Andi Unexpected (9 page)

There was a knock on the front door
a little after eight the next morning. Colin stood on the other side of the door wearing his hazmat suit.

“Hi. I’m surprised you’re here,” I said.

“I’m here to help with the attic. I said I would help.” He acted sheepish.

I folded my arms. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. It’s close to being done now. I can do the rest by myself.”

“Listen, Andi,” Colin said. “I’m sorry about how I acted yesterday. I know what Bergita would have thought if she’d seen it.”

“I have a few guesses, too.” I dropped my arms to my sides.

He swallowed. “I’m not included in a lot of stuff. You know, at school. The kids just think I’m some weird nerd who hangs out with his grandmother and
her friends.” He reddened. “So when you didn’t ask me to follow Dr. Girard, I thought that maybe you … had come to the same conclusion.”

I thought about what it must be like to be an only child whose parents are gone all the time. Even when they were still alive, my parents weren’t around that often. But at least I’d had Bethany. She wasn’t much of a companion to me now, but we’d been closer when we were younger. And even now, she was at least someone close to my age.

I grinned at Colin and hoped the grin was enough to let him know that I’d forgiven him. I spun around, leaving the door opened behind me. “You coming or what? The attic won’t clean itself.”

At precisely two o’clock, the doorbell rang. This time I peered through the peephole first and saw Dr. Girard standing on the other side of the door, holding a brown leather briefcase in his hand. “It’s him,” I told Amelie and Colin.

I opened the door.

“Andi,” he greeted me. “It’s so good to see you again. Let’s go straight to the attic, shall we?”

Amelie looked like she was about to say something, so I jumped in, “Okay.” The sooner I showed Dr. Girard the trunk and its contents, the sooner he would tell me what he knew about Andora. At least I hoped he would.

Since space in the attic was tight for more than three people, Amelie volunteered to stay behind. The rest of
us trooped upstairs. I climbed up the attic ladder first, followed by Dr. Girard and then Colin. The older man knocked his head on the side of the hatch and swore under his breath. I covered my mouth to keep from laughing, but Colin laughed from below.

Once upright, Dr. Girard ducked to avoid the low spots in the ceiling.

Bright sunlight poured into the attic through the open and recently washed window. I grimaced as I remembered how it took us ten attempts with glass cleaner and about forty paper towels to remove the grime off the glass. A light breeze floated in through the window, but the attic still felt stuffy. I switched the knobs on the fans to maximum power. Dr. Girard tugged at his button-down collar.

“Here’s what we found,” I said.

I showed Dr. Girard the little blue trunk, which I’d placed on a small end table. He pulled a pair of reading glasses out of his shirt pocket and slid them onto the bridge of his nose. Gently, he lifted out the china doll and placed her on the table beside the trunk. Then he examined the clothes and the wooden blocks.

“Where’d you find it?”

Colin pointed to the cubby door and then opened it by tugging on the string we’d looped through the space where a doorknob had once been. Dr. Girard squatted in front of the cubby, and Colin handed him a flashlight. I sat on top of a nearby dresser and waited.

“So, someone hid the trunk,” Dr. Girard murmured with a small smile. After a few minutes, during which he knocked on all of the walls inside the
cubby and felt around the dusty floor, he leaned back on his heels. Then Dr. Girard stood and wiped his hands on the clean rag that Colin offered to him. His mouth was turned down. “You didn’t find anything else in there?” he asked, swiping a dust bunny off his knee.

I thought about the framed photograph of Andora sitting on my nightstand downstairs.

“This is all
we
found,” Colin said.

I smiled at him gratefully. I had been alone when I found the photograph of Andora, and so what Colin said was technically the truth.

Dr. Girard walked back to the end table. “These items are certainly consistent with the time period.” The professor hunched over the small trunk like a vulture. Then he straightened as a peculiar look crossed his face.

The look passed quickly, and I wondered if I’d just imagined it.

“Are you sure you don’t have
anything else
to show me?” He turned from me to Colin and back again.

“We’re sure.” I would make a decision about showing him the photograph and telling him about Miss Addy after he told me what he knew, not before. It was Dr. Girard’s turn to share some information with Colin and me.

Dr. Girard picked up the china doll, turned her over, and looked under her dress as if instead of doll-sized pantaloons, the skirt might be hiding some great secret to Andora’s identity. He placed the doll back inside the trunk on top of the baptismal gown.

“This is going to be harder than I thought.” He scowled. “I expected more.”

“We have more than you do,” I shot back, feeling defensive. “Do you think you can use Andora for the book?”

“We will discuss what I know downstairs.”

Amelie was waiting in the living room with chai tea, pita chips, and hummus. Dr. Girard turned down the snack, but Colin dug in heartily. I didn’t feel hungry, and chai gave me a stomachache. Between bites, Colin made notes in our casebook.

Dr. Girard sat on the edge of the couch and opened his briefcase. He pulled out a file. “I have a small housekeeping detail to take care of before we move forward. I spoke to my agent about the prospect of including Andora in my book. She faxed an agreement over this morning.” He pulled a silver, expensive-looking pen from his shirt pocket. “Andi, since you’re a minor and Amelie is your legal guardian, you’ll both have to sign the form.”

“What kind of agreement?” Amelie asked.

I sat beside him on the flowered sofa. He flipped through the form’s pages and pointed to the line where I should sign. I’d never signed anything so official before. I didn’t think the back of my library card counted.

“Hold on a minute,” Amelie said. “Let me read that first.”

Reluctantly, Dr. Girard handed Amelie the documents.

Mr. Rochester jumped onto the back of the couch
behind Dr. Girard. He cocked his head. I’d seen that same expression on his face before he pounced on his toy mouse. I reached behind me and moved the cat to my lap. Dr. Girard’s lip curled and he scooted away from us.
Great, he doesn’t like kids or animals
.

Amelie’s eyes narrowed as they moved across the pages. “If I understand this correctly, you’re asking for exclusive rights to this story. In other words, legally we can’t give our consent to anyone else to write about it.”

Dr. Girard sighed. “All due respect, Professor, but I don’t think that’s unreasonable.”

“How long does this agreement last?”

He cleared his throat. “There is no set ending date.”

Amelie’s jaw tensed. “What if when Andi is an adult she wants to write about her experiences trying to uncover Andora’s identity?”

“Really, is that very likely?” He looked at me and smiled. “What child would be interested in writing about history?”

“Andi might be, and I don’t want to hold her back by signing something when she is only eleven years old and not ready to make that decision.”

Dr. Girard’s tone was hard now and he flushed. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. This is a standard agreement. As the author, I have rights to the story.”

“And as relatives of Andora, we have rights to the story too. We need time to think this over. I’ll have my lawyer take a look at it. And I’m sure we can come to an agreement by making some simple changes to the wording of this document.”

“Amelie, I want—” I started to say that I just wanted to know about Andora. I didn’t care about signing the paper.

Dr. Girard snatched the pages from Amelie’s hand. “Really, Amelie. I’ve written two books and been published in dozens of journals. This is a standard agreement. I’ve never felt so insulted.”

“That may be true,” Amelie replied, her voice calm. “But you cannot object to me having my lawyer look it over. It is a legally binding document, isn’t it?”

Dr. Girard stood abruptly. “This conversation is over. I don’t need your permission to write about this mysterious relative of yours. I was doing you a favor by including you.”

I jumped up. “But you haven’t told us anything yet.”

“Nor will I, under these circumstances. Andi, you have your aunt to thank for that.”

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Amelie’s voice was cold.

Dr. Girard glowered. “Very well.”

Colin jumped out of the armchair, sending pita chips tumbling to the floor. Mr. Rochester hissed at Dr. Girard with eyes wide and back arched.

The history professor glared at us all in turn, including Mr. Rochester, who hissed at him a second time. “Don’t stand in my way,” he warned. “There’s a big story here, and I will get to the bottom of it with or without your help.” He stomped out of the living room, yanked the front door open, and slammed it shut behind him.

When he was gone, I turned to my aunt. “How could you do that? He was going to tell us about Andora!”

Amelie’s face fell. “Andi, I—”

“Now, we’ll never know what happened to her.”

“Andi, I had to protect you. That’s my job.”

“From what? A piece of paper? I don’t care about that contract thing.”

“You might not now, but you will someday. Let’s …”

Before she could finish her sentence, I stomped out of the room.

A day later, I sat at the picnic table
in the backyard, reading over the casebook and stewing over Dr. Girard’s words. Could he really steal Andora’s story? Amelie told me he could write about Andora whether or not we signed the agreement. But she said it was good thing we didn’t sign because her lawyer informed her that Dr. Girard’s reaction sounded fishy. I still wished we’d signed it. Maybe then I’d know what Dr. Girard knows about Andora.

The telephone rang inside the house. Seconds later, Bethany poked her head out the back door. “It’s for you. Some old guy.”

Without thinking, I clenched my hands into fists, as if I were getting ready to punch someone. It was probably Dr. Girard calling to convince Amelie to sign the contract. When I didn’t jump up and get the
phone, Bethany placed it on a plastic chair by the back door. “You know, Andi, pouting won’t finish cleaning out the attic or help you find Andora.” She went back inside.

Said the Queen of the Pouters
, I thought. I jumped off the picnic table and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Andi, it’s Patrick Finnigan from the Historical Society.”

“Oh hi, Mr. Finnigan,” I said, my voice guarded. I remembered that he was the one who’d told Dr. Girard about our search for Andora.

“Amelie called and told me what happened yesterday,” he said. “She wasn’t very happy with me. And she had every right to be upset. I shouldn’t have sent Dr. Girard to you.”

“That’s okay, Mr. Finnigan.” I could imagine his black mustache drooping.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known he’d be more interested in getting the story than in helping you kids.”

I held the phone up to my ear and waited.

“It’s just that … he’s … he’s so well known. I thought that if Dr. Girard wrote a definitive work about Killdeer history, it would put our little museum and historical society on the map. With the right recognition, we’d have a better chance to get some grant money or even a few visitors.”

I still didn’t say anything. My mom and dad applied for tons of research grants to fund their botany lab. It always seemed like a lot of work to me.

“Anyway, I fully deserved Amelie’s reprimands. Please allow me to make amends.”

“Okay.”

“Are you still interested in finding out more about Andora?”

“Yes!” I replied quickly.

Just then, Colin walked into the backyard and waved. I put my finger to my lips.

“Miss Addy is a good friend of mine,” Mr. Finnigan said.

I sat up straighter and flashed Colin a thumbs-up. “Miss Addy?”

Colin sat next to me on the picnic bench and leaned in close to hear the other side of the conversation.

“I’ve interviewed her many times for the museum archives. In fact, I saw her just yesterday, and she told me that you’d asked her about Andora.”

I held my breath. “You didn’t tell Dr. Girard that, did you?”

“No. Thankfully, I kept that bit of information to myself.” He spoke faster now, “I explained to Miss Addy why you’re so interested in the name
Andora
and what you found in the attic. I hope that’s okay.” He paused. I heard the worry in his voice again.

“Yes, that’s fine,” I assured him. I wished he would get to the point. Colin looked prepared to grab the phone out of my hand. I scooted away from him just to be safe.

Mr. Finnigan chuckled. “You’re lucky she detests Girard. When I told her what happened between the two of you, she was fit to be tied.”

I held my breath.

“She has agreed to meet with you and asked me to
invite you to have tea at her home on Friday afternoon at four o’clock. I’ll be there as well.”

“And she’ll answer any questions I have about Andora?”

“I think she will, Andi, but you have to let Miss Addy tell her story in her own time. She won’t have it any other way. That’s what got Dr. Girard in trouble. He wanted her to drive straight to the heart of the story. He wasn’t interested in hearing about her impressions.”

“Can Colin come too?”

Colin nodded so hard beside me, I thought his head would snap right off his neck.

“I thought you might ask that, and I’ve already arranged it with her. Be there early. Miss Addy doesn’t tolerate lateness. She lives just a few blocks away from you. Colin knows where it is.”

“Thanks, Mr. Finnigan.”

“You’re welcome. Again, I apologize for Dr. Girard’s behavior.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, and this time I meant it.

As I carried an old baby stroller into the garage, I stopped in my tracks and gaped. Bethany was standing in the middle of the room, writing prices on stickers and placing them on items—everything from old Barbie dolls to window frames. But what really surprised me was the state of the stuff. All of the items were unpacked and organized by category in neat piles all around the garage. When the sale finally started at the
end of the week, all we’d have to do is open the garage door and let the shoppers come inside.

I picked my jaw off the floor. “What happened in here?”

Bethany looked up from the coffee mugs she’d been pricing at twenty-five cents each. “What?”

“It’s so neat and organized. You did this just today?”

She shrugged. “While you and Colin have been working up in the attic, I’ve been out here doing this. It’s no big deal. Where is he anyway?”

“Still in the attic. I think we can start moving some of my stuff up there tomorrow.”

“Good. Be sure to move that poster first.”

I chewed my lip. “How is Zane?”

She glared at me. “That’s none of your business.”

“You haven’t said anything about him since we moved here. I’ve been wondering what’s going on.”

“Just leave that baby stroller anywhere.” Her face appeared pinched. “I have to go inside for a minute.”

She ran out of the garage and almost knocked over Bergita who was on her way in. Bergita didn’t try to stop Bethany. “She didn’t look too happy,” she said, placing a roll of price stickers on one of the long tables. “I brought her some more stickers.”

I put the stroller in the front corner of the garage next to a pair of roller skates. “She’s never happy.”

“You might want to cut Bethany some slack. Moving here has been hard for her. It’s a lot of change in a short period of time.”

I frowned. “And it’s been easy for me? I lost my parents too. I moved to a new place too.”

“You did. But you’re a different person and handle it differently. I think your sister has realized that you’re tougher than she is.”

“But I’m not.” I tapped my toe against the wheel of the stroller. “And I wasn’t our parents’ favorite either. I heard her tell you that I was.”

Bergita stuck her hands into her shorts pockets. “Eavesdropping?”

“Not on purpose.”

“Ah, well, what your sister believes about how your parents felt is her issue, not yours. You need to give her time to work through it.”

“In the meantime, she hates me,” I said barely above a whisper.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s jealous of you—and not just because of your parents.”

I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but she continued talking before I had the chance.

“Give her some time and space. But most of all, pray for her.”

What Bergita didn’t know was that I’d given up praying the day my parents died.

Over the next two days, I avoided my sister as much as possible while waiting anxiously for Friday, the day Colin and I were finally going to meet with Miss Addy. Colin and I spent most of that time in the attic. Once we’d finally cleared out everything I didn’t want to keep, which was most of it, we had the dirty task of scrubbing the floorboards and walls. Because of his
asthma, Colin had to take frequent breaks to get away from the smell.

Amelie took us to the hardware store to pick out some paint to replace the sailboat wallpaper. I settled on sky blue because it reminded me of the color of the Central American sky my father had talked so much about.

When taking breaks from the cleaning and painting, Colin and I read everything we could find at the public library and on the Internet about the 1930s and the Great Depression.

According to what we read, on December 16, 1929, which was the day Andora came into this world, the United States was in turmoil. The stock market had crashed in late October of that year, on a day that would be forever called Black Tuesday. Immediately after the Crash, people ran to their banks to withdraw all of their money. But for many, it was too late and they lost a fortune.

With no money to cover the payroll, businesses laid off workers by the hundreds. The worst of the layoffs came in 1933, but they started as early as late 1929 when Andora was born. Men and women woke up every morning well before sunrise to go out and look for work.

Even in rural areas like Killdeer, the Depression had a devastating effect. People could no longer afford to buy fresh fruits and vegetables, which meant the farmers’ prices dropped dramatically. Acres of crops were left to rot in the fields and orchards because no one bought the produce.

Colin and I were sitting side by side on a paint-spattered tarp in the middle of the attic, as Colin read aloud to me from his iPad. Mr. Rochester sat at the edge of the tarp trying to flick blue paint from his paws. I’d told him to stay away from that paint tray.

“Listen to this,” Colin said. “Children were the most severely harmed by the Crash. Many parents turned kids out of their homes because they could no longer feed their children. Some children found jobs in factories but worked in terrible conditions.”

“Let me see.”

He handed me the tablet computer, and I scrolled down through the article. “Here’s something.” I read aloud, “Sometimes parents sent their younger children to live in orphanages or with family members who weren’t as severely impacted by the Depression.”

“Do you think that’s what happened to Andora?” Colin pushed his glasses up higher on his nose with his thumb.

“I hope Miss Addy can tell us.”