Mrs. Silvers walked toward the door with hardly any limp at all, and then she turned back. “I almost forgot to give you this.” She took an envelope out of her sweater pocket and handed it to me. “It’s mail that came to my house for your mom. I guess with the similar house number and our initials being the same and all, it’s easy to get us mixed up.”
“My mom’s initials are BQ,” I said.
“Well, like you said, names change. Mine used to be Regina Wright, but when I married, it became Silvers. Your mom used to be Becky Smythe, before she married.” She added, “You’ll give this to her? It looks like an important invitation.”
“Of course,” I said.
Mrs. Silvers and Elvis left the building.
Darbie asked, “For a second I thought she meant your mom was RS.”
I held up the envelope addressed to Rebecca Smythe Quinn. “Becky is short for Rebecca,” I said. “It’s a family name.”
“RS,” Hannah said slowly.
We heard Señora Perez giggle as the beaded curtain swung closed.
29
Road Trip
The next day I asked, “So, Mom, when are you leaving for your reunion?” at the same time I texted Tony the recent RS intel.
He replied, It was your mom all along and you didn’t know it?
“Tomorrow around eleven. I’m taking the noon train,” Mom said. “Why?”
Yeah, I responded to Tony. Then to Mom I said, “I was thinking it would be nice for me to see where you grew up.” Then I added, “And my friends, too.”
Tony asked, If your mom hid—as in, she didn’t want anyone to find it—the Book in the attic then why wouldn’t she move it when she knew you were cleaning it?
Hmmm.
“That’s a great idea, Kell. You can stay with your aunt Aggie while I’m at the reunion. She’s been dying for you to visit. When I tell her that you and your friends want to see what Salem is like during Halloween, she is going to be delighted!”
“Aunt Aggie doesn’t eat, right?”
Mom sighed. “Don’t exaggerate. She eats. She’s vegan. It’s very healthy for you.”
“And she would be okay if I brought friends?”
“The girls? Sure. She’d love it.”
“And how about the Rusamano twins?”
“The more the merrier.” Then she added, “I’ll just give her a call.” Before dialing, she said, “You might want to tell Darbie to pack snacks, just to be safe.”
I texted the girls and the Rusamanos, It’s a go. Meet at my house tomorrow at eleven.
Then I texted just the girls, What about CB? We can’t go away and leave her entranced.
Darbie texted, Sure we can.
Hannah’s text was more helpful, so I called Charlotte to come over.
She knocked on the back door. I opened it and said, “Come in.” She didn’t say anything sassy like she usually does when I open the door for her. I said, “Charlotte, I want you to delete the videos and pictures of the Book from your phone.
She did exactly what I said. Man, I loved Memory Maker Part Two. I was going to miss it.
Then I took out a Moon Honey drop that we’d gotten from Señora P that morning. “Eat this.” I commanded.
After she finished, she looked startled, like she had no idea what was going on.
“Kelly Quinn!” she yelled at me. “You . . . what are you doing? What was I saying?”
I helped her out, “You think that I’m not good at soccer, or . . . anything, actually.”
“Yeah. You should take it more seriously, like Hannah. If you trained and practiced like me, there could be hope for you.”
“You’re probably right. You go on home, and I’m gonna have a long think about that.”
Just then my mom came into the kitchen. “Hi, Charlotte,” she said. “It’s so nice to see you two finally hanging out together.”
“Oh, I know!” Charlotte said. “In fact, I was just telling Kelly how we need to train for soccer together.”
“That’s a good idea,” Mom agreed. “Bring a ball with you this weekend, and you can kick it around.”
“Uh, Mom . . .”
“This weekend?” Charlotte asked.
“To Salem. We’re going. You should totally come with us,” Mom said.
“Oh, Mom, Charlotte wouldn’t like that. She is much too busy with important things to do. You know, she has student council, and she’s popular, and all that. And,” I said to Charlotte, “my aunt Aggie is a little weird.” I twirled my finger outside my ear. “She’s a vegan.” I stuck a finger into my mouth.
“Actually, that all sounds great. I’m always looking for ways to improve my health,” Charlotte said. “And for once, I’m free this weekend!”
“Excellent. And maybe you can rub some of your healthy habits off on Darbie,” Mom said.
“I can try, Mrs. Quinn, but she’s a tricky one, that rascal.”
“Don’t I know it,”’ Mom said. “Do you know what she does to my M&M’s?”
“Only too well.”
Mom said, “We’re leaving for the train at noon, so you better get packed up. I can talk to your mom about the trip, if she wants.”
“No need. If you’re going, she’ll be fine with it. She thinks you’re a model mother, Mrs. Quinn.”
My mom blushed, and I rolled my eyes at Charlotte’s blatant brown-nosing.
“I’ll bring my sneakers, for sure, so I can jog in the early a.m.”
Mom said, “Kell, that’s not a bad idea.”
“Super,” I mumbled.
Charlotte bopped out the back door, and Mom went upstairs.
I texted the girls that Charlotte was coming with us for the weekend, to search in a tomb for a letter about the rules of the magic of our Secret Recipe Book.
How did that happen? Hannah texted.
Luckily, I didn’t have to answer because Darbie wrote right back with, What’s the deal with the food?
Just pack yourself plenty of snacks, I responded.
On it, Darbie replied.
* * *
As I waited for the rest of my friends (and Charlotte) to arrive, I thought about Tony’s question while I flipped through an album of old photos mom had left on the counter. There were pictures of her high school graduation, in 1996. I doodled math on a napkin—Hannah could’ve done it in her head. My mom wouldn’t have even been born in 1959, so she couldn’t be our RS.
Were we headed on a wild RS chase?
30
When in Salem
We took the Acela out of downtown Wilmington and headed north. Even though we pretty much ate for five whole hours the entire way there, we didn’t even dent Darbie’s stash of food: summer sausages, beef sticks, and canned hash—which sounds gross but is de-lish!
We got off the train at the Salem stop (Mom went one stop farther to her reunion in Danvers) and stepped onto the platform to search for Aunt Aggie.
“Um,” Hannah said. “This could be difficult.”
We were just a week and a half from Halloween, and Salem takes Halloween very seriously. So people start dressing up early. We had to find Aggie among the sea of elaborate costumes, masks, and really impressive made-up faces.
I walked through the crowds of people in the train station and tried to give everyone a close look without being too creepy or rude, but Darbie was the one who found her by dragging her suitcase around calling “Aunt Aggie? Aunt Aggie!” like a lost puppy.
Not two seconds later I heard, “Yoo-hoo! Kelly!” And then I saw her familiar smile. Aggie was tall and slim and a few years younger than my mom. She was dressed in a black shirt and leggings with a long black velvet cape with purple satin trim thrown over her shoulders. She was wearing a pointed witch’s hat that was dolled-up with purple boa feathers, and she had purple rhinestones in the corners of her eyes.
“You look great,” I said to her.
“When in Salem . . .” She spread her arms and twirled so that we could take in the whole getup,
complete with the purple high heels.
She grabbed me into a big hug. And then each of my friends. Charlotte stood stiffly when Aggie’s arms wrapped around her. “Oh,” Aunt Aggie said, “we’ll have to work on you!”
“Wow,” Hannah said, looking at Aunt Aggie and me. “You two could be sisters.”
“I know!” Aunt Aggie said. “Can you believe it? And I’m not even really her aunt.”
“You aren’t?” Frankie asked.
“No. I am her mom’s cousin. I guess that would make me your second aunt, or second cousin. Oh, who knows and who cares. Family is family.”
She looked at my friends. “Let me guess. You’re Charlotte,” she said first. “And you’re Darbie.” She nudged Darb with her elbow. “I’ve been warned about you. But I’ve completely stocked the house with M&M’s and separated all the colors for you.”
“I like you already,” Darbie said happily.
“And you’re Hannah. And the Rusamano twins. Hmm, I expected you to look more alike. Are you sure one of you wasn’t switched at birth?”
“Everyone says that,” Tony said, then whispered to Aggie, “I look more like my parents. Just sayin’.”
“Well, I won’t have any trouble keeping you straight. You’re Tony, and you’re Frankie.” She was right on the first guess. “I received quite an amazing package from your mom this morning.
“How did she get it here so fast?” I asked.
“She’s a woman of many talents,” Frankie said. “Moving food from one place to another is an easy one for her.”
“Now I don’t have to cook all weekend, which is great because I want to show you so so so many things, and I want to tell you all about Salem. But the way you look—it simply won’t do.”
* * *
An hour later we were outfitted to fit in with Salem Halloween culture. Frankie and Tony were pirate ghosts, Darbie was a pilgrim ghost, Hannah was a zombie, I was a ghostly clown, and Charlotte was a devil.
Aunt Aggie studied us outside the costume store. “Much better. Now, where should we start?”
“Well,” I began “there is something that we—”
“I know!” Aunt Aggie exclaimed.
31
Mac
As anxious as I was to get to the Salem cemetery, how could we say no to ice cream? And, frankly, I was a little nervous about what Darbie would do to me if I said no to ice cream.
“I don’t eat ice cream myself,” Aggie said after we’d loaded into a minivan that comfortably fit seven people with luggage, although we had to tie Darbie’s suitcase to the roof. “But there’s a place I’ve driven past that maybe you’ll like.” She pointed out a few sites, including the Witch Trials Memorial and the Ropes Mansion.
Aunt Aggie slowed down and pointed out a large, dark house with a few chimneys. “There’s the famous House of the Seven Gables. It has a closet with a false back that leads to a secret staircase just like in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s famous novel.” A second later she announced, “Here we are. The Frosty Cow.” It was two stores down from Count Orlok’s Nightmare Gallery. When Frankie saw it, he said, “I totally want to go there. I heard that during October the monsters in the museum come to life.”
“Monsters?” Charlotte asked. “I’ll pass.”
“I’ll stick with the Frosty Cow,” Darbie said. “I never met ice cream I didn’t like.”
Aunt Aggie dropped us off at the door. “I’m going to fill up with gas, and I’ll be there in a minute.”
We were the only customers in the Frosty Cow. There was a worker, dressed like Freddy Krueger, who sat behind the counter flipping through a lacrosse magazine.
“You play?” Frankie asked him. I swear, he could talk with anyone.
“Yup. You?”
Frankie nodded and held up a fist to bump like the two were now on the same team.
“The name’s Mac,” he said. “What can I get you?”
“Why does your name tag say it’s Evan?” Darbie asked.
“It is, but everyone calls me by my middle name because my dad is Evan also, and it gets confusing.”
“Gotcha, Mac,” Darbie said. “Can I taste a flavor or two before I commit?”
“Sure. That’s what these tiny spoons are for.”
“Great. Can I try strawberry, mint chocolate chip, banana peanut butter, French vanilla, butter pecan, cookie crunch—”
Mac scooped tiny spoons of each flavor before she even had the names out of her mouth.
“Rum raisin, oatmeal, moose tracks—”
“Darb,” I said. “Why don’t you start with those?”
“Fine.”
Darbie licked nearly every spoon clean. Mac asked, “So, what will it be?”
“I’ll have strawberry and French vanilla blended with cookie bites, brownie bites, Twizzler bits, and Skittles, with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry on top. I call it the Rocket Launching Rainbow Super Swirley.”
“Well, it sounds great, except we don’t have half of those toppings.”
“What?!” Darbie was shocked and appalled by the announcement. “What don’t you have?”
“The Twizzler bits and Skittles. And we ran out of the brownie bites.”
Tony said to Darbie, “Just get that other stuff on top and let someone else order.”
“No way.” She looked at Mac. “I’m about to make your day!”
“Oh really?”
Aunt Aggie pulled up out front and looked like she was talking on the phone.
“Tony?” Darbie asked. “Do you think you can get my suitcase from the van?”
“If you’ll leave this guy alone so he can take care of us other paying customers?”
“Deal.”
Tony left.
Frankie placed his order for vanilla ice cream with whipped cream and examined the cup when Mac handed it over. “Kind of boring, huh?” Frankie asked.
Mac shrugged. “I don’t care what you order. I just work here.”
Tony came in with the big rolling bag and handed it to Darbie.
She rolled it behind the counter. “Buckle up,” she said. “I’m about to rock your world.”
Mac asked the boys, “Should I be worried?”
“I think you probably should let her go. Stopping her could be hazardous to your health,” Frankie said.
“All right.” Then he asked Tony, “What can I get you?”
Tony asked Frankie about his. “How’s that?”
“Eh.”
“I guess I’ll have that,” Tony said, indicating Frankie’s boring cup.
Darbie made a racket, taking things out of her case and firing up the blender.
“Kell? Hannah-Hasselhoff-Hideaway? I need some backup here,” Darbie called to us.
She put me in charge of the ice cream’s “presentation,” so I inventoried the available sundae glasses, bowls, and stemware and picked just the right ones. I set them on plates that I’d lined with paper doilies. Meanwhile, she sent Hannah to scoop the flavors she needed.
“What should I do?” Charlotte asked, looking unsure if she should join us behind the counter.
“You can just hang out,” Darbie said. “I think it’s under control.”
“How about if I write down the names of the dishes? Like signs. I can write bubble letters, or block or calligraphy. . . .”
“Um,” Darbie said. “Okay. That’s a good idea.”
Mac made himself a bowl of ice cream and sat with Frankie and Tony at a table with a good view of our work. They chatted about sports, Delaware, the train, lasagna, and Turd Wars, and watched us.
A few minutes later Darbie loaded seven tall parfait glasses layered with colors and combos of toppings onto a tray and brought it over to the table.
“Taste test time,” I said.
“My favorite time!” Darbie said.
“Okay. What have we got?” Hannah asked, laying a bunch of tall spoons on the table.
Darbie provided a description of each layered concoction. “
This is pumpkin and cinnamon ice cream with crushed graham crackers, a layer of mini marshmallows, and caramel drizzle.”
Charlotte put a paper down next to it, written on in colorful pencils that she’d found. She said, “It’s called Autumn Harvest.”
Darbie looked closely at Autumn Harvest and asked, “What’s that dust?”
“I might have sprinkled the tiniest dab of nutmeg,” I said.
“Because you just happen to have nutmeg in your pocket?” Mac asked.
Hannah pointed out, “Kelly always has a dab of nutmeg in her pocket.”
Darbie described the next few as we slid in our long spoons and tasted each.
At one with varying shades of brown, Mac asked, “What’s this?”
“Different, huh?” Darbie said. “You won’t find that one anywhere else.”
Charlotte put down the sign: DINNER FEAST.
“Ugh.” Frankie made a terrible face and spit his taste out in a napkin. “What’s in it?”
“Beef stick, mashed potatoes, and a layer of brown gravy.”
Everyone who had a spoon headed in that direction pulled it away, except for Mac, who dove in. “I love it,” he said. “And I appreciate a girl who loves weird ice cream!”
Darbie beamed with delight.
When Mac finished Dinner Feast, he said, “I have to say, I’ve never met anyone with a suitcase like that before. You’re very prepared.”
Darbie had one spoon in her mouth and another dipped into Peanut Twist. “Thanks. No one’s ever said that to me before. Some people”—she shot a look at Frankie and Tony—“don’t appreciate me.”
“So what are you planning to do while you’re in Salem?” Mac asked.
“You know,” I said. “Halloweeny touristy stuff.”
“Just for the record,” Charlotte said. “I’m not doing the monster thing.”
“Understood,” I said.
Mac looked at Charlotte and then Frankie and Tony for an explanation. They both rolled their eyes.
Charlotte said, “I saw that, Tony Rusamano.”
Darbie answered Mac’s question. “We’re gonna look at tombs.”
Hannah said, “It sounds creepier than it is.”
“Tombs aren’t creepy by Salem standards,” Mac said.
Potion Problems Page 9
