A Fall for Friendship

by Megan Atwood

  Ms. Shirvani’s voice carried over toward them: “Where is the hay that was here? When I fell, I fell into some hay! What happened?”

  Sheriff Hadley groaned, and Hakeem yelled, “We need to call an ambulance!”

  Olive caught eyes with Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter. A few moments later, as people bustled around her and they heard a siren approaching, Olive heard someone say, “It looks like he was pushed.” Another person Olive couldn’t see said, “Yeah, I saw that too. It was like something knocked him over.”

  And then a voice replied, “But he was up there alone.”

  The sound of the siren filled the barn as the ambulance pulled up to carry Sheriff Hadley to the hospital.

  CHAPTER 6

  A Plan

  It totally looked like he was pushed off somehow,” Peter said, grabbing another piece of French toast. “A lot of people said that.” He looked at Olive like he expected her to challenge him.

  She didn’t say anything. She hadn’t really said anything to him all morning. Part of it was because she felt bad about saying what she had at the picnic table yesterday; but also, she’d started to get mad. Mad that she was the one who made sense and they were the ones who didn’t, but still somehow, she was made to feel like the jerk. It didn’t seem fair. She put a piece of the French toast on her plate and poured syrup on it. A little dribbled on her hand and she licked it off.

  Her dad David said, “Hmm. That sounds scary. Is the sheriff all right?”

  Peter said, “Sarah’s going to call us with an update. But he was talking when the ambulance took him away, so I don’t think it’s super-serious.”

  As if Peter had summoned the call, their cell phone (Peter and Olive shared one) rang in the living room. Everyone in the dining room looked at John. It was against the rules, big-time, to answer the phone during any meal. And breakfast on a Sunday morning was pretty sacred in their household. But John nodded, and Peter sprinted to get the call.

  He looked at the phone and answered, “Hey, Sarah. What’s up?” He said, “Uh-huh. Yeah. Okay. Good. Yeah. In a bit.” Then he glanced at Olive. “Yeah, she’ll probably want to. Even though we’re dumb . . . See you in a bit!” He put the phone in his pocket and came back to the table. He sat down and took a big bite of his French toast.

  Olive fumed. She knew what Sarah had said. But she hadn’t even said they were dumb! Just that she thought they were smarter than believing in things that didn’t exist . . . She stared at Peter and then said finally, “Well?”

  Peter said around the bite of French toast, “Sheriff Hadley broke his arm, but he’s okay. Sarah asked him if it felt like he was pushed and he said he didn’t really remember. But because of all the accidents that’ve been happening, everyone’s taking a break from the barn.” He finished chewing and swallowed.

  Their dad John gave him a look—not speaking with a full mouth was another mealtime rule. Peter smiled sheepishly and said, “Sorry. This breakfast is good. Anyway, Sarah and Lizzie want to meet up and go talk to townspeople today. Can Olive and I go? I mean, if Olive wants to.” He took another big bite.

  Of course she wanted to go. They were her friends.

  She’d thought.

  She took a big bite of her own French toast to hide her hurt. Just because she had a different opinion didn’t mean she should be excluded from things. Maybe she shouldn’t have said what she did . . . but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still their friend.

  “I might not go,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. She felt a sharp look from Peter as if it were physical, but she didn’t look at him. She kept chewing.

  David said, “Is something wrong?”

  She shrugged. “No.”

  Everyone at the table was silent for a minute, and then Peter spoke. “Whatever. I’m going to go.”

  Olive chewed for a while and then took a drink of her juice. Staying at home would be . . . hard. Harder than going. “I guess I’ll go too,” she said.

  “Whatever,” Peter said. He got up and put his plate in the sink, not meeting eyes with Olive. She could feel her dads’ eyes on her and Peter—it wasn’t like them to fight.

  To stave off any questions, she put her plate in the sink too and said, “Fine. Let’s go.”

  • • •

  Peter and Olive walked fast to Annabelle’s Antiques, where they were meeting Lizzie and Sarah. They walked fast because Peter was walking fast, and Olive had to hurry to keep up. He was definitely mad. But that was fine: SHE was mad too. When they reached the store, Lizzie and Sarah came walking around the corner of the building, waving.

  Olive realized that she hadn’t asked what they were doing. She also realized that everyone seemed nervous. She knew she did. She was having a hard time looking them in the eyes.

  She cleared her throat and said, “What are we doing?”

  Sarah, not looking at her, said, “We’re investigating to see if the Verity story is true. Since SOME of us are so smart and skeptical.”

  Olive rolled her eyes. Anger burned in her. She mumbled, “It IS smart to be skeptical. . . .”

  Lizzie squeaked, “We could find something that tells us about Verity. Or not! Either way, it will be fun because we’re together.” But her face looked strained, and now Olive did feel bad. Lizzie didn’t look like she was having fun at all. Olive knew Lizzie hated it when people fought. She thought about how much she liked Lizzie and didn’t want her to feel bad.

  She took a deep breath. “Okay. That sounds like fun. We might find out something about the story. . . .”

  Sarah shifted. “Well, we thought you made a good point yesterday. About Gloria knowing the story when it was supposedly never told before . . .”

  Olive cleared her throat and pushed up her glasses. She nodded and tried not to look like she’d told them so.

  Sarah rolled her eyes a little, so Olive figured she hadn’t quite kept the “I told you so” look off her face. But Sarah went on, “So we thought we’d ask some of the townspeople if they’ve heard of this story. We thought that might be the smart thing to do.”

  Olive said, her voice low, “I shouldn’t have said that. I think you’re all smart.” She went on quickly so no one could say anything. “Did Gloria say how she heard the story? Won’t she just tell you?”

  Lizzie shrugged. “No way. I can barely get her to look at me when I’m in the same room with her.” She smiled sheepishly. Olive didn’t know what that was like, having an older sibling. It sounded like it was complicated. Then again, having a twin felt complicated today too. Same with having friends.

  “Okay, let’s start with Annabelle!” Sarah said. Olive breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe their fight was behind them.

  Sarah turned around and walked into the store. Lizzie and Peter followed. Olive could feel herself tensing. She didn’t know exactly why, but she hoped Annabelle didn’t know anything about the story. She shook off the feeling of being a bad friend and followed her crew into the store. She’d already said one fairly bad thing to them. She had to remember what Peter had said: sometimes there were other things to worry about than just being right.

  CHAPTER 7

  Deeds Aren’t Proof

  Annabelle bustled between the shelves, picking up dusty book after dusty book. Her Victorian skirts brushed the floor and she muttered to herself. Olive stayed far back—it seemed like Annabelle was possessed. When they’d asked her if she’d ever heard of Verity Wentworth, her eyes had gotten wide. “No,” she’d said. “But if she exists, I shall find her.”

  Twenty minutes later, Peter, Olive, Lizzie, and Sarah stared as Annabelle took down almost every antique book and thumbed through each one carefully. “In a year or two, I’ll be donating these books to a library, where they can keep them temperature-controlled. But I just haven’t been able to make myself do it yet.”

  Finally, Annabelle took a seat on an antique settee. She fanned herself. “It appears my books don’t reach into the past quite that far. I could have sworn I had a town char
ter. . . . But then again, New Amity was made up of many different small towns and farms back then, so a town charter was nary a glimmer in anyone’s eye.” She took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her temples. “My, that search was quite the calisthenics session.”

  Olive had to stifle a giggle. But she had to admit, Annabelle did look really hot in all those layers.

  Sarah said, “Do you have any other ideas about where we can look?”

  Annabelle smiled. “Why, I’d ask your dear mother, Sarah. She is the town librarian, after all. And a fine historian as well.”

  Olive looked at Sarah. “She’s a historian, too?”

  Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. I only know I have to help her shelve things. Okay, we’ll check with her later. Come on, guys.” She waved her hand at them and they all followed her.

  “Where to next?” Peter asked.

  No one spoke for a second. Sarah took a breath like she was going to say something, but Lizzie jumped in. “I say we try for the mayor. Let’s talk to Dani.”

  Sarah looked surprised but then said, “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

  Olive liked that idea too. “Let’s do that,” she said. She hoped Mayor Alvarez would back her up. The four of them walked along Main Street, seeing Hakeem and Stella chatting outside the hardware store. They saw Rachel and Aaron with a stroller walking across the street. Everyone waved at them as they passed. Noa from the grocery store, Faiyaz, Mariko and Aldo . . . they all said hi or waved. Olive still couldn’t believe how nice everyone in this town was. At the end of Main Street sat the town hall. Every Sunday morning there was a Community Spirit service there. Sometimes Olive and Peter and their dads went, but sometimes they just ate French toast. Today had been a French toast day.

  “Would Dani still be here?” Olive asked. It was already one thirty, past the time of the service.

  “Oh, yeah. She and Kate stay to clean up,” Lizzie said.

  When they reached the building, they heard singing, and they opened the doors. Kate and Dani were dancing and laughing together, Dani belting out a tune. Lizzie blushed and giggled. Peter laughed too, and Sarah practically fell over laughing. Olive stifled her chuckle.

  Dani stopped singing when the door opened, but instead of looking embarrassed, she looked delighted. “Sarah! Lizzie! Peter and Olive!” she said, kissing Kate on the cheek and then dropping her hands. “Come on in! What can we help you with?”

  Olive couldn’t help but return the mayor’s infectious smile. She decided she wanted to do the talking here. Even though Sarah had said she’d had a good point, Olive wasn’t sure Sarah would be totally objective if she asked the questions. Olive said, “We’re looking for information on someone who probably didn’t live here long ago. Verity Wentworth—do you know anyone by that name who was here in the earlier days of this town?”

  She could feel Peter’s eyes on her, but she ignored him.

  Dani pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “That name doesn’t sound familiar. . . . But I keep some old documents in my office upstairs. Any reason why you’re looking for this woman? A woman who probably didn’t live here?” Her mouth twitched in a tiny smile.

  Olive said, “They think she’s a ghost,” at the same time that Peter said, “No reason.”

  One look at Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter told Olive she’d just made another error. This time she didn’t really understand—it was the truth! But still, she was already in trouble with them. She swallowed. “No reason,” she said.

  Dani waved them over. “Come on up!” She started up the stairs, and the group followed her. Kate called up, “There are cookies downstairs when you’re through!”

  The four of them crowded into Dani’s office as she took out a black box. She unlocked it, and Olive saw a whole bunch of papers sitting in it. “Here are some photocopies I took a long time ago with some of our town votes. Let me see if we have anything that has her name. Around what time period?”

  Lizzie looked at Sarah. They both shrugged. Peter said, “Around the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century.”

  Olive knew he loved these sorts of things. When they’d first moved to New Amity, Peter had pretty much memorized everything about the history of the town. And his memory was always spot-on. She felt a familiar wave of pride go through her.

  “Okay . . . ,” Dani murmured. She sifted through the papers and then stopped at one. She leaned down and squinted. Then she handed the paper to Sarah. “Can you read that?”

  Sarah squinted at it too. “It looks like . . . ‘w-e-n-t-w-a’ . . . but then it’s cut off.”

  Lizzie leaned in. “That could be an ‘o.’ So it is ‘w-e-n-t-w-o’ . . .”

  Peter nodded. “That could definitely be ‘Wentworth.’ What is this, Mayor Alvarez?”

  Dani said, “It’s a vote about becoming a town and naming it New Amity. This is in the early eighteen hundreds. Right around the time the town became a town. And please call me Dani.” She smiled at them all.

  Olive leaned in and looked at the paper. The name they were talking about was written in ornate script. It was hard to read, and it had indeed gotten cut off. In fact, most of the names were hard to read.

  “Wait! What’s that?” Peter pointed to a paper sitting on Dani’s desk. He leaned in and said, “This is some sort of deed for a Baron von Steuben.” He stood straight up and said, “BARON VON STEUBEN.”

  Dani looked confused. Lizzie, Sarah, and Peter all said, “Whooooaaaa,” at the same time. And Olive had to admit she got goose bumps.

  But that didn’t prove anything.

  “That doesn’t prove anything,” she said, trying to make her voice sound not-defensive.

  Sarah looked at her and smiled. “But you have to admit, it gets us closer!”

  Dani looked from Sarah to Olive to Peter to Lizzie, all with a smile on her face. She said, “Who is Baron von Steuben?”

  Olive huffed out. “He’s part of this story that they all want to believe about a ghost. But I know it’s not true. Because ghosts don’t exist. That deed doesn’t prove anything.” She looked at Dani.

  And then Dani said, “Well, we don’t know everything, do we? Who knows? Maybe keeping an open mind about this might be fun?” She winked at Olive.

  Olive didn’t have to look at Peter to know he was smiling. And she wouldn’t look at the rest of them.

  Now even grown-ups were being dumb. Olive sat down and crossed her arms over her chest.

  CHAPTER 8

  Accidents Waiting to Happen

  All the way back to the Garrison Orchard, Olive was quiet. She felt like crying again and she just didn’t understand why. She could feel Peter’s eyes on her, but she kept looking at the ground, letting everyone else talk.

  Finally, right at the end of the Garrisons’ driveway, Sarah stopped short. “Okay, Olive, what is going on? Are you mad at us?”

  Olive looked up in surprise and pushed her glasses up on her nose. She thought for a minute. She was mad at them. REALLY mad. But she had no idea why.

  She took a deep breath and tried to put it into words. “It’s just . . . why . . . how . . . I don’t get why you guys want to believe in this baby stuff,” she finally said.

  Peter said, “Olive, why do you have to be so mean about this?” His voice was frustrated, which hardly ever happened.

  Olive looked out. “I don’t know!” she said, her voice getting louder. “Why do you like this stuff?”

  “I thought you liked it too,” Lizzie said quietly.

  That stopped Olive. She had liked it. She had loved the idea of a zombie hayride and a haunted barn. She still did. She just felt like the only one who wasn’t crazy. “I just . . . I never thought this stuff was real, I guess.”

  Sarah huffed out. “We don’t know if it is! What does it hurt to try to find out?”

  Olive had no answer for that. What did it hurt? Just as she was about to respond, Peter said, “Uh, Lizzie, why are your horses just standing in the driveway?” At the same time, Sarah said, �
��Is that smoke I smell?”

  They all looked up. Two of the Garrisons’ horses stood in the driveway—which was super-weird. Olive saw smoke in the back field where the pumpkins were. Albert and Tabitha stood in the yard yelling directions to some farmhands, while others rushed to the back field. Sirens wailed, and the four kids jumped out of the way as a fire truck turned into the driveway. Olive glanced at the barn, which stood with sunlight streaming around it. There appeared to be nothing wrong with it at all. But everything else at the Garrisons’ seemed to be caught up in some sort of chaos. As the four of them walked to the house, Olive looked at the wraparound front porch. Tabitha and Albert had now stopped yelling directions and were talking to one of the firefighters at the bottom of the steps. Other firefighters unspooled a long hose.

  As Olive watched, a light on the porch turned on, then burned brightly.

  Then exploded.

  Everyone screamed and ducked.

  Lizzie’s eyes had grown round and alarmed. Olive felt a shiver of fear as she straightened up.

  “What the heck . . . ?” she started.

  Sarah finished, “. . . is going on?”

  Out of nowhere, a voice said near Olive, “It’s Verity. She’s not satisfied with just the barn anymore.”

  Olive jumped so high she almost lost her shoes.

  Gloria walked by them, away from the house, and smiled. It wasn’t a particularly nice smile, but Olive didn’t think too hard about that, because Lizzie ran to her parents and the rest of the group followed.

  They reached Albert and Tabitha, and Lizzie asked, “What is happening?”

  Tabitha enveloped Lizzie in a hug. “It’s okay, doodlebug. We’ve just had a string of accidents. Something happened with the doors to the barn, so the horses got out. And then a fire started in the pumpkin patch. And now this lightbulb just exploded. But we have everything covered.”

  Albert said, “And the barn is fine!” He beamed at them, and Olive smiled back at him. She pushed up her glasses. “How did the fire start?” she asked.