mr. Swan walked down to the creek to see what had happened and found me. I’d been out in the cold for close to an hour. I almost died. When his wife nursed me back to health, they found my mother. I went to stay with her. I spent most of my childhood in boarding schools. When I finished, I realized I didn’t fit into my mother’s life and returned here to Papa’s land.”

  “Why didn’t you let anyone know who you were?”

  “I didn’t want to be treated like my papa just for being different. When I go into town, I use my mother’s name, McCrackin. No one knows who I am and few are aware I’m out here. I have a hired man to help and I stay to myself. I have no friends in Four Corners. Jack Swain, bless him, never told a soul.”

  “Miss Elizabeth. My Grams would be your friend.” With halting steps I moved closer to the old woman and watched a tear run down her weathered face.

  “Do you kids want me to take you home to your parents?”

  Our biggest fear. “No!” The three of us echoed.

  “We need to go,” Tommy said edging toward the door.

  Kevin who’d found his tongue chimed in, “Our camping gear is out in your clearing.”

  “It’s cold out there. Come up and stay in the barn. This will be our secret. I won’t tell if you don’t. I’ll remain the ghost of Parker house.”

  We couldn’t get out of there fast enough, but I looked back at the porch and she waived a frail hand.

  We slept until eight the next morning tired from our adventure with a chocolate induced daze from the wonderful cake we ate in Miss Elizabeth’s warm kitchen. When we got home, I for one couldn’t keep my secret from Grams since the first thing she noticed was the bandage on my hand.

  “Well, D.J., what do you think your punishment should be?” Grams eyed me from across the table.

  “I’m sorry.” Of course I was sorry. I owed Grams something better, but I wanted to solve the mystery and write a story about it. I wound up getting the boys in trouble, too.”