As one workman walked over and whispered something to Mr. Shegstad, the other workman pried up the old gravestones and put them both in the back of the truck.
“Poppo,” Trina said quietly, getting up from the stoop. “We can’t let Annie go like this. Not alone. Goldenrod needs to know I’m going with her.”
For once the look her dad gave her didn’t question what she was thinking. He pulled her into the warmest, tightest hug and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Whatever you need, Princess.”
As the sun began to light up the East Garden, the truck revved its engine. “Tell the men we’re coming with them,” Trina said as she ran up the stairs to her room.
“I’ll be in the truck,” he said.
“Augustine,” she called. She wanted Augustine to go with her. “Augustine, wake up.”
Augustine didn’t answer. Trina peered into the bedroom of the dollhouse and waited a few moments for the sun to touch Augustine’s cheek and wake her.
“Augustine? Augustine, Annie and Toby are to be buried in the cemetery today, and I want you to come with me to say good-bye to them.”
Augustine sat up in bed, a thin ray of light glowing around her head like a halo. “Tell me, Citrine, what is a cemetery?”
Sometimes Augustine was like a grown-up, but sometimes she was like a child. This time she was like a child and it was hard to explain things to her in a way she could understand. “It’s a place to keep people after they have died.”
“Died. I remember, you told me this word. Died is when people become pictures and stories, is that true?”
“Yes,” Trina nodded. She had found the right words to explain after all. “When they have become pictures and stories.”
“Will Annie be safe there? Will this be her happily-ever-after place?”
“Oh, yes,” said Trina. “Annie will finally be with her mother and father. And Toby too.”
Augustine pushed back the covers and stretched out her porcelain arms. “I am happy for Annie, but I believe I shall wait for you here. I have vowed to my mother and father I will stay by their sides so that we will not be separated again.”
Trina was desperate to find a way to change Augustine’s mind when one of the workmen leaned on his horn. Both she and Augustine jumped.
“What kind of animal makes that dreadful noise?” Augustine said, pulling up her quilt so that only her eyes showed.
“It’s not an animal; it’s a truck horn, Augustine. It means I have to go.” Trina didn’t mean to sound frustrated with the little doll, but she was in a hurry. “Right now.”
As Trina ran from her room, she heard Augustine’s little voice say, “Take her with you.”
Take her with you? Trina raced down the stairs with no idea what the little doll meant. She wanted to take Augustine with her, but Augustine hadn’t wanted to go. As Trina headed for the front door, the wind whistled through the bay window like a wail of sorrow that made Trina put her hand to her heart and stop running. Suddenly, Trina sensed the dusty old lady standing there, but this time there were tears in her eyes. “I know, Goldenrod,” she said out loud. “I know you’ll miss her. So will I. But Annie will be happy, and that will make us happy too. And she will always belong to Goldenrod.”
And then Trina understood what Augustine had meant.
Trina hurried out the front door and into the yard, where she gathered an armful of the tall yellow goldenrod, roots and all. “A part of you is coming with me and will stay with Annie,” she said out loud to the house, and then she climbed into her dad’s truck.
The sheriff’s car led the way through the cornfields under a blue sky with hazy clouds. The hearse followed the sheriff’s car and the workmen’s truck followed the hearse. Trina and her dad brought up the rear for the somber six-point-four-mile drive into town. They didn’t talk, but her dad glanced in her direction and seemed to understand why she was holding the bouquet of goldenrod.
By the time they got to New Royal, the sun was well up and the town was wide awake, waiting as the modest funeral procession passed the population sign and rolled into town. It seemed the little town expected them. Of course it did. Mr. Shegstad probably told Miss Kitty about the burial and then word would have spread to each and every one of the 397 citizens.
For once Trina was glad New Royal didn’t mind its own business. She was happy that the townspeople were paying their respects to Annie. But Trina had never seen so many of the New Royal residents out and about. Some stood and watched. Some waved, while others bowed their heads at the solemn parade.
Mr. Kinghorn was standing on the library steps and nodded at Trina. She nodded back. She saw people streaming out of Miss Kitty’s diner to watch. Even Mr. Hank stopped unloading his truck in front of Millie’s Grocery Store and tipped his head.
They drove single-file up the hill toward the school but then made a sharp left turn into the drive to the New Royal Cemetery. Mr. Shegstad got out of the sheriff’s car and unlocked the gate. He motioned the sheriff, the hearse, and the big truck to continue inside the cemetery, but he held up his hand for Trina’s dad to stop, pointing at a place to park just outside the cemetery’s gate. Then another car parked behind them. And another. When Trina got out of the truck and looked down the hill toward town, she could see dozens of people heading for the cemetery on foot, on bikes, and in cars. Halfway down the hill she spotted Miss Kitty, Miss Dale, and Charlotte walking together. Edward was riding his bike in zig-zags, occasionally circling the threesome as they came up the hill.
“Oh my,” Mr. Shegstad murmured at the growing crowd.
Trina and her dad followed Mr. Shegstad across the immaculate green lawn of the cemetery to two deep rectangles perfectly cut into the ground, one small and one slightly smaller, next to a large monument of pink granite. The monument said nothing but ROY in big block letters, but below the family name, engraved in the pink stone, was a single sprig of goldenrod. Just like the sprig in the album.
The workmen were quick with their task, and soon Annie and Toby were buried, but poor Mr. Shegstad was flustered by all the activity. As the crowd gathered, he showed everyone where to stand around the big monument, but then it was clear he didn’t know what to do next. “I didn’t expect this. I’m not prepared,” he muttered so low that only Trina could hear him.
“Isn’t there a minister?” Trina asked.
“No,” Mr. Shegstad said. And then, “Yes.” And then, “I mean, he travels town to town. He won’t be here until tomorrow. Do you think you could say something?”
“Me?”
Mr. Shegstad nodded.
Without even thinking, Trina climbed up and stood on the big granite base of the Roy monument, holding tight to the bouquet of goldenrod. But one look at the big crowd made Trina tremble with stage fright. If only she had Augustine in her pocket, maybe she could do it.
Trina was about to step down when a hush fell over the cemetery. Then she spotted Mr. Kinghorn. And Prissy Missy was standing there with an older couple—probably her mom and dad. Miss Lincoln and Mr. Bert, the school custodian, were in the crowd too. And of course, Miss Dale and Miss Kitty. They were all counting on her. If she didn’t speak, who would? Nobody knew Annie and Goldenrod the way she did.
Trina took off her baseball hat, trying to think about Annie Roy instead of the few hundred strangers staring at her. In the biggest voice she had, she said, “Thank you all for coming. It means a lot to . . .” Goldenrod was what she wanted to say, but as she looked into the faces of the townspeople, old and young, she knew they wouldn’t understand. “I’m sure it means a lot to the Roy family. Annie was the beloved daughter of the Roys. Now they are finally a whole family again.” And then she didn’t know what to say next. Nothing came to mind except the truth. The truth. The thought of telling the truth made her stand up straight and tall.
“I know for a long time people have been afraid of Goldenrod. But I think they were afraid because they didn’t understand. I was scared at first, too. But my
dad will tell you there’s no such thing as a haunted house.” The silent hush turned into murmurs and whispers. Trina looked for her dad and caught his eye. Just as she had hoped, his wink gave her all the confidence she needed to continue. “And he’s right. Goldenrod isn’t haunted. At least not anymore. Not now that Annie is buried here in the cemetery where she belongs. Goldenrod is just a big old empty house.” Trina paused. She knew this moment, standing in front of the whole town, was her one and only chance. “She isn’t done yet, but it would really make her happy, I mean us, happy, if you all come to the party next Saturday night so you can see for yourselves how beautiful Goldenrod really is.”
Then Trina knelt down at the base of the monument, dug a hole with her hands, and buried the roots of the goldenrod in the fresh, wet dirt of Annie’s grave. Over time, she knew it would grow and spread just as it had grown beyond the gates of the East Garden.
“There you go, Goldenrod,” she whispered. “A part of you will always be with Annie.”
When she stood up, the townspeople were silent. She figured there were Dare Club members in the group she hadn’t met, and probably a lot of people who still blamed their bad luck on Goldenrod. Trina hoped that they were taking in what she had said and maybe even beginning to think of the old house in a new way.
One by one the townspeople left, saying good-bye to neighbors and waving at Trina and her dad. A few even stopped by to introduce themselves. One man in overalls said, “Thank you,” although for what, Trina didn’t know.
Charlotte grabbed Edward’s hand and dragged him over to where Trina was standing. “I just want you to know,” Charlotte began. “We’re going to come early next Saturday and help you decorate.”
“Yeah,” Edward said. “And my dad’s going to deliver a brand-new horse trough so we can bob for apples.”
“Cool,” Trina said. “I’ll pick the apples.”
“Hey, there’s Ben,” Edward said, and ran off.
And then Miss Kitty came up and took Charlotte by the arm and led her deep into the cemetery. To visit Charlotte’s mother, Trina thought sadly. Trina’s own mother wasn’t with her, but at least she was somewhere in the world, alive. Not like Charlotte’s mother.
“That was a nice speech,” Trina’s dad said, appearing next to her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not easy to get up in front of a big group like that. I’m proud of you.”
Miss Dale was standing next to him, nodding, but she was more intent on watching the crowd. “Seems a funeral is about the only thing that brings this town together anymore,” she said softly.
Her dad and Miss Dale turned and headed down the hill toward the truck. Trina hurried to catch up. “But what about the party?” Trina asked. “Do you think they understood what I was saying—that Goldenrod is a happy place now and that whatever ghost they thought was there is gone? Do you think they got that part? Do you think they’ll come?”
“I don’t know,” Miss Dale said. “A lot of folks here are set in their ways. But what you said might change a mind or two. I wouldn’t give up.”
“See you in school,” Edward said, sailing past on his bike, riding no-handed.
“Yeah, see you in school,” Trina called after Edward as Miss Kitty and Charlotte reappeared arm in arm.
“We’ll be riding back with you, if that’s okay, Mr. Mike,” Miss Kitty said, opening the truck’s door. She let Charlotte and Trina and Miss Dale climb into the back seat first and then she climbed into the front seat. “Park in front of my place, Mr. Mike, and don’t any of you dare leave until I tell you.”
Charlotte, Trina, and Miss Dale looked at each other. “What is it, Aunt Kitty?” Miss Dale asked, her voice quavering.
“Just got something gnawing at my conscience worse than ants on sugar,” Miss Kitty said. “Never you mind.”
After that, nobody said a word. The quiet was excruciating and so was the slow ride down Main Street. The crowd from the cemetery filled the street and they had to drive behind them at a speed of about one block per hour. All Trina could figure was that she had really upset Miss Kitty with her speech. Her knees began to wobble worse than they ever had with stage fright.
When Trina’s dad finally parked, they all climbed out of the truck and followed Miss Kitty through the crowd to the front of the diner, where she reached up and clanged the rusty dinner bell with everything she had. Trina swore she felt the ground shake. Soon most of the town was standing around Miss Kitty in complete silence.
Miss Kitty cleared her throat before she shouted, “Seems mighty fitting that we would come together for a meal after such a special morning. So I’m going to cook up some eggs and bacon. Pancakes, too. All you can eat and it’s on me.”
Charlotte gave Trina a sudden hug before Trina knew what hit her. The crowd hooted and hollered until Miss Kitty rang the bell again and all the commotion came to a screeching halt. “But listen up,” Miss Kitty shouted and the crowd went silent again. Miss Kitty reached out and pulled Trina’s dad to stand next to her. Trina gulped. What did Miss Kitty want with her dad?
“We’ve all had our share of bad luck, but I’d say Mr. Mike here and his daughter, Citrine, are about the two luckiest things to happen to this town in years. They’re good, honest, hardworking people. The kind of people who make me proud to live in New Royal. If we can’t trust ’em, we can’t trust anybody. So let’s eat breakfast and then I expect every single one of you—” She stopped talking and looked behind her at the poster in the diner’s window. “To be at the party at Goldenrod, next Saturday night at 6:30 p.m. sharp. If I can do it, you can do it.”
She snapped her mouth shut, gave the crowd an emphatic nod, and pushed open the door of the diner. The crowd was still so quiet you could hear the little tin cats tinkle above her head. “And don’t forget your costumes,” she hollered over her shoulder.
As if an “on” button had been pressed, the whole town resumed its hooting and hollering. Happiness bubbled up in Trina, bringing with it uncontrollable laughter. Charlotte was dancing around, her red hair flying, so Trina danced too. The two of them laughed so hard they doubled themselves over, gasping and holding their stomachs.
Trina was laughing at the shock that Miss Kitty had something nice to say, but she was also laughing for a reason Charlotte might not have thought of: she was pretty sure the town was more afraid of Miss Kitty than it had ever been of Goldenrod.
A joyful town also meant Augustine was right. The Harvest Moon Masquerade Ball would be a very grand party.
Chapter Twenty-three
On Friday morning, the day before the masquerade ball, Trina was up early. Miss Dale had told her she had a surprise for her and she could stay home from school to get ready for the party. But Trina wasn’t sure how to break the news to her dad—except for getting right to work. She brought an empty laundry basket outside and then she grabbed a packing blanket from the cargo trailer and carried it across the field to the orchard.
The apples were so ripe they practically fell off the trees. She tossed the wormy ones with little black holes in them to the ground for the birds; the good ones she tossed onto the blanket. And one she wiped on her shorts and ate for breakfast. She picked every apple she could reach and then she towed them back across the field to Goldenrod and filled the laundry basket with them. She couldn’t budge the basket by herself, so she left it for her dad.
He still wasn’t up, so she made his coffee and a big batch of oatmeal for both of them. She filled the new-old blue sugar bowl up to its brim with sugar and the new-old creamer with milk. Using dish towels as place mats, she set her dad’s place at one end of the table and set hers at the other, as if they were the grand owners of Goldenrod who always dined this formally. She topped off all the elegance by filling the new pink vase with a big bouquet of goldenrod and set it in the center of the table.
“You’re up early,” he said, coming into the dining room and looking around, pleased to see breakfast ready and a cup of coffee waiting for him. And t
hen he noticed the flowers and gave Trina a dubious look. “Is there something else you’ve got cooking?”
“Poppo,” she said, trying to sound especially sure of herself, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something since last night. Miss Dale said I could stay home today and work on the party. She said she cleared the whole thing with Miss Lincoln. It has to do with a surprise.”
“What kind of a surprise?” he asked as he sat down at the table.
“I don’t know, Poppo. All she said was it’s a big surprise.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “So it’s just one day off from school and then it’s business as usual, right?”
Trina nodded.
“Probably for the best, I guess.” He sprinkled a big spoonful of sugar over his oatmeal and tipped another into his coffee. “I’m going to pick up the paint and get to work. My goal is to get a coat of paint on the front of the house by party-time tomorrow. That’ll be Goldenrod’s costume. She’s going to the party as a yellow house.”
Trina was glad her dad was taking the party seriously, but she worried he was trying to do too much in one day. She didn’t say anything, though. She didn’t want to do anything to jinx the excitement.
She sat down and took a bite of her oatmeal. The vase of flowers in the middle of the table was so big she couldn’t see her dad. As they ate, he kept peeking around the vase, making goofy faces at her, and then hiding again. Trina was embarrassed by his silliness, but it made her laugh.
When he left the table to get more coffee, Trina thought she heard the sound of a truck nearing the house and got up to look out the parlor window. As she stared across the tops of the cornfields, a huge cloud of dust rose up on the dirt road. It was rolling toward Goldenrod and it was getting closer by the second. “Poppo,” she hollered. “Come here.”
The Secret of Goldenrod Page 24
