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The Secret Tree

Page 9

by Natalie Standiford


  “Why don’t you and I take a drive later and see if we can find her?” Mr. Rogers said to Wendy.

  Fwat! A watermelon seed suddenly plastered itself to Mr. Rogers’s face. He glared down the table at Troy, who held a straw to his mouth. Fwat! He shot another seed at Wendy.

  Mr. Rogers jumped up. “Troy Rogers, you come with me.” He rounded the table, grabbed Troy by the arm, and led him away. “When will you learn to behave? We’re going to have a talk, Buster….”

  Troy didn’t look scared. He was laughing. So was David. David shot some seeds at Troy as Mr. Rogers dragged him away.

  Wendy sighed and ate her hamburger. DeeDee and Claudia sat down next to David. Wendy watched them while she ate.

  “Where’s Troy? Getting punished again?” Claudia asked.

  “I don’t know,” David mumbled.

  “You never know anything,” DeeDee said.

  David slumped in his seat. I think Wendy felt sorry for him, because she said, “Girls, that’s no way to talk to your brother.”

  But they only laughed and walked away to get some ice cream.

  “Don’t listen to them, David,” Wendy said. “They’re just trying to psych you out.”

  “Who cares?” David said.

  Paz tapped my hand to get my attention. “Minty, watch this.”

  From the buffet line, Thea waved to Kip and called, “Medium-rare?”

  He called back, “Yeah!”

  Melina turned around and glared at Thea.

  “Did you see that look?” Paz asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Something’s definitely wrong.”

  “I’ve never seen them so cold to each other before,” Paz said.

  Neither had I. The Fourth of July sure seemed to bring out the worst in people.

  After dinner I took a walk in the woods. Otis and Esmeralda had left. Soon it would be dark. I stopped at the Secret Tree and reached inside.

  I wanted to find an answer. To something. To anything.

  But instead, I found another secret.

  I’m betraying my best friend in a terrible way.

  All the secrets were sad. But this one really hurt me. Because to me, best friends are sacred. And when this person’s best friend found out about the betrayal, that friendship would be over.

  I put the secret back in the hole. I wanted Crazy Ike to eat it. I wanted it to go away.

  I walked home in the dusk. Mr. Jack was setting off some fireworks he’d bought in Virginia. He did this every year. He didn’t have a permit, but a lot of the things Mr. Jack did were illegal. That’s just the way he was.

  Everyone in the neighborhood was gathered in my backyard, faces turned to the sky. The fireworks bathed them in colors, red, white, blue, green….

  They all have their secrets, I thought. Each person’s real life is a mystery.

  The fireworks exploded, commemorating a war for independence, while all around me people fought their private battles. Even the Mean Boys. Sister versus brother, friend versus friend, son versus father … they all had private battles that no one understood except for them.

  I wanted to understand. But the more I spied, the more mystery I uncovered. I’d never know the whole story. There was so much I couldn’t guess.

  One of these people was betraying his or her best friend.

  Was Troy betraying David?

  Was Melina betraying Thea?

  My eyes fell on Paz. A thought fought its way to the front of my mind, a thought so awful I could hardly stand to think it. But it pushed its way through and made itself known.

  Was Paz betraying me?

  And then, one final possibility: Was Raymond?

  On the fifth of July, I walked through the woods to visit Raymond. I couldn’t resist a stop at the Secret Tree on the way.

  The secret about betraying a best friend was gone, but there was a new secret — a juicy one — in its place.

  I know where Wendy’s cat is. And I’m not telling.

  I put it in my pocket and ran the rest of the way through the woods to show Raymond.

  “Look.” I pulled the new secret out of my pocket. “The mystery deepens.”

  Raymond read the slip of paper. “Let’s get the book.” We studied the secret notebook, pondering the pictures of everyone in the neighborhood. Which of these people was betraying a friend? Which one was hiding a cat? It was impossible to tell.

  Anyone was capable of anything. That’s how it seemed to me now.

  “Maybe we should lie low for a while,” I said. “The whole neighborhood’s on edge because of the ‘prowler.’”

  “But what about Wendy? You keep telling me how upset she is about her cat.”

  “That’s true. She practically broke down in sobs last night at the barbecue.”

  “And what if someone is treating Phoebe bad?” Raymond said. “Or hurting her? We’ve got to rescue her!”

  He was right. There was no time to lose. “My top suspects are the Mean Boys.”

  “They’re your top suspects for every case,” Raymond said.

  “Because they do a lot of bad things,” I said.

  “We still haven’t figured out who put a curse on Paz,” Raymond added. “We’ve hardly solved any of these secret mysteries at all. We have a lot of work to do.” He paused. “You haven’t told anyone about me, have you?”

  “No! No one,” I swore, and it was true. Though I didn’t mention the story Otis had told me the night before. He had never said the name of the boy who was locked out of his house.

  “I believe you,” Raymond said. “You’re a good friend. But you have to keep your promise. You promised to keep my secret — remember?”

  “I remember. Don’t worry, Raymond. I’ll keep your secret.”

  “Thanks. Now let’s find out everyone else’s secret!” He cackled with glee.

  I know, it didn’t make sense. And it wasn’t fair. His secret was to be kept, and everyone else’s were fair game. But isn’t that how everybody feels?

  It was an eerie night. Crickets chirped and cicadas whirred, night birds sang, music drifted through the darkness. The lawns were charcoal carpets in the moonlight. Woodlawn Road felt like a movie set — almost real, but not quite.

  Somewhere off in the distance, a cat yowled.

  “Maybe that’s Phoebe,” Raymond said.

  “It’s coming from that direction.” I pointed toward Carroll Drive.

  We glided like ghosts through yards, past houses sleeping and wakeful. The Carters’ house was dark except for a flickering TV light in the living room. Thea was babysitting again.

  “Let’s stop and peek in on Thea,” I whispered. I knew it was risky, but I couldn’t resist.

  We crept up to the living room window. Thea sat on the couch as a horror movie flickered on the screen, the sound down low.

  But Thea wasn’t watching the movie. And she wasn’t alone.

  A boy was on the couch with her. And they were kissing. A lot.

  “Who’s that?” I hissed.

  “Shhh!” Raymond clapped his hand over my mouth.

  I could only see the back of the boy’s head. I tried to think of boys Thea liked. She hadn’t mentioned anyone in particular. Who could this be?

  Thea pulled away from the boy and laughed at something he said. The boy stood up and walked into the kitchen. Thea sat up and smoothed her hair.

  I was shaking. Raymond clamped his arms around me, trying to keep me quiet.

  The boy came back from the kitchen with two sodas. I could see his face now.

  It was Kip.

  I must have gasped, I don’t remember, but Thea jumped up as if she’d heard something. Raymond pushed me flat against the wall. I was breathing hard and fast.

  “That’s Kip Murphy!” I whispered. “That’s the boy Melina likes!”

  “Shhh!” Raymond pulled me along the wall of the house. We had to get away fast, before Thea caught us. We ran out of the yard, keeping to the shadows, and didn’t stop until we were sa
fely in the woods. Thea wouldn’t follow us that far. She’d be too scared of getting attacked by the Man-Bat or the prowler.

  Everybody knew Melina liked Kip. Thea knew it better than anyone.

  But Thea liked Kip too.

  I remembered the night Raymond and I saw Melina spying on Kip, when she ran away crying. Now I could guess why.

  She must have seen Thea kissing Kip. That’s why she was mad at Thea.

  Melina was Thea’s best friend. And Thea was betraying her.

  Once I got over my shock, Raymond and I swept quietly through the neighborhood, looking for Phoebe. We saw Isabelle and Lydia swimming at night in Isabelle’s pool with Isabelle’s older brother, Martin. We saw Katie Park sitting in her family room with her father, watching TV. I wondered why she wasn’t swimming with Isabelle — she sure didn’t look like she was having fun at home.

  We heard Mr. Serrano telling David — very loudly — that if he wasn’t careful he’d end up loading fruit crates for the rest of his life. We heard Mr. Rogers singing a love song out of tune. We saw Wendy on her porch, whistling and calling, “Phoebe! Come back, girl!” We found two stray cats and were barked at by three dogs. But we didn’t find Phoebe.

  I kept my curtains open when I went to bed that night, so I could watch the moon. Clouds swept across it, casting shadows.

  Nothing was going well.

  Someone knew where Wendy’s cat was — lonely, brokenhearted Wendy — and wouldn’t tell. Thea and Kip were sneaking around behind Melina’s back. Someone was sabotaging his father’s diet, and someone else had put a curse on Paz.

  Even Raymond had secrets he wouldn’t share. Like why did he live in the model home?

  A pit of loneliness opened up in my stomach. I reached for my harmonica.

  The next day, I walked up to the Calderons’ house. Before I had a chance to knock on their back door, I heard shrieking from the kitchen. Something told me not to interrupt — probably my newly sharpened spy sense. Instead of knocking, I ran down the back stairs and hid behind the trash cans.

  “Why can’t I go?” Lennie shouted.

  “You’re not invited,” Paz said.

  Invited where? I wondered.

  “You can’t keep me out. I belong to the pool too, you know!”

  I also belonged to the pool.

  “So go. But don’t come near me and my friends. Stay in the baby pool with Hugo and Robbie.”

  Awa barked out something in Chinese, effectively stopping the fight. Paz burst out the kitchen door and limped down the back stairs, her ankle still wrapped in gauze, a towel flung over her shoulder. She hopped onto her bike and rode away. She never noticed me cowering behind the trash cans. Off to the pool, no doubt. To be with her friends. Who didn’t include me.

  Awa yelled some more at Lennie, who said, “All right, all right,” and stomped away.

  I stayed hidden, listening. But all I heard now was the radio switch on and Awa bustling around the kitchen, humming along.

  Just behind me, down low near the ground, a light flickered on in the basement window.

  I couldn’t resist taking a peek.

  Lennie was alone in the basement. She flung herself on the couch and picked up her book, Man-Bat! The Story of Man-Bat. She pulled out another, smaller book hidden inside the Man-Bat tell-all. She opened the second book and read a passage very intently. I tried to make out the title. I thought I saw a picture of a woman in a turban on the cover, and the words Voodoo, Hoodoo, and You.

  Lennie put down the book and opened a cupboard. She moved aside some games and toys and pulled out a wooden box that looked like it might hold chess pieces.

  She opened the box and pulled out a red cloth doll. It had a long, black braid down its back, four tiny barrettes in its hair, and Paz’s wallet-size school picture glued to its face. The doll was stuck full of pins.

  A voodoo doll. A Paz voodoo doll.

  Lennie glanced at the voodoo book again, then muttered something and picked up a pin. She pushed into the doll’s forehead.

  “So it’s you!” I gasped. I couldn’t help it. I was so shocked the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  Lennie looked up and saw me crouched outside the window. “Hey! What are you doing there?”

  She dropped the doll and ran up the stairs. She was coming for me.

  My legs tensed, ready to run. But Lennie had seen me. She’d find me one way or another. There was no place to hide in this neighborhood.

  The kitchen door slammed open, and Lennie appeared at the top of the stairs. She glared down at me where I huddled by the trash cans. My knees shook as I straightened my legs to face her. She was only nine, but anyone mean enough to put a curse on her own sister was someone to be scared of.

  She walked slowly down the back stairs and stood face-to-face with me. “Let’s talk about what you think you saw,” she said.

  “You put a curse on your own sister.”

  “She deserves it.” Lennie’s gaze was clear and hard as glass.

  “But why? What did Paz do to you?”

  “You know what she did.” The glassy stare cracked and she looked away. “She lost Marcella.”

  Marcella. Lennie’s toy cat. Which Paz borrowed last Halloween to complete her cute witch costume. The Witch Lady had snatched Marcella away.

  “Marcella was my favorite toy,” Lennie said. “I slept with her since I was a baby! The Witch Lady probably has her locked up somewhere, rotting in that horrible, scary house! And Paz doesn’t care.” She flounced around in a lame imitation of carefree Paz. “‘Oh, well, so I lost your favorite toy. Get over it!’”

  “Paz cares,” I said. “But what can she do about it?”

  “If she cared, she’d get Marcella back.” Lennie crossed her arms and jutted out her jaw.

  “She can’t get Marcella back,” I said. “She didn’t mean to lose her. You have to stop voodooing Paz and forgive her. You’re hurting her.”

  “She hurt me first. I’m not going to stop until I get Marcella back.”

  “Then I’m going to tell Paz you put a curse on her,” I said.

  “You can’t do that.” Lennie’s jutting jaw quivered. “She’ll kill me!”

  “She deserves to know,” I said. “And as her best friend, it’s my duty to tell her.”

  “Best friend,” Lennie spat. “Is she as good a friend as she is a sister?”

  I couldn’t answer that. I didn’t know firsthand what kind of sister Paz was.

  “She’s Pax A. Punch,” I said. “And I’m Minty Fresh. That’s all that matters.”

  “Go ahead and tell her. I don’t care,” Lennie said. “I’m not removing the curse until I get Marcella back.”

  This was bad news. How much more cursing could Paz take?

  “Maybe if you apologize, she’ll forgive you for cursing her,” I said.

  “Fat chance,” Lennie said.

  “We’ll see.”

  I went home and got my bike for the ride to the pool. I had something important to tell Paz. Something that could really help her. And then she’d remember what a good friend I was.

  At the pool, Paz lay on a towel near the deep end, lined up beside Isabelle, Katie, and Lydia. Her ankle wrap was gone. I guess it would have made a funny tan line. The girls all wore bikinis, their skin gleaming, their eyes closed against the sun. And each girl wore a row of four silver barrettes in her hair.

  I cast a shadow over Paz. She blinked and shaded her eyes.

  “Minty? You’re blocking my sun.”

  “Do you have a headache?” I stared at her forehead.

  “What?”

  “Any pain in your head at all?” Lennie had stuck a pin in the voodoo doll’s forehead. What if that gave Paz a brain tumor? The symptoms might not show up for years.

  Paz closed her eyes again. “My head feels fine, Minty. Can you step out of my sun, please?”

  “Paz, I’ve got something important to tell you.” I sat down beside her on the hot concrete,
on the far side of Isabelle, careful not to shade her.

  “So tell me.”

  I glanced at Isabelle and her friends. Katie and Lydia had opened their eyes and lifted their heads just enough so they could see what was going on.

  “It’s private,” I said in a low voice.

  “You might as well tell her in front of us.” Isabelle spoke without opening her eyes. “There are no secrets between friends. Whatever it is, Paz will tell us anyway — won’t you, Paz?”

  “Definitely,” Paz said. “Go ahead, Minty.”

  I didn’t think this was a good idea, but she asked for it….

  “Someone has put a curse on you,” I said. “A voodoo curse. For real.”

  Lydia and Katie giggled.

  Paz propped herself up on her elbows. “What are you talking about? I’m not cursed.”

  “Oh, no?” I said. “That mysterious stomachache you had a few weeks ago, that unexplained rash, the itchy nose, your twisted ankle —?”

  “I’ve had a lot of bad luck lately,” Paz said.

  “It’s no accident,” I insisted. “Someone’s trying to hurt you on purpose — and I know who.”

  The other girls laughed, and Paz laughed with them. “Who? The Witch Lady?”

  That really sent the other girls into hysterics. “The Witch Lady!” Isabelle cried. “You don’t really believe she’s a witch, do you?”

  “Paz, I’m serious,” I said. “At first I thought it might be the Witch Lady, but it turns out —”

  “I know — a zombie!” Lydia said.

  “The Man-Bat!” Paz added. “Minty, you’re worse than Lennie.”

  They all cracked up. I felt like I’d barged in on a secret club where everyone knew the code except for me.

 

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