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Closed for the Season

Page 12

by Mary Downing Hahn


  "Let's take some of this stuff home," he said. "We could make the coolest haunted house for Halloween—"

  I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Humpty-Dumpty whose mildewed face really did look gruesome enough to scare just about anyone. "Can't you keep your mind on one thing at a time? We're supposed to find the gingerbread men, remember?"

  Bear barked outside, and the three of us ran out to see what was going on. The dog had pulled a flat, wooden gingerbread man out of a tangle of vines and weeds. Like the little plastic men, his arms stretched out to either side, and his mouth was open in a big "O." If it hadn't been for the slimy slug trails all over him, he would've been kind of cute.

  "There's another one beside him." Arthur struggled to pull kudzu out of the way. Green with moss, the second gingerbread man lay on his back.

  With a lot of effort, we uncovered twelve gingerbread men, all fallen flat and rotting under the kudzu.

  "Mrs. Donaldson must have buried the briefcase near this one." Arthur stared down at the gingerbread man closest to the hut door—and the witch. "That's why she wrote 'And don't be scared in the note."

  He pulled a bent, rusty trowel out of the pocket of his cargo shorts. While I held the flashlight, he began to dig. Bear stuck his nose in the hole. Soon he was digging, too.

  Danny watched the dog with interest. "I bet Grandma took him with her when she buried the briefcase."

  "He did seem to know the way," Arthur said.

  Suddenly, Bear lifted his head and barked. Arthur shone the flashlight into the hole. A rotten leather handle was sticking out of the dirt.

  Pushing Arthur and me aside, Danny lifted the filthy briefcase out carefully and started to fiddle with the rusty catch holding it shut,

  Before he got it open, we heard a rustling sound. A snapping branch. A cough. The smell of cigarette smoke. A trace of perfume. Low voices. Someone was coming—at least three people.

  Bear lifted his head and bared his teeth. Danny grabbed him. "It must be Silas," he whispered. "And Mom."

  "Hide," Arthur whispered. "Don't let them see us."

  Clutching the briefcase, Danny followed Arthur and me back into the hut. Hiding behind the stinky old witch, we held Bear tight and waited.

  19

  Outside, the voices came closer.

  "If you’ve dragged me out here on a wildgoose chase,"a man said, "I won’t be paying a lawyer to get you out of jail."

  "Don't worry," Silas said. "She knows where it's at."

  "I don't know where it is," Violet said. "And, even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

  "This ain't no game," Silas said. "Quit messing with us and show us where it's at."

  Danny crept a little closer to the open door and peered around the witch's ragged skirt. "He'd better not hurt her," he whispered. "I'll kill him if he does, I swear I will."

  Doing my best to keep Bear quiet, I looked over Danny's shoulder and saw a man, his back to us, facing Silas and Violet.

  "Who's that?" I asked.

  Danny shook his head. "The last time I saw Silas, he was leaving on his motorcycle. There wasn't nobody with him."

  "Give me a minute," Arthur said. "I've heard that voice before."

  Outside, Silas raised his voice. "I'm your husband," he said. "You do what I say, when I say it."

  "We got a divorce," Violet said. "Or did you forget?"

  From the sound of it, Silas gave Violet a hard slap. Danny cussed, and I winced as if Silas had hit me. When Bear growled, Arthur cupped the dog's muzzle in his hands. "Hush," he whispered. "Please, Bear."

  "The briefcase belongs to me," the stranger said, "I'd appreciate your giving it to me, Violet."

  "Tell the man where it is." Silas hit her again, harder this time.

  Beside me Danny doubled his fists and cussed again, using longer and worse words this time. "I'll kill him," he muttered.

  Violet looked at the stranger. Her hair hung in her eyes, and a dribble of blood ran from her nose. "I won't tell you anything! Or him, either!"

  "Are you going to make me beat the truth out of you?" Silas hit her again. She stumbled backward, and he came after her, fist drawn back, aiming at her face.

  With a muffled cry, Danny jumped out from our hiding place and ran toward Silas. "Leave her be!" he shouted, "Don t hurt her!"

  Before Silas had time to react, Danny tackled him and knocked him down. At the same moment, Bear broke away from Arthur and me and threw himself on Silas. Losing his grip on Danny, Silas rolled around on the ground, trying to choke the dog. "Get him off me!" he yelled. "Get him off me!"

  Without looking at Silas, Violet stumbled toward the hut. "Run," she cried to Arthur and me. "Get the police!"

  The third person stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Arthur and I stared at him in disbelief. Mr. DiSilvio—Anthony the perfect one's father. Mr. DiSilvio—sponsor of the soccer team. Mr. DiSilvio—giver of parties. Mr. DiSilvio—embezzler ... murderer.

  "Nobody's going anywhere." Mr. DiSilvio's low voice had a hard edge that scared me more than Silas s shouts and curses. He also had a gun in his hand—which really scared me.

  "I told you there was something fake about that man," Arthur whispered.

  Glancing at Danny, Mr. DiSilvio added, "Get that dog under control before I shoot him."

  Without a word of protest, Danny grabbed Bear's collar and tried to drag him away from Silas. "Get off!" he shouted. "Get off him. Leave him be!"

  Still growling, Bear let go. It was clear he hadn't done all he wanted to do to Silas. Chew his leg off. Kill him. Eat him.

  "Look at my jeans!" Silas yelled. "That dog tore the leg half off. He bit me. I'm bleeding!"

  "Shut up, Silas. I'm tired of your whining." Mr. DiSilvio didn't look at the man as he spoke. Instead, his eyes focused on me. "I told you to stay away from this place, Logan. It's too bad you and your neighbor didn't listen to my advice."

  "What are you going to do with us?" Arthur's voice shook, and I was cold all over. I'd never really believed we could be killed in the Magic Forest, but it seemed pretty possible now.

  Mr. DiSilvio looked at his gun as if he'd just noticed it was in his hand. "It all depends on Violet," he said softly. "Once she produces my briefcase—the one her mother stole from my office—I'll make a decision."

  We looked at her. She folded her arms tightly across her chest as if she were freezing. The blood from her nose had snaked down the front of her T-shirt, leaving a dark streak.

  "Stupid female," Silas said. "It's not my fault she won't tell you nothing, Mr. DiSilvio. She's stubborn as a mule and twice as dumb."

  "Don t talk about Mom like that," Danny said. "Or I'll—"

  "Or you'll what?" Silas punched him so fast no one saw it coming.

  Danny reeled backward and lost his grip on Bear's collar. The dog charged at Silas, but this time he was ready. Picking up a fallen branch, Silas swung at Bear. That sent Danny into action again. Getting to his feet, he hurled himself at Silas. Cussing and yelling like a crazy kid, he pummeled his father with his fists. "Leave Bear be! He was Grandma's dog!"

  Silas shoved Danny so hard he landed on the ground with a thud that made me wince. "Don't try that again," Silas said, "or I'll bust your head open."

  Arthur and I managed to keep Bear from going after Silas, but it took all of our strength.

  Mr. DiSilvio looked at us wearily. It was clear he didn't know what to do with any of us. Turning to Violet, he added, "I'm tired of this charade. The briefcase, if you please."

  "She don't have it," Danny said. "We dug it up already. It's in there." He pointed at the Witch's Hut. "Take it and let us go."

  "Moron!" Arthur clenched his teeth in frustration. "He'll shoot us all now," he muttered to me. "He doesn't have any reason not to."

  Mr. DiSilvio strode to the hut. The moment he stepped inside, I heard a shout from the woods.

  "I knew you'd be here, Silas!" Billy Jarmon crashed out of the kudzu. "You ain't going nowhere with that mone
y. Not till you give me and Johnny our share."

  Johnny was behind Billy. And behind Johnny was Nina. Stunned speechless, I closed my eyes and hoped I'd see someone else when I opened them. But it was still her—Nina Stevens. The look she gave me was anything but friendly. For a second, I thought she was going to march over and shake Arthur and me senseless. Instead, she turned her head away as if she couldn't stand the sight of us. She didn't care what happened to us. Why should she? We were just two kids who'd gotten in her way.

  Although it made me sick, I found myself wondering if she'd been in cahoots with Billy and Johnny all along. Maybe she wasn't even a reporter. Maybe she'd played the part so she could ask questions about the murder and the money. For all I knew, she was a Jarmon or a Phelps. After all, she was a liar, a schemer, a crook—just like them.

  I wanted to tell her what I thought of her, maybe even cuss her out, but I knew I'd be better off keeping my mouth shut. With any luck, the whole bunch of them would forget about Arthur and me, and we could sneak into the kudzu and run for home.

  I watched Johnny saunter into the clearing, but Nina stayed where she was, as if she were waiting for something to happen.

  "Thanks for making so much noise," Johnny told Silas. "We knew you were here somewhere, but if Bear hadn't been barking and you hadn't been yelling and cussing, we never would have found you."

  Silas was about to say something when Billy turned on him angrily. "Hey, what happened to Violet? She don't look too good. You been hitting her again?"

  "Shut your stupid mouth." Silas gestured at the Witch's Hut. Mr. DiSilvio was standing in the doorway, the briefcase in one hand, the gun in the other.

  "I don't want to use this," he said. "So I suggest you all come into the hut and allow me to leave with my briefcase."

  "You ain't going nowhere without me," Silas said. "We made a deal."

  "The deal didn't include all these people." Mr. DiSilvio waved the gun at Arthur and me, Danny and Violet, Johnny and Billy. So far he hadn't noticed Nina. But she'd noticed him.

  "Richard DiSilvio," she said softly, as if she were greeting an old friend.

  "Nina." Mr. DiSilvio stared at her, obviously surprised. "What are you doing here?"

  "I'm arresting you," she said, holding up a badge that shone like silver in the moonlight. In her other hand was a revolver. "Detective Nina Stevens, Richmond police," she announced. "Drop the gun and the briefcase. Then get on the ground, face-down."

  Arthur gasped, and my knees went weak with relief. Nina wasn't a crook. She wasn't a Jarmon or a Phelps. She was a cop. Nina was a cop. A detective. I could hardly believe it.

  If Mr. DiSilvio was surprised, he hid it well. "On what charges?" he asked as if he were inquiring about the score of a baseball game.

  Never taking the gun or her eyes off him, Nina said, "Embezzlement, homicide, money laundering, racketeering. Is that enough for now?"

  Instead of showing fear or even alarm, Mr. DiSilvio simply sighed. Then, in one quick move, he grabbed Violet and held her in front of him. "I really don't feel like being arrested tonight," he said. "So unless you want an ugly scene, I suggest you—"

  "Let her go!" Nina shouted. "You can't get away—the woods are crawling with police."

  As she spoke, Danny hurled himself at Mr. DiSilvio. Surprised, the man lost his hold on Violet and the gun. As she fell to the ground, Mr. DiSilvio made a dash for the woods and dove into the kudzu, leaving the vines waving.

  "Nobody move!" Nina yelled at the rest of us, but she was too late to stop Silas, Billy, and Johnny. They'd disappeared when Mr. DiSilvio grabbed Violet.

  "Stop that man!" Violet cried to Nina. "He killed my mother!"

  Nina put an arm around Violet s shoulders. "Don't worry," she said. "He won't get far."

  At that moment, an uproar exploded in the woods. Branches snapped, bushes rustled, kudzu swayed, flashlights probed the shadows.

  The police, I thought. But I was wrong. At least ten or twelve protesters surged out of the woods, waving SAVE THE MAGIC signs and singing "Follow the Yellow Brick Road," very loudly and incredibly badly. A wheezing accordion accompanied them, along with what sounded like a tuba, a couple of flutes, bagpipes, and several harmonicas.

  The Three Bears were right out in front, their arms linked with Goldilocks, Alice in Wonderland, Old King Cole, Mother Goose, Humpty-Dumpty, and Little Bo Peep. Behind them were a fat man in lederhosen playing the accordion and a man in a kilt puffing on a bagpipe.

  Barking and growling, Bear doubled and redoubled his efforts to get away from us. Arthur, Danny, and I could barely hold him.

  Nina turned on the protesters in amazement, but they were so focused on what they were doing that they didn't even seem to notice her. Or the revolver in her hand. Or her big shiny badge.

  A woman wearing a braided yellow wig and a peasant dress ran out of the woods. "There's the Witch's Hut," she cried joyfully. "Just the way I remember it!"

  "Are you here for the protest, too?" Humpty-Dumpty asked Violet. She stared at the ground and said nothing.

  "Where's your costume?" Little Bo Peep wanted to know.

  Violet shook her head and tried to fade into the shadows before anyone noticed her face.

  "It doesn't matter what she's wearing," Old King Cole said. "We need help to stop those bulldozers."

  Just then a police helicopter roared overhead and shone a brilliant spotlight on us. An officer with a megaphone shouted, "Nobody move! Stay where you are! This is a crime scene."

  "It's the cops," someone yelled. "We're exercising our right to protest! They have no grounds to arrest us!"

  Nina stepped up to the protesters. "I'm Detective Nina Stevens," she told them. "The police aren't here for you. Four fugitives are at large in the park. Two of the men are extremely dangerous. I advise you to stay where you are and let us take care of this. If you insist on blundering around in the woods, you'll be charged with interference."

  Old King Cole eyed Nina anxiously. "But what about our protest? The bulldozers are scheduled to start in the morning. We have to stop them."

  Instead of answering, Nina pulled out a cell phone and began talking to the police in the helicopter.

  The protesters milled around, mumbling and muttering and complaining. Some of them wanted to fan out through the park as they'd planned, but most of them just stood there, holding SAVE THE MAGIC signs and looking as glum as grownups dressed in Mother Goose costumes can look.

  Danny, Arthur, and I were huddled around Bear doing our best to control him. Violet stood a few feet away, arms still folded tightly across her chest, head down to hide her face, as if she was ashamed that Silas had beaten her.

  Danny looked at his mother. "He's not getting away with this," he muttered. With one quick, unexpected move, he yanked Bear away from Arthur and me. Free at last, the dog took off through the crowd of protesters, with Danny close behind him.

  A glance at Nina and Violet told us that neither woman had noticed Danny's disappearance. Taking advantage of the restless, noisy crowd of protesters, Arthur and I darted between and around them, hard on Danny's heels.

  20

  We caught up with Danny near Mother Hubbard’s Cupboard. Bear ran to lick our faces, but Danny stared at us angrily. "Why don’t you go home and leave me alone."

  "We came to help you catch DiSilvio and Silas," Arthur said.

  "I don't need your help. I have Bear—and this." Danny took Mr. DiSilvio's gun out of his pocket. "I'll kill both of them if I have to."

  "Where did you get that?" I edged closer to Arthur. There was no telling whom Danny might decide to shoot.

  "I picked it up when DiSilvio dropped it," he said.

  "You wouldn't kill your own father," Arthur whispered.

  "He don't deserve to be anybody's father." Suddenly, Bear raced away, and Danny took off after him. "Wait up, Bear!" he hollered.

  Arthur and I chased them, tripping over roots and vines, stumbling down hills, ducking clumps of kudzu. Just
ahead, Bear was barking and Danny was yelling. Please, I whispered, please don't let Danny shoot anybody.

  Snuffling with fear, I staggered after Arthur. We broke into a clearing. Mr. DiSilvio stood with his back pressed against a tree, kept there by Bear. Silas was nowhere in sight, and neither was the briefcase. Billy and Johnny weren't there, either.

  Danny stood a few feet away, pointing the gun at Mr. DiSilvio. His hands shook, but I was sure he'd pull the trigger if the man moved. "Who killed my grandma?" he shouted. "You or my father?"

  Mr. DiSilvio stared at him, making no effort to hide his contempt. "Put that gun down, you little punk."

  Danny hurled a few swear words at the man, then repeated his question. "Who killed my grandma?"

  Mr. DiSilvio didn't answer. His eyes were cold, but I guessed he was more scared than he let on. He was a ruined man. Nothing could save him now.

  Overhead, the police helicopter circled, motor roaring, shining a spotlight down through the treetops. Someone shouted in the woods, and Arthur yelled, "Over here, over here!"

  Mr. DiSilvio folded his arms across his chest and sagged against the tree, but Danny held the gun with both hands, the way cops do in movies and on TV. "Answer me, you—" More cussing.

  Three policemen in bulletproof vests crashed out of the kudzu. "Put the gun down, son," one shouted.

  But Danny kept the gun pointed at Mr. DiSilvio. "Not till he answers me!"

  "Are you crazy?" Arthur yelled. "Do what he says. He'll shoot you if you don't."

  The cop scowled at Arthur. I guessed he didn't think of himself as the kind of man who shot twelve-year-old kids, even if they did have guns and were named Phelps.

  At that moment, Violet ran out of the woods, screaming at the cops. "Don't shoot him, he's just a child."

  By now, Danny was crying. Snot dripped from his nose. His hands shook so badly, he couldn't keep the gun pointed at Mr. DiSilvio. "He deserves to die," he wailed.

  The cop walked over to Danny and took the gun from him. "We'll take care of him, son."

  Violet tried to hug Danny, but he pulled away from her. "I'm not a child," he yelled through his tears.

 

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