The Letter, the Witch, and the Ring

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The Letter, the Witch, and the Ring Page 8

by John Bellairs


  "Yeah," Aggie added. "Mrs. Whatsername and Rose... uh, Rosemary's family are real good friends, they really are. Only Mrs. ... Mrs. ..."

  "Zimmermann," said Rose Rita, giving Aggie a dirty look.

  "Oh, yeah. Mrs. Zimmermann. Well, old Oley—you know him, Ma—he left Mrs. Zimmermann his farm, and she and Rosemary came up to look at it, and last night Mrs. Zimmermann wandered off into the woods out behind the farm, and she disappeared."

  "Yeah," said Rose Rita. "I think she must've gotten lost. Anyway, I can't find her anywhere, and I'm getting scared."

  Rose Rita held her breath. Would Mrs. Sipes believe this tale?

  "Oh, Rosemary!" exclaimed Mrs. Sipes, putting her arm around her. "What an awful thing to happen! Look, I tell you what I'll do. I'll get on the phone and call up the sheriff's office and they'll get some of their men out there, right away quick, to search for her. There was someone who got lost in the woods up here only last year, and they found him before he got hurt. So don't worry. Your friend'll be all right."

  Inwardly Rose Rita breathed a sigh of relief. She hated to lie about Mrs. Zimmermann's disappearance, and she was (in reality) worried sick about her. But she just didn't know what Mrs. Sipes would say if she were to tell her that Mrs. Zimmermann had disappeared right into thin air.

  Later, after the call to the sheriff's department had been made, Rose Rita was sitting at a long dining room table with Aggie and seven other children and Mrs. Sipes. Rose Rita was sitting at the head of the table, in the place where Mr. Sipes usually sat. Mr. Sipes was away overnight in Petoskey, on business.

  Rose Rita looked around the table. It was a worried-looking family. They all had those long faces and upturned eyebrows. There were tall kids and short kids, five boys and two girls (counting Aggie) and a baby in a highchair. On the table was a big platter of corned beef, potatoes, onions, and carrots, and there were more vegetables and some dumplings in the two smoking dishes that stood nearby. There was a cutting board with freshly baked bread on it, and there were two big pitchers of milk. Mrs. Sipes said grace, and then everybody dug in.

  "Let Rosemary have some first," said Mrs. Sipes. "She's our guest, you know."

  It took Rose Rita a second to recognize her new name. In fact she was startled when someone shoved a tureen of mashed carrots at her. "Oh... uh, thanks," she mumbled, and she helped herself to some.

  Later on, when everyone had been served, Mrs. Sipes said in a loud clear voice, "Children, I think you should know that Rosemary here has had an accident. The friend she was traveling with got lost in the forest, and we're trying to find her. We've sent the sheriff's patrol out to look for her."

  "I think anybody who gets lost in the woods over here must really be dumb," said a tall boy with black curly hair.

  "Leonard!" said Mrs. Sipes in a shocked voice. "That will be quite enough out of you!" She turned to Rose Rita and smiled sympathetically. "I must apologize for my rude son. Tell us, Rosemary, where do you come from?"

  "New Zebedee, ma'am. It's a little town way down near the bottom of the state. Probably you never heard of it."

  "I think I know where it is," said Mrs. Sipes. "Now then. I really think we'd better notify your parents. They'll want to know what's happened. What is your father's name?"

  Rose Rita stared at the tablecloth. She stuck out her lower lip and looked as sad as she could. "My folks are dead. Both of them. I live with my uncle Jonathan. He's my legal guardian, and his name is Jonathan Barnavelt, and he lives at 100 High Street."

  Mrs. Sipes looked surprised and saddened. "My lord, you poor girl! What a string of misfortunes! First your parents dead, and now this to happen to you! Tell me, my dear. How did it happen?"

  Rose Rita blinked. "How did what happen?"

  "How did your parents happen to die? Excuse me for going into something so sad right at this present moment, but I couldn't help wondering what had happened to them."

  Rose Rita paused. There was a mischievous gleam in her eye. She was beginning to enjoy her own lying. At first she had been afraid of being found out, but now that Mrs. Sipes had swallowed both the lost-in-the-forest story and the orphan story—not to mention Rose Rita's fake name—Rose Rita began to think that she would swallow anything. And inwardly she was chortling at her own cleverness in having made up the part about Jonathan being her guardian. There was a good one, since it would allow her to call up Jonathan and find out what she wanted to know, without any more fooling around. Rose Rita had intended to just say that her folks had been killed in a car accident, but now she decided to try for something fancy. It wouldn't do any harm.

  "My folks got killed in a funny kind of way," she began. "You see, my dad used to be a forest ranger. He used to walk around in the woods a lot and make sure there weren't any forest fires, and that kind of thing. Well, one day he came across this beaver dam, and it was a really weird-looking kind of dam—all messy and screwed up. My dad had never seen a beaver dam that looked like it, not ever, and he wondered how come it looked the way it did. You see, what he didn't know was, the dam had been built by a beaver that had rabies. And then my dad brought my mom out to look at the dam, and the beaver bit 'em both, and they died."

  Silence. Dead silence. Then Aggie's sister tittered, and one of the boys laughed.

  "Gee," said Leonard in a loud sarcastic voice, "I would've thought that if a beaver had the rabies, he would just run off into the woods and die. Wouldn't you think so, Ted?"

  "Yeah," said the boy who was sitting next to Leonard. "I never heard of anyone gettin' bit by a beaver that had rabies. And anyway, if that's what really happened, how'd you ever find out? If your folks got bit and died, they wouldn't of told you nothin', would they?"

  Rose Rita could feel her face getting red. Everyone was looking at her, and she felt as if she were sitting there without any clothes on. She stared hard at her plate and mumbled, "It was a real rare kind of rabies."

  More silence. More staring. Finally Mrs. Sipes cleared her throat and said, "Uh, Rosemary, I think you'd better come into the other room with me for a minute, if you don't mind. And Aggie, you'd better come too."

  Aggie got up and followed Rose Rita out of the room. With Mrs. Sipes leading the way, the glum little procession wound its way up the stairs and into a bedroom at the front of the house. Rose Rita and Aggie sat down side by side on the bed, and Mrs. Sipes closed the door softly behind her.

  "Now then," she said, folding her arms and staring hard at Rose Rita. "I have heard incredible stories in my time, but this one just about takes the cake. I thought there was something odd about that orphan tale, but—Rosemary... by the way, is that your real name?"

  Rose Rita shook her head. "No, ma'am," she said, in a tearful voice. "It's Rose Rita."

  Mrs. Sipes smiled a faint little smile. "Well, at least it's fairly similar. Now listen, Rose Rita," she said, staring straight into her eyes, "if you're in some kind of trouble, I'd like to help you. I don't know what moved you to concoct that ridiculous story about the beaver, but you'll have to lie better than that if you want to grow up to be a con man, or a con girl, or whatever it is you want to be. Now do you suppose you could tell me, honestly and truly, what happened and why you're here?"

  Rose Rita glared balefully at Mrs. Sipes. She wondered what Mrs. Sipes would say if she told her about the patch of trampled grass with no path leading away from it. "I told you, Mrs. Sipes," said Rose Rita stubbornly, "I told you that my friend Mrs. Zimmermann is lost, and I don't know where she is. Honest to God."

  Mrs. Sipes sighed. "Well, my dear, I suppose that part of your story may be true. But I have never heard such an atrocious lie as that beaver story, really I haven't! Bit by a rabid beaver, indeed! And now you tell me that your real name is Rose Rita. All right, let's have some more of the truth. Are your parents dead, or alive?"

  "My folks are alive," said Rose Rita, in a dull hopeless voice. "And their names are George and Louise Pottinger, and they live at 39 Mansion Street in New Zebedee, Michigan. And
I'm their daughter. I really am. Honest. Cross my heart and hope to die."

  Mrs. Sipes smiled sympathetically at Rose Rita. "There now. Isn't it easier to tell the truth?"

  Not much, thought Rose Rita, but she said nothing.

  Mrs. Sipes sighed again and shook her head. "I don't understand you, Rose Rita. I honestly don't. If it's true that you were traveling with a friend of your family's named Mrs. Zimmermann—"

  "It's true, all right," said Rose Rita, interrupting. "Her handbag is still on the kitchen table in that crummy old farmhouse, and it's probably got her driver's license and a lot of other stuff in it with her name on it. So there." She folded her arms and glared fiercely at Mrs. Sipes.

  "Very well," said Mrs. Sipes calmly. "As I was saying, if that part of your story is true, why on earth did you try to hide your parents' identity?"

  An answer sprang into Rose Rita's head, an answer that was partly true. "On account of my dad doesn't like Mrs. Zimmermann. He thinks she's a screwball, and if she turns up alive, my dad'll never let me go anywhere with Mrs. Zimmermann ever again."

  "Oh, now, I think you're being rather hard on your father," said Mrs. Sipes. "I don't know him, of course, but it's hard to believe that he'd think Mrs. Zimmermann was a screwball just because she got lost in the woods. Lots of people get lost, every day."

  Yeah, thought Rose Rita, but if he ever found out Mrs. Zimmermann was a witch, he'd sure go through the roof. Besides he can't help us. Uncle Jonathan is the only one that can. Rose Rita wriggled impatiently and dug her heel into the rug. She felt like a prisoner. If only Mrs. Sipes would just go away so she could call up Uncle Jonathan and find out what to do about Mrs. Bigger! He could give her a magic formula to use, and then everything would be all right. It was all very frustrating. It was like almost having your hands on something and having someone slap your hands away every time you made a grab. She needed that book, the magic book with the funny name. But she couldn't do a thing until Mrs. Sipes left her alone.

  While Rose Rita sat there stewing, Mrs. Sipes rattled on about responsibility and honesty, and how your parents were really your best friends if you gave them half a chance. When Rose Rita tuned back in on her, she was saying "...And so I think that what we have to do now is call your folks up and tell them what happened. They'll want to know that you're okay. Then I'll drive over to the Gunderson farm and see if everything is all right. You probably left everything wide open, and there are people who just walk in and take things, you know. After that all we can do is wait." Mrs. Sipes walked over and sat down next to Rose Rita on the bed. She put her arm around her. "I'm sorry to have been so hard on you, Rose Rita," she said softly. "I know you must be very upset because of what happened to your friend. But the police are out there now, combing the woods. I'm sure they'll find her."

  Fat chance, thought Rose Rita, but again she said nothing. Now if only Mrs. Sipes would get in her car and go over to the farm and leave her here alone! Go away, Mrs. Sipes! Go away.

  First, though, Rose Rita had to call her folks up. There was no getting around that. The three of them went downstairs, and Rose Rita called up her parents, long distance. Mrs. Pottinger answered the phone, and Rose Rita once again recited her story about how Mrs. Zimmermann had disappeared from the Gunderson farm in the middle of the night and had probably gotten lost in the woods. Mrs. Pottinger was the sort of person who got flustered easily, and when she heard of Mrs. Zimmermann's disappearance, she really got rattled. But she told Rose Rita not to worry, that she and Mr. Pottinger would be up there to get her as soon as they could, and she insisted on being called the moment there was any news about Mrs. Zimmermann. Then Mrs. Sipes took the phone, and she gave Mrs. Pottinger directions for getting to the Sipes farm. After that Mrs. Pottinger talked to Rose Rita a few minutes more, and then she hung up. And then, after a bit of fussing, Mrs. Sipes got into her car and drove off in the direction of the Gunderson farm.

  Rose Rita stood by the front window watching Mrs. Sipes's car as it disappeared over a hill. Aggie stood by her, watching, with her habitual worried expression.

  "What're you gonna do now?" she asked.

  "I'm gonna call up Lewis's Uncle Jonathan, right away quick. If he doesn't know what to do about old Mrs. Bigger, then nobody does!" Rose Rita felt excited. She already imagined herself armed with a spell and confronting Mrs. Bigger.

  Rose Rita went back to the front hall and picked up the telephone. She glanced nervously around to make sure none of the other Sipes kids was in earshot. None of them was. Aggie stood by Rose Rita, anxiously waiting, as she asked for the long distance operator. "I want New Zebedee, Michigan, number 865, please, operator. The residence of Mr. Jonathan Barnavelt. This is a collect call."

  Rose Rita and Aggie waited. They could hear the operator ringing Jonathan's phone. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Eight times she let it ring, and then she said, in that singsongy voice that Rose Rita knew so well, "I am sorry, but the party does not seem to answer. Would you care to call later?"

  "Yeah," said Rose Rita, in a dull hopeless voice. "I'll call later. Thanks." She hung up the phone and sat down on the hassock next to the phone table. "Gosh darn!" she said angrily. "Gosh darn it all anyway! Now what are we gonna do?"

  "Maybe they'll find Mrs. Zimmermann in the forest," said Aggie hopefully. She was having trouble keeping Rose Rita's lies separate from the true story in her head.

  Rose Rita just looked at her. "We'll try again," she muttered. "He's got to be home sometime."

  Rose Rita tried three more times in ten minutes, but each time the result was the same. After a little while Mrs. Sipes came back. She was beaming, because she had found Mrs. Zimmermann's handbag on the kitchen table in Oley's house, and in the handbag she had found Mrs. Zimmermann's driver's license, her car keys, and a lot of other identification. So now she was convinced that Rose Rita was telling her the whole truth. Rose Rita was glad she was convinced. Now if only Mrs. Sipes would go off to some far corner of her farm, so she could try Jonathan's number again!

  But Mrs. Sipes stayed right at home the rest of the day. Rose Rita swung on the front porch swing, and played stickball with Aggie, and helped her feed the cows and slop the hogs. When she wasn't doing anything else, Rose Rita chewed her nails. Why wouldn't Mrs. Sipes leave? There was only one phone in the house, and since it was on a table in the front hall, it was hardly private. Mrs. Sipes was not the sort who would stand over Rose Rita while she called, but she might be in the other room, and what would she do if she heard Rose Rita asking Jonathan for a spell that would free Mrs. Zimmermann from Gert Bigger's enchantments? No, she would have to be alone to make a call like that, and Rose Rita knew it. She waited for her chance, but her chance never came.

  That evening, as Rose Rita and Aggie helped Mrs. Sipes get dinner ready, the phone rang. It was Mrs. Pottinger. It seemed that their car had broken down on the road. Something had gone wrong with it—the differential, she thought it was. Whatever it was, they wouldn't be in until tomorrow morning. Was there any news about Mrs. Zimmermann? No, there wasn't. Mrs. Pottinger said they were sorry about the delay, but there was no help for it. They'd be there when they got the car running again.

  Rose Rita felt like a prisoner who has gotten a stay of execution. Now she would have more time to try to get Uncle Jonathan! "Oh come on, Uncle Jonathan!" she prayed under her breath. "Next time, be home! Please be home! Please!"

  Rose Rita spent the evening playing parcheesi and Michigan rummy with Aggie and some of the other Sipes kids. Before she knew it, it was time for bed. She took a bath, which she badly needed, and put on a clean pair of pajamas from her valise, which Mrs. Sipes had brought back from the farmhouse. When Rose Rita was all cleaned up, Mrs. Sipes told her that she was sleeping in the extra bed in Aggie's room. Aggie's room was all flouncy and frilly and pink, a regular girl's room. There was a big teddy bear in the rocking chair in the corner, and there was a vanity table with a round mirror and some perfume bottles on it. Even though she was a farm girl and wore je
ans a good deal of the time, Aggie seemed happy to be a girl. She said she looked forward to going to Junior High, and dates and dances and proms and stuff like that. She said that it was a relief sometimes to get out of her jeans and the boots that smelled of manure and go to a square dance at the Four-H Building. Rose Rita wondered if she would think that way herself in the fall. Meanwhile, she had other things on her mind.

  That night Rose Rita lay wide awake, listening to the sounds of the house. Her heart was beating fast, and she felt very nervous. The Sipes family went to bed at ten, because they had to be up at six in the morning to do chores. No exceptions were allowed. And considering the fact that there were eight children in the family, the house quieted down pretty fast. By ten-thirty you could have heard a pin drop in the hall.

  "Are you awake, Rose Rita?" Aggie hissed.

  "Of course I'm awake, you dope. I'm gonna go down in a few minutes and try Uncle Jonathan's number again."

  "Do you want me to go with you?"

  "No. It'd make too much noise if both of us go. Just sit tight, and wait."

  "Okay."

  Minutes passed. When Rose Rita was finally sure that the house was asleep, she got out of bed and tiptoed downstairs to the telephone. There was a hall closet near the phone, and fortunately the cord was long.

  Rose Rita took the phone into the closet, shut the door, and squatted there under the coats. Whispering as loudly as she dared, she asked for Jonathan's number again. Again the operator tried. Ten times, fifteen, twenty times. It was no use. He was away—probably gone for the night.

  Rose Rita hung up the phone and put it back on the table. She tiptoed back up the stairs to Aggie's room.

  "How'd it go?"

  "No soap," Rose Rita whispered. "Maybe he's gone to visit his sister in Osee Five Hills. He does that every now and then, and I don't know her number. I don't even know what her name is. Oh gosh, what are we gonna do?"

 

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