The Secret of Grim Hill

by Linda DeMeulemeester

  “Cat!” Mom called again. She shouldn’t have bothered because Sookie had already appeared behind me in the mirror, tugging my arm and pointing downstairs. Unlike me, Sookie thought Jasper was the best thing ever.

  “Hurry,” she pleaded. She danced excitedly, and her short blond hair – which was straight and shiny like Dad’s, but blond like Mom’s – bobbed like a halo of light. I understood why Dad used to call her his “sunshine girl.”

  “Coming, Mom.” I reluctantly started tugging off my socks. “Isn’t this uniform great?” I asked Sookie.

  She shrugged. “Not really,” she said quietly. “The black looks gloomy, just like the school. C’mon,” she said louder this time. “Jasper is waiting, and Mom said he could join us for dinner.” Then she vanished downstairs.

  What was up with Sookie? She usually went crazy over any piece of clothing that belonged to me. And I would have let her try on the socks. Carefully I folded my awesome uniform, went downstairs, and greeted our guest.

  In the kitchen, chili bubbled in the cast iron pot. I could smell peppers and spice. Mom had made taco salad, our favorite, to go with the chili. The smell of cinnamon trailed out of the oven – apple pie! The table was already set with company placemats for Jasper – which gave me a pinch of guilt. Usually, I came home from school and cut up the vegetables for dinner. But between soccer practice and modeling my new uniform, I’d forgotten. Sookie hadn’t set the table either. Instead, she was already sitting down and babbling to Jasper while Mom arranged the napkins. Even though Mom looked tired, she had gone all out. After helping put food on each plate, I slumped down into my chair and started eating. Between heaping mouthfuls, I thanked Mom for the great dinner.

  Mom smiled. She was trying hard to make it up to us because of the divorce and the move. She said she really wanted Sookie and me to adjust. I think that meant make friends, be happy with our new home, and mostly, not miss Dad too much. We had hardly ever seen our father before the divorce. When they were married, he was always away for work. What I really missed was looking forward to when he’d come home. I sighed. All summer I had wanted to be happier for Mom, but it had been hard.

  “Payday was yesterday, so even though it’s overdue, I thought this dinner could be a celebration of you making the team,” Mom said to me. “By the way, Cat, how is everything going these days?”

  “Not bad,” I said. My fork stopped halfway to my mouth in surprise. This was the first time I realized how much everything had changed.

  School had started out horribly and only got worse until the soccer tryouts. It was as if soccer made my life bearable, and the fact that a scholarship was just around the corner made things better than all right.

  Mom relaxed a bit and started eating. “Good. Beginning a new school at your age can be difficult, so I’m glad it’s going well. Although, I really wish you could go to Grimoire School,” Mom mentioned. “But the tuition is extremely expensive, and even with staff discounts, I just can’t afford it. The soccer match is critical. It makes all the difference for your future.”

  What happened to Mom’s usual saying, “Don’t put all your eggs in one basket”? She suddenly sounded as if my team had to win the scholarship.

  “You need to check out how strong the Ghosts are,” offered Jasper. “We should watch them practice.”

  “Really work on your kick shot, Cat,” said Mom. “That’s your strong point.”

  Sookie stared at Mom and frowned. “I don’t see what the big deal is.” She shook her head. “Cat shouldn’t get so caught up in this, right Mom?”

  Oddly ignoring Sookie, Mom said to me, “You have a fifty-fifty chance at the scholarship. You’ve got to put everything you have into it, Cat. Everything.” Her eyes shone.

  Mom never pressured me about sports, but at least if she was this supportive, she wouldn’t mind me doing less homework – which meant I could be free for lots of soccer practices.

  The phone rang, and Mom got up to answer it after telling Sookie to sit back down and eat.

  When we heard, “I’m glad no one was hurt,” our heads snapped in Mom’s direction.

  “Who was that?” I asked as soon as she hung up.

  “Mrs. Singh,” she said. “Apparently there was a fire and Amarjeet’s Punjabi school burned down. Since it will be months before it’s rebuilt, she wanted me to mention it to Ms. Sinster, your coach, when I see her at work. Apparently there had been some kind of conflict with soccer practice.”

  A prickly feeling crawled up my neck – it was as if a plump spider had landed on me. But I brushed the sensation away. I knew Amarjeet would be glad not to have to miss soccer now.

  “We really needed Amarjeet on the team,” I told them, feeling relieved. “Now there’s an even better chance at winning the scholarship.”

  Only Sookie didn’t seem excited for me. She squirmed, even through dessert. Before we’d finished, she jumped out of her chair.

  “Mom, can we set the game up in the attic?” Sookie asked. We liked hanging out in the attic because Mom never bugged us about keeping that area of the house tidy. But she also liked to work up there when she didn’t want to be disturbed.

  Mom nodded and said, “Fine, just don’t touch the files on the desk.”

  Jasper and I started clearing the table. “Why don’t you and Sookie go get started,” I told him. “I’ll dry the dishes.” It was the most helpful thing Jasper could do at the moment. Sookie was in such a rush to clear the table, she almost dropped a stack of plates – she was too impatient to carry them one by one.

  Mom filled the sink with steaming hot water and globs of dish soap, but when I grabbed a fresh striped tea towel out of the drawer, she ushered me to the stairs.

  “Go on,” she said. “I’ll finish.” Mom grabbed a greasy pan. “Have fun with your friend.”

  “He’s not actually my …” I started to say, but I didn’t finish. To be fair about Jasper, over the summer he was the only other kid I’d met. Before the soccer tryouts, it wasn’t as if other kids in my new town had been lining up to be friends with me. I’d hung out at the swimming pool and at the baseball park, but I couldn’t seem to click with anyone. It was hard to believe that last year a really cute boy had asked me to the school dance. How low I’d sunk. That is, until I’d made the team. But it didn’t seem right to turn my back on Jasper now, even if he was younger and not considered cool.

  So instead of finishing my sentence about him not being my friend, I nodded, then climbed the wood stairs up past the bedrooms and to the third-floor attic.

  Stepping through the skinny doorway at the top of the stairs, I had to duck under the slanted ceiling until I stood in the middle of the attic. Old yellow wallpaper with faded red roses covered the walls, and peeling green linoleum covered the floor. The place practically shouted, “Come in and have fun – don’t worry about making a mess.” An old trunk sat in a corner, and one day soon I hoped to figure out how to open it without breaking it. A spooky, headless sewing dummy stuck with pins stood by the window – just the finishing touch to this awesome, creepy place.

  Jasper was sitting by the dust-covered window reading some old notebook he’d found. Sookie looked angry. “We haven’t even taken the game out yet,” she said and gave Jasper a little push. “He won’t stop reading.”

  “I found this journal by the Monopoly game,” he mumbled.

  Jasper was the kind of reading addict who probably read the backs of cereal boxes. “C’mon Jasper,” I said. “Sookie wants to play the game.”

  When he shoved the journal under my nose, I saw that it belonged to someone named Alice Greystone. Flipping to an entry, I read that Alice got the journal for her ninth birthday. Her writing was spidery, as if it were written with those old-fashioned pens that you had to dip in an inkwell. The page began October 13th – around seventy years ago. I began reading out loud:

  Since my sister joined the Witches soccer team, she never plays with me anymore, wrote Alice Greystone. All Lucinda talks
about is her bothersome Halloween soccer match. I don’t want to wait for her at that school on Grim Hill. I don’t like it there. It feels wrong.

  It struck me that if Sookie had a diary, she’d write almost the same words! Surprised, I glanced up at her, thinking I understood better why she hated hanging around the practice field and why she didn’t like my uniform. Sookie missed spending time with me.

  Feeling guilty, I started to close the journal. “We’d better set up the game,” I said quietly. But Jasper grabbed it, flipped a few pages forward, and handed it back to me.

  “Look,” he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. I began to read:

  October 30 – Tomorrow is Halloween, the day of the big game. The whole town is going. All everyone can talk about is if the Witches or Ghosts are going to win. The winners get a scholarship to Grimoire School. I can’t wait for it all to be over. I keep having a bad feeling about the game, but Lucinda won’t listen to me. She even tells Mother she’s watching me, but she sneaks off and plays soccer with her team. She never used to lie. I hope she is nice again when the game is over.

  The attic suddenly felt cold.

  “So there was another Halloween soccer match about seventy years ago with the same first prize – weird,” I said. “Did Lucinda’s team win?”

  Jasper shrugged, leaned over my shoulder, and flipped one page ahead.

  November 1, Alice had written. I was picked to sing in the school concert. Mother was pleased.

  “But who won the game? Did her sister get the scholarship to Grimoire?” I asked again, flipping more pages, stopping, and reading more sections to Jasper and Sookie.

  November 14, I had a lovely birthday dinner with Mother, Father, Auntie Jane, and cousin Mary.

  “Who cares?” Sookie shouted impatiently.

  She had a point. Whoever won seventy years ago had nothing to do with us right now. I tossed the journal on the desk. Jasper took one longing glance at the journal before setting up the Monopoly game.

  We dealt out our Monopoly money and once we rolled the dice, the journal entries we’d read slipped back into the past where they belonged.

  But later that night, after Jasper left, and as Sookie snored softly in her room, I lay in bed wondering about the journal. Why hadn’t Alice mentioned who won the big game?

  Something else was odd about that journal, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  CHAPTER 7 The Price of Team Spirit

  AFTER SCHOOL ON Monday, Jasper met me at my locker.

  “Cat,” Jasper said as he pushed his glasses up on his head. He seemed worried. “I’ve been trying to reach you all weekend. You’re never around.”

  “Sorry – soccer practice,” I explained quickly. “What’s up?”

  “About that journal we had found – you know, I got curious about who won the match that Alice’s sister played in long ago. Accessing old headlines online should have been easy, but I couldn’t find anything. So I went to the library and found computer disks that have archives of the town newspaper.” Glancing over his shoulder, Jasper then whispered, “When I looked up the dates from Alice’s journal, I noticed a very peculiar thing about that original soccer game – ”

  “Cat,” Mia said, cutting Jasper short as she approached with Amarjeet following behind her, “we have to hurry, or we’ll be late for practice.”

  “Oh right, and I have to stop at my house first to get extra bandages,” I said, wincing at the thought of stuffing my aching toes into those tiny soccer boots yet again. Even though it seemed interesting, Jasper and his journal news would have to wait.

  “How do you play so well with such sore feet anyway?” asked Amarjeet.

  “That’s right, you scored three goals yesterday,” said Mia, shaking her head in amazement.

  “Um, Cat…”Jasper said quietly. “Maybe we could meet after practice and talk. I could stay for a few minutes after I drop off Sookie and –”

  Mia and Amarjeet ignored him as they escorted me down the hall and out the door.

  “Maybe!” I called back.

  The three of us hurried to my house, and my friends followed me inside when I went in to grab the bandages. An Emporium shopping bag sat on the dining room table. Mom had attached a note to it.

  You might need these, the note said, but before I could read any further, I had to rip open the bag.

  Inside was a pair of new soccer boots! They were super deluxe, black with stripes that were the same witch-green color of my jersey and socks. The leather was as soft as butter; these boots must have cost a fortune.

  I dug them out of the box and when I slipped them on, it was foot heaven. “They are perfect,” I told my friends as I read the rest of Mom’s note.

  Mr. Keating pointed them out to me as I walked by his store during my lunch hour. I couldn’t resist, and it was as if the idea of new boots popped into both our heads at the same time. Why I didn’t think of them before, I don’t know. After all, this soccer match is everything, she wrote.

  Funny, that was something I should be saying. Coming from my mother, it sounded slightly off. Still, I scooped up my new boots and the three of us headed up Grim Hill to soccer practice.

  “The fog always seems to dance just ahead of us,” said Mia as we climbed to the top of the hill.

  “Just like a mirage,” observed Amarjeet. “The same as when you see a puddle of water ahead of you on the road, but when you get close, it disappears.”

  “But it isn’t a mirage,” I pointed out. “At night the fog rolls all the way down the hill and covers the whole town.” Before bed I look out my bedroom window into what Mom calls pea soup. “By morning, though, the sun is always shining.”

  “And,” said Mia, “even though there is always fog drifting around up here, there is never any fog on the soccer fields during practice.”

  The three of us turned and said, “Nothing seems to get in the way of soccer.” That we’d all said it at the same time struck us as funny and we laughed, racing onto the soccer field.

  We enjoyed every moment of the practice. Just as we were finishing up, Jasper swung by with Sookie. “Hey Cat, I was trying to tell you earlier that there was something not right about – ” he began.

  Mia and Amarjeet pulled me away from him. Sookie stood between the four of us, clearly annoyed.

  Mia said, “Some of the girls are going to the soccer field on the other side of the hill so they can spy on the Ghosts.” Smirking, she then said, “Come on, Cat. This is important espionage.”

  Amarjeet giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “You might find spying on the people sitting in the bleachers a lot more interesting than whatever the Ghosts are up to,” hinted Mia.

  “You could come,” I said lamely to Jasper. Sookie looked up at him hopefully.

  “No. I’d better go.” He shook his head. “My parents expect me back by now.”

  “What about me?” Sookie complained.

  “Don’t you want to hang out with the big kids?” I asked.

  Sookie didn’t look eager. I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t kick up a fuss and praying that Jasper might offer a reprieve and take her off my hands. Neither of those things happened. Finally, when she saw there weren’t any real choices, she took my hand.

  We went to the soccer field on the other side of Grimoire School. Many more trees surrounded this field, casting shadows over the ground. Zipping up my jacket against a chilly wind that seemed to only blow over this area, I elbowed Mia. “Hey,” I said, “aren’t you supposed to be shopping with your sister for bridesmaids’ dresses this afternoon?”

  “I forgot to tell you – my sister broke up with her fiancé,” whispered Mia. “The wedding’s been canceled. She won’t stop crying.” Mia shrugged her shoulders. “Now I won’t miss any practices.”

  Nothing really did get in the way of soccer, I thought. Then, hearing voices on the bleacher in front of us, I finally figured out why Mia and Amarjeet were so int
erested in spying on the Ghosts, and it had nothing to do with the team’s soccer technique. The cute guys from Darkmont had come to watch this practice – we were sitting behind Zach and his friends!

  Mia discreetly pointed to one of them, whispering, “Mitch is Darkmont’s star basketball player.” Her eyes sparkled with admiration.

  “I’m getting a drink of water,” Sookie told me, sounding more than a little bored.

  Sookie wandered off and I settled in, watching the practice. It was strangely fascinating. The Ghosts ran wildly across the field, stumbling over the ball, missing obvious shots, and no one could score, even though there wasn’t even a goalie.

  I didn’t get it – Darkmont had no soccer team, so the tryouts had a huge pool of the best athletes in town. How could these girls be so bad?

  “This field is dark, and the shadows keep getting in the way of the ball,” Amarjeet reasoned.

  So she noticed too, how it felt wrong – different – on this side of the school. The air smelled harsh and moldy, and the melodic music I always heard coming out of the school during practice was out of tune and jarring on this side. But that was only part of the problem. “These players don’t have any real sense of the game,” I observed.

  “That’s because Cindy says the school wants you and your friends,” Sookie interjected after wandering back to the bleachers. “You and your friends want to win more, and the school needs that kind of energy.” Sookie frowned and her face grew darker. In a worried voice she said, “But you can’t let that happen. You can’t win, no one can. Cindy would tell you that herself, but you don’t see her as well as I do. So she says you wouldn’t hear her very clearly either.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. Cindy, that’s what Sookie had called that weird goth girl back at the tryouts. Scanning the field, I said, “I don’t see her here, so exactly when were you talking to her?”

  “Just now,” Sookie said. “And at some of the other practices after Jasper dropped me off.” Sookie got a sly smile. “You don’t see everything up here on the hill. You hardly even notice me.”