Haunted Island (3 page)

Some ladies from the town came to call on Amelia, but Joshua let it be known that he didn’t welcome visitors, so the ladies stopped coming. If Amelia was lonely or unhappy, she didn’t let on. She was shy, she was plain, but she was practical. She was determined to be a good wife, and she was.

I liked to talk to Amelia, so I stuck around. That seemed to be all right with Joshua. He just set me to jobs out in the barn and the fields. I’d hurry to get to meals before Joshua would, just so I’d have a few minutes to listen to Amelia and what she had to say. She told me that she had no living relatives and had answered Joshua’s ad for a wife, which he’d put in a Boston newspaper. The gold chain, which she wore every day, was her only tie to the parents she had lost when she was young, and it was the only possession she treasured.

Amelia had very few possessions, and I don’t think Joshua gave her anything besides a thin, plain wedding ring. He was a strange person. It was easy to see that he liked Amelia. I think he actually fell in love with her. But love didn’t make him happier. It seemed to make him meaner.

He acted suspicious of anyone who spoke to her when they went to town for supplies, and was jealous of anyone she talked to. As the cold weather came on, Amelia insisted that I be allowed to spend some time after dinner in the house, where it was light and warm, instead of in the small room I’d made for myself in the barn. Joshua finally agreed, but he hardly had a word to say to me, and I honestly thought he’d soon be sending me on my way.

Shadow didn’t like Amelia, even though she gave him some choice scraps and always made sure his water bowl was filled with fresh water. I think he was jealous of her being there. He’d curl up near the fire and close his eyelids, looking as though he had gone to sleep. His breathing would be steady and heavy, whistling through his nose. But he wasn’t really asleep. If anyone had looked closely, they’d have seen tiny, gleaming slits, where he was peeking through. All evening Shadow would keep his eyes on Amelia, watching her every move. I think she was a little scared of him. I know he scared me.

One frosty morning—December 12, I well remember—I went to the house with my arms full of firewood. Amelia let me in and helped me pile the wood in the bin near the big iron stove. She’d put a big bowl of red apples on the table and arranged some short pine boughs around it.

Besides the big apron she wore over her clothes during the day, she had a cloth tied over her head. “I’m going to tackle some heavy cleaning,” she told me. She cocked her head to one side and looked at me. “Want to help?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me move some of that rubbish in the cellar.”

I gasped. “But Mr. Hanover won’t let me go into the cellar.”

Amelia shrugged. “Well, he hasn’t done a thing to clean it up, and I don’t like living over such a dump heap. End of an old year, start of a new, the house should be clean from top to bottom.”

“One day I went down just to get some carrots and potatoes from the bin,” I said, “and he got real mad. He told me never to go down there again. Didn’t he tell you that, too?”

“There’s no telling what gets that man upset,” she said, and for a moment she got a sad, faraway look, as though she was thinking about something else. Then she shook her head a little and picked up the broom. “Whatever reason he’s got for not wanting anyone down in the cellar isn’t enough,” she said. “Even though it is just a dirt floor cellar, it’s thick with dust and needs cleaning out. Besides, I’m his wife. I ought to be able to clean the cellar if I want to.”

I didn’t want Joshua Hanover to be angry with me, but I didn’t want Amelia Hanover to have to tackle that job by herself. My friendship for Amelia was stronger than my fear of Joshua. I would do anything for her, so I said, “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“Bring a lantern,” she said. “We’ll clean out every crack and corner.”

I lit a lantern and followed her down the cellar stairs.

There were boxes and barrels, and piles of old rusted tools, and a few broken bottles and jars, and some moth-eaten rags, and dirt everywhere.

“Move that big box in the corner,” Amelia said.

I did, and a rat ran out, right over my feet.

Amelia didn’t shriek. She just swatted at him with the broom, but he ducked into a hole in the wall and disappeared. “After we clean this place, let’s board up that hole,” she said.

We used an empty box to carry up loads of rubbish and dirt, and after a while the cellar began to look a lot better.

“Over there—under the stairs,” Amelia told me. “Something is crammed under there. Can you pull it out?”

I got down on my knees and tugged. It was a canvas sack of some sort and fairly heavy. I dragged it out where we could see it. The top was folded over and lashed with a buckle.

“What in the world is that?” Amelia asked. “Can you open it?”

I opened the leather thong and the buckle and spread the top of the sack wide. The lantern gleamed on the contents. Inside the sack, almost to the brim, were silver coins.

“Oh, dear!” Amelia gasped and took a step backward.

“So that’s why—” I began, but a terrible sound choked off whatever I was going to say.

Behind us, on the stairs, was a loud, growling noise. We whirled around to face the sound, and I honestly couldn’t say if the growl came from Shadow or Joshua Hanover. Shadow’s lips were pulled back, his sharp teeth bared. Joshua’s eyes gleamed as red as the light from the lantern, and his mouth was open and twisted into an angry grimace.

“Joshua,” Amelia stammered, “I—I wanted to clean this cellar, and I—I—”

Joshua opened his mouth wider, but the only sound that came out was a horrible groan.

“W
HAT DID YOU DO?”
Chris asked.

“I know what I would have liked to do,” Amos said. “I would have liked to kick up my heels and run away from that place as fast as I could.”

“But you didn’t. Or did you?” Amy asked.

“I didn’t,” Amos said, “because I was too frightened to move. Amelia’s the one who should get credit for bravery.”

“Why?” Amy leaned forward eagerly.

“I’ll tell you,” Amos said, and he rocked back and forth for a few moments before he continued his story.

Amelia stood as tall as she could and looked Joshua straight in the eyes. “It is my job to keep this house tidy and comfortable,” she said. “This cellar is part of the house.”

“You have no right to touch my money!” Joshua shouted.

“Your money is still your money, and you may keep it wherever you choose,” Amelia said. “I do not want your money, but I do want a clean house.” She pointed at the hole the rat had run into. “Without rats in it!”

Joshua’s eyes shifted to me, and I felt as though my knees were melted butter and I’d fall over at any minute. “I warned this boy to stay out of the cellar! He disobeyed me!”

“Amos told me of your orders,” Amelia said, “but I asked him to come down here to help me. Blame me for his being here, not him.” She put a hand on my shoulder and added, “He doesn’t want your money, either.”

Joshua was in control now. He had calmed down, but his features were still twisted into a ferocious scowl. “I am the only one who has known where my money is hidden.”

Amelia fingered the gold chain at her throat. Even in the lantern light I could see two bright spots of red on her cheeks and noticed that her fingers trembled just a little. “As I told you, Joshua, neither Amos nor I want any of your money. You may hide it wherever else you please. We will not look for it, although since I am your wife I would think you would trust me.”

Joshua stared at her for a long moment, then grumbled, “I trust no one.” He grabbed the sack of money, fastened it, and shoved it back under the stairs. Then he turned to face us. “Never come into this cellar again,” he snapped.

He waited while Amelia and I climbed the stairs, Shadow at our heels.

Amelia gave me a little push when we were back in the kitchen. “Go outside and get to work,” she whispered.

I was only too glad to get out of the house. My mouth was dry and my hands were clammy. I hurried into my coat and gloves and ran out to the barn.

I worked hard all day, even skipping the noon meal, afraid of seeing Joshua again. It was a strange day, too. The chickens were nervous, suddenly flapping into the air and squawking as though they’d seen a fox. The old horse—I had never heard Joshua call him anything but “Horse”—was skittish, kicking against the boards in his stall. I let him run free in the meadow, but he laid back his ears, whinnied, and galloped in one direction and then another as though he were demented. Even the birds would now and then rise from their perches in the trees in noisy clouds, swooping away like puffs of black smoke. Maybe the animals sensed the danger and fear at the Hanover farm. I didn’t understand what was causing their strange behavior.

Amelia called me to come to supper just as darkness began to settle over the land. The air was still, and although the night would again be cold, a strange, warm, sour smell seemed to come from the ground beneath my feet.

Supper was eaten in silence. Of course, Joshua usually didn’t speak, but I missed Amelia’s usual cheerful chatter. Shadow, who usually lay on the floor near Joshua’s feet, prowled the room, whimpering at the door, walking in Amelia’s path as she carried our dirty plates from the table to the drainboard.

“Shadow is acting strangely,” Amelia said.

“There is nothing wrong with Shadow,” Joshua snapped.

I piped up. “All the animals are nervous. I had a hard time catching and stabling the horse tonight. One of the chickens even flew in my face as though she were crazed.”

Joshua shook his head. “There would be no reason for the animals to act in such a manner,” he said. “You are mistaken.”

The man only believed what he wanted to believe. He could only see what he wanted to see. When Amelia invited me to bring a chair closer to the fire, I pulled on my coat instead and told her I was tired and wanted to go to bed early.

My small room in the barn was cold, but I wrapped up well in blankets and soon my body warmth made me cozy and sleepy. The horse stomped and nickered now and then, and the chickens flew up and down from the rafters instead of settling down to sleep, but I was tired enough to push the sounds out of my head and fall asleep.

I remember a dream of a horse running across wide, open fields, and I was on his back. It wasn’t Joshua’s horse under me. It was a large white animal who could run as fast as the wind blew. But then the horse began to roar with the horrible roaring of thunder, and he threw me from his back so violently that I sailed through the air and smashed against the ground.

Suddenly I awoke. I found myself sprawled against the rough barn wall as though I’d been tossed there like a sack of dried corn. The ground was shaking and heaving, and I tried to hold on. But there was nothing to hold on to. I could actually hear the crunching of rocks deep, deep beneath where I lay, and the groaning of the earth as it shifted. It was the most awful, terrifying noise I had ever heard in my life. It was the noise that nightmares are made of.

The shaking seemed to last forever. Later, someone told me the earthquake was measured in minutes and seconds, and he said that it happened around two in the morning. But during that quake I lost all sense of time.

I acted automatically, without thinking. I untied the horse and opened the barn door so he could escape. It was after I had pushed open the heavy door that I saw the far end of the barn had collapsed, leaving it open to the sky. I ran outside, too, heading for Joshua Hanover’s house.

The earth shuddered again, and I staggered, falling flat, staring up at stars and a bright moon that seemed to wobble in the sky. I still lay there after the movement stopped. I think I was waiting for it to begin again.

But when I heard Shadow’s frantic barking I sat up, then scrambled to my feet. I was close to the front door of Joshua’s house. Most of the house was standing. It was low and solidly built and had moved with the flow of the earth, but a chunk of the roof and some of the bricks in the chimney had fallen and were lying on the ground.

The door suddenly flew open, and Shadow raced outside as though he had gone crazy. Saliva was dripping from his jaws, his eyes were wide and red, and a high-pitched sound, like a scream, came from his open mouth. He tore off toward the woods.

Joshua appeared in the doorway. He was clutching the canvas sack of money. “Shadow!” he yelled at his dog. “Shadow! Come back!”

Shadow either didn’t hear him or, for the first time in his life, didn’t obey him. Shadow ran on. As he reached the edge of the woods another quake rolled under us. It was lighter than the first two, but strong enough to make me sit down hard on the ground and to topple an old pine that crashed in a shower of dust and needles.

I heard Shadow give a yelp, and wondered if he’d been hit. But then I heard him howl again, and the howl was farther away. He was all right.

Perhaps it was the first time that Joshua had ever been frightened for something or someone else. His face sagged as though it had been stretched down to his chest, and he cried mournfully, “Shadow! Wait! Come back to me!”

He dropped that sack of money by the front door and ran after his dog. He stumbled and fell a couple of times, because the land had been twisted and pulled apart into hillocks and trenches. Between the house and the road the ground had dropped about ten feet, creating a deep trench. Joshua ran next to it, veered to his right, crossed the pasture, and disappeared into the woods.

I immediately began to worry about Amelia. Was she still inside? I ran toward the house, calling her name.

Amelia appeared in the doorway, clutching the doorframe as though she expected to be thrown off her feet at any minute. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore what ladies called a “wrapper.” The gold chain around her neck glimmered in the moonlight.

“Amos!” she cried. “Are you all right?”

“I guess so. Are you?”

“Yes.” She nodded as I ran to join her. “Where’s Joshua?”