Mummy, the Will, and the Crypt
Page 12
After a week the professor drove Johnny home to Duston Heights. When he arrived, he got lots of hugs and kisses from his grandmother, who was bustling around like her old self now. And Grampa shook the professor's hand so many times that the professor finally had to tell him to stop.
That evening Fergie came to visit Johnny. Despite their chats at the hospital, they had not had a chance to have a really private conversation. So, the first chance Johnny got, he took Fergie up to his room, and they had a long and excited gabfest. Later, while they played chess, it occurred to Johnny that he had at least gotten one good thing out of this whole mess: He had found a new friend.
The next day Johnny went back to school. He tried to pretend that nothing had happened, but everyone had read about Johnny's adventure in the newspapers. They all wanted to ask him questions, and some kids even wanted his autograph. So, by the time he left school at three fifteen, his nerves were thoroughly frazzled. As he turned onto Fillmore Street and started walking toward his house, he found that he had yet another jolt in store for him on this busy, trying day. There was a car parked in front of his house, a sleek black limousine with a chauffeur at the wheel. A wild thought leaped into Johnny's mind: Could it be his dad?
But it wasn't his dad. Johnny's grandmother met him at the door. She was clearly quite upset and nervous as she explained that there was a lady waiting for him in the parlor. Johnny felt let down, but he was still curious. Who could it be? When he walked in, he saw, seated on the couch, a tall, haughty-looking old woman. She wore an expensive flowered silk dress and a pearl necklace. Rings glittered on her fingers, and her iron-gray hair was arranged in a ripply permanent wave. When she saw Johnny, the woman smiled. Surprisingly it was not merely a polite smile but one of genuine warmth and friendliness.
"How are you!" she said, rising and holding out her hand. "My name is Annabelle Glomus. My husband was H. Bagwell Glomus. You've heard of him, I believe?" Mrs. Glomus's eyes gleamed with amusement. And to Johnny's amazement she winked at him!
"I, uh . . . I, uh . . ." Johnny began, but he couldn't get any further than that. He was really tongue-tied.
Still smiling, Mrs. Glomus sat down again. Johnny sank into a seat next to her. What on earth did she want?
Then Mrs. Glomus picked up her large patent-leather purse. She opened it up and took out a checkbook and a gold-plated fountain pen. As Johnny watched she began to write out a check.
"I have heard about your exploits up in New Hampshire," she said with a faint tinge of amusement in her voice. "And I must say that I'm sorry, profoundly sorry, that the famous Glomus puzzle led you on a wild-goose chase and almost turned out very badly indeed. For myself I never thought there was a will at all. I believed the puzzle was merely something dreamed up by my late husband to drive us all mad. But now that it seems there was a will, I must say that I am extremely glad it was destroyed. At my age I have no stomach for bickering. It was those greedy sons of mine who advertised in the paper and hounded me into putting up the reward money. They both thought that the will would make them richer—though I could never figure out why. I mean, my dear sweet late husband was capable of doing a lot of strange things. He might have left my sons a bundle. On the other hand, he might have left his money to the Ku Klux Klan or to a cat hospital in New South Wales. So, on the whole, I think we're much better off with no will at all. But since you did find the will—that is, you found out where it was hidden—and fair is fair, I want you to have this."
When she had gotten out this last sentence, Mrs. Glomus tore the check out of her checkbook and handed it to Johnny. It was made out to him, for ten thousand dollars.
Johnny was stunned. He tried to say something, but once again words failed him. While he was stammering, Mrs. Glomus stood up and started to leave. At the door she paused and turned back to him once more.
"Good day to you, young man. I hope you do something enjoyable with the money. And I hope you will realize that not all of the members of the Glomus family are like my late husband's sister. Some of us are quite sane and reasonable . . . and nice people too." And with that, Mrs. Glomus turned and swept grandly out of the room, leaving Johnny alone with the check in his hands.
As soon as Johnny had recovered from the shock he ran out into the kitchen to tell his grandmother and grandfather.
"Well, my Lord!" exclaimed Gramma, holding the check up and peering at it in astonishment. "Who woulda thought it? I mean, heavens to Betsy, who?" She handed it back to Johnny and shook her head solemnly. "Well, my boy," she said, putting her hand on Johnny's arm, "this has really been a time for s'prises for us all lately! Do you think the s'prises are all over with? For now, I mean?"
Johnny said that he figured they were. But he was wrong. In fact, he had just barely finished speaking when there was a loud squeal of brakes outside. His first thought was that it was Mrs. Glomus coming to take the check back. But when he rushed out to the bay window in the parlor, he saw that the car that had just pulled up was khaki-colored. On its door words were stenciled in white paint: U.S. ARMY. Then Johnny saw the door on the passenger side open. Somebody got out. With a joyful whoop Johnny rushed to the front door and tore it open. He galloped across the porch and down the front steps. Standing next to the car was a man in a gray U.S. Air Force uniform. Battle ribbons and medals covered the left side of the man's uniform jacket, and on his cap and shoulders were the insignia of a captain. His face was craggy, seamed with wrinkles, and deeply tanned. But in spite of the tan, the man's face looked pinched and worn, as if he had just been through a bad time. Nonetheless he was smiling broadly and holding out his arms to Johnny. Rushing forward with happy yells and yips and whoops, Johnny threw himself against the man and hugged him tight. The man hugged him back, and now he was crying. The two of them just stood there, holding each other for a long time.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1983 by John Bellairs
Cover design by Open Road Integrated Media
ISBN 978-1-4976-2535-8
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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