The Ghost of Cutler Creek (5 page)

Soon Allie and Dub were letting themselves in through the door of Mr. Henry's kitchen. “Hoover?” Allie called. “We're here, girl. Ready for food and a walk?”

When the dog's bowl was empty, Allie took the leash from its place in the closet. Hoover began prancing around the room with excitement, her tail wagging like a furry, golden flag.

“I'd say she's ready,” declared Dub.

“Let's go.”

They walked slowly, letting Hoover stop to sniff wherever she pleased. Observing this behavior, Allie said, “Maybe if we watch Hoover carefully, we'll learn something that will help. Look at her nose go. She can probably tell which dogs already passed by that signpost this morning and when.”

“You said you and Michael were smelling something disgusting, right?”

Allie wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, it was gross.”

Watching Hoover happily slurping water from a muddy puddle, Dub said, “Gross to you. To a dog it might be delectable.”

“True,” Allie said. “But maybe trying to think like a dog isn't such a great idea. Probably we should try to imagine the kind of thing that might happen to a dog to make it into a restless ghost.”

Dub looked thoughtful. “Well, there's the obvious car accident. A hit-and-run driver.”

“And remember that story that was going around a while ago about some people who got mad at their neighbors' dog for barking, so they poisoned it?”

“Yeah,” said Dub. “And did you know that some people actually raise dogs for fighting? They make bets on which dog will win, and sometimes one dog kills the other one.”

Allie shuddered. “That is totally sick. Actually, this whole conversation is a real bummer.”

“You started it.” They walked in silence for a while before Dub added, “The only other thing I can think of is that dogs sometimes get used for scientific experiments.”

“Gee, there's another cheerful thought,” Allie said bleakly. “But, cheerful or not, we have to get used to thinking about this stuff. Because one thing we've learned is that ghosts are unhappy for a reason.”

Soon they were approaching the old bean packing plant. It gave Allie the willies. The gray paint was peeling badly, giving the walls what she thought of as a scabby, unhealthy appearance. Most of the windows had been broken and lay in sharp, glittering shards on the ground. A sheet of metal roofing had torn loose and was flapping erratically in the wind with a hollow clang. The abandoned hulk of a building looked cold in contrast to the sunny glare of the empty parking lot, and an odd odor of decay drifted from it.

Allie walked faster, feeling silly even as she did, and grateful for the company of Dub and Hoover. There were times when, like her parents, she wished her imagination
weren't
quite so vivid.

“Maybe he won't be home,” she said, trying to shake the feeling the old plant had given her.

Naturally, Dub knew she was talking about L.J. “I hope he is,” he said. “Otherwise, this whole trip is a waste. We'll just have to come back. Or explain to Mr. Henry why we didn't.”

“Then we'd better decide what we're going to say when we get there.” Allie sighed. “We can't tell him Mr. Henry wanted us to make friends with the poor little new kid. I can just hear him: ‘I told you I don't need no baby-sitter!'”

They continued walking.

“I know,” said Allie. “We can say we noticed he seemed to like Hoover, and since we were out walking Hoover, anyway, we decided to stop over.” Dub didn't answer right away and Allie added, “Although I'm not exactly sure he
liked
Hoover. It was just that she was the only thing he showed any interest in at all.”

“And then we hope he doesn't ask how we found out where he lives,” said Dub.

“It's going to be awful however we do it,” said Allie. She could feel Dub looking at her closely. “What?” she asked.

“You're not usually so pessimistic,” he answered.

Allie shrugged. She wasn't sure why she was letting L.J. bother her so much.

“Relax,” Dub said cheerfully. “What can happen? There are three of us and one of him. If he tries anything, Hoover'll lick him, right, girl?”

Hoover grinned a doggy grin, clearly happy to be the focus of their attention, and Allie laughed. “Yeah, Hoover'll go right up and give him a big kiss.”

Allie did relax a little, at least until they came to the turn onto Dundee Road. Past a stand of scrubby bushes and a swampy area filled with cattails sat a house, all by itself except for a lopsided barn in the field behind it. A dilapidated mailbox was fixed to a post near the road. The name on it was Keegan, not Cutler, but the number matched the one Mr. Henry had given them.

“This must be it,” Allie said, squinting at the house. “I guess they haven't had time to change the name.”

The sun was in her eyes, making it difficult to get a good look at the house, but she could see that it wasn't in any better shape than the mailbox. The yard was overgrown and filled with an odd assortment of objects: a stained sink, a rusty wheelbarrow, some cinder blocks, a pink bicycle with tattered streamers hanging from the handles, and a plastic Santa Claus lying on his side near a plastic reindeer. It looked as if someone had used the reindeer for target practice.

The place made Allie very uncomfortable. She turned to Dub, who was looking around curiously. “Creepy, huh?” she said. “Plus, I'm starting to get ghost vibes.”

“Oh, great,” Dub replied. “What do you think we should do?”

“Go up and knock on the door, I guess.”

They climbed up the stairs onto the porch, which was just as cluttered as the yard. There was a stained mattress with stuffing coming out and another with the springs poking through, along with cardboard boxes filled with old magazines, bottles, and cans.

Allie and Dub approached the door, and Allie peered through a rip in the screen to a room that held a couch and a television and not much else. No sign of L.J. She knocked, and she and Dub listened for an answering voice or the sound of footsteps. Hoover began pacing nervously, tugging at the leash and whining softly.

“Shh, Hoovey,” whispered Allie. “We'll be going in a minute.” She didn't know why she was whispering, exactly, but she kept it up as she said to Dub, “Looks like nobody's here.”

Just then a loud screech came from somewhere behind the house, causing Dub and Allie to jump and Hoover to bark in alarm. It took Allie a moment to recognize the sound of a power saw. She and Dub looked at each other and headed in that direction.

When they rounded the back corner of the house, they saw L.J. bent over a piece of plywood held up by two sawhorses. He was carefully making a cut along one edge. Allie had helped her dad on many woodworking projects, and she knew how hard it was to keep a piece of wood from sliding during a long cut if there wasn't a second pair of hands to hold it. Out of habit, she stepped forward to hold the plywood steady.

L.J., immersed in his work and unable to hear over the noise of the saw, jerked upright in surprise. There was a horrible screeching noise as the saw twisted, caught in the wood, and bucked, before L.J. snatched his hand away from the trigger and the saw blade stopped.

For a moment there was quiet. Then L.J. let loose a string of swear words that stunned Allie into speechlessness. Dub, too, seemed struck dumb, and even Hoover stood frozen. They all looked at L.J., who was glaring back, red-faced and breathing hard.

“Sorry,” Allie ventured at last. “I was only”—she winced as the full force of L.J.'s stare fell on her—“trying to help.”

L.J.'s mouth twisted in a scornful grimace. “You again. Little Miss Fix-it from school. And her boyfriend, looks like.”

“Let's go, Dub,” Allie said tightly.

“No, you just hold on a second. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Nothing,” said Allie. “We're going.”

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“Don't worry, we will,” Allie answered angrily. “Come on, Dub.”

They were about to go when a man came out of the barn and began striding across the field toward them. As he approached, a gust of wind came from behind him and blew his hat off his head and onto the ground. He ignored it and kept coming. Allie could see his face now, and the anger on it frightened her. It was the same man who had pushed L.J. into the classroom at school.

Hoover sniffed the breeze and, to Allie's dismay, let out a long, mournful howl. It was a sound Allie never had heard before from the normally happy dog.

Mr. Cutler strode up to L.J. and snapped, “Shut that dog up!”

Hoover began growling, and Allie knelt beside her to try to quiet her. It was almost as if Hoover sensed danger in the situation and knew she should stop, but couldn't. She sat still, but continued making a low growl deep in her throat.

Mr. Cutler had turned back to L.J., and pointed his thumb toward Allie and Dub. “Who are they?” Without waiting for an answer, he said, “What have I told you about people coming here?”

“I didn't ask them,” L.J. said sullenly. “They just showed up.”

“Look at the mess you made of that cut,” Mr. Cutler said, curling his lip in disgust and pointing to the piece of plywood. A gouge marred the cut where the saw had bucked.

“I startled him,” Allie tried to explain. “That's why—”

She felt Dub's elbow poke sharply into her side, signaling her to be quiet.

L.J. stood scowling at the ground, the way he had in school when his father had pushed him.

“How many times have I told you to use these?” the man asked, reaching for a couple of C-shaped clamps and throwing them at L.J.'s feet.

L.J. didn't respond and his father repeated, “I said how many times?”

“Plenty of times,” L.J. said at last. He sounded tired.

“That's right,” said Mr. Cutler. “Plenty of times. But you think you're so smart you don't need to listen to your father, don't you?”

Although moments before, Allie had been fed up with L.J. herself, she felt a fierce sympathy for him now, seeing him with his father. His
father
! It was difficult for Allie to comprehend. This man was so different from her own funny, gentle dad.

“Don't you?” Mr. Cutler insisted.

L.J. didn't answer. It was a question that didn't have any safe answer, and Allie was glad L.J. didn't try to give one. In the silence that followed, a dog began to bark. Others joined in, forming a chorus. The sound came from the barn, where L.J.'s father had been. Immediately, Hoover barked back.

The barking seemed to enrage Mr. Cutler. He kicked the leg of the sawhorse, and the plywood fell to the ground. “It's always the same,” he said furiously, shaking his head at L.J. “You're just like your mother. You never listen.”

He started walking toward a gray pickup truck that was parked between the house and the barn. He opened the door, but before he got in, he turned to look back at Allie and Dub. “We don't need you two coming around here. We got work to do. He says he didn't ask you, so why don't you get lost?”

Allie and Dub scrambled to leave, practically tripping over each other and Hoover in their hurry. Allie forced herself to look back just before she rounded the corner of the house. When she did, her eyes locked for a brief moment with L.J.'s. In their darkness, she thought she glimpsed something that might have been sorrow or regret.

Or maybe, she told herself as she ran across the yard, she had only imagined it.

Allie and Dub ran down the gravel edge of Dundee Road in silence. When they turned onto the main road, Mr. Cutler drove by, heading in the same direction, back toward town. As he passed, he gazed at them from the open window, his face an expressionless mask.

Only when he was out of sight did Allie speak. “That was so awful, Dub.” Her voice came out low, and a little shaky.

Dub, looking troubled, nodded in agreement.

Allie made an effort to slow the beating of her heart and calm herself. She felt almost dizzy from everything that had just happened. Meanwhile, Hoover continued to tug at the leash, looking back the way they had come and whimpering.

“Let's sit down for a minute, okay?” Allie suggested.

They walked about twenty feet away from the road into an overgrown field and sat down under a large maple tree. Allie shrugged off her backpack and took out the little plastic bowl and the bottle of water she'd brought for Hoover, along with the plastic bag filled with some of the dog snacks she and Dub had made.

She poured some water into the bowl, placed it under Hoover's nose, and held out one of the biscuits. Hoover ignored both the water and the treat, pacing restlessly and continuing to whine unhappily.

“I've never seen her refuse food before,” Dub said.

“Me neither,” said Allie. She reached into her backpack again and took out a package of cheese. “Look, Hoover!” she cajoled, waving a slice under the dog's nose. “People food.”

Hoover sniffed once, but to Allie's amazement, paid no further attention. She sat as far away as the leash would allow, looking back toward Dundee Road and making pathetic noises.

Allie and Dub looked at each other in consternation. “What the heck is going on?” Dub asked.

“I don't know,” Allie answered. “But, Dub, the whole time we were at that house, my ghost was there. I couldn't exactly concentrate on it with everything else that was going on. I think Hoover felt it, too.”

“I think she still does,” Dub said, watching Hoover straining at her leash.

Allie nodded. “It got stronger when L.J.'s father came out of the barn. Did you notice how Hoover acted?”

“She got even more agitated when those other dogs started barking,” Dub said thoughtfully. “But they were no ghosts—they were real.”

“Yeah. So it's hard to tell if it was the ghost that was bothering her, or if she just wanted to go check out the other dogs.”

“It sure sounded like a
lot
of other dogs, didn't it?”

Allie nodded.

“What about the ghost? Do you sense it now?” Dub asked.

Allie sat very still for a moment to make sure. “No.”

“Then maybe it's something back there that's bugging Hoover,” Dub said, gesturing toward the Cutler place. “Hoover”—he pretended to beg—“talk to us, girl. Tell us what's going on.”

Hoover raised her muzzle and howled, for all the world as if she were trying to do as Dub had asked. Allie couldn't help laughing nervously, even though it upset her to see Hoover so distressed.

She took a slug of lemonade from the thermos she'd packed, and handed it to Dub. When he'd had a drink, she stood up, saying, “Let's get going. Maybe if we get farther away from here, Hoover will think about something else.”

The tactic seemed to work. Before long, Hoover was trotting happily beside Allie, sniffing each object they passed, pouncing on insects, chasing every leaf and stray bit of trash that blew in the wind.

Allie relaxed a bit on seeing Hoover acting normal again. “It was my fault L.J. messed up the cut he was making,” she said.

“You started to say it, too. But I didn't think that was too smart right then, with old man Cutler so ticked off. And what was he so mad about, anyway? One little gouge in the wood, big deal.”

“I think it was us being there that really made him mad,” Allie replied. “He acted like L.J.'s not allowed to have anybody over.”

Dub nodded in agreement. “And when the dogs in the barn barked, that set him off, too.”

“Then there was that stuff about how L.J. is just like his mother. It sure didn't sound like a compliment. I wonder where she was?”

“I don't know, but I feel sorry for her, being married to a guy like that,” said Dub. He added, “And for L.J., having him for a father.”

“Me, too,” said Allie. Then she added with frustration, “But it's hard to feel sorry for very long, you know? I mean, why did he have to be so rotten to us? Calling me Little Miss Fix-it—I hate that.”

Dub nodded in sympathy.

They were passing the bean packing plant again. The breeze carried the smell of dampness and decay, and lifted that same loose sheet of metal roofing. The sharp clang made Allie jump and quicken her steps. Suddenly, she couldn't wait to be back in the more populated area of town.

As they passed Luv'n' Pets, Allie stopped to look at the puppies. She was surprised to see that only three little furballs lay curled together in the far corner of the display window. Dub peered through the glass and said, “Hey, James is in there. Let's tell him about our business idea.”

“Okay,” Allie said. “Do you think it's all right to take Hoover in? She's on a leash.”

“Al, it's a pet store.”

James was alone in the store, cleaning out the cage belonging to a bird Allie recognized as a cockatiel. Allie knew James from seeing him outside when she'd been over at Dub's house.

James smiled at them. “Hey, what's up?”

Allie held tight to the leash as Hoover strained to get closer to the bird. Hoover's nose was going a mile a minute and her tail wagged furiously. The bird fluttered nervously around its cage.

“Sit, Hoover,” Allie commanded. To her surprise, Hoover obeyed, and sat as if mesmerized, her eyes fixed on the cockatiel.

Dub told James about their plan to sell dog biscuits at the store. James listened, nodding from time to time as he worked.

“So what do you think?” Dub asked when he'd finished.

“Healthy treats sound like a good idea,” James answered carefully.

Allie didn't think this response was very enthusiastic, but Dub seemed satisfied. “Hey, James,” she said, “I see three more puppies got sold. Did the same person buy all of them?”

A shadow passed over James's face. After a moment he said brusquely, “No.”

Allie waited for James to say more. Instead, he picked up a rag and began wiping the bottom of the cockatiel's cage. His movements were jerky and seemed to Allie to be covering a strong emotion. She looked at Dub, who apparently was as puzzled as she.

“When we were here yesterday, there were six,” Dub said. “Enid must have had a busy day.”

James didn't comment, but after a few seconds he straightened up, threw the rag to the floor, and said, “Sometimes I really hate working here!”

Allie was taken aback by the vehemence in his voice. She was pretty sure James wasn't referring to cleaning birdcages, but she had no idea what he
was
talking about.

They all stood quietly for a moment, James clenching and unclenching his hands and looking miserable. He appeared to be struggling with himself. Finally, he shook his head and said with a sigh, “Listen, I really need this job. Forget what I just said, okay?”

“Okay,” Allie answered, feeling bewildered.

“Because if Enid thinks I told you guys anything,” James went on, “I'm history.”

“Don't worry about it,” Dub said quickly.

“If you want to go into business with her, that's up to you,” James said. “Just keep me out of it.”

“No problem,” Dub said. He looked at Allie and added, “Well, I guess we'd better get going.”

She nodded. Then she said softly, “See you, James.”

“Yeah,” he answered tiredly. “Later.”

“Come on, Hoovey,” Allie said, giving the leash a gentle tug and heading for the door.

When they reached the sidewalk, Dub turned to Allie and said flatly, “That was weird.”

“Very.” She was about to say more when Dub stopped dead in his tracks. Following his gaze, she saw that he was looking toward the other side of the street, where a gray pick up truck was maneuvering into a parking spot.

L.J.'s father opened the door of the truck and started across to their side of the street. Allie immediately turned her face away, wanting no chance of another encounter with the man. Dub must have had the same thought, for he looked in the opposite direction, as well.

But they couldn't do anything to hide Hoover. The big dog's appearance was so distinctive that Mr. Cutler probably would notice her, and therefore Dub and Allie, no matter what. Hoover, however, seemed determined not to leave it up to chance. She stood stiffly, totally focused on the figure approaching from the opposite side of the street. When Mr. Cutler stepped onto the curb about twenty feet from Allie and Dub, Hoover lunged toward him so forcefully that she yanked the leash right out of Allie's hand. Then, to Allie's horror, Hoover raced right up to Mr. Cutler, barking frantically.

Not sure what to do, Allie and Dub watched as Hoover danced in circles around L.J.'s father. She feinted forward one moment, teeth bared, then reared back the next, never getting any closer than two feet from the man. All the while, she was making such a racket that other people on the street were stopping to see what was going on.

“Hoover!” Allie shouted. “Come!”

Hoover ignored her. But Mr. Cutler didn't. He raised his head and stared right at her. The menace in his eyes made her shudder. Then she and Dub both sprang into action, running to grab Hoover's leash. Together, they were able to drag her away, although she never stopped her frantic barking.

“You should learn to control that dog,” Mr. Cutler said. As he turned to leave, he added, “Or somebody's gonna do it for you.”

Allie and Dub leaned down to soothe Hoover, who was watching Mr. Cutler, and was panting and whining now instead of barking. They watched, too, as Mr. Cutler opened the door of Luv'n' Pets and disappeared inside.