Haunted Waters (3 page)

Chapter 6

I was never so happy to get home in my life.
Mom stood by the front door with a smile. She hugged me, then nodded at the snow shovel by the front porch. “How was your day, Bryce?”

I shrugged.

“He almost got beat up,” Ashley said.

“I did not.” I gave Ashley a dagger stare.

“How’s your book coming, Mom?” Ashley said.

“I’m getting there.”

My mom’s a writer and works while we’re at school and when she’s not driving Dylan to somebody’s house to play or picking him up from preschool. She writes novels under the name Virginia Caldwell, which I think is cool. Lots of people read the books but have no idea she’s the one who writes them.

“Where’s Sam?” I said.

“In his office.”

I sprinted out back to the old barn with Ashley at my heels. It had been built something like a hundred years ago, and the bottom level looks like a movie set from one of those old Westerns you see on Nickelodeon. We don’t have any horses, but old saddles still hang on the walls and a few bales of hay are scattered around.

A staircase covered in carpet leads up the wall, and there are pictures of famous people who have ridden in Sam’s planes. He’s been the pilot for movie stars, athletes, authors, and politicians. They pay him, and that’s how he makes money. Most of the pictures are signed by these people and say things like, “Thanks, Sam, you’re the best” and “Great flight, you’re the best.” Some of the movie stars have asked him to work for them full time, but Sam says he likes his freedom.

I burst into the office without knocking to find him on the phone with his feet up on his desk. The office is half the size of the entire stable, with a countertop that runs around the walls. There are filing cabinets and drawers everywhere, a big bookcase, a ceiling fan, and little helicopters and planes here and there. From the front window you can see our house, the red rock formation in the distance, and due south, the snowy cap of Pikes Peak.

On the other side of the office is a bathroom with a shower and an exercise room. When we moved in, Sam bought a little TV with some video games so Ashley and I could play.

Sam put a finger to his lips and kept talking. He has a deep, growly voice, something between a bear and a football announcer, and he talks slowly. “Okay, that sounds good. What time do you need to be in Aspen?”

Ashley sat in a huge leather chair and put her feet up like she owned the place. The leather creaked as she tilted back and smiled. I almost forgot Boo Heckler.

Chapter 7

Sam hung up and faced Bryce and me.
“How would you two like to go on a little trip with me?”

“To Aspen?” I said.

“No, that’s Monday. I saw this in the paper today and thought you and Bryce might like a little Colorado educational experience. How would you like to see a vug?”

“A what?” I said.

He handed me a clipping from the local paper, the
Red Rock Post
, and Bryce knelt beside me. We read the headline out loud: “‘Historic Vug On Display in Gold Town.’”

Bryce hit my arm and said, “Slug-vug, no slug backs.”

It was so corny I had to laugh.

A re-creation of a hidden golden chamber discovered in the early 1900s will be on display this weekend along with a rare gold nugget.

One of the most impressive exhibits in the newly created Gold Town shows tourists what miners saw when they blasted into a hollow area and discovered gold and crystals sparkling on the walls. Also on display will be a priceless gold nugget in its original form.

“You know how much Dylan talks about those old mines,” Sam said. “Thought I’d take him along too.”

“What about Mom?” I said.

“She’s trying to complete her book. I told her she could have a weekend alone—at least mostly alone. Leigh’s finishing her driving course.”

Bryce shrugged. “I have a basketball game Saturday.”

“I’ve already talked with your coach,” Sam said, then looked at me. “And Mom says there’s no dance lesson until next week.”

Bryce frowned. “I don’t know if I want to go all that way just to look at a hole and a nugget.”

“That’s just part of the trip,” Sam said. “A businessman I flew a couple of weeks ago offered us his cabin this weekend. The vug display is close. Plus, there’s hiking, skiing, and tubing if the weather cooperates.”

“Is the cabin ‘rustic’?” I said. “Because every time I’ve been in a cabin somebody said was ‘rustic,’ I’ve sneezed my head off from all the dust.”

“You’ve been to one cabin in your life,” Bryce said.

Sam chuckled. “I’ve never been to this place, but my friend said it has a hot tub, satellite TV—the works. Doesn’t sound rustic, and I don’t think you’ll have to worry about dust.”

“Do we have to babysit?” I said.

“No, I’ll take care of Dylan. You two can wander off on your own.”

Bryce glanced at me with wide eyes. I could tell he was looking for any excuse to get away from Red Rock and the shadow of Boo Heckler.

To be honest, skiing, tubing, and hiking are nice, but I like being inside, curling up with a good book or watching a movie. But since coming to Colorado I’ve developed more of a taste for adventure.

“Let’s do it,” I said.

Chapter 8

“Can you pass the potatoes, Bryce?”
Leigh said.

I handed her the basket of wedges, and she threw a few on her plate and squirted some ketchup. “Nothing like a home-cooked meal,” she said with a smirk.

Sam raised his eyebrows at her, but she kept her head down.

“Sorry about the takeout,” Mom said. “I’ve been trying to finish this book.”

“I like the chicken,” Dylan said, pulling the skin from a piece and stuffing it in his mouth. Dylan is a world champion chicken-skin eater. I don’t think he’s eaten a piece of meat in his life, but he eats the skin like it’s candy.

A horn honked, and Leigh stood and looked in a mirror. She has long, brown hair and a nice smile like her real mom. I’ve seen the picture she keeps in her bedroom. It’s been tough for her to get used to having the four of us in her territory. And with Mom becoming a Christian and Leigh and her dad not, well, it’s made for interesting conversations.

“Is that The Creep?” I whispered to Ashley, craning my neck to see out the window.

“Stop calling him that,” Leigh said.

“Oh, he doesn’t mean it in a bad way,” Ashley said. “We think he’s a nice creep.”

Dylan snatched another chicken skin and ran toward the door, crumbs scattering on the carpet. “The Creep!” he yelled.

“Dad!” Leigh said, dragging a brush through her hair.

Mom collared Dylan and brought him back to the table, clearing her throat and glaring at Ashley and me.

“Sorry,” Ashley said.

“Why don’t you ask Randy to come in and have some chicken?” Sam said.

“No way,” Leigh said. “He’s helping me practice parallel parking.”

Sam followed her outside and returned a few minutes later with Randy.

Leigh bit her lip and plopped into a chair while Mom grabbed another plate.

“So, how’s baseball season?” I said.

“Pretty good,” Randy said, taking a bite. “This is excellent chicken, Mrs. Timberline.”

“Thank the colonel,” Leigh said.

Sam gave Leigh another look, and she passed the gravy.

“Leigh tells me you and your sister get to drive those four-wheelers to school. Pretty cool.”

“Yeah, we think so. How’s Leigh’s driving?”

He took a biscuit. “I’m going to have her parking on a postage stamp. She’s doing great.”

Dylan stared at Randy’s cutoff shirt and his underarm. I tried to get Dylan’s attention, but he kept looking. Finally he said, “You have hair under there.”

“Okay, time to go,” Leigh said.

Randy laughed, took the chicken with him, and thanked Mom again.

Sam looked at Ashley and me like he wanted to say something. I felt bad about calling Randy names.

Dylan snagged another chicken skin and smiled. “Dessert.”

Chapter 9

While Bryce watched a hockey game with Sam,
Mom drove me to my friend Hayley’s house. I’ve known Hayley since starting at Red Rock Middle School. She and her family have visited our church, Mountain View Chapel, but they haven’t come for a while. I’m pretty sure Hayley’s not a Christian.

I expected Mom to lecture me about Leigh and Randy, but she didn’t say a word, which was even more upsetting. I’d rather be yelled at when I deserve it than get the silent treatment. Plus, if you’re yelled at, you can say you’re sorry, cry, and get some sympathy.

I told Mom I’d call when we were through with our social studies project (which was basically an excuse for us to get together, because it wasn’t due until a week from Monday). I waved as she drove away, but she didn’t look back.

Hayley met me at the door, and we went to her kitchen. The house was quiet. She said her parents had gone out to dinner, which was okay, but I had told Mom they would be here.

“I want to watch the rest of a movie,” Hayley said. “Come on. There’s only about 15 minutes left.”

I thought about calling Mom, because that was our agreement. If I wanted to watch something I’d never seen, I needed to check in. But Hayley got two cans of Coke from the refrigerator and headed for the living room so fast I didn’t have time to think.

“It’s a love story,” Hayley said. “Don’t you just love love stories?”

“Sure.”

But what came on the TV wasn’t what I expected. The language was worse than at the construction site Bryce and I used to walk past in Chicago. Hayley didn’t seem to mind, and though I thought about leaving the room, I felt glued to my chair, embarrassed.

The language got worse, and then the shooting started. Blood flew everywhere. I almost couldn’t look, but Hayley just stared.

A few minutes later a car pulled up. Hayley turned the TV off and hurried to the kitchen. It was her older sister.

I felt bad because I hadn’t stopped watching the movie. I was mixed up and didn’t know what to do.

When Hayley’s sister went upstairs, Hayley asked if I wanted to watch the rest of the movie.

“Nah. I’d rather work on the project.”