Jenny Pox (The Paranormals, Book 1) (22 page)

Jenny nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t forget to take a cookie.”

Jenny picked out an angel-shaped sugar cookie with gold and red sprinkles.  She thanked Ms. Sutland for it, and bit its head off as she walked to the door.  It was soft and delicious.

“Merry Christmas, Jenny!” Ms. Sutland called after her. “And tell your daddy I said the same to him.”

“
I will, Ms. Sutland.  Merry Christmas.”  The cluster of bells jangled as Jenny pushed the door open into cool, crisp air outside.

“
Jenny!” Ms. Sutland called after her. Jenny turned back to see the elderly woman’s impish grin. “One more thing.  Be spectacular.  Make the boy see how foolish he was to walk away from you.”

***

Jenny brought two cardboard boxes of decorations down from the attic.  She hung a strand of fat colored lights across the front porch and a wreath on the front door.  Inside, she set out what they had on tables and countertops—a Rudolph figure with a light-up nose; a Santa Claus in his sleigh with his boots propped up, taking a nap; a little nativity scene Jenny had made many years ago out of Popsicle sticks, cotton balls, and pipe cleaners.  There were some ornaments, including a big plastic snowflake frame with an old picture of both her parents, but they never put up a Christmas tree because her dad said it was a waste of a living thing.  So Jenny hung ornaments on the walls and from the ceiling instead.

She tacked the big plaid stockings to the mantle, one labeled “Jenny” and one labeled “Daddy,” both labels drawn by her with glue and glitter.  She decided to make one for Rocky, too.

As she decorated, she turned over in her mind the things Mrs. Sutland had said to her.  Jenny couldn’t really believe that the time she and Seth had spent together was really just an act, put on by Seth while he tricked her.  On the other hand, she found it even more difficult to believe that Ashleigh, too, had an unusual power, one that made people feel love.  It sounded like a lot for just one little town way out in the country.

While Ashleigh did seem to wield some kind of power over Seth, Jenny didn’t see any reason to think it was supernatural.  The real explanation was probably a lot more down to earth, and could be found inside Seth’s boxer shorts.

Mrs. Sutland had a point.  Boys could be stolen, and stolen back.  It happened in movies all the time.  If what Jenny had seen in him was even a little true, he might be worth one more try. 

She wouldn’t see him until school started, which was two weeks (an eternity) away.  She could call him and invite him over, give him one more chance, but that didn’t seem like the best way.  It was the opposite of spectacular. 

Ms. Sutland’s advice inspired Jenny’s crazy idea.  Each year, the Barretts had a lavish Christmas party, attended by all the big people in town and guests from all over the place.  Their house would be open, and Seth would be home, and Jenny would have her chance to be spectacular. 

The Mortons weren’t invited, naturally, but Jenny knew the date of the party—this Saturday, a little more than a week before Christmas.  She knew that because her dad was at Barrett House right now, helping to install new lighting and make some fixes before the big event.  If Mr. Barrett was in from Florida yet, he’d send her dad home with a big bottle of good Scotch.

Jenny went into her dad’s bedroom closet and found her mother’s jewelry box on the back shelf.  Jenny hadn’t opened it in years.  She blew dust from the hand carved roses on the lid, then gently raised it up.

She saw her mother’s wedding ring, gold-plated with a microscopic diamond.  She touched it briefly, felt a rising sense of loss, and quickly turned her attention to the other compartments.  She found what she was looking for, the silver necklace with sapphires, and the matching earrings.  Jenny lifted these out, admired them for a little while, then carried them into the kitchen.  She cleaned them until the silver glowed and the sapphires twinkled like tiny blue stars.

She returned to the closet and took down one of her mother’s two good dresses, the one that wasn’t her wedding gown.  This dress was a shade of blue her mother had clearly chosen to match the sapphires.  All the blue was aimed at bringing out Miriam’s eyes, the same eyes Jenny had inherited.

Jenny spread the dress and jewelry across her bed.  She would need to spend time at the sewing machine, bringing the dress in to fit her, and she saw a couple of alterations that she thought would improve it.  The dress dipped down in the front, and way down in the back, so she’d need something extra to protect people from her skin.  And she would need shoes, since her feet were a two sizes larger than her mother’s.  But she could make it work.

When her dad arrived home, Jenny asked him a lot of questions about his day, pretending she was just interested in how the inside of Barrett House looked, which was a frequent topic of gossip around town. 

“
Got the inside all squared away,” he said. “The problem’s outside.  That damned fountain.  Every December, I’m out there scraping away ivy and trying to get that pump going again.  And every year this pipe or that pipe’s clogged or broke.”

“
What about the security guard?” Jenny asked. “Does he have a booth?”

“
What do you mean?”

“
Isn’t there some guard or somebody checking invitations?  Making sure nobody sneaks in?”

“
Not that I know of.  They don’t have no guard booth, Jenny.  Where’d you get that idea?”
“I always imagine one inside that gate,” Jenny lied.

“
They usually got valets to park the cars,” he said. “I guess they feel safe enough just having Chief Lintner at the party.”

“
What kind of food do they have at their parties?” she asked, then listened indifferently while he speculated at length about the caterers and the open bar.

Later, Jenny went outside to start her regular jog with Rocky.  She stopped and considered the old Dodge Ram for a minute.  It was mammoth-sized, noisy, and stained with years of mud and rust. Jenny imagined herself driving up to the front door of Barrett House and handing her keys to the valet.  The old truck wasn’t exactly going to make the impact she wanted.  She thought this over while running through the woods with her very fast, very four-legged dog.

The next day, while her dad was at work, Jenny opened the drawer in the end table by the couch.  She pulled out the spiral-bound notebook full of yellowed paper that her dad had long used as his personal phone and address book.  She flipped through carefully, trying not to rip the stiff old paper.  It was somewhat alphabetical.  It took her a long few minutes to find the number she wanted: Merle Sanderson – Home.

Merle was around sixty-five years old, one of the men who’d come to the house on Thanksgiving to drink and watch football with her dad.  He was a heavyset guy with a big gray walrus mustache, who lived alone way out on Hog Willow Road, except for his five adopted stray mutts, each of whom, he liked to claim, had moved in under false pretenses.

Merle had once owned the garage in town where Jenny’s dad had worked, in those old days when Jenny hadn’t been born yet and the town was much busier.  The garage hadn’t survived the slow, constant drain as more people moved away over the years, taking their cars and their money with them. 

Now Merle did the same work out of his house, and he was known for all the old cars parked every which way in his yard, most of them up on blocks.  He didn’t have many neighbors, just the McNare farm, and their house was far away from his.

Jenny steeled herself and dialed his number.

“
Y’ello?” he answered.

“
Hey, Mr. Sanderson,” Jenny said. “It’s Jenny Morton.  Darrell’s daughter.”

“
Well, hey there, Jenny.” Merle’s voice was full of concern. “Is everything all right?  Your daddy okay?”

“
Oh, everything’s fine, Mr. Sanderson.  I just was going to ask you a question, if you have time.”

“
I surely do.  And nobody’s hurt?  Nobody in jail?”

“
No, sir, nothing like that.”

“
Oh, all right.  Then what’s on your mind, Miss Jenny?”

“
I was wondering, if I could ask…You see, I was needing a car for a little bit, and wondered if you had one I could rent.  Just for a night or so.”

“
I sure don’t,” he said.

“
Oh.”

“
I would not take a penny from your hand, little girl.  Have your daddy bring you up and you can borrow it, free and clear.”

“
Really?” Jenny was completely surprised by the offer. “Oh, thank you, Mr. Sanderson!  That’s so generous!”

“
Shoot, that ain’t nothing.  I still owe your daddy his last paycheck from sixteen years ago.  Come by any day but Thursday, that’s the Colombo marathon on the TV.”

“
Oh, we will!  Thank you so much!”

“
Wait until you see the car, before all that,” he said. “Anything else I can do for you?”

“
You’ve done a lot!  Thanks!”

“
All right.  Call and let me know when you’re on the way.  I’ll clean her up for you.”

“
You don’t need to do that!”

“
Bye, now.” He hung up on her.

***

“Why you borrowing a car from Merle, again?” Jenny’s dad asked as he drove along Hog Willow Road, which was just an unlined strip of blacktop surrounded by low farmland and pasture. 

“
Because there’s this fancy dress party Saturday night,” Jenny said. “It’s the whole senior class, so I guess they figured it was easier to invite me than leave me out.”  She felt awful lying to her dad, but he would never knowingly allow her to crash the Barretts’ party, much less help her do it.

“
You could borrow the truck Saturday night,” he said. “Just drop me at McCronkin’s.  I’ll get a ride home.”

“
That’s the thing, Daddy.  I just thought it would be fun to show up in my own car.  People kind of laugh at me when they see me driving this.”

“
I didn’t know that,” he said. “Why would they do a thing like that?”

“
I don’t mind it, really,” she said. “They’ll laugh at me for anything.  I just thought—since it’s in front of everybody at once—”

“
And you just called him up and asked to borrow a car?”

“
No, I offered to rent and he said I could use it free.”

“
See, that’s just the kind of thing put the garage out of business,” he said. “Merle’s too generous with folks, and the garage was always in debt.  Did you know he still owes me my last paycheck from sixteen years ago?”

Merle Sanderson’s place looked a lot like theirs: way out from town, close to nobody, but with a front yard full of automobiles instead of appliances.  The house had peeling paint and looked like it was leaning a little bit to one side.

Merle walked up the dirt driveway to greet them, rubbing his hands on a black-stained hand towel that had once been yellow. 

“
I’d shake your hands, but I don’t recommend it,” he said.  A layer of dark grease coated his face and shirt.  Jenny beamed at him, relieved she wouldn’t have to risk one of her awkward, ducking hugs where she spent all her time trying not to kill the other person.

“
Good to see you, Merle,” Jenny’s dad said. “I appreciate you helping out my baby girl—who, by the way, did not say a thing to me before she called you.”

“
Headstrong.” Merle smiled and winked at Jenny. “Just like her mother.”

“
Thank you,” Jenny said, and both men laughed.

“
Come on over here, Jenny.  See what you think.” He led them to a long, boxy, two-door car, which was a dark red-brown color, except for the daisy yellow passenger door and the primer colored trunk lid.  “She’s mostly a 1975 Lincoln Continental, with other things there and here.  Actually a pretty nice car.  Worked on it off and on the last ten years.  Wouldn’t take her mudding, but she’ll putter along fine on the road.”

Jenny barely heard him.  She stared at the car for a long minute, then leaned in the open driver’s window to check out the interior.  The seats had been upholstered with a ridiculous cheetah-print pattern, the front and rear dash with fuzzy white shag carpet, now faded and moth-eaten. 

“—needed a new transmission, all of it,” Merle was telling her dad. “Never did fix up the interior, still smells like that marijuhwana—”

“
I love this car,” Jenny announced as she stood up.  “Can I really borrow it?”

“
Why don’t you climb on inside and see if it fits?” Merle asked.  He opened the door for her, then closed it behind her when she slid into the driver’s seat.

She admired the old-fashioned dashboard, all knobs and needles and vinyl paneling.  The seat covers did smell like the ghost of water bongs past.  She put her hands on the wheel, and Merle handed her the keys.