All That's Missing (23 page)

Maywood lifted her chin. “It's just an old falling-down house,” she said. “It can't hurt us.”

“Right,” Arlo said.

The house was made of weathered gray boards, some of which had rotted away, leaving gaping holes in the walls. None of the windows had glass in them. And the front door was missing.

When a crow squawked again from the top of a giant hemlock, Arlo whipped around.

“It's following us,” Maywood whispered.

“No,” Arlo said. “It was here before we got here.”

“How do you know?”

Arlo nodded. “I saw it in that hemlock.”

“But that's worse.” Maywood shivered. “That means it knew we were coming here. Maybe it understands what we're saying.”

The wind stirred up dust from the bare dirt around the foundation. Arlo's nose twitched. He peered through the open doorway.

“We can't go in.” Maywood squared her shoulders. “The whole thing could collapse any second.”

“You mean we came all the way up here just to stand outside and look?”

Arlo tapped on the bottom step. It felt solid enough. Though Maywood put a hand out to stop him, Arlo couldn't ignore the irresistible pull to go inside.

Even afterward, he didn't fully understand what had happened. It was as if some force had lifted his foot and planted it on the step. That was followed by a splintering crunch as the wood gave way. Pain shot across the top of Arlo's foot.

As the pain subsided, he experienced the strangest sensation. It was as if a damp cloud moved over him. Or maybe
into
him, seeping through his pores. He felt cold all over. He was chilled everywhere, except for the space around the carved bird in his pocket, and that burned like fire.

“What happened?” Maywood asked. “Why did you do that?”

“I'm not . . . sure,” Arlo said. He surveyed the damage. His foot was caught in a web of splintered wood that used to be the bottom step. Gingerly he worked it free.

“You're bleeding,” she said.

“Nothing serious,” Arlo said. “Just a scratch.” The truth was, his foot was throbbing.

Meanwhile, wind whooshed up from the cellar, stirring up mildew and a foul odor that raised the hairs inside Arlo's nose.

“Phew. It smells like something dead in there,” Maywood said.

It was a supremely unpleasant odor. They both coughed. Above them, the crow squawked like crazy.

“Let's get out of here!” Maywood yelled.

“What about the bet?”

“You win. OK?” Maywood started running toward the woods.

Arlo did his best to keep up with her, though the pain slowed him down. When they stopped, she examined the angry-looking scrape on his foot. A trickle of dried blood made it look worse than it was.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

“Not much,” Arlo said. “Maybe a little.”

They kept running all the way past the brick office and down to the picnic tables at the bottom of the hill.

Arlo couldn't stop thinking about how unnatural the air around the house had felt — heavy and damp, as if there were something dead in it, something twisted and wrong. He could believe the house was haunted, the way those horrible smells seeped out of the ground around it and the way the air was thicker near the front door. Evil spirits seemed a distinct possibility.

They found an empty table and stretched out on their backs. It was late afternoon — that slow time when light turns into a golden haze on the leaves.

“Mama Reel says the last Stonehams who lived in that house were bad people,” Maywood said. “They owned slaves and treated them horribly. She says it has evil in it.”

“Now you tell me,” Arlo said, sneezing out dust.

Maywood reached in a pocket and handed him a rumpled tissue.

When Arlo sat up to blow his nose, he noticed Hafer and Boyle pedaling their bicycles up the hill.

He jabbed Maywood with his elbow.

She sat up quickly. “Yeah, and look who else is coming.” She tilted her head in the direction of the black sedan making the turn up Cemetery Hill.

They waited until the car was out of sight.

“Come on,” Maywood said. “Let's get out of here.”

Arlo was silently grateful she did not want to follow them up the hill. The incident at the haunted house must have really upset her. It was kind of a relief to know there was something that scared her. Still, how strange that she loved reading about ghosts so much, but could not handle the real thing.

Mama Reel was sitting on the patio sipping a glass of iced tea while a citronella candle burned on the table.

“Been wondering if something happened to you,” she said. “Bet you went in that old Stoneham place, didn't you?”

Funny how she used the word
bet.

“How'd you know?” Maywood asked.

Mama Reel gave them a funny smile. “Old ladies know things sometimes,” she said, tapping the side of her head.

“We didn't actually go inside. Arlo tried to, but . . .”

“My foot got stuck,” Arlo finished for her.

“Is that right?” Mama Reel said. “You ought to know better than to go messing with evil spirits. Let's have a look at it.”

“I'm OK,” Arlo said.

Mama Reel pointed at an empty chair. “I'll be the judge of that,” she said. “Come on over here.”

Arlo sat in the chair. He held his foot up as she moved over to examine it.

“Mercy, you've had a tug-of-war with the spirits, haven't you? Whose bright idea was it to go up there, anyway?” She looked straight at Maywood. “As if I didn't know.”

“We only stayed a second,” Maywood said.

“Mmm-hmmm. Long enough for them to do their work, wasn't it?” She leaned closer and inspected the scratch on Arlo's ankle. “Doesn't look too bad. Still, you're lucky you made it out of there in one piece. Come on in the bathroom so I can clean it for you and put something on it.”

“I'll just wait out here,” Maywood said.

“Girl can't stand the sight of blood,” Mama Reel whispered. She led Arlo to the bathroom. “You need to be careful what you let her talk you into. Maywood's headstrong. She doesn't stop to think.”

“I noticed,” Arlo said.

Mama Reel chuckled. “Smart boy,” she said. “'Course, you had to learn the hard way, didn't you?”

Arlo shrugged. “Could be worse, I guess.”

She propped his foot on the side of the tub and sat on the lid of the toilet seat. “Let me warm the water up before we wash it.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You know, having you here's been good for that girl. Maywood doesn't have many friends. There was a girl in her class named Cassie, but her family moved to Baltimore last fall. It's been hard on Maywood ever since.”

“Some of the kids aren't very nice to her.”

“You're talking about those two boys now, aren't you? Those two don't treat anybody right.” Mama Reel spread ointment on Arlo's wound. “Sure wish you could stay. Seems a shame to send you back to Marshboro when you're just getting to know Ida after all these years.”

“I'm not sure Ida would like that.”

“Shoot, Arlo. You don't know anything, do you?” Mama Reel shook her head at him. “Keeping you here is what she wants more than anything. Maybe she hasn't told you that. May not realize it herself, poor soul. That woman's spent her life trying to smother feelings inside. It's what she had to do to survive life with your granddaddy. No offense, but he wasn't a nice man.”

“That's what everybody says.”

Mama Reel tossed the used cotton pad in the wastebasket. “Slocum made life hard on a lot of folks, especially your daddy.”

“Is it true my dad gave up a scholarship to get married?”

Mama Reel grunted. “You don't pussyfoot around when you start asking questions, do you?”

Arlo shrugged.

Mama Reel focused on wringing out the wet washcloth. “Ida's the one who needs to answer that question.”

“I know, but she won't talk about it.”

“Don't I know that?” Mama Reel looked him dead in the eye.

“Poppo told me that he and Ida didn't get along on account of my mom and dad running off and getting married. But I didn't even know that until just before I came here. And now, everywhere I go, people keep asking me how come I don't know my grandmother.” Arlo held his hand up in a sign of resignation. “It's not my fault. Nobody ever told me the truth.”

“I know that, Arlo.” She glanced at the ceiling, as if she were asking for help. “You put an old lady on the spot, don't you? If I answer your questions, do you promise not to tell Ida?”

“I promise,” Arlo said.

“Then you better listen close, 'cause I'm only going to say this once.” She stopped for a moment and took a slow, deliberate breath. “Hope I'm doing the right thing,” she said.

“You are,” Maywood said from the door behind them.

“Where did you come from?” Mama Reel asked.

“It was getting cold out there,” Maywood said. “And I was lonely.”

“Lordy, now I've got two mouths to worry about keeping quiet. You promise not to tell?” she asked Maywood.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“All right. But we don't have to do this in the bathroom, do we?” Mama Reel stood up and made a shooing motion toward the door. “Go on out in the living room,” she said.

Arlo and Maywood sat down first and waited for Mama Reel to pour herself another glass of tea before she joined them. Arlo felt so jumpy, it was hard to sit still.

“There's a few things you need to understand first. All right?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Arlo said.

“Number one. Living with Slocum Jones was no picnic. For Ida or your daddy. You got that?”

“Got it,” Maywood said.

“Was I talking to you?” Mama Reel asked.

“Sorry,” Maywood said.

“That's all right,” Mama Reel said. “Only go back to listening and don't talk.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good.”

Mama Reel turned to Arlo. “Number two. Your daddy was the only bright spot in Ida's life. She adored that boy. And it nearly killed her when he died. But that stone-hearted grandfather of yours expected her to go on taking care of him like nothing had ever happened. She did take care of him, too. Till the day he died. Lord only knows why. There wasn't an ounce of give in that man.”

“Everybody talks about how unfriendly he was, but nobody ever says what he did.”

“We're getting to that. Number three. Your granddaddy Slocum is the one who ran your daddy off. It wasn't your mother.”

“How'd he do that?”

“Orneriness. Greed. Stupidity. He was filled up with all those things. Wanted your daddy to be just like him. But Wake was having none of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mercy. You're not going to settle for less than the whole story, are you?”

Arlo smiled as he shook his head.

“OK. Here's the saga of Slocum Jones and S. W. J. Pressure-Treated Lumber Company.”

Maywood chimed in. “I've heard about them. They're the ones who were poisoning the water.”

“Did I ask for your help?” Mama Reel said.

Maywood pouted.

“Your granddaddy manufactured lumber for outdoor decks and the like. He started back before people knew about what the chemicals from that stuff did to the environment. Things changed, but that didn't slow him down. He kept on doing things the old way, even after the government told him he needed to change. They fined him. Even shut him down temporarily. But Slocum kept sneaking around the regulations.”

“What's that got to do with my mom and dad getting married?”

“I'm getting to that. You see, Slocum wanted your daddy to take over the family business. But Wake wanted no part of that. He and Slocum hadn't gotten along for years. That's why Ida started sending him to camp.”

Arlo thought about how Ida had reacted when she saw the wood carving. He took it out of his pocket and held it up for Mama Reel to see. “Does this have anything to do with it?”

“The eagle,” she said.

“Can I see it?” Maywood asked.

When Arlo handed her the carving, Maywood held it carefully in her hand.

“That carving has everything to do with it,” Mama Reel said. “Chemicals were killing eagles and osprey, not to mention the fish. Your daddy couldn't stand that. When he refused to go into the business, Slocum threw him out of the house. That didn't accomplish much, because your daddy was already going off to college. He'd managed to win a scholarship. But only for the first year. After that, he was on his own.”

“Why does Ida say my mother made my dad drop out of school?”

Mama Reel gave Arlo a funny look. “When time came for Wake's second year of college, he had a family to support.”

Arlo thought about the photos of himself as a baby with his parents. “You mean, they were already married?”