Take Charge

by Melody Carlson

  chapter four

  After just a few minutes of driving, Mrs. Watson turned off the main highway onto Amelia Lane. Amy remembered that Cara had mentioned that name only a few days ago. She wondered if she would see Cara there today and whether Cara had given Miss McPhearson her note.

  “Do you think Amelia Lane is named after Captain McPhearson’s wife?” asked Amy as Mrs. Watson turned onto a long, graveled driveway with tall hedges growing up both sides. “You know he married Amelia Boscoe before founding the town.”

  “I think that’s a very good guess,” said Mrs. Watson as she parked in front of a large dark house that loomed before them like a tall shadow. It was made of charcoal-colored stone and had what Amy imagined might be a Gothic look to it.

  “Wow,” said Amy. “That’s one spooky-looking house.”

  Mrs. Watson chuckled. “Yes, I remember having that same feeling long ago when I came up here with Margaret for a birthday party. I’d never seen the house up close before, and with all its turrets and leaded windows and oversized doors, well, I thought that perhaps a giant or a witch lived inside.”

  Amy laughed nervously as she remembered what Cara had said about the Dragon Lady. “I can see how you’d think that. Was it any less frightening once you got inside? For the party, I mean?”

  “Oh, yes. It was perfectly lovely. All lit up and decorated with balloons and streamers and party things. My, they used to give some wonderful parties up here in those days. You see, Viola was an only child and, as I recall, she had everything a girl could possibly want back then. I even remember feeling slightly jealous of her … especially during the Depression when so many of us were making do with hand-me-downs and resoled shoes and whatnot. But Viola always seemed to have things that looked new and expensive.” Mrs. Watson laughed as she turned off the engine. “It seems rather silly now, but I can remember feeling very disturbed about it when I was a girl. It just didn’t seem fair.”

  “I’ve felt like that before,” admitted Amy. In particular she was remembering how jealous she’d been the first time she’d gone to Chelsea’s house. It seemed as if Chelsea had everything too. Still, Amy had tried not to show her envy. And eventually she became pretty good friends with Chelsea. But the truth was she still struggled with the green-eyed monster sometimes.

  Mrs. Watson got out of the car and looked at Amy. “Are you ready for this?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Well, as you know, we may not get past the front door.”

  Amy crossed her fingers as they walked up the paved path to the large and intimidating front door. It did look as if a giant or even a Dragon Lady might live here.

  Mrs. Watson rang the doorbell and Amy held her breath as they waited. After a few minutes Cara opened the door, but she looked completely shocked to see them there. “Oh!” She looked from Amy to Mrs. Watson then back at Amy again, holding her hand over her mouth.

  “This is Mrs. Watson,” said Amy quickly. “She’s an old friend of Miss McPhearson’s.” Then she turned to Mrs. Watson. “And this is Cara … uh, I don’t know her last name, but she’s a friend of my mother and works at our restaurant sometimes.” She turned back to Cara, who still looked stunned.

  “I’ve come to see Viola,” said Mrs. Watson.

  “Yes.” Cara still looked cautious as she opened the door wider. “Uh, come in. I will go tell her.” Then she led them into a large foyer with stone floors and a winding staircase that seemed to go on forever. Amy tried not to stare at everything, but she wanted to take it all in. The ornate furniture looked as if it had come from other countries, including Asia, as had some of her own family’s pieces. Although they had nothing as grand as any of this.

  “I assume many of these furnishings were collected by old Captain McPhearson,” said Mrs. Watson as if reading Amy’s thoughts, “as he traveled about the world. Imagine the stories these pieces could tell … ”

  “They look very old.”

  Mrs. Watson nodded. “And quite valuable, I’m sure.”

  They stood for what seemed like a long time, and Amy worried that Mrs. Watson might be getting tired. She pointed to an upholstered bench against the wall. “Do you want to sit down?”

  “That’s a good idea.” Mrs. Watson walked over and sat down, putting her purse in her lap. Amy sat beside her. This was so strange. She felt as if she’d just been transported to another place or was living out something in a storybook. Maybe a fairy tale even.

  “It’s kind of cold in here,” noticed Amy.

  “I don’t imagine they have any kind of central heating,” observed Mrs. Watson. “Old homes like this seldom do.”

  Just then Cara returned with a disappointed expression. “I am so sorry,” she told them. “Miss McPhearson does not know a Mrs. Watson.”

  Mrs. Watson tapped the side of her head with her forefinger. “Of course not. Goodness, what was I thinking? Please, dear, tell Viola that Martha O’Hara is here to see her. Tell her that I am Margaret O’Hara’s younger sister.” She peered at Cara. “Can you remember that, dear?”

  “Martha O’Hara,” Cara repeated. “Margaret O’Hara’s sister.”

  “That’s right,” said Mrs. Watson. “See if she remembers those names.”

  They waited again, and Amy was getting even more nervous now. On one hand, she did want to see this strange Viola McPhearson, but on the other hand, what if she got all tongue-tied and nervous and couldn’t even remember why it was she’d come here today? Amy hated looking stupid. Then Amy reminded herself of how she’d stood up and done perfectly well in spelling bees, and how she’d performed without a single slipup for the mental-math competition. Why should this be any different? She took a deep breath and steadied herself as Cara returned for the second time.

  “Miss McPhearson will see you in the library,” she told them, pointing off to her right as she led the way. They followed her down a hallway until she paused by a pair of tall carved doors. Then, pushing one of them open, she nodded into the dimly lit room. Mrs. Watson and Amy went in, but no one was there.

  “Please, sit down,” Cara told them. “Miss McPhearson will come.” Then she left them on their own again.

  “I guess we should sit and wait,” said Amy. She glanced at Mrs. Watson. “I hope you don’t mind. I mean, I didn’t know this would take so long and —”

  “Don’t worry, dear,” said Mrs. Watson as she sat in an overstuffed chair next to the unlit, dark fireplace. “I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”

  Amy blinked in surprise as she sat in a straight-backed chair across from her. Did Mrs. Watson really think this was fun? As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she noticed that the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves were filled with books. Hundreds and hundreds of books. Other than the school and public libraries, she had never seen so many books in one place. “Isn’t it lovely,” she said suddenly.

  “What?” Mrs. Watson looked surprised.

  “All these books.”

  “Oh, yes.” She nodded. “Books are rather nice.”

  “Someday I’ll have a house with a library in it,” proclaimed Amy. “Oh, maybe not as big as this, but I will have one.”

  “Good for you.”

  Just then they heard a noise and looked up to see a shadowy silhouette coming toward them right out of the wall! Amy jumped in her chair, thinking that she was seeing an actual ghost. But the figure made a harrumph sound as it came closer, and Amy realized that it looked more like an old woman. It must be Viola McPhearson.

  Amy stood and nearly bowed, but stopped herself. “I’m Amy Ngo,” she said quickly. “And this is my friend —”

  “Martha O’Hara,” Mrs. Watson finished for her as she stood and extended her hand to the elderly woman. “I’m Margaret’s younger sister. Do you remember me, Viola?”

  Viola ignored Mrs. Watson’s hand as she slowly sat in the overstuffed chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. She took her time to carefully arrange her feet on a small footstool. But her expression was grim a
s she studied the two of them. She had on a gray skirt that matched her hair and a pale blue cardigan sweater that was buttoned all the way up to her sagging double chin. Her nose was long — a bit like a beak — and a pair of thick, oversized glasses seemed to teeter on its bridge, making her eyes appear large and owlish. In a way, she looked kind of interesting, except for her sour expression. It was a little intimidating.

  “You’re the girl who wrote me the letter,” said Miss McPhearson in a voice that sounded almost like a man’s. Maybe she was a smoker. Amy remembered an old guy named Hank who came to their restaurant every Thursday night at 6:15. He reeked of tobacco and had a deep, raspy voice that Ly said came from smoking too much.

  “Yes,” said Amy. “I wrote the note.”

  “Harrumph.”

  Amy wondered what the proper response to “harrumph” might be.

  “It’s been years,” said Mrs. Watson in a cheerful voice. “How have you been all this time, Viola?”

  Miss McPhearson turned her attention from Amy back to her other guest. She peered at her for a long moment, as if taking her in. “My, but you’ve certainly gotten old,” she said.

  Mrs. Watson laughed. “Happens to the best of us, dear.”

  “Harrumph.”

  “Did you have a chance to read my letter, Miss McPhearson?” asked Amy hopefully.

  “I’m old, not stupid,” she snapped back. “Of course I read it.”

  “Oh.”

  “So you’re aware of the situation with McPhearson Park then,” said Mrs. Watson.

  “Of course I’m aware.”

  “You understand that it’s been vandalized?”

  Miss McPhearson rolled her big owl eyes.

  “Do you plan to do something about it?” asked Mrs. Watson.

  “I don’t see why I should.”

  “Did you get a letter from the city yet?” asked Amy.

  “Don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Miss McPhearson leaned forward in her chair and scowled at Amy.

  Amy looked over at Mrs. Watson now, thankful that she wasn’t facing this Dragon Lady alone.

  “Amy and her friends are very concerned about losing the city park,” explained Mrs. Watson. “It has always been such a wonderful place for the entire town. It would be a shame to see it go.”

  “Looks to me as if it’s already gone,” said Miss McPhearson. “If people want to tear it down and destroy it, why not let them. I certainly don’t plan to stand in their way.”

  “But it is your family’s park,” tried Amy. “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “Don’t know why it should.”

  “But it was always such a beautiful park, Viola. I remember you down at the concerts and dances. You enjoyed it just as much as any of us. Why wouldn’t you want to preserve that?”

  “Because it’s too late. And because I don’t care!”

  “You really don’t care?” began Amy cautiously. “It doesn’t bother you that the city wants to turn your family park into a parking lot?”

  Miss McPhearson didn’t say anything now.

  “Maybe they’ll call it McPhearson Parking Lot,” continued Amy. “And it’ll be nothing but boring gray cement, and it’ll be dusty and hot — ”

  “That’s enough!” said Miss McPhearson.

  “But if you really don’t care …” Amy pressed on. “Why should it bother you?”

  Miss McPhearson narrowed her eyes as she pointed a gnarled finger at Amy. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, young lady!”

  Amy sat back in her chair. Maybe she had pushed the Dragon Lady too far.

  “Now, Viola,” said Mrs. Watson in a soothing voice. “It seems that you do care about your family’s park, don’t you, dear?”

  “Harrumph.”

  “And maybe it does worry you, just a bit, that it could be turned into a parking lot. Just as, I’m sure, it would worry your ancestors as well.”

  Miss McPhearson shrugged ever so slightly.

  “So I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to do something to see that the park is preserved — restored — so that future generations might be able to use it and enjoy it.”

  “Fine. I don’t care if the park is preserved. But I don’t plan on lifting a finger to help. And I won’t spend one single penny on it either. Putting money into that park would be like pouring water down a rat hole.”

  Amy wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but she decided to just ignore it. “My friends and I are willing to work on the park,” she said eagerly. “We fixed up our trailer park — we planted green things and cleaned it up — and we can work to fix up the city park too.”

  “I seriously doubt that.”

  “We can,” Amy insisted. “If you will just give us your permission, I think we can have a lot done within thirty days. You’ll see.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “Do as you please. I won’t stop you. But don’t come crying to me if it doesn’t work out right.”

  “We won’t,” promised Amy.

  “Good.”

  “So it’s agreed,” said Mrs. Watson. “You give the girls your blessing to do what they can to save McPhearson Park.”

  Miss McPhearson laughed. But there was no happiness in her laugh. More than ever she looked like a real Dragon Lady just now. “My blessing?” she snarled at Amy. “Wouldn’t that be a joke!” Then she stood and walked over to where she had emerged from earlier, and Amy could see now that it was some kind of a hidden door where the bookshelf turned and provided a nifty escape. “Good day!” she snapped just before she disappeared.

  “Wow,” said Amy, letting out a deep breath.

  “Wow is right,” said Mrs. Watson as she stood up. “You are a brave girl, Amy.”

  “Oh, I don’t know …” Amy remembered how she’d chickened out of soccer tryouts earlier today. She wondered how her friends had fared. She also wondered what they’d think of her news. She couldn’t wait to tell them!

  “I hope that it all works out for you and your friends,” said Mrs. Watson as they found their way back down the hallway and to the foyer. Cara didn’t seem to be anywhere around. Amy hoped that she hadn’t gotten in trouble for letting them in. “And I want to make good on my promise to help,” she continued. “If you decide to proceed with the Save the Park project, be sure to write me and I’ll send you a check. Oh, it won’t be much because I’m not rich, but I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thanks,” said Amy as they went outside. But instead of going to the car, Amy walked a bit past the front of the house and peeked around the side. “Oh, my!” she said when she saw the gorgeous view of the ocean. “Look at this.”

  Mrs. Watson joined her. “Yes, the panorama is spectacular here. You should see their backyard, Amy. That is, if it’s been kept up all these years.”

  “I would so love to have a house with a view like this.” Amy sighed as she turned and followed Mrs. Watson back to the car.

  “I remember seeing a sunset here once,” said Mrs. Watson. “So beautiful …”

  “I wonder if Miss McPhearson ever enjoys it?” asked Amy as she buckled her seat belt.

  “It’s hard to say …” Mrs. Watson backed her car out then stopped. “I have an idea, Amy.”

  “What?”

  “It just occurred to me that I still know a few people in this town, people who’ve been here for nearly as long as Viola. Perhaps I could write some letters to some of them, try to garner a little support for your project.”

  “That would be great,” said Amy.

  “Because the more I think about it, the more I think that park needs to be saved. And I want to do whatever I can to help.”

  Amy felt some of her original enthusiasm returning now. “I can’t wait to talk to my friends and tell them that Miss McPhearson said it’s okay. When I have a better idea of what we’re going to do, I’ll get back to you. Okay?”

  “That sounds fine.”

  Amy felt slightly hopeful as they drove back int
o town. In some ways it seemed it would take a real miracle to accomplish this task. Amy remembered the time, not so long ago, when Carlie and Chelsea had been swept out to sea. Morgan and Emily had prayed for them — asking God for a miracle — while Amy used her cell phone to call for help. And when the girls were rescued, both Chelsea and Carlie believed that it really had been a miracle. Maybe they could pray for another one.

  chapter five

  “You should’ve seen the place,” said Amy, as she finished telling her friends at the Rainbow Bus the story of her strange visit to Viola McPhearson’s house.

  “That is so weird,” said Carlie. “Weren’t you scared?”

  “A little,” admitted Amy. “But it was pretty interesting too. That house is totally amazing, like something out of a fairy tale … or maybe even a horror movie if it was a dark and stormy night.” She laughed.

  “You are so lucky,” said Chelsea. “I would love to see the McPhearson mansion. I’ve heard my dad talk about it before. He said it should be in the historical listings and that it’s worth millions.”

  Amy nodded. “It probably is. And it’s full of antiques too. It’s like a museum. But Miss Viola McPhearson … well, she is something else.”

  “Was she crazy like they say?” asked Emily.

  Amy considered this. “No, I don’t think she’s crazy. But she is really mean and cranky. Cara, the girl who works there, calls her the Dragon Lady. Not to her face, of course. But the name seems to be fitting. Miss McPhearson’s tongue is pretty sharp, and she’s a little bit scary too.”

  “But she really said it was okay to fix up the park?” asked Morgan.

  “She sort of snarled it out,” confessed Amy. “But she basically said we could do as we pleased with the park. She didn’t seem to care one way or another … although she doesn’t want it to be a parking lot.”

  “Is that all we need?” asked Carlie. “Just the Dragon Lady’s permission?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Amy. “But at least I had Mrs. Watson there to witness the whole thing. And I have her address and phone number.”