Crandalls' Castle (11 page)

Chapter Seventeen

SOPHIA'S JOURNAL

Today started off well enough—very well, actually. The twins and Mickey and I went to the beach, which is something I wouldn't have thought of doing a few weeks ago. I know the kids now, and they know me. Terry is the twin who thinks up exciting things to do, and Gene is the one who does them—and gets into trouble. If you keep Terry busy and safe, Gene will be okay. Today they decided to build a whole city of sand—houses and walls, even a park.

Mickey and I gathered twigs to make trees in the park. Mickey is the best little kid in the world, always smiling and just thrilled when his brothers don't shoo him away from what they're doing. If I ever have a baby, I want him to be just like Mickey.

When we went home about three-thirty, Charli was sitting on the Franzes' front steps with Lilly. Lilly called, “Look! Charli's feeling better! I made her come out to soak up some sun.” Then she pointed up at my bedroom windows so I would see the new curtains.

I crossed the street, thinking I'd sit with them for a while, but I could feel Charli hoping I wouldn't. So I plopped Mickey on the grass in front of them and left Terry and Gene to brag about all their good work at the beach.

The curtains are beautiful. Lilly made them from a bedsheet and added wide blue ribbon tie-backs, the same shade as the blue in her mother's quilt. I sat on the bed and admired them, and then I put on my running shoes. A good long run sounded like the right end to the day.

I slipped out the back door and through the trees at the end of the yard, then along the field to the curve where Lincoln Street turns into a gravel road. There was no one else around as I started to run, and when I reached Barker Street, it was empty, too. Will's truck and a plumber's van were in front of the Castle, but the kids who usually hang out in the street weren't there today.

I ran one more block and then turned toward the lake road, where I'd walked with the boys earlier. The sun was bright, and the breeze off the lake was just starting to turn cool. I just about flew! It was perfect—that moment at the top of the roller coaster ride just before the car starts hurtling down.

At the end of the beach there's a sort of breakwater made of boulders and big chunks of concrete. I slowed down and looked out over the lake. It was ridged with tiny glittering ripples, and there was a row of sailboats bobbing along like toys. I sat on a rock, thinking about nothing except how lucky I was to be there. And then, so quickly I couldn't believe it, the happy feeling began to fade. The lake was still there, and the sun and the boats, but I wasn't. I was in St. Joseph's Hospital in Madison. I saw green walls and the high, white bed, and I saw my great-grandmother lying gray-faced and still. She looked almost the way she'd looked the last time I saw her—but different, too. I closed my eyes and waited. When I opened them, I was back on the breakwater, with the lake and the sand and the sun. A gull landed a few feet away. He must have thought I'd stopped for lunch, because he walked stiff-legged in front of me, searching for crumbs.

I slid off the rock and started to run back the way I'd come. All I could think of was that I had to get home to the Crandalls as fast as possible. I wanted their talk and their jokes and their crazy games to crowd out what I'd just seen. I wanted to hug Mickey and hear him laugh. I imagined the kitchen full of late-afternoon light and good smells, with Lilly at the stove and the baby in his high chair.

I was concentrating so hard that I almost bumped into Charli halfway up the beach. She was at the edge of the road, just standing there, and when I got close enough I could see her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying.

“Lilly sent me,” she said. “She wants you to come home right away.”

“That's what I'm doing,” I snapped. I really hated her right then—she doesn't have a clue how lucky she is. “Why are you crying?” I said, mean as poison. “It's not
your
great-grandmother who's dead.”

As soon as the words were out, I knew what I'd done, but it was too late. Her eyes got huge behind her glasses.

“How'd you know?” she asked. “Somebody just called Lilly from Madison a few minutes ago. How'd you know?”

I didn't answer. I couldn't. We stared at each other for what seemed like a long time, and finally she said, “Go ahead and run if you want to.”

I ran, glad to get away. When I turned off the lake road I glanced back and she was still standing there, staring out at the water. Probably wondering whom she should tell first about weird Sophia.

Chapter Eighteen

SOPHIA'S JOURNAL

Lilly was on the phone making plans when I got back to the house. She threw her arms around me and told me how sorry she was about my loss. Then she said she realized I'd want to go to the funeral, and I didn't have to worry because she and I would go to Madison together.

“Charli can come with us if she wants to,” she said. “It would do her good to get away for a day. I just talked to Mary Kramer down the street, and she'll watch the boys while Dan is at work.”

That was two days ago, and until we left this morning I kept trying to get up the nerve to tell her I didn't want to go. What's the point? My great-grandmother won't know I'm there, and if she did know she wouldn't care. I was just a stranger she'd had to look out for.

In the end I didn't say it, because Lilly is my ideal person. She's kind and good and she loves everyone. If she knew what I'm like inside, she'd be shocked.

The Franzes let us take their car so we wouldn't have to take the bus to Madison. I hoped Charli would stay home, but no luck. When we went outside, there she was, sitting cross-legged in the backseat, waiting. I said hi, but I didn't look at her. I was sure she was waiting for a chance to ask again how I knew my great-grandmother was dead before anyone told me.

It's a good thing Lilly likes to talk—I don't think she even noticed how quiet her passengers were. She talked about the weather and Dan's job and how hard Will was working at the Castle, and how the twins were growing so fast she'd have to buy them new clothes to start kindergarten. She didn't mention the funeral once, so there were minutes at a time when I could pretend this was just a little holiday trip on a pretty summer day. Then I'd feel Charli's eyes boring into the back of my head, and it stopped being a holiday.

I'd never been to a funeral before, not even my mom's. I guess whoever was taking care of me then decided I was too young. My great-grandmother's service was in a big old funeral home that smelled of disinfectant. We sat in a row, Lilly and Charli and me, in front of the closed-up casket, while an organ played in another room and the funeral director read from the Bible and said some prayers. Lilly squeezed my hand and wiped her eyes once or twice, and I felt bad because I didn't feel bad, if you know what I mean. I know my great-grandmother couldn't help the way she was, but I can't pretend I'll miss her. Not even to satisfy Lilly.

When the service was over, I turned around and there—sitting right behind us—was Rita, the social worker from St. Joseph's Hospital. That scared me! Until that moment it hadn't occurred to me that my great-grandmother's death would make a difference in whether I stayed or didn't stay with the Crandalls. But when I saw Rita, I knew it made a
big
difference. Social workers have rules for everything. She had asked Lilly if I could stay in Mount Pleasant while my great-grandmother was in the hospital. Now that she's dead, I'll have to go back to Sacramento.

Rita patted my shoulder and asked how I was, but she didn't fool me. It was Lilly she'd come to see. She said, “You girls must be tired of sitting—why don't you take a little walk while we chat?” As if we were Gene and Terry's age.

I wanted to stay right there to hear every word they said, but Lilly looked so worried and sad, I didn't argue. Her cheerful chatter on the way to Madison had been a big cover-up for the bad news she knew was coming.

The heat was fierce when we stepped out onto the wide front porch of the funeral home. I started down the steps but Charli stopped me.

“It's too hot,” she said. She pointed to a swing at the far end of the porch. “Let's sit. I have to ask you something.”

Well, here it comes, I thought. And then I realized it didn't matter now—let her ask. Rita was in there telling Lilly what was what, and nothing Charli told them about me was going to make any difference.

“I knew my great-grandmother was dead because I saw her,” I said flat out, hoping to shock her. “I saw her in her hospital room and I looked at her and I knew. It happens to me that way sometimes, like a dream, only I'm awake and what I see is real.”

She stared at me. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course it's the truth,” I said. “How else could I have known?”

She said, “You might have guessed. That's what I thought. I thought you were worried about your great-grandmother, and so you just guessed. Anyway,” she went on, “that isn't what I want to ask. Tell me what you saw in the Castle Friday morning—just before I went home.”

Went home? I thought. Ha! That was a pretty funny way to describe how she'd dashed out of the house.

“The living room got dark,” I said. “It was dark outside, too. I thought a storm was coming, but it never happened. Period.”

She looked disappointed. “Is that all? Didn't you see anything—a person—reflected in the glass?”

I shook my head. “No ghost, if that's what you mean. People only see ghosts if they want to believe they are there. You believe so—”

“Then I suppose you think the Castle's a really neat place,” she said angrily. “I suppose you think millions of people are going to want to stay there.”

I tried to find a way to answer without saying too much. “Well, I wouldn't stay there myself,” I said. “I think there's something wrong, but I don't know what.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think it the way you thought your great-grandmother was dead?”

“Sort of.”

Her anger melted. “Okay then,” she said. “That's good. You can tell Uncle Will and my folks that we shouldn't work there anymore. Tell them William Herndon's aunt went crazy in the Castle when he was a baby and tried to suffocate him! She's still hanging around there, and we can prove it. Dan and I heard a woman singing and a baby crying upstairs even though now he won't admit it happened. And before that I saw the shadow of a cradle in the living room. And you were there this week when everything went dark, even if you didn't see the—see Jennifer—in the window. Tell them it's a horrible house with an awful ghost wandering around looking for the baby she tried to kill!”

She had it all figured out, and if everything she said was true, she might even be right. Still, I didn't want any part in it.

“Let's tell Uncle Will together,” she coaxed. “I'll be there, but you talk. He thinks you're really smart. So does Ray—they think I'm faking and being silly, but they'll believe you.”

I said, “They won't believe me, because I'm not going to tell them any of that. I've never seen a ghost, so just leave me out of it, okay?”

I felt like such a rat. I knew how scared she was. She'd hoped I would help, and instead I was making her feel worse—more alone—than ever.

It was a relief when the door of the funeral home opened and Lilly and Rita came out onto the porch—a relief, except that they both looked grim.

Chapter Nineteen

CHARLI

“Nobody can tell him anything,” Ray said. “Once the guy gets an idea in his head he's stubborn as a mule. Now he thinks the bank will lend him enough money to replace all the plumbing in that old wreck.”

Charli followed the voice to the kitchen. Uncle Will again, she thought tiredly. She'd been thinking a lot about Uncle Will on the way back from Madison and had begun to realize something painful. Even though she loved him a lot, there were times when she didn't like him much. Right now, for instance, she didn't mind Ray saying he was as stubborn as a mule.

“Charli!” Her mother's smile was as warm as a hug. “How did the day go? How is Sophia? I've been thinking about you and Aunt Lilly all day. Was the funeral very sad?”

“Sort of.” Charli pictured the dreary room in the funeral home with its rows of empty folding chairs. “Aunt Lilly cried.”

“Your Aunt Lilly is a rare bird,” Ray said. “She feels sorry for everyone but herself. How about Sophia?”

Charli shrugged. “She's all right, I guess. Nobody talked on the way home.”

Her mother and Ray looked at each other. “Was anyone else at the funeral?” Rona asked.

“A lady,” Charli said. “She and Aunt Lilly talked for a while.”

Another meaningful glance.

Her mother set the salad bowl and a basket of rolls on the table. Then she sat down and reached for Charli's hand and Ray's. “This is so nice,” she said, “the three of us together. It's good to be able to talk things over at the end of the day.” She squeezed Charli's hand and Charli squeezed back.

“I just hope your appetite has come back,” Rona said. “You still look pretty pale, hon.”

“I'm okay,” Charli said. “Aunt Lilly bought ice-cream cones on the way home so …”

She let the words trail off, aware that Ray was watching her as he buttered a roll. “Dan and the kids were here a while ago,” he said with a grin. “He had some news that's going to make you feel better, I think. The water's been turned off at the Castle, so you and Sophia won't be able to work there for a few days. Too bad, huh?”

Charli took a deep breath. With each passing mile of the trip home she had become more confused about what she would do next. Sophia had been her only hope, and she'd refused to help. That meant Charli had three choices, all bad. She could go on pretending to be too sick to work. She could tell her mother and Ray about the ghost and hope they would believe her. Or—and this was the worst—she could go back to work in the Castle.