Boys Against Girls (8 page)

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Authors: Phyllis Reynolds Naylor

BOOK: Boys Against Girls
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Caroline had done this as quickly as she could, but it took a long time, and before she could leave her room, even, Mother came up to check. She said Caroline had to go through the clothes in her closet as well, and sort out clean from dirty.

And then, when she had finally found the flashlight
and screwdriver and was on her way to the front door, a friend called from school and wanted to talk about the
stupidest
things—paper dolls of all the country singers, for heaven's sake.

Out the door at last. Down the steps. It was really getting cold now in Buckman, and she was glad she had thought to put on Beth's old jacket with the fur trim.

The sky was already gray, and Caroline was glad to see, as she crossed the large road bridge at the end of Island Avenue and headed toward Main Street, that the Hatford boys were nowhere in sight. If this was a trick, and there wasn't any trapdoor at Oldakers', she didn't want Wally laughing at her. If he and his brothers were in the store, she'd buy a book—any book—and pretend that's what she'd come for in the first place.

When she got to the store, she slipped the flashlight and screwdriver up one sleeve of her jacket and went inside, glad to get out of the chill. When the sun went down in West Virginia, it went in a hurry, as though there were just day and night, with not much evening in between.

It didn't take long to find the trapdoor. If you had been coming to Oldakers’ Bookstore for years and years you probably wouldn't even notice it anymore, but Caroline's eyes sought it out, and there it was, not too far from the cashier's counter.

There were customers ambling about, so Caroline strolled casually toward the back. The store was warm and welcoming, and she wondered why she hadn't been here before. She couldn't believe the large collection of children's books. It reminded her of the school library. There were books that made her laugh, like
Howling for Home.
There was a large tent for younger children, with many of the favorite picture books she had enjoyed when she was little—
Frog and Toad Are Friends
and
When the Relatives Came.

As soon as the space around the trapdoor was empty, Caroline walked over to see if the lid was screwed or bolted down. Wonder of wonders, there was nothing holding it at all. It was just sitting there, over the opening. Her heart began to race.

Was it possible that, for once in his life, Wally Hatford had been telling her the truth?

Now the problem was how to get through the trapdoor without anyone seeing. Customers called two different men “Mr. Oldaker,” so Caroline figured the owners were a young man and his father.

Since it was almost dinnertime, there were only a few customers in the store, and some of them were leaving. This could be her lucky day, Caroline thought. She hung around, moving slowly among the racks of new calendars, of notepaper and stationery, past the shelves of paperback books and dictionaries
and large flat books with beautiful pictures that people kept on their coffee tables back in Ohio.

“Well, Mike, I'm going to head home’ she heard the older Mr. Oldaker say to the other. ‘I'll set up that sale table, and there will be time tomorrow morning to put the merchandise on it.”

“Okay, then. I'll leave at six,” the younger man said, and after a little more talk with a woman who came in just then, the older man left.

“Do you have any books with photographs about the way Chinese children live?” the woman asked Mike Oldaker.

“Have you seen
City Kids in China?”
he suggested, and led her to the back of the store.

Caroline looked around. No one else was there.

She moved quickly over to the trapdoor and bent down, grasping the edge with her fingers. At first it didn't seem to move, and she was afraid it might be nailed shut after all, but was relieved to find she could lift it with both hands. She slid it off to one side.

Caroline could see narrow, steep stairs just inside. Before she could think of any reason she should not go, she started down, pulling the lid back over her as she moved down the stairs until she felt it settle into place above her head.

She stood very still, heart pounding, the damp,
musty smell of earth filling her nostrils, the cold of the ground seeping into her bones.

This is what it's like to be buried alive¡
she thought.
Buried Alive
, starring Caroline Lenore Malloy.

Any minute she expected the trapdoor above her to open and Mike Oldaker to stare down at her. But as she waited, the sound of footsteps grew louder from the back of the store, and passed right over her head. No one lifted the door.

Emboldened at last by the talk and laughter, the comings and goings above her head, Caroline turned on the flashlight and directed it to the bottom of the steep, narrow steps as she went on down.

There were cobwebs everywhere. Goose bumps rose on her arms. She was the daughter of a kind king but had an evil stepmother. And while her father was out of the country, the stepmother had her put in a dungeon, hoping she would die before her father returned.

At this point, Caroline knew, a sob should escape her lips. The books always said so, and Caroline practiced it, giving out soft little sobs that would not be heard from above, just tiny baby sobs as she moved on around the cellar, brushing cobwebs away from her face.

There were a few boxes on the dirt floor of the cellar, some wooden window frames standing on end, assorted junk, but mostly the place seemed unused
Any books stored here for long would become damp and moldy, Caroline was sure.

She started in one corner, working her way along, moving a box here, a crate there. The cellar wasn't as large as the floor above, so it did not take long for her to cover every foot of space with the beam of her flashlight. She was looking for bones—a piece of a skeleton sticking up out of the floor, perhaps. Something hidden that only Mr. Hatford and the Oldakers knew about. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Could they have dug up the bones and taken them somewhere else? Thrown them away? She began looking in all the boxes, but the boxes were empty.

What a disappointment¡ Well, Wally didn't have to know she'd come. If he ever told her again about the bones in the cellar of Oldakers', she'd just say, “Ha!” and not listen. But right now she was cold, and Mother was having chicken and dumplings for supper, her favorite. So Caroline went back to the stairs again, climbed up just far enough so that her hands would reach the trapdoor.

This would be the hard part. It was a lot easier getting
into
the cellar unseen than it would be getting
out.
She waited until the footsteps and voices went to the back of the store again. When she felt quite sure that no one was up there by the trapdoor, she put both hands against it and shoved. Nothing happened.

She frowned. Caroline turned on the flashlight to be sure it was the door she was pushing against. Then she turned off the light once more, stuck it again up the sleeve of her jacket, and braced the palms of her hands against the underside of the trap door. Caroline pushed with all her strength.

The door didn't budge. There must be a customer standing right there on top.

Thirteen
Alarm

      T
he boys took turns standing on it, two at a time, keeping as quiet as they could. Wally could feel the trapdoor moving slightly against the soles of his shoes. Any minute now Caroline would freak out. Any moment there would be a scream from under the floor and he and his brothers would look down as though they couldn't imagine where the sound was coming from.

Then Mike Oldaker would come over and lift the trapdoor, and Caroline would have to climb out, her face as red as Santa Claus's. And she'd have to explain that she was looking for abaguchie bones, and make a fool of herself, as usual.

Peter was at the back of the store, happily looking at picture books in the big indoor tent, and Wally was trying to pretend he was browsing. Women's socks and underwear in Larkin's, and now greeting
cards at Oldakers'. It was the only thing he was close to from where he stood on the trapdoor.

“Help you fellas?” Mike Oldaker asked, restocking a stationery shelf nearby.

“Just looking for a card for—for my dad’ Wally said quickly.

“Tom's sick, is he?”

“Hurt his knee,” Wally continued, one lie piling on top of another. “Thought maybe you had something funny.”

“The humorous cards are on the other side,” Mr. Oldaker said. “I'm going to close, now, in about five minutes.”

“Ill
take a look at them,” said Josh, and went around the rack.

With Josh gone Wally could really feel the trapdoor quiver beneath his feet and he expected a yell from Caroline. There was no sound from below, however, and he was disappointed. He wanted to be here when she came out.

“Six o'clock, boys. Store's closing,” Mike Oldaker called.

“Come on, Peter, we're going home. Maybe I'll just make Dad a card myself,” Josh told the owner.

Peter came sauntering to the door, running his finger along the display shelf, humming to himself, and at last the four boys said good-night and went out.

Peter stopped. “Hey¡ What about—?”

Wally clapped one hand over his mouth.

“Did she come out?” Peter whispered, wriggling free.

“No. She will when we're gone, though. Man, wouldn't you like to see her face when Oldaker sees her crawl up out of the cellar?”

They wanted to stay at the window and watch, but Mike Oldaker was looking at them, and besides, they'd be late for dinner as it was.


At home, as expected, Mother had dinner on the table. “Now, you
know
when we sit down to eat,” she said to all four. “If I can go to the trouble to get food on the table, you can go to the wee bit of trouble it takes to get here on time.”

Wally slid into his chair and stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth to show he was eating, and the meal began.

“Got the strangest call about a half hour ago,” Mr. Hatford said, passing the pork chops. “Mr. Larkin called and asked how my knee was doing. Said he could drop off an elastic sleeve for it on his way home if I'd just give him the measurements. I told him he must have the wrong knee, ‘cause mine were fine, and he said he guessed he'd misunderstood. Now, who do you suppose goes around talking about my knees?”

Mother burst into laughter. “Must be those shorts you wear in the summertime with your uniform, Tom. People see those knees of yours and figure they need all the help they can get”

Whew¡ Wally swallowed again, and this time there wasn't even any food in his mouth.

The phone rang again, and Mrs. Hatford got up, looking annoyed.

“Those people who call during the dinner hour!” she muttered. “If it's a salesman, Tom, I swear I'm going to hang up on him.” She picked up the telephone on the wall. “Yes?”

Wally ate his potatoes next, and expected to hear the slam of the receiver as Mother hung up. Instead, he heard her voice saying, “Why, I'm not sure, Eddie. Let me check.”

Mrs. Hatford turned to the others at the table. “It's Eddie Malloy, and she wants to know whether any of us have seen Caroline. She specifically asked if you had, Wally. Evidently she left without saying where she was going, and Eddie thought you might know where she is. They're worried.”

Wally's mouth dropped open. Hadn't Caroline crawled out yet? Maybe she fell backward down the steps and had a brain concussion. Maybe she figured she was buried alive, and died of fright. Maybe there really
was
an abaguchie down there, and—

“Wally? Have you seen her?”

“At—at school,” said Wally.

“And you haven't seen her since?”

“Maybe I did see her downtown, walking along Main Street.” Wally turned to his brothers. “Did we see Caroline on Main Street?”

“Yeah, I think that was her walking toward Oldakers'.”

Mother glanced over at Peter, who was sitting with his lips pressed tightly together, staring down at the table.

“Did
you
see her, Peter?”

He shook his head, lips pressed even tighter.

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