Finders Keepers (12 page)

“But you didn't see it with your own eyes!”

“Look, my mother was convinced about the curse. The whole time we hid the money, it just brought on God's wrath.”

“What exactly happened?”

“My father dropped dead from a heart attack. He died so fast he still had his fingers wrapped around a whiskey bottle when they found him. A storm ripped the roof off our house. We had a kitchen fire at the restaurant. My uncle nearly drowned. This whole area was hit by drought.” Grumpa coughed and gross things rattled in his chest. He sighed. “She wanted to do something good with it, but she was afraid. She changed her mind about that money at least once a day. It tore her up.”

“So one day she just says to you, ‘I burned the money.'”

“Well, she said she didn't know what to do and she didn't want to burden me and she thought it'd be best if she'd burned it.”

“She
thought
? Or she
did?
”

“Hell's bells!”

“You're not sure, are you?”

“I didn't see it with my own eyes, but she said she did.”

Grumpa reeled in his line. His bait was gone—snatched from the hook without his noticing. He opened the Styrofoam container and plucked a worm from the dirt. His thick fingers threaded the worm onto the hook. With a stretch, he cast his line back into the water.

“Grumpa, I have this feeling,” I said. “I don't think she actually burned the money.”

He grunted and shook his head.

“If she thought there was a way to make the curse lift without burning the money, don't you think she would've tried it?”

“If she did, she kept it a secret, and she took the secret to her grave.”

I wondered what Mrs. Hillary Clark might have been thinking and feeling. Every time she made a steak at the restaurant, was she thinking about Capone and her husband and her son? Was she thinking about how much easier life was before that suitcase showed up and changed everything?

I was going to say these things to Grumpa, but he was staring into the water. His eyes were soft, lost in thought and memories so deep he didn't notice a fish tugging his bobber under the water.

*   *   *

That night I woke to the sound of sniffles. I dropped my head over the side of the bunk. From upside down I saw Amelia propped up on pillows, crying.

“What's wrong?” I whispered.

Amelia dabbed her tears with the sheet. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Maybe I would.”

“It's complicated.”

“You woke me up. You might as well tell me.”

She sighed. “Fine, but I can't talk with your face hanging upside down like that.”

I rolled over, jumped down, and sat on the edge of her bunk. She let out a sob. “It's the cabin! I can't believe Mom and Dad are selling it.”

I thought I must be dreaming. Amelia cared about the cabin, and she was wiping her nose with the sheet, like she used to do, instead of getting up and looking for a tissue. Amelia My Sister!

“Maybe we should try talking to them together. Our tag-team thing we do,” Amelia said. “Then they'd have to listen.”

Weeks ago—even a few days ago—Amelia's plan would've been brilliant. That was before I'd seen my dad cry and Grumpa's faraway eyes.

“We could, but … I don't know. Mom and Dad are feeling pretty bad,” I said.

“What? I don't get it. I thought you'd do anything to save the cabin.”

“I thought you hated the cabin.”

“Hate it? Are you crazy? If we sell the cabin, I'll never get to see Matt again!” Then she started to blubber cry.

Matt? Matt Cat-Brat? “So what? You can text him, can't you?”

“You can't have a real relationship through a phone, Christa. You don't get it.” She sounded annoyed. “He's so sweet. He's always helping me keep up with my tables at the restaurant. He keeps an eye on my tips because there's this waiter we think is stealing.”

“That's nice. We need the money.”

“Then there's that play date he helped arrange with his cousin Quincy. He cares about Alex having a real friend. That's how sweet he is.”

I guess I was too tired to talk, because there were no words in my head except
real friend
. A
real friend
for Alex, thanks to Amelia's sweet boyfriend. Was I driving Alex crazy the way I'd driven Amelia crazy? Was I not a real friend?

“Oh.” That's all I said.

“Never mind. Just go to sleep. You'll understand this stuff when you're older.”

I was still growing too slow.

 

FISH AND VISITORS

More than anything, I wanted to tell Alex about the loot and how his great-grandmother didn't burn it, maybe. But I didn't know if we were still friends, and I didn't get a chance to find out. My parents decided to keep us apart one more day since Amelia didn't have to work.

Instead of sending me to Grumpa's, they told her to go fishing with me. As soon as they left for work, she got out her phone and invited Matt Pat-That and his buddy Travis to join us.

Four people casting lines at the end of the dock doesn't work. There are too many hooks in the air. Didn't matter, though, because the only things Amelia The Princess wanted to catch were princes. Travis seemed to like Amelia as much as Matt, and Amelia seemed to know it and love it. Matt and Travis were tripping over each other in a war of charm.

“I haven't fished in years,” Amelia said. Her mini-shorts showed off tan legs, and her hair was pulled into a messy bun, like she'd spent only two seconds twisting her golden locks into a band. Actually she needed a half hour in front of a mirror, plus gel and hairspray, to make her hair look like that.

“Want me to bait your hook?” Travis asked.

“I just did my nails so, yes, thanks.”

Travis blushed as he said, “Why don't you fish from the lawn chair? Then you don't have to stand.”

“I've got the worms,” Matt said. “I'll hook her up.”

Amelia smiled as she relaxed in the lawn chair.

Matt and Travis reached down to get the container of night crawlers. In their clumsy wrestle, the container fell, scattering dirt and worms across the dock. A couple of worms dropped into the lake, making a hook-free meal for some fish.

I got on my knees and scraped the contents back into the container. I held one worm between my thumb and finger and waved it hypnotist style in front of Amelia's face. “You are getting very sleepy!”

“Get that worm away from my face!” She smacked my arm.

“Get your face away from my worm!”

Travis nabbed the worm from my fingers. “I've got it.”

While I fished, Amelia, Matt, and Travis swapped stories about working at Clarks Pizza. I tried to ignore them. The buzz of deer flies was more interesting than their stories.

Grumpa and Alex walked down the slope with their fishing gear. Grumpa nodded hello as they set up their gear at the end of their dock, which was about thirty feet from ours. I yelled, “Hi!” but Alex didn't answer. He didn't even look at me.

Alex was holding a different fishing pole, a new pole. They weren't far away, but a fishing pole is very skinny. I dug through the bag with our gear and pulled out Dad's old binoculars. I kneeled next to Amelia and peeked around her chair with the binoculars.

Amelia stopped talking to the boys. “Christa, what are you doing?”

“Bird watching.”

She rolled her eyes and continued her story about a cook who covered a pizza with peppers instead of pepperoni.

With the binoculars I could see Alex holding a hunter green WildPro Rod and Reel, classic series. Grumpa had bought him a new fishing pole, and not just any old pole. The WildPro Rod and Reel had a graphite core coated in fiberglass. I'd seen them in Nan's shop. I remembered the packaging as though it were in front of me.
The WildPro Rod and Reel offers greater control, fewer tangles, and superior performance
.

And here I was with my stinky old Struken rod-and-reel combo. Alex was too stupid to know the difference between a WildPro and a Struken. Alex couldn't even tell the difference between bobber movements, whether the line had snagged a fish or weeds.

Grumpa put one hand on Alex's shoulder and the other on his arm, showing Alex how to swing back the line and snap it forward. The bobber landed with a plop about five feet away. I heard Grumpa say, “Not bad, kid. Let your wrist do the work. Your arm's just a guide.”

From the shore a voice called, “Let go of the button just as you snap your wrist!” I was about to yell the same thing, but Neil had said it first. He'd been standing on shore. Slowly he walked down the dock. He stood a few feet behind them, watching Alex get casting lessons from Grumpa.

Travis's voice got my attention. In a whisper he was telling Amelia, “You're so lucky you didn't have to work for him. Such a crackpot.”

Then Matt Spat-Gnat whispered, “There's a walk-in freezer in the basement from when they used to serve steaks and fancy food. That's where he hides money. He doesn't trust banks.”

“So he trusts cheap padlocks and an ancient freezer but not a bank?” Amelia snorted.

Travis quietly laughed. “Ed Clark hangs on to his money tighter than a leech on a dog's belly.”

I wanted to push all three of them in the lake. “Stop it! You're mean!”

“Keep it down,” Amelia said. “They'll hear you.”

“Stop talking about them and their money. You don't know anything about it.”

Matt cocked his eyebrow. “Oh, and you do?”

“Christa spends a lot of time with the Clarks.” Amelia shot me a shut-up-or-else look. “Maybe too much time.”

Matt asked, “What have the Clarks been telling you?”

I mumbled, “Nothing.”

“Come on, Christa.” Matt spoke slowly, like I was a baby. “We aren't going to tell anyone. It's not like we'd steal his money. We're just curious, that's all.”

“He said if anyone touches his money, he'll cut off their fingers and use the tips for bait.”

Amelia sort of waved me away with her hand and started talking about a mean customer. I looked at Alex. He pulled his pole back and released the line in a perfect arc. Grumpa clapped and called out, “You're a heck of a student!”

I yelled, “You're a heck of a teacher, Grumpa!”

Neil nodded. I swear he even smiled.

That evening, a car drove up to the Clarks' house. I pulled down the blinds on the window so I could watch through the slats without being seen. Parents and two boys got out of the car.

One boy looked exactly Alex's age. The other was younger. Neil and the parents talked while the boys ran toward the lake.

Dad touched my shoulder. “What's up, sweetie?”

“Who are those people?”

“That's Nan's son, daughter-in-law, and her grandkids. Nan arranged for them to visit so Alex could meet some kids from school. Neil and Sally want him to make some friends before school starts.”

I dropped to the couch and crossed my arms. Suddenly Nan felt like a traitor. “He's being a huge baby. It was just a stupid tree.”

“Alex is a nervous kid. He was scared, Christa. I know Alex and Quincy were being mean to you, and that's not okay, but the difference between what they did to you and what you did to them has an important distinction. They could've been hurt, physically hurt. Do you understand?”

“I do. But it seems like nobody wants us to be friends anymore.”

“That's not the case. You both needed time to think. Tomorrow is probably the time for apologies, okay? You're still friends. I'm sure of it.”

Mom poked her head out of the bedroom. “Everyone get ready. We're going out for pizza. Shawn Weller is bringing some people to look at the cabin, so we need to clear out.”

 

AN APOLOGY AND ANOTHER APOLOGY

For the first time ever, Clarks Pizza was the worst place in Hayward and in the world, basically. Shawn Weller was selling our cabin while my family huddled around a big pepperoni pizza. Every time I wanted to cross my arms and pout, I stopped myself. I thought about my parents crying, how sad they'd been, how Dad blamed himself.

I'd swallowed so much sadness there was no room for pizza.

Mom asked, “Why aren't you girls eating?”

I shrugged while Amelia typed into her phone like she hadn't heard Mom. Dad clutched her arm. “Put that down and eat with your family, please.”

Her sigh was big like a hurricane. She put the phone on the table and picked up a fork. Amelia poked her pizza but didn't eat.

Dad asked, “What's wrong?”

“Doesn't matter,” she said. “Nobody cares.”

Now Dad sighed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Amelia, clearly something is bothering you. What is it?”

“Am I the only person who cares about selling the cabin? I finally made friends up here. Years and years of not knowing a single person, just Christa, and now I meet these cool people from the restaurant and I'll never see them again.” There were princess tears in her princess eyes.

“I'm sorry about your friends, Amelia,” Dad said.

Mom nodded. “We're sorry, honey. We are. But you can stay in touch online, and you can invite them to visit us at home.”

“Why'd they want to come to our stupid town? There aren't any lakes or woods or anything special. Am I supposed to take them to a
mall
? God, Mom, you just don't get it.”

Amelia slid her plate across the table in a huff. Mom and Dad looked like they'd been smacked. They looked tired and sad and sick of everything.

“It's not all about you, Amelia. Maybe you could do us a favor and grow up.” I pulled a napkin from the dispenser and placed it in her lap. “Does anyone else need a napkin?”

Dad blinked a couple times. I think he was waiting for me to throw the napkin in Amelia's face, but I didn't. I gave a napkin to Dad.