SummerHill Secrets, Volume 2 (44 page)

The bell for homeroom rang before we could continue. In a way, I was glad. Mainly because I hadn’t fully decided if I was up to the task. Alliteration-eze was one thing, but this rhyming idea…well, I didn’t know for sure.

I asked Chelsea about it in algebra, and she was all smiles. “Let’s go for it. I’m up for the challenge,” she said, choosing the seat next to me.

“Maybe it’s
your
thing,” I said. “Yours and Jon’s.”

“Oh, Mer, how can you say that? You’re the one who’s the
real
wit around here.” She opened her notebook. “I’m only the tagalong.”

I wanted to debate her comment, but the teacher stood up and began discussing our homework assignment from yesterday.

Word Game Plus would have to wait.

If Jon hadn’t seemed so interested in getting me involved, I might’ve blown the whole thing off. Let Chelsea and Jon have their fun. But I knew by the look in Jon’s eyes, he wanted me to participate. To tell the truth, though, I was more interested in digging up clues in Old Hawk Eyes’ attic than dreaming up another word game.

“Give me some sleuthing ideas,” I said to Chelsea as we waited for the bus after school.

“What kind of sleuthing are we talking?” Her eyes were wide with intrigue.

I hadn’t wanted to completely divulge my plan to snoop in Miss Spindler’s attic. Skip’s knowing was enough of a risk.

“Okay, Mer, level with me. What’re you planning over at Old Hawk Eyes’?” asked Chelsea.

“Well…” I looked around to see if Jon or anyone else might be around to hear. “It’s time someone found out the truth.”

Her eyebrows jerked up. “The truth about what?”

“About…
you know
.” I began to whisper. “How Ruby Spindler does it—spying on everyone.”

She shrugged her shoulders and sighed. “Oh that.”

“Yes,
that
!”

Her eyes narrowed and she peeked at me with an inquisitive gaze. “I’d say you’re extremely caught up in this.”

“Too caught up? I’m a human being, for pete’s sake!”

“A too-curious one, I’d say.” Chelsea glanced over her shoulder. “I wonder what Jon would say about this idea of yours.”

I pulled on her arm, yanking her back. “Don’t tell him or anyone else, you hear?”

She started cackling. “Man, you sound as backwoodsy as Old Hawk Eyes herself. Rachel Zook, too.”

Something rose up in me. It was one thing to poke fun at my elderly, eccentric neighbor. It was quite another to belittle my Old Order Amish girl friend—one of the dearest and closest friends of my life.

“Rachel is who she is, and that has nothing to do with being backward or woodsy.”

Chelsea stepped back slightly. “Well, aren’t we the defensive one.”

More than anything, I wished we weren’t having this tiff. It was ridiculous, really, especially since months had passed since Chelsea had abandoned atheism and started reading the Bible, even regularly attending Sunday school and church with me. What was going on between us at the moment was entirely unnecessary. Yet I had no idea why she was being so sarcastic.

“I didn’t mean for us to fuss,” I said softly.

The bus pulled to a stop, and we boarded without further comment. Chelsea slid into our usual seat and stared out the window.

We rode along, not speaking for several miles. Then she turned to me and said, “I don’t know what got into me, Merry. I’m not the least bit jealous of Rachel. Honest, I’m not.”

“You don’t have any reason to be,” I replied.

She shook her head and then answered my original question at last. “Seems to me you ought to be able to distract Miss Spindler somehow.”

“Like how?”

“What do you want to investigate?” she asked me point-blank.

“Her attic.”

“Good idea.”

I smiled.

“Maybe someone should give her a call, divert her attention, you know. Get her out of the house,” Chelsea commented.

“I thought of that.”

She stacked up her pile of books neatly. “But you simply can’t get caught…that’s the main thing.”

“You’re right. You want to give her a call sometime?” I asked, wondering what she’d say.

“Maybe.” Chelsea had a faraway look in her eyes. “What I’d give to check out her attic with you.”

“You’re kidding. Really?”

She was nodding and grinning.

“Here’s what I’ll do,” I said, thrilled we were seeing eye-toeye again. “I’ll take pictures—lots of them, okay?”

“Great idea!” Chelsea was delighted.

“Aren’t you glad I’m a world-class photographer?” I joked.

“Very glad…
silly
.”

We stood up for our bus stop, and with a fleeting look out the window, I saw Rachel Zook weeding her mother’s flower garden. All of a sudden, I could hardly wait to run away to a beautiful, private setting; I wanted to celebrate the midway point between sixteen and seventeen with my longtime Amish friend.

But first things first. I had an attic to attend to. And an old lady to visit with, as well.

Sure enough, Miss Spindler was waiting for me at her back door. “How’s every little thing today?” she asked.

“School was fine.”

“Easy too?”

I had to think about that. “History and math weren’t very easy,” I admitted. “But most all my other subjects were.” I didn’t go on to say that socializing in the hall with a certain person wasn’t all that easy, either.

“Any sign of Abednego?” I asked, hoping she had seen my funny feline.

“I thought you’d be asking about him,” she said, a quizzical smile spreading over her wrinkled face. “So I done put my feelers out all over.”

Feelers?

“What’d you do?” I asked, dying to know how she pried into the affairs of the world of SummerHill.

“Trust me, dearie. I’m doing my dead-level best to find that there kitty cat of yours.” She clammed up after that—went right over and opened her fridge. I figured there was no point in pushing the question.

Shadrach, Meshach, and Lily White were excited to see me, but not so eager that they didn’t make a beeline to their milk dish after a few friendly comments and strokes.

On the table, a plate of peanut butter cookies and a tall, cold glass of milk awaited me. “You’re gonna spoil me, Miss Spindler,” I said, sitting down.

She smiled, making even more lines in her ancient face. “There, there, dearie,” she said. “You’ve been studying your heart out all day at school, now, haven’t you?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “You deserve a nice treat, I daresay.”

“Thank you,” I said, remembering my manners as I chose a cookie from the offered plate. “Mm-m, they’re still warm.”

She nodded silently, her eyes glistening. I wondered how lonely she was, living in this big house by herself.

“Ever think about getting a pet to keep you company?” I asked between mouthwatering bites.

“A pet? Well, my, oh my, I haven’t ever thought of such a thing.”

“The Zooks have some new kittens to give away,” I mentioned.

She leaned her bony elbow on the table, looking into my eyes. “Now, what on earth would an old lady like me do with a couple of frisky kittens?”

“Maybe you could start with one and see how you like it,” I suggested, taking another cookie.

She sighed, gazing at my three cats having a snack of their own. “Well, I suppose it might be a good idea. Just don’t rightly know where I’d put the dear thing.”

“Cats like to wander the house,” I told her. “They need plenty of roaming room. You have a two-story house…and an attic, too, right?”

She nodded, oblivious to my sneaky statement. “My attic’s off limits to a cat, I’m afraid.”

My ears perked right up. “Oh, why’s that?”

Her eyebrows arched high over her eyes. “Well, now, a lady oughta have herself some privacy in a house this size, don’tcha think?”

Surprised that she’d nearly come out and admitted to having a hideaway for meddling, I thought it best to drop the subject. Didn’t want her to think I was prying, especially about something of great interest to me.

I thanked her for the after-school treat before heading upstairs to change clothes for the afternoon.

“Tomorrow we’ll have oatmeal and raisin cookies,” she spoke up quickly.

“You don’t have to bake a new batch just for me.” I felt uneasy about her going out of her way for me. After all, she was no spring chicken.

“I’d be downright honored,” she insisted.

So I left it at that.

On the way to my room, I took time to locate Miss Spindler’s large bedroom. Stepping inside the doorway, I scanned the room briefly until I heard her rickety voice from below.

“Merry, dearie, I forgot to tell you that your parents phoned this morning after you left for school.”

“They must be in Costa Rica…safe and sound?” I called, leaving her bedroom.

“They wanted you to know,” she answered, her footsteps on the stairs.

Worried that I was about to be caught, I turned and fled to my room.

The meadow near the banks of Deer Creek was the perfect spot to spend the rest of the afternoon. That is,
after
we went scouring the bushes and underbrush in the willow grove for Abednego.

When we didn’t find him there, we headed out to the highway, way at the east end of SummerHill Lane. He must have run far away to escape the lightning bolts and the crashing thunder.

“Maybe Abednego thought the noise and the lightning was coming from near the house,” I told Rachel, wondering what might’ve been going through his furry head during the storm.

“Jah, maybe,” Rachel said, out of breath.

We walked back toward her house and then cut across the north pasture to the meadow. There we sat in the tall grasses, encircled by golden buttercups and white and yellow daisies. We watched a pair of swallows flitter and dive after insects in flight.

“Has anyone ever seen Old Hawk Eyes’ attic?” I asked, shielding my eyes from the light of the sun.

Rachel played with the strings on her prayer cap and shook her head. “Nobody seems to know a thing about how she keeps up with all that gossip of hers.”

“It’s like she’s connected somehow,” I said, letting myself fall back in the grass. “She just knows so much…about all of us.”

“Jah, plugged in to the gossip line, I’d hafta say.”

We talked about what it would be like for us to turn seventeen next fall and how much Rachel enjoyed going to barn singings on weekends.

“How’s Matthew Yoder these days?” I asked, staring up at her silhouette blocking the sun.

She giggled and her cheeks turned crimson. “Ach, ya ain’t s’posed to be askin’ that sort of thing, Merry.”

“So you
do
still like him?”

“Matthew’s the beau for me,” she said softly. “We’ll be going to baptismal classes together come July. It’s very important.”

“Does this mean what I think it means?” I asked, anxious to know if she’d be joining the Amish church this year.

“I’m planning my future, jah. It’s what’s expected of me, I s’pose.” She leaned back in the grass next to me, her cap askew.

“Then, you’re not sure if it’s the right thing…is that what you’re saying?” It was nosy of me, but I had to ask.

“If I want to be Matthew’s wife someday, I’ll join the church.

It’s the only way to marry an Amish boy.”

I turned to face her, the grass tickling my neck. “Are you saying he’s already proposed?”

“Sorry, Cousin Merry, you know our traditions about going for steady. It’s always kept a secret till two weeks before the weddin’. ”

I smiled. “Can’t fool me. You’re practically engaged, and you know it!”

With that, she got up and ran across the meadow. I chased her, laughing like a young child as ribbons of sunbeams floated all around us.

Later, after we’d worn ourselves out, we sat with our bare feet splashing in the creek. It was then that I asked her about Levi. “I have this feeling, you know.”

“Far as I know, he ain’t got a new girlfriend,” Rachel said. “But then again, I could be wrong. Things like that can happen so fast. Almost overnight, sometimes.”

“I know, and that’s okay…really it is.”

She turned to me and reached to touch my hand. “It ain’t okay, Cousin Merry, and you know it. Ach, not knowin’ for sure is burning up your heart, and ya can’t think of much else. Am I right?”

I didn’t dare fess up. Not to Levi’s sister, of all people.

She pulled her feet up out of the cool stream and dried them against the wild grass. “I was hopin’ all along that someday you’d be my sister-in-law, ya know.”

Any other time, I might’ve smiled at that. Pete’s sake, I’d heard it enough times from her. But today I sat as still as the boulders along the creek bed, watching sunlight dance like teardrops on the water. “Someday’s so far off when you’re only sixteen,” I whispered, still gazing at the little stars of light skipping and playing on the brook.

“You’re sixteen and a half,” she reminded me. “That’s why we’re here today…remember?” Picking up a pebble, she tossed it into the water.

“Caught between twelve and twenty,” I muttered.

Before going to bed, I decided to write Levi a note.

April 22
Dear Levi,

Thanks for writing again. You must be very busy at school, so I understand if you can’t write as often as before. I’ve been busy, too.