The Forgotten Door (10 page)

Angus burst out, “I never said no such a thing! We were at Blue Lake! We —”

“Quiet, both of you,” Miss Josie ordered. “Mr. Bush, did you check a second time at Blue Lake and get the names of those witnesses?”

“I did, ma'am. Mr. Macklin and his family were visiting a Mr. and Mrs. Hinkley all Sunday afternoon. The Hinkleys swear to it.”

“Mr. Bush,” said Miss Josie, “did you know that Joe Hinkley and Angus Macklin were half brothers?”

Anderson Bush stiffened. “No, ma'am.”

“It takes time to learn all these local relationships, and you've been here only five years. Proceed with your story.”

“Well, ma'am, as I was saying, I checked out Mr. Bean's boy, Brooks. That left only Mr. Bean's visitor, this boy he calls Jon O'Connor. When I questioned him about Jon O'Connor, Mr. Bean was very evasive. He told me that Jon O'Connor was the orphaned son of Captain James O'Connor of the Marines, who was killed recently in North Africa. He said further that the Marines had brought Jon O'Connor to his house Saturday evening, and that the boy could have had nothing to do with the theft. Yet Tuesday evening Mr. Pitts saw this Jon O'Connor, and positively identified him as the strange boy he had caught in his field. Later Mrs. Pitts identified him as the same boy — the Beans had changed his clothes and cut his hair to make him look more normal —”

“But he's the same sneaky boy!” Emma Pitts exclaimed. “I'd know 'im anywhere. He ain't natural!”

“Quiet, Emma!” Miss Josie snapped. “Be careful what you say in here. Mr. Bush, this is all very interesting about Jon O'Connor, but at the moment we are concerned only with the theft. I understand that the stolen articles were recovered that very evening when you took Mr. Bean over to the Macklins'. Tell us about that.”

“Yes, ma'am.” The deputy pointed to a table in the corner. On it were two fishing rods, a tackle box, and a rifle. “Those are the articles, ma'am. When we got to the Macklins', Mr. Bean insisted he'd seen the Macklin boys crossing their pasture, carrying what appeared to be the stolen things. He also insisted that Tip and Lenny were going to hide the things over in Johnson's woods, so they wouldn't be found on their own place.” The deputy paused.

“Well?” said Miss Josie.

“It was a pretty dark night,” said Anderson Bush. “I've got good vision, but I didn't see Tip and Lenny crossing the pasture. However, Mr. Bean insisted that we immediately search the edge of the woods. We started across the pasture, and met Tip and Lenny returning. That struck me as rather odd, and I didn't get an explanation out of them till later. Anyway, I searched the edge of the woods very carefully, and found nothing.”

The deputy stopped again, and glanced at Little Jon.

“Go on,” said Miss Josie. “Who found the things?”

“Mr. Bean and that boy yonder did. They found them in less than five minutes. The articles were hidden far back under a cedar clump where they couldn't have been seen even in daylight. It would have been almost impossible to find them at night unless you knew exactly where they were.”

“Were there fingerprints on them, Mr. Bush?”

“Yes, ma'am. The fingerprints belonged to Tip and Lenny. When I questioned the Macklins about it afterward, they finally said their boys had found the stolen articles during the afternoon when they were playing in the woods. They'd taken them to the barn. Mr. Macklin says when he learned about it, he made the boys return the things to the cedars, and hide them exactly as they'd found them. He says he was afraid they might be accused of the theft if they reported it.”

Miss Josie asked, “Did you find any of Jon O'Connor's fingerprints on the stolen articles?”

“No, ma'am. But they could easily have been rubbed off by so much handling from other people.”

“Did you find Jon O'Connor's fingerprints in the Holliday house?”

“No, ma'am. I did find Tip's and Lenny's prints in there — but Mr. Pitts tells me the boys had been in the house a number of times. The doctor had them do odd jobs about the place.”

“I see. Now, what have you learned about Jon O'Connor?”

Anderson Bush smiled. “There is no such person, Miss Josie. I checked with the Marines. It is true that there was a Captain O'Connor, that he was Mr. Bean's friend, and that he was killed recently. But he had no children.”

“Very well,” said Miss Josie. “That states things clearly. Thomas, what have you to say?”

Thomas Bean swallowed. “It's true that I lied to Mr. Bush. But I had good reasons. Miss Josie, before I try to explain, I wish you'd read those notes I gave you. They'll prepare you —”

Little Jon clutched his arm. “Please — not yet. Miss Josie,” he spoke earnestly, “before you read that, will you let me say something first?”

She nodded. “Yes, Jon. We want to hear your side of it.”

Little Jon took a long breath. This was not going to be easy. Because of Anderson Bush, he was forced to say and do certain things he abhorred. But, if only for Thomas' sake, he had to go through with it.

“Miss Josie,” he began, “Mr. Bean has been trying to protect me ever since he found me Saturday evening over a week ago. I cannot remember anything that happened before that day. I had been in some kind of accident, for I was badly bruised. And I was frightened, because I didn't know what had happened or where I was — except that I was somewhere on a strange mountain. I followed a doe and her fawn down to Mr. Pitts's field, trying to find someone to help me. Mr. Pitts tried to kill the doe, but I spoiled his aim, and —”

“That's a lie!” Gilby cried. “I never shot at no doe!”

“Gilby,” Miss Josie said icily, “hold your tongue, or it will give me great pleasure to fine you. Jon, please continue.”

“Mr. Pitts caught me, but after Mrs. Pitts came, I broke away and ran. I wandered all day through the mountains until I came out on the road where Mr. Bean found me.”

“Jon,” said Miss Josie, “during your wanderings that day, did you find the Holliday house and enter it?”

“No, ma'am. I haven't yet seen the place. Besides, I was looking for someone to help me.” Little Jon smiled. “I would hardly have expected to find any help in two fishing rods, a heavy tackle box, and a rifle. I knew nothing about such things at the time, and I couldn't have carried them if I'd wanted to. I needed a stick to walk.”

He paused to plan his next move. Over in the corner he saw Mr. McFee, the long-nosed probation officer, whistle softly and shake his head. “I've heard some wild ones in my day,” McFee said under his breath to Mrs. Groome, “but this kid's tale has 'em all beat.”

“Mr. McFee,” Miss Josie said coldly, “keep your opinions to yourself. Jon, you've just told me you knew nothing of fishing rods and rifles. For a boy of today, I find that a very strange statement.”

“I'm sure you do, Miss Josie. But it's true. You see —”

“Jon,” she asked suddenly, “how old are you?”

“I don't know, ma'am.”

She studied him a moment, puzzled, then said, “Well, continue your story.”

“That's about all, Miss Josie, except for finding the stolen things. After being taken to Mr. Macklin's house that night, I knew exactly where they were.”

Miss Josie raised her eyebrows. “You did?”

“Yes, ma'am. Here is how I knew. Will you think of a number, Miss Josie? I believe it will be better if you think of a large one.”

“Very well. I've thought of one. What about it?”

“The number you are thinking of is three million, seven hundred and forty thousand, nine hundred and seventy-six.”

Miss Josie opened her mouth, closed it, then sat perfectly motionless while she looked at him. The room had become deathly still.

Little Jon said, “I'm not sure my pronunciation is right. I haven't known English very long, and Mrs. Bean has had so much trouble with people interrupting her lately that she hasn't had time to teach me certain things. Is the number I gave correct?”

She nodded, her lips compressed.

“Do you want to try another number, Miss Josie — or something else?”

“It isn't necessary,” she answered, almost in a whisper. “It's obvious, Jon, that you can read my thoughts.”

“Yes, Miss Josie. It is very unpleasant to have to tell you this, but the thoughts of everyone in this room are so — so loud right now that they might just as well be shouting. So how can I help but know what the Macklins have done?”

“I don't believe it!” Anderson Bush grated. “This smooth-talking kid is full of more lies than any kid I ever—”

“Please, Mr. Bush,” Little Jon said quickly, before Miss Josie could speak, “I'd rather not have to say any more. But if you won't take numbers for proof, I'll have to convince you another way. Years ago you were in the army. You were ordered to drive a truck somewhere. On the way you had a bad accident. You —” Little Jon swallowed. “Must I tell what you did, and what happened to you afterward?”

The deputy's jaws were knotted; his face had paled. “No!” he said hoarsely. “I've heard enough.” He glared at Angus Macklin. “What about it, Macklin? Have you been stringing me along all this time?”

“No — no — honest I ain't!” Angus had lost his smile. His hands were shaking. “My boys wouldn't —”

The deputy snapped, “You crazy fool, this kid really is a mind reader! Don't you realize what that means? You can't keep a secret from him.
Nobody
can!”

Emma Pitts suddenly cried, “I
told
you that kid's unnatural! Let me out of here — I don't want nothin' to do with no mind reader!” She and Gilby were on their feet, backing away. There was fear in their faces.

The room was in an uproar. From somewhere in a drawer Miss Josie produced a gavel. She pounded it vigorously on the desk.

“Sit down!” she ordered. “Quiet, all of you!”

When the room was restored to order, she said, “Angus Macklin, I've known you all my life and I happen to remember things about you I'll not mention here. Let's have the truth. Did Tip and Lenny break into the Holliday place and take those things?”

Angus swallowed and nodded. “Y-yes, ma'am.”

“Where did they hide them?”

“In the barn at first. Then — then I got to worrying about it, and had 'em take the things over in the cedars.”

“I see. You thought all the blame would fall on this strange boy everyone was talking about. Angus, this is a very serious matter. The value of those stolen articles is over five hundred dollars. I want you and Tip and Lenny to go home and think about how serious it is. Tomorrow I have a full day, but Wednesday I want you all back here at ten o'clock, and I'll decide what to do about you. I'm afraid Tip and Lenny are badly in need of corrective measures. You, Angus, could be prosecuted.”

She turned and glanced at Mrs. Groome and Mr. McFee. “Does what I'm doing meet with your approval?”

Mr. McFee nodded; Mrs. Groome started to speak, then nodded also.

Miss Josie said, “All right, Angus. You and the boys may go. Gilby, you and Emma may go. But let me warn all of you not to say one word of what you've heard in this room this morning.”

When they were gone, it was Mrs. Groome who spoke first.

“Miss Josie,” she began disapprovingly, “I don't know what to make of this boy. He may be a mind reader, but I'm not at all convinced he isn't a delinquency case himself. He sounds entirely too clever to be up to any good. Furthermore, if he's really lost his memory and doesn't know where his home is, he's a Welfare case and I should be the one to handle him.”

She looked coldly at Thomas. “Mr. Bean, I think you've taken a lot on yourself. Why didn't you come to me in the first place when you found this boy?”

Thomas said, “Mrs. Groome, I did what I thought was best for Jon. If Miss Josie will read what I've written for her, I'm sure she will agree with me.”

Suddenly Little Jon found Miss Josie smiling at him.

He smiled back, loving her. “I think you'll find it easier to understand now, Miss Josie,” he said.

He Is Threatened

M
ISS
J
OSIE
took a pair of glasses from her bag, wiped them and put them on, and unfolded the paper. It was filled with Thomas' small, neat handwriting, the facts carefully arranged as if he were making an official report. As she read, her mouth opened slightly and she bit down on her lower lip. Other than that, she gave no indication of the shock and astonishment that Little Jon knew she felt.

Thomas had listed all that the Beans knew about him — the way he had learned English, his ability to speak to animals, his strange clothing, his total ignorance of some things, and his familiarity with others. It was a long list, and Thomas had even given the value of the gems in Little Jon's knife and clip. Nothing had been omitted but the cave.

Thomas had headed the paper:

Secret
—
for Judge Josephine Cunningham
.

At the bottom he had added:

After exhausting all possibilities, we are convinced that Jon is an accidental visitor from another planet. He is sure of this himself. A few scraps of returning memory give proof of it, and indicate how he arrived and how he may be returned. We are working on that now. Our main problem is to avoid further publicity and give him a chance to get his memory back. Our one fear is that some government agency may learn of his abilities and take him away and hold him for study. We feel this would be a tragedy. Please help us all you can
.

Thomas Jamieson Bean
.

Miss Josie read the paper a second time. Anderson Bush crossed and recrossed his legs, and Mr. McFee began tapping his fingers impatiently on the table beside him. Mrs. Groome seemed to be swelling momentarily. Little Jon knew she was burning with resentment and curiosity.