SummerHill Secrets, Volume 2 (45 page)

I’m staying with Miss Spindler for a few days while my parents are in Costa Rica. Remember, they talked about going during MY Easter break? Anyway, it didn’t work out, so they went this week, and I would’ve gone with them—to take pictures, like you suggested one time—but I couldn’t miss that much school. So here I am.

Skip’s coming home on Thursday afternoon to stay with me till Mom and Dad return on the weekend. My brother has a job near his college campus, so even though he’s on Easter break this week, he’s not getting much of a vacation from school, after all.

Today Rachel and I went looking for my ornery cat, Abednego. He’s the one who’s always running off. Well, I don’t know for sure, but it seems he’s not coming back this time, and I miss him. Only the Lord knows where he is now.

Maybe I’ll see you this summer. Take care, and God bless you.

Your friend,
Merry

I read what I’d written and realized the note had a stiff sort of feel to it. I wondered if Levi would notice. I hadn’t meant to be standoffish toward him just because he wasn’t coming home as promised. I was shielding myself, I guess. Didn’t want to be hurt.

It wasn’t long before Miss Spindler was calling me for supper. “Coming in a minute,” I said, hoping to locate her attic stairs before heading down.

Once inside her bedroom, I opened two doors, both of which turned out to be closets. On the third try—bull’s-eye!

I was absolutely baffled by what I saw. My eyes roamed up the steep beige
carpeted
steps. “Truly amazing,” I whispered.

It looked to me as if Miss Spindler’s attic had been finished in as pretty a style as the rest of her house. Tomorrow, without fail, I would talk to Chelsea about setting up a time to phone Miss Spindler to occupy her time. I
had
to see this attic.

“Merry, dearie!” I was being paged.

Silently, I closed the attic door and hurried downstairs for supper.

Tomorrow!

Chelsea Davis was absent from school the next day. I realized she was probably sick when she wasn’t on the school bus, seated and smiling in her usual spot.

Later, when I asked Ashley and Lissa about her, Ashley said she’d called and asked for prayer last night. “She had a high fever, she said. Her parents were getting ready to take her to the emergency room,” Ashley explained.

My heart sank. “Did your dad pray with her on the phone?”

Ashley nodded, sporting a grin. “Daddy was quite thrilled to pray for her. And something else.”

“What?” I asked.

“Chelsea called Daddy her pastor.”

“Really?” I was truly excited about that but concerned about Chelsea’s physical problems.

“Has anyone called to check on her this morning?” I asked.

Lissa looked at her watch. “I doubt that you have time to now.”

I knew she was right. “Maybe during lunch.”

The girls hurried off to their lockers just as I spied the Alliteration Wizard. Tall, lean, and relaxed, he strolled up to my locker. I honestly had to tell myself to cool it. He was only a guy, for pete’s sake. Sure, he was an exceptionally good-looking one, but that was beside the point. There were oodles of cute boys at James Buchanan High. Still, why did my heart have to pound so hard when he came near?

“Mistress Merry,” he said, greeting me with his usual nickname.

Funny, but I wished he’d revert back to calling me just plain Merry. Like yesterday.

We talked about Chelsea being sick and my lost cat. There was no mention made of his brain wave about alliterating and rhyming in one breath. I was actually relieved. It was enough to wonder where Abednego had gone and contemplate my next move with Miss Spindler and her attic—especially now that Chelsea wouldn’t be able to distract her with a phone call—let alone ponder if I was up to the task of expanding my cerebellum by adding yet another facet to Jon Klein’s word game.

“I wonder…could you do me a favor?” I blurted.

His gaze and smile made me almost forget what I was about to say. “Whatever you wish,” he said.

“You’ve met Miss Spindler, right?”

He frowned, thinking. “Not really…not formally, at least.”

I wondered if this was such a good idea, after all.

“What’s the favor?” he prodded.

“Could you give her a call after school today?”

“Old Hawk Eyes?” He chuckled, reaching up and smoothing his hair back with one hand. “You want me to call an old woman I don’t remember ever meeting?”

“Would you,
please
?”

“Only if you give me some ideas—you know, what I should say to her,” he insisted.

I sighed. “Well, let’s see. You could talk about her vegetable garden or…her need for a pet. That’s it! Tell her you know of someone—that would be Rachel Zook—who has way too many cats. I’ve already put a bug in her ear about that. What do you think? Nice topic for conversation, right?”

He offered a slight smile. “I think you better tell me what this is about, Merry, because I have a feeling you’re up to something.”

Jon was absolutely right. So I told him what I planned to do while he kept Miss Spindler on the phone.

He shook his head, laughing. “You’re going to be upstairs in her attic?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Doing what?”

“Just spying a little.”

He seemed interested. “Checking out her attic for what?”

The bell rang, and we had to conclude our talk.

“I’ll fill you in at lunch,” I promised.

He was still in a daze. I saw confusion in his eyes.

Then it hit me.

Oh great
, I thought,
this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever done!

It turned out that something must’ve come up for Jon over lunch hour, because he never showed up. I told Ashley and Lissa about my quick chat with Chelsea’s mom before lunch. “Chelsea’s really sick.”

They listened, wide-eyed, as I filled them in. “Chelsea’s got scarlet fever and won’t be back to school for over a week.”

“Scarlet fever?” Lissa gasped. “Don’t people die from that?”

I tried to calm her down, explaining that back in the olden days people didn’t have strong antibiotics to kill the virus.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Ashley said, clutching her throat. “It’s contagious…and haven’t we been exposed to her?”

“You’re right. Especially Sunday, when all of us went looking for Abednego together,” I said, thinking back to whether Chelsea had complained of a sore throat or anything else. “The best thing to do if you’ve never had scarlet fever is get plenty of rest and drink lots of water,” I told them what Chelsea’s mom had just advised me over the phone. “And take extra vitamin C—that might help you, too.”

My comments seemed to satisfy Ashley’s concern. Lissa, however, was still frowning. “Someone will have to take Chelsea’s homework to her, right?”

I shrugged it off. “I’ll take it. I’m not afraid.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Ashley asked.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” I meant it. “When I was little I had a mild case of scarlet fever.”

“You remember?” Lissa asked.

“Barely, but yeah.”

“Well, then, you’re the girl for the job,” Ashley said.

“Say that with all
j
’s,” I dared her. But she didn’t even try.

I excused myself and got up from the table. “Have to find where Jon’s hiding out. He and I have something to settle.” I didn’t want to say more.

Lissa’s eyes blinked ninety miles an hour. “Uh, really? Is this something
we
oughta know about?”

I brushed off her comment. Didn’t need to let her in on my wild scheme. Maybe later, but not now.

“Are you and Jon getting…you know, back together?” Lissa asked out of the blue.

I almost choked. “We were never ‘together’ in the first place.”
Except in my heart
, I thought.

, “But you and he—”

“Nope, we were always just friends.” I paused, remembering the days when he and I were strictly alliteration buddies. Back before anyone else knew about the word game. “Just good friends,” I repeated.

“So then, what’s the big secret?” Ashley came right out and asked.

I debated whether to divulge my plan. Students all around us were eating and chattering, some laughing and making jokes at their tables, others cramming for tests—spreading homework out in front of them.

“Merry?” said Lissa. “Does it have something to do with Miss Spindler?”

I couldn’t hold it in another second. “You’re right. It’s about Old Hawk Eyes…and her attic.”

“How does Jon fit in?” Ashley asked, reaching for her soda.

“Very carefully” was all I would say.

“Aw, tell us,” Ashley persisted.

“Gotta run,” I said, leaving the table, their pleadings ringing in my ears.

After school, I took Chelsea’s homework assignment to her house and gave it to her mother at the door. It was good to see Mrs. Davis looking so fit and perky, her cheeks rosy and eyes bright again. She’d been through quite an ordeal last fall, and I knew God had answered many prayers.

“Thank you, Merry,” she said. “I’ll be sure to tell Chelsea you dropped by.”

“Give her this, too.” I held out a get-well card I’d made during study hall. “It’s from Ashley, Lissa, and me.”

“How sweet of you. You’re very kind.”

I waved and headed down the front steps to the road. Running down SummerHill Lane was easy from Chelsea’s house to mine. It was the steep slope that turned left at Strawberry Lane that took the wind out of me.

At precisely 4:15 the phone rang at Miss Spindler’s. I held my breath, leaning over the banister upstairs, listening.

“This is Ruby Spindler,” I heard her answer the telephone.

Then, for the longest time, there was silence on her end.

Johnny-on-the-spot, I dashed to her bedroom and checked the caller ID on the bedside phone table. Sure enough, Jon Klein had come through for me, exactly as we’d secretly concocted at my locker after school.

Cupping my hand over my mouth, I held in the giggle that threatened to spill out. Quickly and quietly, I approached the door that led to the attic, thinking that I’d love to know what Jon was saying right now! Was he showing off his alliterationeze for her?

Once I was on the other side of the door with my foot on the first step, I turned and closed the door behind me. Silent as springtime.

Then, climbing the stairs two at a time, I sprang up into the attic, taking in the wood-paneled walls, finished ceiling, and flecked beige carpet.

What I saw at the top of the steps, I’d never have believed in a million years if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes. This was an old lady’s attic, for pete’s sake!

I looked around, amazed. Here was a room high in the eaves, completely set up as an office, with built-in oak cup-boards and a wide computer desk.

“A computer? What’s Old Hawk Eyes doing with a computer?” I muttered.

Truly incredible.

I crept closer to the sight before me. Surely, this was an outlandish dream. But my eyes told a different story. This was
not
a dream. My fingers were touching the desk, the top of the computer, and the small desk lamp, declaring the reality of the whole setup.

Miss Ruby Spindler must’ve had a professional come in and install the computer for her. It was the weirdest thing. Why on earth did an old woman need all this high-tech equipment?

Wait’ll Rachel hears about this
, I thought.
And Levi!

Yes, Levi would get a big charge out of this. So would Jon and all my girl friends at school. In fact, they’d have a hard time believing this place really and truly existed.

That’s when I remembered my digital camera. I’d forgotten to bring it along.
What were you thinking?
I reprimanded myself.

Turning to go down the steps to retrieve it, I heard my name being called. I froze in place, looking every which way—wondering where I might hide.

“Merry, dearie,” Miss Spindler called from what sounded like her own bedroom. Just below the attic room!

Yee-ikes!
I had no idea what to think or do.

“Merry? Can you hear me?” she said again.

My heart was pounding in my ears so hard, I couldn’t begin to think of a solution to my plight. The old lady wanted a reply, and if she didn’t get one soon, she might come looking in the attic. I couldn’t have that. There had to be another way!

Glancing around the long, narrow room, I noticed a small closet door smack-dab in the center. An odd place for a door, to be sure.

Without a second thought, I darted inside. I was surprised to see the door led to more steps, straight to the roof of the house and to a hinged, double-swing door. The latch was unlocked, so I pushed hard and it opened easily.

Standing up, I saw that the roof was actually a widow’s walk perched on top of the main roof of the house. I paced off the flat, square area, flabbergasted at this incredible lookout. Taking in the sweet springtime air, I stopped to lean on the wooden railing that surrounded the observation platform, letting my eyes roam the expanse of sky and landscape below. “Of course,” I said to the air and trees, “this is how Old Hawk Eyes sees so much!” But honestly, I’d never noticed the widow’s walk from our house. Probably because the enormous trees blocked it from view.