All That's Missing (11 page)

He stepped back onto the front stoop.

“Everything all right?” Bernice asked.

“She's in the bathtub,” Arlo said. “Everything's fine.”

Bernice started to get out of the car.

No.
Didn't she understand? If his grandmother was in the bathtub, that meant Bernice couldn't see her now. Arlo started thinking again.

“She said to tell you thank you for bringing me here. She asked me to get your address so she could write you a note.”

Bernice pulled the car door closed again.

She looked over at Tyrone, then stuck her head out the window.

“You sure everything's all right?” she asked.

“Yes, ma'am. I'll get a piece of paper so you can write down your address. She probably wants to send you some candy or something.”

Bernice smiled, which made Arlo's heart slow to a normal pace.

“That's all right,” Bernice said. “You tell her it was our pleasure. We're just glad we could help out.”

Please leave, please leave, please leave,
Arlo thought as he stood there nodding and grinning like an idiot.

“You take care of yourself, Ronald,” Bernice said.

“I will,” Arlo said. “Thank you again.”

Bernice waved. Then she rolled up her window and said something to Tyrone. Arlo held his breath. Finally, the car started backing out of the driveway. Arlo had never heard such a nice sound as the crackling of tires on gravel.

He stepped back inside the house, watching through the window until Tyrone's car disappeared around the curve. Then, holding his breath, Arlo stepped back outside. He paused long enough to wipe his fingerprints off the doorknob with his shirt.

Then he walked down the front steps and headed toward the road. He wasn't sure where he was going next. He would have to figure that out on the way. Like Tyrone said, Edgewater wasn't a big place. How hard could it be to find a lady named Ida Jones?

Arlo was thinking so hard that he didn't see the lady in the yard across the street.

“They're not home,” she said in a loud voice.

Arlo turned around in a full circle before he spotted her lifting a bag of mulch from the trunk of her car.

“They take a walk around this time every evening.” The lady leaned the mulch bag against her garage and walked toward the curb. “Should be home soon,” she said.

Arlo tried to smile, but the corners of his mouth were frozen in place. Fear did funny things to your body. Somehow, miraculously, he wasn't in trouble yet. But he wasn't exactly home free, either.

“You were looking for the McIlvoys, weren't you? That's their house you were in.”

Arlo's heart dropped to his stomach. The best thing to do was agree with her. When in doubt, nod your head yes.

“Thought so.” The lady moved closer to him. “Say, you're not Doris's nephew Anthony from Harrisonburg, are you?”

Arlo looked at her.

“No. You couldn't be Anthony. Doris told me he's spending this year in California with his daddy.”

She looked a little frightening. She had a sawed-off nose and a jutting-out chin, and her eyes were small and beady looking, like that rat back on the riverbank. Thinking about the riverbank reminded Arlo of home. He wondered how Poppo was doing.
Don't think about that,
Arlo told himself.
He's got nurses and a doctor, and he's doing just fine. Well — as fine as he could be . . . considering.

Arlo adjusted the backpack strap on his shoulder.

“I haven't seen you around here before, have I?” the woman asked. “Are you sure you're supposed to be going into that house without anybody home?”

A headline flashed through Arlo's mind.
LOCAL BOY ARRESTED IN VIRGINIA TOWN
. Making up lies was exhausting. Arlo couldn't think fast enough to make up another one. “Please,” he said, “could you tell me where to find Ida Jones?”

The lady frowned. “Why are you looking for her?”

Arlo kept his eyes on his feet. “We're sort of . . . related,” he said.

“Sort of?”
The lady squinted her eyes. She examined Arlo's face. Every inch of it. Especially his eyebrow, the one with the thin spot where the hairs nearly disappeared. “You'd be about the right age,” she said.

The right age for what?
Arlo took a step away from her.

“You're not . . .” The lady tapped a finger against her cheek. “No. Surely not. You couldn't be. . . . Could you?”

“Couldn't be what?” Arlo asked.

“Ida's grandson, of course. What do you think I'm talking about?” The lady leaned closer. “You
are
Arlo, aren't you?”

Arlo focused on a tiny mole on the lady's cheek. That way he didn't have to make eye contact. “Yes, ma'am,” he said. “That's who I am.”

The lady dabbed sweat off her forehead with a wrinkled tissue. “Heavenly days. Does Ida know you're coming?”

“I guess you'd have to say it's pretty much a surprise,” Arlo said.

“A surprise, is it?” The lady stuffed the tissue back in the waistband of her pants. “Isn't that interesting. But what were you doing in the McIlvoys' house?”

Arlo sighed. “I couldn't remember where my grandmother's house was,” he said. “I guess I was confused.”

“I'll say.” The lady rolled her eyes. “Ida's house is nothing like Doris and Phil's.”

“Who?”

“The McIlvoys, son.” She scratched at a mosquito bite on her neck. “Bugs are coming out. Time to go in. I suppose you might as well come in, too. I'll give Ida a call.”

“Are you good friends with her?”

The lady laughed. “Merciful heavens. I've lived in Edgewater all my life. This ain't exactly the Big Apple, in case you hadn't noticed. We all know each other around here. Ida was two years ahead of me in school.”

Arlo followed her inside.

Every room was filled with plants. Ferns. African violets. Those leafy plants like the ones Mrs. Gretzky kept in her room, philo-something-or-other — she had those, too. It was a regular forest.

“You look like you could use something to drink,” the lady said. “I've got lemonade. Would you like a glass?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“You're welcome. Have a seat there in the living room. I'll be back in a minute.”

Arlo sank onto the couch. The cushions were worn and easy to slide into. When the lady came out of the kitchen, she was carrying a tall blue glass. Ice cubes clinked inside it.

“So, you've come to see Ida, have you?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“It's about time somebody took an interest. Where's your grandfather?”

“He wanted to come, but he couldn't get away.” Arlo shifted in his seat. Poppo definitely couldn't
get away
right now. That was an undeniable fact.

The lady lifted her chin, throwing a shadow across Arlo's face.

“I thought you lived someplace near Roanoke,” she said.

“No. I live in Marshboro,” Arlo said.

The lady's jaw jutted out so sharply, it could slice off his nose. “Marshboro's a good six-hour drive from here,” she said. “What was your grandfather thinking, sending you off on a journey like that by yourself?”

Arlo's palms were sweaty. If this lady turned him in, he might never see his grandmother. She walked over to the window and flipped the blind so she could see outside.

“You still haven't answered my question. Those people. Who were they?”

He might as well get it over with. He was going to have to tell his grandmother anyway. Telling this lady would be good practice.

“Well?” The lady drummed her fingers on the windowsill.

“I met Bernice at the bus station,” Arlo said.

“You're traveling with a person you met in a bus station?”

“Bernice is real nice. She and her son Tyrone gave me a ride.”

“Unbelievable.” The lines on the lady's forehead hardened. She leaned toward Arlo. “You sure you weren't looking for something in the McIlvoys' house?”

Arlo shook his head. Was she accusing him of stealing? “No, ma'am. Really. I was just trying to figure out where my grandmother lives.”

The lady didn't look convinced. Two minutes ago, she'd been Mrs. Santa Claus. Now she was the Wicked Witch of the West.
Please.
He was tired. And hungry. And he needed to see his grandmother. Tears burned at the back of his eyelids.

Finally, she softened her gaze. “I don't mean to be so hard on you,” she said. “But I happen to know it's been years since Ida's seen her grandson. And the way things are out there in the world these days, a person can't be too careful. Especially a person of advanced years, like myself.”

“No, ma'am. I mean, yes, ma'am, I understand.”

She continued staring at him. “I suppose we might as well go ahead and call Ida now?”

“That would be nice. Thank you,” Arlo said. He held his breath. She could call the police for all he knew.

She started to say something else, but she must have thought better of it. “Why don't you just rest there on the sofa?” she said. “I'll be back in a minute.”

Arlo leaned back and stuffed a pillow under his head. He wouldn't actually sleep. He would only rest his eyes for a second. A few minutes at the most. Who knows what was happening back in Marshboro? Miss Hasslebarger must have called the police by now. They could be looking for him all over Virginia. They could have bulletins posted across the entire United States, for all Arlo knew. Any second now a police cruiser might pull up to the front door. What if Tyrone had called the authorities? Or what if a neighbor had noticed Arlo going in that empty house — a neighbor besides the jutting-out-chin lady, that is. What if someone had reported a strange boy walking into the McIlvoys' residence? If Arlo heard a siren outside, he'd be out of this house in a flash. He'd be down the sidewalk so fast, no one would know he was gone until he was so far away they'd never find him.

When the jutting-out-chin lady came back through the swinging door, Arlo jumped about three feet.

“Didn't mean to scare you, son. You're acting awful nervous. Did you do something wrong?”

“I'm just anxious to see my grandmother. It's been a long time.”

“Hmph. That's the understatement of the year. Ida said she'd be here in five minutes. I'm going to make a pot of coffee. You need anything?”

“No, thank you. I think I'll just wait here on the sofa.”

“Suit yourself.”

Arlo took a deep breath and tried to relax while the jutting-out-chin lady fixed coffee in the kitchen. Blood pumped through his body so fast, it made his knees jiggle. He stood up and walked around the room, but that didn't help either. There would be no relief until he saw Ida Jones face-to-face. And even then, there were no guarantees. What if she didn't like him? Without realizing it, Arlo squeezed his fist around the wood carving and made a wish.
Please let her like me,
he thought.

Arlo had no idea how long he'd been asleep. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep in the first place. Not in this lady's house. But he was so tired.

There was another lady standing in front of him now. She was turned to her side, so he couldn't see her face, but she wasn't a large woman, and though she looked to be on the thin side, there was something substantial about her. You could tell she wasn't the sort of person you could steamroll over. If somebody tried to push her around, she would put up a fight. That wasn't how he'd expected his grandmother to look. Shoot. What had he expected? Who knows? Photographs weren't much to go on. Especially not if they were fourteen years old, like the ones in the album back home.

“Is that him?” the new lady asked.

“Well, who else would it be?” the jutting-out-chin lady said.

“Arlo was only two the last time I saw him. I don't remember his hair being so dark.”

“Hair darkens as they get older,” the jutting-out-chin lady said. “That's what happened with Lucius.”

“Maybe you're right.”

“Of course I'm right.” The jutting-out-chin lady lowered her voice. “What do you suppose he's doing here?”

“I have no idea, Augusta. But I'd feel a lot better if Al Sabatini had called before he sent the boy to Edgewater. Unfortunately, that's not Al's style.”

“Who's Al Batini?”

“
Sa
-ba-tini. You remember.” Arlo's grandmother pronounced each syllable carefully. “Arlo's grandfather. On his mother's side.”

“Oh, him. It's a wonder that man's still alive. I remember all those stories you told me about those people.”

Those people?
Arlo pressed his eyelids tightly closed.

“Careful, Augusta. The boy might hear you.”

“I don't think so, Ida. Looks like he's sound asleep to me.”

The other lady,
his grandmother,
sniffed. “It was mostly his mother I had a problem with,” she said. “The way she tricked Wake . . . Wait a minute. Are his eyes open?”