Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Moustache Mary (3 page)

BOOK: Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Moustache Mary
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Dot's backyard isn't exactly a
yard
. It's more like a forest of oak trees. They're not bunched real close together
or anything, they're just so old and large that they arch together into a giant green canopy. And there's no lawn covering the ground. There's a carpet of tan leaves instead. And it's thick. Like extra-plush, only crunchy. And as we're crunching our way across it, Dot says, “Dad's got to make a delivery for a big party up the road, so he's probably in one of the greenhouses.”

Just past the oak canopy are two arched buildings sitting on the ground like enormous white cocoons. Dot smiles. “There they are.”

Holly says, “Wow! Did your dad build those?”

“No. They were already here.” Dot laughs. “Dad tells everyone we moved because we needed more room, but actually I think it's because his
plants
needed more room. They moved in way before we did!”

Dot opens the door to the first greenhouse, and we all peek inside as she scans the place for her dad. There are rows and rows of plants—I'm talking some are
trees
— and they go from one end of the cocoon to the other. And then, almost connecting with them, are philodendrons and ferns the size of laundry baskets hanging from the roof. It's like we've stepped into the steamy belly of a gigantic jungle-eating caterpillar.

Dot says, “There he is!” and heads off through the trees.

Mr. DeVries is adding plants to a long wooden pallet on wheels. He spots us and says, “Oh, hello, girls! You made it!”

Dot says, “You remember Marissa and Sammy from Halloween, Dad?”

Mr. DeVries grins. “You mean the Mummy and the Marsh Monster,
ja?

We laugh and say, “That's right!” Then Dot adds, “And this is our friend Holly.”

Mr. DeVries says, “Glad you all could come.”

Dot bounces up and down on the balls of her feet. “Mom asked us to find the
sjoelbak
. Do you know where it is?”

“In the basement, I think.” He looks at his watch and asks, “Do you know where your
brothers
are?”

Dot shakes her head. “I thought they were helping you out here.”

“They went off to find some rope, but it's been quite some time.”

Dot says, “We'll help you, Dad,” then she looks at us like, Won't we?

We give a chorus of “Sure, we'll help” and watch the knots in Mr. DeVries' face disappear. “Really? But this is supposed to be a day for you and your friends. You helped me plenty yesterday, hon.”

We all shrug and say, “We don't mind,” and then Dot says, “Tell us what to do.”

“Well, let's get these plants to the truck. I've got a wagon of cut flowers in the other greenhouse. Bring them together outside and I'll back the truck up.”

We'd barely gotten the wagons together when Mr. DeVries comes rumbling up in the delivery truck. Now this is not a truck like you're used to seeing. It's a panel truck, but it's got screened windows for vents along the back, and it's green. Bright, sour apple green. And there
are yellow and orange flowers bursting from behind one-foot arched lettering that spells out D
E
V
RIES
N
URSERY
.

Dot must have noticed us gawking because she says, “Pretty attention-grabbing, huh? Dad did it himself—can you believe it? He put in the windows and the hydraulic liftgate. Even painted it himself. Cool, huh?”

The rest of us tried to look sincere as we smiled and nodded. After all, who am I to criticize someone for going a little crazy with green paint? And the liftgate
was
cool. It powered up the plants and buckets of flowers in no time, so all we had to do was shove them up against the cab.

When we're done, Dot asks her dad, “You want us to ride in back and keep the buckets from spilling?”

He says, “Hmmm,” then shakes his head. “I don't think that's such a good idea.” He looks over his shoulder. “Where
are
those boys? How long can it take to find a length of rope?”

Dot gives him a secret grin. “It's Stan and Troy, Dad— it can take all day!” He grins back and shakes his head, so she adds, “It's probably not even a mile, and you do need something to keep these from sliding around or tipping over.”

Marissa and I shrug and say, “We don't mind. It'll be fun!” and Holly adds, “And then we can help you unload them, too.”

Mr. DeVries laughs and says, “Okay, then. What can happen in a mile,
ja?

We all laugh and say, “Right!”

Ha!

THREE

We bumped along Meadow Lane and made it back onto the main road without spilling a drop. Mr. DeVries checked on us a couple times through the cab's pass-through window, calling, “You girls all right back there?”

And we were rumbling along fine, taking the curves in the road with no problem, when all of a sudden Mr. DeVries slams on the brakes and swerves.

It's amazing what a little swerve can do to you if you're in the back of a delivery truck. There's nothing to hold on to because
everything
's slipping and sliding around, so you just kind of go with it. And even though we managed to keep the plants and buckets from falling over, that didn't stop
us
from taking a tumble. I landed sideways on my shoulder holding up a bucket of flowers, and so did Holly. Somehow Dot and Marissa stayed upright, but Dot's pant leg got soaked.

Mr. DeVries calls, “You girls all right?”

One at a time, we say, “Yeah…!” and then Dot adds, “What's wrong, Dad? What happened?” but Mr. DeVries is already outside, slamming the driver-side door closed. And since we couldn't see much out front, we rolled up the back door and scrambled out.

The truck wasn't exactly parked, it was just stopped in
the middle of the road. So we ran over to the shoulder, and that's when we saw her—the Lady in Black.

She had on a black dress with a black wool coat over it, and shoes that looked like black army boots, only with buckles instead of laces. A small black purse was looped around her arm, and arching across her white hair was a fuzzy black hat with a little black feather sticking out of it—like a Robin Hood cap, only velvet. She was frail, and hunched over so much that she'd have to get way up on her tiptoes to reach the five-foot mark.

And it was strange enough, seeing this crooked old woman decked out in boots and all black, but ambling alongside her was a pig. A big black pig with a big black satin bow attached to its collar.

Mr. DeVries gets in step beside her. “Ma'am! You're blocking the road!”

She stops walking, then cocks her head to look at him. “Blocking it? Young man, that's quite an exaggeration. You have plenty of room to go around.”

Just then a silver Town Car with tinted windows rounds the bend toward us and slows down. And even though we can't really see the driver, you know he's in there wondering what in the world a bright green truck, a black-bowed pig, and a four-foot woman are doing decorating the roadway.

Mr. DeVries waves the car along, then tries to coax the Lady in Black to the side of the road, asking her, “Are you lost?”

She gives him a coy little smile. “Hardly.”

“Are you on your way somewhere?”

“That I am.”

“Would you like a lift?”

She eyes him. “I'm afraid that wouldn't be proper.”

By now we've moved so that we can practically reach out and touch her, but she hasn't seemed to notice us.

Holly asks, “Is that a
pet?

The Lady in Black doesn't jump or act startled, she just turns and smiles like she's known we were there all along. “Hmm. A pet. No, I'd say Penny is more like a friend.”

Then she turns to look at me, and it's the strangest thing. Even though her skin is wrinkled and so thin that her cheekbones seem ready to poke right through, her eyes are clear. Clear and bright, and very blue. And suddenly she doesn't look like your average old woman out for a walk with a big black pig. She may be tiny and have a weak voice, but in her eyes there's something very strong about her.

She grins down at Holly, who's petting her pig. “Like animals, do you?”

Holly smiles. “Yes, ma'am.”

Mr. DeVries holds his hands out like he's talking to God. “In the middle of the road? Girls, I'm trying to get her to the side!”

“No cause for panic, young man. I'll move aside and you can be on your way.”

He scratches his neck and says, “Are you sure we can't give you a lift?”

“That's very kind, but as I said, it wouldn't be proper.”

Marissa says, “Well, where are you headed?”

“Just up the road a piece.”

Dot asks, “You wouldn't be going to the Murdock party, would you?”

“I don't know that I would call it a
party
.”

Mr. DeVries asks, “But is that where you're headed?”

She nods.

“That's where we're headed. Why don't you let us give you a…”

She looks him square in the eye. “And you are…?”

Dot says, “Oh, I get it!” She takes a step forward. “This is my father, Jan DeVries. My name's Margaret— but everyone calls me Dot—and these are my friends Marissa, Holly, and Sammy. We're on our way over to the Murdocks' to deliver some plants and flowers. My father runs a nursery—we just moved in down Meadow Lane.”

She looks at us one at a time, then nods and smiles. “Pleased to make your acquaintances. I'm Lucinda Huntley.” She turns to Mr. DeVries. “If you're sure you've got the room?”

Mr. DeVries looks completely confused.

“Now that I've made your acquaintance…?”

“Oh! Oh, certainly.” He moves to open the passenger-side door. “There's room for you up front, but your pig will have to ride in back.”

Lucinda corrects him, saying, “Her name's Penny. And if it's all the same to you, we'll both sit in back with the girls.”

“But ma'am, there're no seats back there.”

“That's all right. Just mind the curves.” She smiles. “And pedestrians. Can't have you swerving to miss something you should've been expecting.”

Mr. DeVries is figuring out in a hurry that there's really no arguing with a four-foot woman in a Robin Hood cap walking a two-hundred-pound pig, so he bites his tongue and liftgates both of them into the back.

The rest of us scramble in, then anchor the plants and buckets while Mr. DeVries gets back in the cab and throws the truck in gear. Lucinda Huntley makes Penny sit beside her, then sizes up the situation. “A length of rope would've done the job nicely.”

Dot laughs. “My brothers are still out looking for one.”

Lucinda winks at her. “Brothers can be like that.”

“Besides, Dad had to get these to the Murdocks right away, and it's not far.”

Her eyes sharpen on Dot. “Are you friends?”

“With the Murdocks?”

She nods.

“No, ma'am.”

“The name's Lucinda.”

Dot blinks at her a bit, and you can tell she's thinking that anyone so old can't possibly have a name without a Mrs. or Miss attached to it and that maybe she'll just get around the whole situation by not calling her anything at all.

Lucinda's onto her. “Say it.”

“Excuse me?”

“My name. Go on, say it.”

“Uh…Lucinda.”

“Good. Now you were telling me that you are
not
friends with the Murdocks, is that right?”

“They just placed this order with my dad for their party, that's all.”

Lucinda nods, then asks, “Are you going in?”

“To the house? Probably, but just to help unload.”

She adjusts her Robin Hood hat, then looks around at all of us. “Good.”

I can tell she's thinking something, and that something has nothing to do with stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. So I ask her, “Why do you care if we're going in?”

Penny snorts and nudges her, so she gives her ear a rubbing and says, “It'll just make things easier.”

“How's that?”

She cocks her head my way and gives me a closed smile.

“Sammy, is it? That would be short for Samantha?”

“Uh…uh-huh.”

“And are you always so inquisitive, Samantha?”

“I wasn't trying to be inquisitive…I was just wondering, that's all.”

“Hmmm,” she says, like she doesn't quite believe me.

The truck slows way down and then turns up a driveway. Lucinda looks at me and whispers, “I just don't want trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Trouble,” she says, but her blue eyes are twinkling. What I wanted to ask her was, How do you expect me
not
to ask questions when you say something like that? but the truck was slowing to a stop, and I could tell from the way she was fixing the bow on her pig that the subject was closed. Instead, I peeked out one of the vent windows and asked, “You really think they're going to let a pig in that place?”

She muttered, “I don't see why not…
they've
been living there for years.” Then she looks out the window and her jaw drops. “Land sakes! Are you sure this is the Murdock place?” She scoots across the truck to the opposite window and says, “There's the oak…and the wagon wheel…” She moves back to look at the house. “Lord! Have they taken on airs!” She straightens her hat again and says, “Well, airs or no airs, I'm here, I'm dressed, and I'm goin' in!” She gives Penny a nuzzle, then says to Holly, “You'll take care of her, won't you, dear?”

Holly says, “Sure,” and before you know it, Penny's down and off on a walk with Holly while the rest of us tag along with Mr. DeVries to the front door.

Now, if I'd been thinking, I'd have realized that we weren't delivering flowers to a New Year's party. I mean, Lucinda had said something about it not being a party, but she'd been walking two hundred pounds of pork in the middle of the road, so I'd just figured she had a few pickets missing in her little white fence. But after talking to her in the back of the truck, I should have known that the things she said were connected. Definitely connected.

Mr. DeVries rings the bell, and right away the butler answers the door. He's wearing white gloves and a bow tie, and his eyelids are at half-mast as he says, “Yes?” down his nose at us, but it's hard to take him seriously because planted smack-dab on the tip of his nose is the biggest, reddest, ripest zit I've ever seen. It's like a volcano, ready to erupt.

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