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SummerHill Secrets, Volume 2

Page 32

by Beverly Lewis


  “Thank you,” I said, remembering my manners as I chose a cookie from the offered plate. “Mm-m, they’re still warm.”

  She nodded silently, her eyes glistening. I wondered how lonely she was, living in this big house by herself.

  “Ever think about getting a pet to keep you company?” I asked between mouthwatering bites.

  “A pet? Well, my, oh my, I haven’t ever thought of such a thing.”

  “The Zooks have some new kittens to give away,” I mentioned.

  She leaned her bony elbow on the table, looking into my eyes. “Now, what on earth would an old lady like me do with a couple of frisky kittens?”

  “Maybe you could start with one and see how you like it,” I suggested, taking another cookie.

  She sighed, gazing at my three cats having a snack of their own. “Well, I suppose it might be a good idea. Just don’t rightly know where I’d put the dear thing.”

  “Cats like to wander the house,” I told her. “They need plenty of roaming room. You have a two-story house…and an attic, too, right?”

  She nodded, oblivious to my sneaky statement. “My attic’s off limits to a cat, I’m afraid.”

  My ears perked right up. “Oh, why’s that?”

  Her eyebrows arched high over her eyes. “Well, now, a lady oughta have herself some privacy in a house this size, don’tcha think?”

  Surprised that she’d nearly come out and admitted to having a hideaway for meddling, I thought it best to drop the subject. Didn’t want her to think I was prying, especially about something of great interest to me.

  I thanked her for the after-school treat before heading upstairs to change clothes for the afternoon.

  “Tomorrow we’ll have oatmeal and raisin cookies,” she spoke up quickly.

  “You don’t have to bake a new batch just for me.” I felt uneasy about her going out of her way for me. After all, she was no spring chicken.

  “I’d be downright honored,” she insisted.

  So I left it at that.

  On the way to my room, I took time to locate Miss Spindler’s large bedroom. Stepping inside the doorway, I scanned the room briefly until I heard her rickety voice from below.

  “Merry, dearie, I forgot to tell you that your parents phoned this morning after you left for school.”

  “They must be in Costa Rica…safe and sound?” I called, leaving her bedroom.

  “They wanted you to know,” she answered, her footsteps on the stairs.

  Worried that I was about to be caught, I turned and fled to my room.

  Chapter

  12

  The meadow near the banks of Deer Creek was the perfect spot to spend the rest of the afternoon. That is, after we went scouring the bushes and underbrush in the willow grove for Abednego.

  When we didn’t find him there, we headed out to the highway, way at the east end of SummerHill Lane. He must have run far away to escape the lightning bolts and the crashing thunder.

  “Maybe Abednego thought the noise and the lightning was coming from near the house,” I told Rachel, wondering what might’ve been going through his furry head during the storm.

  “Jah, maybe,” Rachel said, out of breath.

  We walked back toward her house and then cut across the north pasture to the meadow. There we sat in the tall grasses, encircled by golden buttercups and white and yellow daisies. We watched a pair of swallows flitter and dive after insects in flight.

  “Has anyone ever seen Old Hawk Eyes’ attic?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the light of the sun.

  Rachel played with the strings on her prayer cap and shook her head. “Nobody seems to know a thing about how she keeps up with all that gossip of hers.”

  “It’s like she’s connected somehow,” I said, letting myself fall back in the grass. “She just knows so much…about all of us.”

  “Jah, plugged in to the gossip line, I’d hafta say.”

  We talked about what it would be like for us to turn seventeen next fall and how much Rachel enjoyed going to barn singings on weekends.

  “How’s Matthew Yoder these days?” I asked, staring up at her silhouette blocking the sun.

  She giggled and her cheeks turned crimson. “Ach, ya ain’t s’posed to be askin’ that sort of thing, Merry.”

  “So you do still like him?”

  “Matthew’s the beau for me,” she said softly. “We’ll be going to baptismal classes together come July. It’s very important.”

  “Does this mean what I think it means?” I asked, anxious to know if she’d be joining the Amish church this year.

  “I’m planning my future, jah. It’s what’s expected of me, I s’pose.” She leaned back in the grass next to me, her cap askew.

  “Then, you’re not sure if it’s the right thing…is that what you’re saying?” It was nosy of me, but I had to ask.

  “If I want to be Matthew’s wife someday, I’ll join the church.

  It’s the only way to marry an Amish boy.”

  I turned to face her, the grass tickling my neck. “Are you saying he’s already proposed?”

  “Sorry, Cousin Merry, you know our traditions about going for steady. It’s always kept a secret till two weeks before the weddin’. ”

  I smiled. “Can’t fool me. You’re practically engaged, and you know it!”

  With that, she got up and ran across the meadow. I chased her, laughing like a young child as ribbons of sunbeams floated all around us.

  Later, after we’d worn ourselves out, we sat with our bare feet splashing in the creek. It was then that I asked her about Levi. “I have this feeling, you know.”

  “Far as I know, he ain’t got a new girlfriend,” Rachel said. “But then again, I could be wrong. Things like that can happen so fast. Almost overnight, sometimes.”

  “I know, and that’s okay…really it is.”

  She turned to me and reached to touch my hand. “It ain’t okay, Cousin Merry, and you know it. Ach, not knowin’ for sure is burning up your heart, and ya can’t think of much else. Am I right?”

  I didn’t dare fess up. Not to Levi’s sister, of all people.

  She pulled her feet up out of the cool stream and dried them against the wild grass. “I was hopin’ all along that someday you’d be my sister-in-law, ya know.”

  Any other time, I might’ve smiled at that. Pete’s sake, I’d heard it enough times from her. But today I sat as still as the boulders along the creek bed, watching sunlight dance like teardrops on the water. “Someday’s so far off when you’re only sixteen,” I whispered, still gazing at the little stars of light skipping and playing on the brook.

  “You’re sixteen and a half,” she reminded me. “That’s why we’re here today…remember?” Picking up a pebble, she tossed it into the water.

  “Caught between twelve and twenty,” I muttered.

  Before going to bed, I decided to write Levi a note.

  April 22

  Dear Levi,

  Thanks for writing again. You must be very busy at school, so I understand if you can’t write as often as before. I’ve been busy, too.

  I’m staying with Miss Spindler for a few days while my parents are in Costa Rica. Remember, they talked about going during MY Easter break? Anyway, it didn’t work out, so they went this week, and I would’ve gone with them—to take pictures, like you suggested one time—but I couldn’t miss that much school. So here I am.

  Skip’s coming home on Thursday afternoon to stay with me till Mom and Dad return on the weekend. My brother has a job near his college campus, so even though he’s on Easter break this week, he’s not getting much of a vacation from school, after all.

  Today Rachel and I went looking for my ornery cat, Abednego. He’s the one who’s always running off. Well, I don’t know for sure, but it seems he’s not coming back this time, and I miss him. Only the Lord knows where he is now.

  Maybe I’ll see you this summer. Take care, and God bless you.

  Your friend,
/>   Merry

  I read what I’d written and realized the note had a stiff sort of feel to it. I wondered if Levi would notice. I hadn’t meant to be standoffish toward him just because he wasn’t coming home as promised. I was shielding myself, I guess. Didn’t want to be hurt.

  It wasn’t long before Miss Spindler was calling me for supper. “Coming in a minute,” I said, hoping to locate her attic stairs before heading down.

  Once inside her bedroom, I opened two doors, both of which turned out to be closets. On the third try—bull’s-eye!

  I was absolutely baffled by what I saw. My eyes roamed up the steep beige carpeted steps. “Truly amazing,” I whispered.

  It looked to me as if Miss Spindler’s attic had been finished in as pretty a style as the rest of her house. Tomorrow, without fail, I would talk to Chelsea about setting up a time to phone Miss Spindler to occupy her time. I had to see this attic.

  “Merry, dearie!” I was being paged.

  Silently, I closed the attic door and hurried downstairs for supper.

  Tomorrow!

  Chapter

  13

  Chelsea Davis was absent from school the next day. I realized she was probably sick when she wasn’t on the school bus, seated and smiling in her usual spot.

  Later, when I asked Ashley and Lissa about her, Ashley said she’d called and asked for prayer last night. “She had a high fever, she said. Her parents were getting ready to take her to the emergency room,” Ashley explained.

  My heart sank. “Did your dad pray with her on the phone?”

  Ashley nodded, sporting a grin. “Daddy was quite thrilled to pray for her. And something else.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Chelsea called Daddy her pastor.”

  “Really?” I was truly excited about that but concerned about Chelsea’s physical problems.

  “Has anyone called to check on her this morning?” I asked.

  Lissa looked at her watch. “I doubt that you have time to now.”

  I knew she was right. “Maybe during lunch.”

  The girls hurried off to their lockers just as I spied the Alliteration Wizard. Tall, lean, and relaxed, he strolled up to my locker. I honestly had to tell myself to cool it. He was only a guy, for pete’s sake. Sure, he was an exceptionally good-looking one, but that was beside the point. There were oodles of cute boys at James Buchanan High. Still, why did my heart have to pound so hard when he came near?

  “Mistress Merry,” he said, greeting me with his usual nickname.

  Funny, but I wished he’d revert back to calling me just plain Merry. Like yesterday.

  We talked about Chelsea being sick and my lost cat. There was no mention made of his brain wave about alliterating and rhyming in one breath. I was actually relieved. It was enough to wonder where Abednego had gone and contemplate my next move with Miss Spindler and her attic—especially now that Chelsea wouldn’t be able to distract her with a phone call—let alone ponder if I was up to the task of expanding my cerebellum by adding yet another facet to Jon Klein’s word game.

  “I wonder…could you do me a favor?” I blurted.

  His gaze and smile made me almost forget what I was about to say. “Whatever you wish,” he said.

  “You’ve met Miss Spindler, right?”

  He frowned, thinking. “Not really…not formally, at least.”

  I wondered if this was such a good idea, after all.

  “What’s the favor?” he prodded.

  “Could you give her a call after school today?”

  “Old Hawk Eyes?” He chuckled, reaching up and smoothing his hair back with one hand. “You want me to call an old woman I don’t remember ever meeting?”

  “Would you, please?”

  “Only if you give me some ideas—you know, what I should say to her,” he insisted.

  I sighed. “Well, let’s see. You could talk about her vegetable garden or…her need for a pet. That’s it! Tell her you know of someone—that would be Rachel Zook—who has way too many cats. I’ve already put a bug in her ear about that. What do you think? Nice topic for conversation, right?”

  He offered a slight smile. “I think you better tell me what this is about, Merry, because I have a feeling you’re up to something.”

  Jon was absolutely right. So I told him what I planned to do while he kept Miss Spindler on the phone.

  He shook his head, laughing. “You’re going to be upstairs in her attic?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Just spying a little.”

  He seemed interested. “Checking out her attic for what?”

  The bell rang, and we had to conclude our talk.

  “I’ll fill you in at lunch,” I promised.

  He was still in a daze. I saw confusion in his eyes.

  Then it hit me.

  Oh great, I thought, this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done!

  It turned out that something must’ve come up for Jon over lunch hour, because he never showed up. I told Ashley and Lissa about my quick chat with Chelsea’s mom before lunch. “Chelsea’s really sick.”

  They listened, wide-eyed, as I filled them in. “Chelsea’s got scarlet fever and won’t be back to school for over a week.”

  “Scarlet fever?” Lissa gasped. “Don’t people die from that?”

  I tried to calm her down, explaining that back in the olden days people didn’t have strong antibiotics to kill the virus.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Ashley said, clutching her throat. “It’s contagious…and haven’t we been exposed to her?”

  “You’re right. Especially Sunday, when all of us went looking for Abednego together,” I said, thinking back to whether Chelsea had complained of a sore throat or anything else. “The best thing to do if you’ve never had scarlet fever is get plenty of rest and drink lots of water,” I told them what Chelsea’s mom had just advised me over the phone. “And take extra vitamin C—that might help you, too.”

  My comments seemed to satisfy Ashley’s concern. Lissa, however, was still frowning. “Someone will have to take Chelsea’s homework to her, right?”

  I shrugged it off. “I’ll take it. I’m not afraid.”

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Ashley asked.

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” I meant it. “When I was little I had a mild case of scarlet fever.”

  “You remember?” Lissa asked.

  “Barely, but yeah.”

  “Well, then, you’re the girl for the job,” Ashley said.

  “Say that with all j’s,” I dared her. But she didn’t even try.

  I excused myself and got up from the table. “Have to find where Jon’s hiding out. He and I have something to settle.” I didn’t want to say more.

  Lissa’s eyes blinked ninety miles an hour. “Uh, really? Is this something we oughta know about?”

  I brushed off her comment. Didn’t need to let her in on my wild scheme. Maybe later, but not now.

  “Are you and Jon getting…you know, back together?” Lissa asked out of the blue.

  I almost choked. “We were never ‘together’ in the first place.” Except in my heart, I thought.

  , “But you and he—”

  “Nope, we were always just friends.” I paused, remembering the days when he and I were strictly alliteration buddies. Back before anyone else knew about the word game. “Just good friends,” I repeated.

  “So then, what’s the big secret?” Ashley came right out and asked.

  I debated whether to divulge my plan. Students all around us were eating and chattering, some laughing and making jokes at their tables, others cramming for tests—spreading homework out in front of them.

  “Merry?” said Lissa. “Does it have something to do with Miss Spindler?”

  I couldn’t hold it in another second. “You’re right. It’s about Old Hawk Eyes…and her attic.”

  “How does Jon fit in?” Ashley asked, reaching for her soda.

/>   “Very carefully” was all I would say.

  “Aw, tell us,” Ashley persisted.

  “Gotta run,” I said, leaving the table, their pleadings ringing in my ears.

  Chapter

  14

  After school, I took Chelsea’s homework assignment to her house and gave it to her mother at the door. It was good to see Mrs. Davis looking so fit and perky, her cheeks rosy and eyes bright again. She’d been through quite an ordeal last fall, and I knew God had answered many prayers.

  “Thank you, Merry,” she said. “I’ll be sure to tell Chelsea you dropped by.”

  “Give her this, too.” I held out a get-well card I’d made during study hall. “It’s from Ashley, Lissa, and me.”

  “How sweet of you. You’re very kind.”

  I waved and headed down the front steps to the road. Running down SummerHill Lane was easy from Chelsea’s house to mine. It was the steep slope that turned left at Strawberry Lane that took the wind out of me.

  At precisely 4:15 the phone rang at Miss Spindler’s. I held my breath, leaning over the banister upstairs, listening.

  “This is Ruby Spindler,” I heard her answer the telephone.

  Then, for the longest time, there was silence on her end.

  Johnny-on-the-spot, I dashed to her bedroom and checked the caller ID on the bedside phone table. Sure enough, Jon Klein had come through for me, exactly as we’d secretly concocted at my locker after school.

  Cupping my hand over my mouth, I held in the giggle that threatened to spill out. Quickly and quietly, I approached the door that led to the attic, thinking that I’d love to know what Jon was saying right now! Was he showing off his alliterationeze for her?

  Once I was on the other side of the door with my foot on the first step, I turned and closed the door behind me. Silent as springtime.

  Then, climbing the stairs two at a time, I sprang up into the attic, taking in the wood-paneled walls, finished ceiling, and flecked beige carpet.

 

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