by Jeri Green
“Who do you think you’re fooling, Hadley?” Beanie said. “Onus is your cat. Not your maid.”
“That’s what you think, Beanie. That cat spends more time licking and cleaning than Carter’s got little liver pills.”
“That’s a lotta time,” Beanie observed.
“About as much time as these books are overdue. Lord, have mercy! I hope when I come outta this library the late fees Miz Anna charges me doesn’t mean I own all those books she’s got lined up on all those shelves.”
“Me, too,” said Beanie. “I really am hankering for that strawberry soda. Hankering real bad.”
“Don’t worry,” Hadley said. “We’ll make it to The Creamery, even if I have to take out a loan!”
“But Hadley, it ain’t raining, today. There’s not a cloud in the sky.”
“No, there’s not. Don’t worry. This is not going to be one of those rainy days we have to visit the bank. Miz Anna will take pity on me. I’m sure of it.”
Hadley opened the door and climbed down from the truck. Brinkley’s hinges could use a shot of grease, she thought as she walked up to the library.
“I hope Miz Anna’s not wearing her iron girdle, today,” Hadley muttered to herself.
As she opened the large glass-paneled door, Hadley put on her friendliest smile.
She hoped nothing was stuck in her teeth. On top of all of these overdue books of Harry’s, that would be all she needed.
Chapter Sixteen
“Who have we here?” Anna said.
Anna was a tall, elegant lady whose posture was ram-rod straight. Her flawless skin was the color of café au lait. Her hands were long with slender fingers like a pianist. She was beautiful and feminine, with intelligent brown eyes.
Anna had been in the Air Force, and she ran the Hope Rock County Library like a well-oiled barracks. She had in flown jet tankers over Iraq. She had met her husband, Stanley Spangler, who had also been a pilot but retired from the service eight years ago. It was an easy decision for Anna and Stanley to marry, but for Anna, it meant leaving the military. She and Stanley wanted to be together. Stanley could be stationed anywhere. If Anna stayed in the military, they risked being stationed at other ends of the world.
So, Anna obtained her discharge and went back to school and earned her bachelor’s degree. She and Stanley had two daughters, Amelia and Shelley. Both girls were married. Amelia was living in Washington State with her husband and small son. Shelley was in the Navy.
When Stanley retired, he wanted to find a small, quiet, peaceful community that was 360 degrees different from the large military bases where he had been stationed.
“I’ve seen the world,” he said. “Now, it’s time to find our own little corner of heaven.”
Hope Rock County seemed like a good fit. The small airport, a couple of hangers and one runway was up for sale. Stanley and Anna decided to buy the place. They placed a small mobile home nearby.
Anna got a job in the library and was given the position of librarian when Callah McNally retired. Stanley ran the Hope Rock County airport. Tourists and a few local pilots kept the little runway busy.
Anna and Stanley were happy in Hope Rock County. They immediately began to participate in the local events. Anna was a booster in one of the local elementary school’s parent-teacher groups. Stanley taught ham radio courses at the local community college thirty-two miles away.
They regularly skyped Amelia and her family and kept tabs with Shelley through email and cell phone. The couple recently adopted a small beagle from the pound. They named it Louis, for Charles Lindbergh’s spunky little plane.
Anna never lost the spunk that made her such a good pilot. And it was that same Anna Spangler that Hadley dreaded facing with Harry’s delinquent library books. How they ever got stuffed in the attic was a mystery. And what would the charges be after all these years?
But Hadley had to return them. There were no ifs, buts, or ands about it.
Keeping them would be stealing. And Hadley had too much pride to leave them in a paper bag on the library’s front steps. Besides, they would have records where they’d scanned Harry’s library card. Even after all these years.
So, it was time to face the music and Miz Anna, the librarian of Hope Rock County Library.
“Hello,” Hadley said.
Chapter Seventeen
Hadley sat the books on Anna’s desk with a thud.
“What’s this?” Anna asked.
Hadley felt like a three-year-old whose hand had just been caught in the cookie jar. Maybe it was the fact that the librarian’s desk stood up on a podium-like structure, allowing Anna a good view across the whole library.
Kids could get unruly, sometimes. Especially the boys showing off for their friends. Whatever it was, the fact that the librarian towered over her always made Hadley feel three inches shorter than a grub worm.
“Ah, Anna,” Hadley stammered, “I was cleaning out the attic and ran across these books.”
“Good,” Anna said, opening the bag and stacking the books in two neat rows in front of her.
The librarian immediately began opening the books, checking the cards and the dates rubber-stamped inside them.
“A little overdue, I see,” Anna said, typing some figures quickly on her computer screen.
“Well, um,” Hadley began.
But before she could explain, Anna finished her calculations and turned toward her.
“$437.15,” Anna said.
Hadley Pell literally became Pale Hadley before Anna’s eyes.
“Relax, Hadley,” Anna said, smiling. “I was only kidding. Harry was a wonderful patron of this library. His selections were incredibly varied and always interesting. He and I talked often. Harry was like me. A lifelong learner. Thanks for returning these. I miss your husband, Hadley. I really do.”
“I do, too,” Hadley replied.
“You should visit more often. Harry was always talking about you. I feel I know you almost as well as I got to know him,” Anna said.
Hadley was beaming. Here she was dreading this like a trip to the dentist, but Anna Spangler was so warm and friendly. It was a side of her that Hadley had never seen.
“You know, Anna, I have to admit, before today, I always believed what they said about you.”
“What’s that?” Anna asked. “That I am a wicked witch who guards the keys of this library and runs it like a jail and lends these books like some ugly troll under the bridge?”
“Well, not that exactly,” Hadley said.
“But some version, I’m sure.” .
“I guess so,” said Hadley, suddenly embarrassed that she may have offended Anna.
“Don’t worry. It’s an act I keep up for the kids’ sake. They’d break the computers if they didn’t think I was watching them like a hawk. Budgets being what they are, I have to see that the equipment is taken care of so that it will last as long as possible.
“Do you know how many of the kids would check out a book and never return it if I didn’t act like the warden of Alcatraz? They’d ‘lose’ them in a creek or let the dog eat them or one of a hundred other excuses. And some of the parents are just as bad. Books and learning are not viewed as anything of importance in so many homes, Hadley. Harry and I often talked of this. We shared a love for them. Even in the computer age.”
“I didn’t know,” Hadley said. “I’m glad you told me. I was doing some cleaning. I found them in the attic. I don’t know how they got up there. Maury probably stored them there when she was helping me after Harry died.”
“Your fees are forgiven,” Anna said.
“Thanks, Anna.”
“But there is one thing you might do for me,” Anna said.
“Name it. You’ve just saved me a bundle,” said Hadley.
“Sometime when you’re nearby, drop off some of your homemade doughnuts. Sheriff Bill is always saying how good they are.”
“I will,” Hadley said. “I will be glad to. And I’ll throw in
a thermos of coffee, too.”
Hadley left, walking out like the weight of the world had been suddenly lifted from her shoulders.
Chapter Eighteen
“Beanie,” Hadley said, getting into the truck, “is that chocolate smeared all over your face?”
Beanie quickly wiped his face with his sleeve.
“Brinkley’s stash is minus one candy bar, isn’t it?” Hadley asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Beanie said. “You were gone so long, Hadley. I just knew you were buying all those books. I went in there once. I know how many books is in that place. A gazillion tramillion. I figured I might as well not starve to death while I waited. I’m sorry, Hadley. I’ll buy Brinkley another one.”
“Don’t worry about it, Bean,” Hadley said. She laughed. “I can’t be mad when Miz Anna just pardoned me from paying off all those late fees.”
“You got out of jail?” Beanie asked.
“I might as well have. She forgave the late fees. I didn’t have to buy the library, Beanie, but it was close. She really had me going. But Anna is a good cookie.”
“Hadley,” Beanie said, “I’d a rather had a cookie. Brinkley’s candy bar had coconuts in it. I don’t think I like coconuts too good.”
“Beanie,” Hadley said, “Butterfingers don’t have coconut in them. I’ll bet that thing was full of worms!”
“Well, that’s good to know,” Beanie said. “I always thought I liked coconuts, but after that candy bar, I was having my doubts. It made me feel bad, you know, not liking coconuts no more. But, I feel better knowing those weren’t coconuts. I’m so glad I can say I still like coconuts.”
“Beanie,” Hadley said, “that’s what I love about you. You always see the glass half full.”
“Half full of ice cream and soda?”
“No. We’re going to get a full glass of that. You sure you feel all right after that candy bar?”
“As right as rain,” said Beanie.
Hadley cranked the old truck and headed for The Creamery.
Chapter Nineteen
A few months earlier.
“Antique tractors are bringing record prices,” Eustian said. “I been biding my time, waiting, and now is the time to sell. I’ve got a rare beaut! I’ve had it stored in my barn for years. Picked that little baby up for a song forty years ago. One just like mine sold for 6 figures! 6 figures! I ain’t lyin.’”
“What you need me for, Mr. Singlepenny?” Sandy Miller said.
“Got a few parts I need fabricated. Been restoring that gem a little along, through the years. Some things I just can’t do. With the market so hot right now, I figure it’s worth going ahead and finishing it. Neither me nor that tractor is getting’ any younger.”
“I know what you’re saying, Mr. Singlepenny,” Sandy said.
You’re the best, Miller. I seen some of your work.”
“I’ll come over and look it,” said Sandy. “Give you an estimate. You decide whether or not you want me to do the job.”
“Fair ’nough,” said Eustian. “I know you’re good Sandy. There’s an art to metal working. Even I know that. I hate to part with the money I know you’re gonna charge, but in the end, you’re an artist. If I want to get top dollar for her, I’m gonna have to shell out some dough. You come by, and I’ll show you what I need. Come next Tuesday ’bout two o’clock.”
Sandy was hired.
As he drove away from the Singlepenny place that Tuesday afternoon, Sandy Miller had an uneasy feeling that he’d stood at the crossroads with the devil. The young man surely hoped that he would not live to regret accepting this job. He smiled wryly. When all was said and done, he hoped he wouldn’t get burned.
Sandy Miller was well known throughout the county. Anyone whoever did business with Sandy would be hard-pressed to find a more honest and trustworthy fellow. Sandy owned a small metal shop. He had one employee, his younger brother, Gunn, but together, the two had slowly earned a reputation for quality work at fair prices.
Sandy never married. He had always been too busy making an honest buck, but in the last year, he’d struck up a nice friendship with Rayna Croft.
Rayna ran Croft’s Orchards, along with her son, Richie. It had been a touch and go for many orchards in the county. Late frosts had wiped out the crops. Sandy knew all the farmers in the area. He even helped some of them by doing odd jobs through the years.
Rayna and Richie had hired him and Gunn several times. That’s how Sandy had gotten to know her. This year’s yield promised to be record breaking. Finally, it looked like fortune had smiled on the orchard growers of Hope Rock County.
The western end of Croft’s Orchards abutted Eustian’s property line. Eustian was always causing trouble for the Crofts, so when Sandy told her that Singlepenny had contacted him about some work, Rayna was leery.
“Watch yourself, Sandy,” Rayna said. “Think long and hard before you decide to have any dealings with that old devil.”
“I know Eustian Singlepenny leaves a bad taste in your mouth, Rayna. I understand.”
Nobody could understand, Rayna thought.
“You’re a saint for putting up with his shenanigans all these years. Frankly, I don’t know how you’ve managed it.”
“I have this crazy habit, Sandy,” Rayna said. “I just can’t seem to break it. I like to eat.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Sandy said. “That’s the reason I’m probably gonna have to do the job for him. I know Eustian is a boil on the bottom of the world, but he’s a customer. His money is as good as anybody else’s, and I’m in business to make money. I went over to his place. He hired me to make some parts for him. I’m gonna start tomorrow.”
“So,” Rayna said, “you were the unlucky one who got to cross the Singlepenny threshold after all these years. I bet it’s been a coon’s age since anybody set foot in that place. They say his mama had a few visitors out there, but she’s been dead for ages. Nobody’s been inside the house since she passed. Who would? I mean he has more No Trespassing signs nailed up on the porch than cod liver oil has stink.”
“No, I didn’t go inside Eustian’s house either, Rayna,” said Sandy. “He was waiting for me in the yard when I drove up. Directed me to the barn where he keeps his old tractor.”
“Oh,” Sandy said.
“Eustian’s a queer bird. He said he wanted me to come out, give him a price, take the busted parts I’m gonna restore, and leave.”
“Well,” said Rayna, “that sounded like a neighborly visit.”
“Well, there’s no law that says I had to go inside his house to do business with the man, Rayna. He probably didn’t invite me in because then he would have felt obliged to offer me something to drink or something.”
“Just be careful,” said Rayna. “Dot you i’s and cross your t’s with that man. Get it all down in writing and make him sign it.”
“Oh, don’t you fret none,” Sandy said. “I will. I will.”
Chapter Twenty
“Hey, Sandy,” Ruth said. “Heard about Eustian spreading dirt on you. That old coot’s a trip. You must be pretty upset. That man is talking all over town about how you took stuff out of his barn.”
“Yeah,” Sandy said. “Eustian’s got a mouth on him that goes nonstop.”
“And what he spreads is ugly and rotten like diarrhea,” Ruth said.
“Well,” Sandy said, “I never heard it put quite like that before, but I really don’t think that man’s ever had a sunny day in his life. He likes nothing better than to bad mouth everything and everybody. I’ve had a couple guys come into the shop telling me some of the stuff he’s saying. He’s got a great imagination, if nothing else.”
“Yeah,” said Ruth, “and it lives in the sewer. Nobody thinks you took anything from him, Sandy. Eustian just loves throwing rotten apples at everybody.”
Sandy was at his table at the Saturday flea market. The metal shop took up a lot of his time, but in his spare time, he made and plated jewelry and coins. He was a regular
at the weekly flea market held in the parking lot of Pixie-Squares.
Ruth sat down in the empty chair next to him.
“You know,” Ruth said, “I’ve been wondering if a small shop set up in the John James’ old photography studio building wouldn’t be a good way to advertise the work of the wildlife shelter.”
“What do you mean? Hey, Richie. Where’s your mom?” Sandy said.
“She’s over there haggling with Jewel over some tomato plants,” said Richie.
Rayna walked up behind Richie.
“I heard that. How many times have I told you, son,” Rayna said, “I don’t haggle. I bargain.”
“I’m going over to check out some tools I see over there,” said Richie.
“I hitched a ride with Richie, this morning,” Rayna said. “He’s totally under-whelmed that he is here with mama. I like to come near the end. You can get your best deals that way. Richie likes to come in the morning. He’s pouting, I guess. Says all the good stuff is gone, by now. ”
“Poor baby,” Ruth said. “He’ll get over it.”
They all laughed.
“What do you have in mind,” Sandy said, after Rayna left.
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s still in the planning stages. But you know since John closed down his studio, his little building has just stood vacant. You know I run the shelter on a shoe-string budget and donations. If it wasn’t for the volunteers, I couldn’t operate. I’m so thankful for the help everyone gives.
“If John would agree, I’d like to set up something that would advertise the shelter. You know, try to get the word out to even more people. I’d like to set it up on a permanent basis, but we’ll have to see. At first, I’d thought of a little shop, but that idea would involve capital.
“But lately, I’ve been toying with the idea of setting up a space that showcases the artisans and craftsmen of the area. We have so many skilled people, like yourself, who make so many wonderful things. Like your crafts. There is such a large pool of talent, here.
