Mysterious Signal (13 page)

When Caleb left, Libby once again took out her sewing
scissors, needle, and thread. This time she worked on the kitchen table, and Annika helped her.

As they sewed two more money belts, Libby felt glad that Auntie Vi had insisted that she learn how to sew. But Libby still needed bootlaces and felt unwilling to return to the store. When Annika offered some, Libby accepted them gratefully.

With the money belts ready to use, Libby looked forward to traveling on. “If all goes well, I’ll see Pa tomorrow night,” she said.

“When you travel so much, what does your father do about your schooling?” Annika asked, as if that were the first thing a teacher would want to know.

“Pa teaches us on the boat.”

“Oh, he does? What does he teach you?”

“Everything. When we go up and down the river he makes it a geography lesson. When we come into an important port, he expects us to know its history.”

Now that Annika asked, Libby realized the importance of what Pa did. “Most of all, he tries to teach us how to live. He wants us to know what it means to believe in the Lord. And he wants us to live what we believe.”

Libby thought about it some more. “Pa especially likes to teach the Declaration of Independence. What it meant to our founding fathers. What it means now. We keep coming back to one part—‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal—’”

Annika joined her. “‘That they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.’”

“You teach the Declaration too!” Libby exclaimed.

Annika smiled. “I teach it often.”

When Peter came in, he wanted to show them his new secret entrance in the barn. By putting shelves in just the right place, he had hidden every crack of the opening into the secret room.

“We can use you on the
Christina!
” Libby wrote on the slate, then added four exclamation marks. Peter’s pleased smile told Libby how much her praise meant.

In the house again, Annika took them into the sitting room. There she folded back the cover of the large square grand piano. As she started to play, Peter listened.

The thought surprised Libby. Then she realized that was exactly what Peter was doing. He stood leaning against the piano, his hands and ear to the wood. And he truly was listening.

Watching him set Libby to thinking.
So Peter can feel vibrations with a piano. Does it have to be a musical instrument—something like a piano or drum? Or can he feel the vibration of someone pounding on a piece of wood?

When Annika stopped playing to take a blueberry pie from the oven, Libby asked Peter about it.

“It’s just my ears that can’t hear,” he told her. “There’s nothing wrong with my body.”

Libby wrote on the slate. “Let’s make up some more secret signals.”

Judging by Peter’s grin, he liked the idea. As Libby went to the piano, he again leaned against it with his hands and ear to the wood.

On the slate Libby wrote
yes
. Without allowing Peter to see, she pounded one key three times.

“Yes,” Peter said. Reaching over, he pounded a key three times.

“No,” Libby wrote, then pounded a key two times.

When Peter did the same, it became a game. Soon they had figured out secret signals for Libby’s name, Peter’s, Jordan’s, and Caleb’s. Best of all, the scared look that had been in Peter’s eyes earlier that day was gone.

By the time Caleb returned, Annika had left to talk with a neighbor. The aroma of newly baked blueberry pie filled the air. Libby and Peter sat at the kitchen table, each devouring a big piece.

“News for you, Libby,” Caleb said as he dropped a paper on the table.

“Bad news?” Libby’s heart jumped. “Did something happen to Pa?”

Caleb shook his head. “No. Nothing like that. But there was another message from him. Something he wants you to know.”

Caleb handed her the telegram. Eagerly Libby started to read.

Libby looked up. “Lonesome for me? How can Auntie be lonesome for me?”

“Keep reading,” Caleb answered.

Libby threw down the telegram. “Auntie Vi is coming for a visit? I can’t be reading this. Tell me it isn’t true!”

CHAPTER 11

W
hen Peter picked up the telegram and read it aloud, Libby discovered it really was true. The words were there in black-and-white, just as awful as Libby had first imagined them. And there was more.

“Your pa said to be kind to your Aunt Vi.”

“Kind!” Libby wailed. “That is the last straw! Pa tells me to be kind when she treated me the way she did? She told Pa that I embarrassed her in front of her friends.”

“You embarrassed her?” Caleb’s blue eyes were as innocent as a baby’s. “How did you ever manage to do that?”

“She caught me swimming,” Libby wrote for Peter’s sake. “She said a proper young lady would
never
swim.”

“What’s wrong with swimming?” Peter asked. “I’m a good swimmer.”

In that time when many people were not able to swim, Libby knew that Peter’s accomplishment was important. It was unusual that both she and Caleb were good swimmers. Caleb’s grandmother had insisted that he learn when they came to live on the
Christina
. But Jordan did not know how, and it had almost cost him his life.

“I
am
a good swimmer,” Peter insisted.

Libby knew that if he said something, it would be true, but she wasn’t going to be sidetracked. “It’s okay if you swim,” she wrote to Peter. “You aren’t a girl. Auntie Vi said I’m a tomboy.”

“A tomboy?” Caleb asked. “Anyone could just look at you and know better than that.”

Caleb looked solemn, but this time Libby caught his teasing. To her it was the final blow. “Auntie Vi said she can’t change me into what she wants me to be,” she said, forgetting to write for Peter.

“You don’t like your aunt?” Peter asked.

“She doesn’t like me.” Then Libby remembered to write on the slate. “She doesn’t like the way I act. She wants me to be perfect.”

Peter stopped her. “You don’t have to write any more. I understand.”

Libby stared at him, then pointed to him and nodded, as though saying, “Yes, you would.”

Suddenly Libby felt ashamed.
What am I complaining about?
she thought.
When I lived with Auntie for those four horrible years, she just wanted me to be perfect. By comparison, Peter is in mighty big trouble with Dexter
.

Pointing to herself, she wrote, “I’m being silly.” Giving a crazy smile, she hoped Peter understood.

He did. Or at least he said he did. “Besides, I’m growing used to how you look.”

In that moment Libby remembered her jagged haircut and wrinkled dirty boys’ clothing. Filled with despair, Libby ran her fingers through her hair. “I have to face Auntie Vi looking like this?”

“You don’t look so bad,” Caleb said, as though trying to be
kind. “Your eyes are still the same deep brown color.”

“Oh, Caleb, how can you? How can you be so mean?”

Caleb grinned. “And Peter’s overalls aren’t very short. Only enough to show your scruffy shoes.”

Libby could not think of words awful enough to describe how she felt. Instead she said, “Well, I’m not getting on the train looking like this.”

“But nothing has changed,” Caleb answered calmly.

“Nothing has changed?” Libby spit out the words. “Dexter has been here and gone. Maybe he’ll vanish off the face of the earth. I’m going to leave this terrible disguise behind.”

“You can’t,” Caleb said.

“
You
tell me I can’t,” Libby stormed. “You think you can tell me what to do? You think I’m going to face Auntie Vi looking like this?”

Though Peter had never met Libby’s aunt, Caleb knew and remembered her. Just the expression on Caleb’s face made Libby angry.

“You can’t change,” Caleb said again. “We don’t know where Dexter is. Peter is still in danger.”

Then Libby remembered Peter. A troubled frown in his eyes, he looked from one to another, as though trying to figure out what they were talking about.

“You don’t want me along,” he said.

“No, no, no!” Libby shook her head, trying to assure him that was not true.

“I cause trouble,” Peter answered.

“No!” Again Libby shook her head.

“I will go away,” Peter answered. “No more trouble for you. No more fights between you and Caleb.”

Now Libby felt ashamed. Grabbing the slate, she tried to explain. “Peter, I look awful. My Aunt Vi won’t like how I look.”

But Peter headed for the door. “I will leave. I will go by myself. Then you don’t have to look this way.”

Libby ran after him. “No, no, no!”

His back stiff, his head high and proud, Peter kept walking. He walked right out the door to the barn.

In that moment there was something Libby knew.
I just hurt Peter the way Auntie hurt me
.

For five months Libby had allowed Vi’s words to go around and around in her head. For five months Libby had felt that wound deep inside. She didn’t want that kind of hurt for anyone, let alone Peter. She was learning to love him like a younger brother.

Pa said that all of us who live together on the
Christina
are part of a never-give-up family
, Libby remembered now.
We stick together, even when it’s hard. We believe in one another, even if we aren’t perfect
.

In that instant Libby made up her mind. Racing after Peter, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back to the kitchen and the big drop-leaf table.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Libby signed. Making a fist, she put her right hand over her heart and rubbed a circle as if wanting to wash away all the hurtful things she had said.

The sign was one of the first Peter had taught her. But now he stared down at the floor, refusing to look at Libby.

Libby took the slate. “It’s my pride,” she wrote. “My pride about how I look. But I will go on the train looking like this.”

When he refused to look at the slate, Libby held it under his bowed head. Finally Peter looked up, and Libby saw the
question in his eyes. “Why? I am trouble for you.”

“No!” Libby wrote. “It’s me—my pride about how I look. What if Dexter gets on our train tomorrow? It’s more important that you’re safe than what Auntie Vi thinks about me.”

As though considering her words, Peter sat quietly for a moment. Then he looked her in the eyes and said, “I’m sorry, Libby.”

Libby knew he meant more than how she looked dressed in boys’ clothing.

“But you and Caleb?” Peter asked as though knowing Libby was still upset. “What were you talking about? What’s really wrong, Libby?”

Libby bowed her head, not wanting anyone, not even Peter, to see the hurt in her eyes. Finally she wrote on the slate. “I can still remember every awful word. Auntie Vi said she wanted to give up on me.”

Over Peter’s shoulder, Caleb read the slate. “Your aunt said she wanted to give up on you?” In that moment Caleb turned serious, as though the whole thing was no longer a joking matter. “I’m sorry, Libby. I shouldn’t have made fun of you.”