Uncle Hal snorted. “I told you he’s a hardhead. Right now he’s back there giving everybody else a headache.”
“Uncle Hal?” said Allie. “You said you had something in the van to keep Mr. Kavanaugh from making trouble if he woke up. What was it?”
Uncle Hal smiled and said solemnly, “Uncle Hal never reveals his secret methods, remember?”
Mr. and Mrs. Nichols came up onto the stage, and Allie saw that her mother’s eyes and nose were red from crying. She wrapped Michael in one arm and Allie in the other and squeezed them tight, saying, “That was incredible. I felt every bullet in my own heart.”
Mr. Nichols leaned over to hug Allie, then Michael. “Did you two have to do such a good job of dying?” he asked. “I almost couldn’t watch!” To Dub he said, “And your final speech was beautiful.”
Other kids’ parents gathered around, too, their expressions proud but sober. Miss Lunsford walked up then and joined the circle around Allie and Dub. “Well,” she said, “it’s been quite a night, hasn’t it?”
Allie nodded, and glanced at Dub. He looked dazed, but relieved and happy, which was just how she felt.
There was no mistaking the mischievous gleam in Miss Lunsford’s eyes as she continued. “Talk about improvising! That was spectacular.” Turning to Uncle Hal, she stood on her tiptoes and, to Allie’s delight, kissed him on the cheek. “And you were fantastic,” she said softly.
Uncle Hal grinned, looking as if he had just broken five cinder blocks with his bare hands.
Mr. Henry stepped up then. “That’s the way history should be taught,” he declared. “This isn’t a pretty story, but it’s one that needs to be told. You made it come alive.” In a whisper he added, “Later, when the dust settles, I hope you’ll tell me what really happened here tonight.”
“We will,” Allie promised. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around. “Ronnie!” she exclaimed happily. “I’m so glad you came!”
“After you told me about the pageant, I knew I had to come and see it for myself,” Ronnie said. “As you see, I brought a good part of the Seneca nation with me!” Her face grew serious. “I was afraid of what we would see, that the pageant would be, as Skayendady said, a lie. But after what happened here tonight, I know she is pleased, as I am.”
Allie nodded. “She is. She told me, ‘Skennon.’”
Ronnie smiled. “Yes. I feel this, too. Thank you.”
Allie didn’t answer, not knowing how to begin to thank Ronnie.
“I have hope that now, because of you, Poplar Point will remain as it is,” she said quietly. “It is sacred ground, where my ancestors wish to rest in peace.”
Allie nodded and said, “I hope so, too.”
“Oh, I think you can count on that,” someone said.
Allie, Dub, and Ronnie all looked up in surprise to see that Janelle and her mother had joined them. It was Mrs. Kavanaugh who had spoken.
“Congratulations, Allie and Dub, on your improvements to my script,” she continued. “I mean that. I admire what you did here tonight.”
We had a little help from a ghost, Allie thought. And Uncle Hal, Miss Lunsford, and the other kids, including Janelle.
“I don’t know how you managed it,” Mrs. Kavanaugh went on. “It’s not easy to stand up to Darryl. I know that all too well. But you’ve proven it can be done. And I promise you that my husband won’t be building out at Poplar Point.”
“But how can you stop him?” Allie couldn’t help asking. She remembered Janelle saying, “You don’t know my father. When he decides something, it happens.”
Mrs. Kavanaugh gave a small, rueful smile. “He lost a lot of support here tonight. But it’s not only that,” she added firmly. “The project was backed with my money, and I am withdrawing it.” She paused to put her arm around Janelle. “You—and my daughter—taught me a little something tonight about standing up for what is right.”
Michael ran up then, his cheeks flushed deep red with excitement. He tugged on Allie’s arm and said, “Come on! We’re going to our house and ordering pizza and Miss Lunsford and Uncle Hal are coming and he’s bringing all the smoke bombs he didn’t use and Dad says we can set them off in the yard!” He tugged again. “Come on. Brad asked if Uncle Hal would break a board with his hand and he said yes!”
“Okay, okay, Mike,” Allie said with a laugh. “Ronnie, can you come? And your friends?”
“Hurry!” Michael urged before running off.
Ronnie smiled. “Go,” she said. “We’ll see each other again.” She touched her heart. “I feel it here.”
Allie nodded and touched her own heart. Then she turned to Janelle and said, “Can you and your mom come?” She flushed and, not wanting to be rude, added quickly, “Your dad, too. If he wants.”
Janelle didn’t know that less than an hour earlier, very close to where they now stood talking, her father had grabbed Allie and threatened her. Allie had no intention of telling her, and she’d make sure Michael didn’t, either. What mattered was that, because of Janelle’s courage, things were going to be a little different in the Kavanaugh household from now on. What mattered was that Allie had a feeling she and Janelle could become friends. What mattered was that Poplar Point was going to remain as it was.
And Skayendady would be able to rest in peace.
Mrs. Kavanaugh said to Janelle, “Honey, I’m going to go to the hospital with your dad. The EMT is sure he’s fine, but he has to get thoroughly checked out. There’s no reason you can’t go with Allie and Dub, though.”
“Okay,” Janelle said happily.
Michael was at Allie’s side again, nearly breathless with excitement. “Allie, Dub, look! Uncle Hal said I could play with these, just for tonight, in case any more bad guys come!”
He held up his hands, handcuffed together. The cuffs looked sturdy and real, although they hung so loosely on Michael’s little wrists that he could pull his hands out any time he wanted. For the moment, he was clearly enjoying the thrill of being “cuffed.”
Allie’s hand flew to her mouth as her mind formed a mental image of Darryl Kavanaugh handcuffed to the risers backstage while she and the cast carried out the final scene. Turning to Dub, she said, “You don’t think … ?”
They looked at each other, wide-eyed.
Dub grinned and said, “Actually, yeah. I do. We’re talking about Uncle Hal here, remember.” He shrugged and added, “We may never know for sure, though. I don’t think Mr. Kavanaugh’s going to be going around telling the story!”
Allie added, “And Uncle Hal—”
Dub chimed in and, laughing, they finished together, “never reveals his secret methods!”
Author’s Note
I live in central New York State, originally the territory of the Six Nations of Native Americans (Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, Seneca, and Tuscarora) that formed the Haudenosaunee, or Iroquois, Confederacy. My house sits on the shore of Seneca Lake, at Kashong Point. Seneca is the largest of the Finger Lakes and was named after the Seneca people, the first to hunt, fish, farm, and live here.
On the highway, just a few hundred yards from my house, stands a monument showing a map. It commemorates the 1779 campaigns of General John Sullivan and General James Clinton “against the hostile Indian nations” on the frontiers of New York and Pennsylvania.
Kashong Point once held a thriving Seneca village, with orchards and fields and large stores of grain, fruits, and vegetables. Now the area is a community park for lakeside homeowners. Except for a small sign that says simply SITE OF A SENECA INDIAN VILLAGE UNTIL 1779, there is no indication of the drama that occurred here on a warm September day in that year.
When I stand alone at the Point, looking at the swings, the ball diamond, and the pavilion where we have neighborhood dinners and celebrations, I try to picture the village before it was destroyed by Sullivan’s army in a surprise massacre. I try to feel the presence of those Seneca Indians who lived and died here, and sometimes I can. Hence this book.
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br /> The story is fictional, but based on historical fact. The words spoken in the pageant by Dub (as Cornplanter, the famous Seneca orator), Joey (as General John Sullivan), and Brad (as General George Washington) are taken in large part from their letters and written accounts of their speeches. These may be found online at www.sullivanclinton.com, at http://earlyamerica.com/review/1998/sullivan.html, and in John McIntosh’s book The History of the North American Indians (partial title), published in 1859 and accessible through Google.
Also by Cynthia DeFelice
The Apprenticeship of Lucas Whitaker
Bringing Ezra Back
Death at Devil’s Bridge
The Ghost and Mrs. Hobbs
The Ghost of Cutler Creek
The Ghost of Fossil Glen
The Missing Manatee
Nowhere to Call Home
Under the Same Sky
Casey in the Bath,
illustrated by Chris L. Demarest
Old Granny and the Bean Thief,
illustrated by Cat Bowman Smith
One Potato, Two Potato,
illustrated by Andrea U’Ren
The Real, True Dulcie Campbell,
illustrated by R. W. Alley
Copyright © 2007 by Cynthia C. DeFelice
All rights reserved
www.fsgkidsbooks.com
Designed by Jay Colvin
eISBN 9781429965132
First eBook Edition : August 2011
First edition, 2007
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data DeFelice, Cynthia C.
The ghost of Poplar Point / Cynthia DeFelice.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Prompted by the ghost of a young Seneca Indian girl, twelveyear-old Allie and her friend Dub are determined, despite the opposition of an unscrupulous property developer, that the historical pageant celebrating the founding of their town tell the truth about the fate of the Seneca people who lived there during the Revolutionary War.
ISBN-13: 978-0-374-32540-4
ISBN-10: 0-374-32540-5
[1. Ghosts—Fiction. 2. Seneca Indians—Fiction. 3. Pageants—Fiction. 4. Indians of North America—New York (State)—Fiction. 5. New York (State)—Fiction] I. Title.
PZ7.D3597 Gk 2007
[Fic]—dc22
2006047329
The Ghost of Poplar Point Page 12
