The Other Child (5 page)

“I’m glad you’re home early anyway, kitten.” Karen put on a wide smile for her daughter’s benefit. “I need a nice big bouquet for the table. Do you think you could wade through that tangled garden out there and cut some roses for me?”

“Sure, Mom.” Leslie’s face cleared immediately. She gave both of them a relieved look and hurried out the kitchen door. Mike wasn’t mad after all. And he said he’d fix her camera if he could. Everything was going to be all right, but she still wouldn’t play with these Cold Spring kids ever again. They were too mean.

Karen waited until the door closed before she spoke. “Taffy’s friends don’t sound very nice. I don’t understand why they were all so upset with Leslie. It certainly wasn’t her fault the boys left.”

Mike shrugged. “I remember when I was the new kid in town.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Karen. “The new kid’s always the outsider for a little while, honey. Just don’t get too worried about it. If Leslie keeps trying, they’ll accept her eventually.”

“But it’s not fair!” Karen’s voice rose with emotion. “Leslie’s always made friends so easily. Why is it so different here?”

“It’s a small town—the kids have been together since they were born. And maybe it’s not as bad as Leslie’s making out. The girls’ll come around soon enough. I’m sure it’ll all work out if we give it some time. A year from now when kids are swarming all over this place, you’ll wish Leslie had fewer friends hanging around.”

Karen sighed. She supposed Mike was right and she should give Leslie time to adjust on her own. These children were bound to like her if they gave her half a chance. She’d encourage Leslie to go right out again tomorrow and try to make friends.

Later on Leslie was in the cupola, snuggled down in the pillows that lined the small, windowed room. She had asked to come up here and read, but all she really wanted to do was rest, safe in her own little room, for the remainder of the afternoon. Her eyes were heavy and she let them close for just a minute.

It was twilight and she was floating down a huge tunnel, suspended in a fog. Spinning around and upside down, she bumped against the walls of the tunnel, but she wasn’t hurt. At the end of the passage, she saw a bright light and tried to navigate toward it. She moved her arms and legs desperately, making swimming motions through the grayness, but instead of going forward toward the cheerful light, she was being pulled back into the deepest, darkest part of the tunnel. Someone was gripping her arm, pulling her deeper and deeper into the frightening blackness.

She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t. Now she was hurtling backward, her hair streaming out in front of her, whipping against her face. She opened her mouth and tried to cry out, but her voice didn’t work. She struggled and kicked, but that made her fly backward into the black part of the tunnel, faster and faster. She came to a halt, and suddenly she saw him, a small dim shape in the darkness. She blinked, but he was still not clear, not in focus.

Leslie.
She sensed he was smiling
. I knew you’d come if I waited long enough.

Now the grasping hands were gone and she settled down to rest against a cold, damp wall. She seemed to be in a small earthen box. For one heart-stopping moment Leslie thought she was in a grave; but as she opened her mouth to scream, she realized the space was lined with jars and shelves. It was a small cellar of some sort, under the ground. The cold chilled her skin.

You’re doing fine, Leslie,
the boy said.
Don’t let them fool you. They’re wicked, just like they were before. I’m your only real friend.

Somehow, Leslie knew he spoke the truth. She tried to find her voice to ask his name, but the boy seemed to hear her without asking.

I’m Christopher,
he said, holding out his hand.
Come closer, Leslie. You don’t have to be afraid.

She held out her hand to him. As his fingers touched hers, she felt warmth and a pleasant tingle, but it was different from shaking hands with anyone else. She couldn’t feel his fingers at all. It was like trying to shake hands with the sun or a warm breeze.

Now we’re friends,
he said, dropping her hand.
Friends help each other, Leslie. I’ll help you if you help me.

He smiled as she nodded and again he answered her unspoken question.
You can help me by finding the key. It’s outside in the yard. If you look carefully, you’ll find it.

She dipped her head in a nod. She would find it. She wanted to help her new friend, Christopher.

He was smiling and speaking her name and his voice was soft. Now she could feel his fingers on her arm.
Leslie,
he said, his voice as soft as a kiss.
Leslie . . . Leslie . . . Leslie?

She blinked and the bright sunlight startled her. The tunnel was gone and the dark chamber with it. She was in the cupola, with the sun streaming in the west windows, but his voice was still calling her name. The fog of sleep lifted from her mind. It was her mother’s voice.

“Leslie? Wake up, kitten. Wash your hands and face, honey. It’s almost time for dinner.”

“Oh!” Leslie sighed, blinking and stretching. “Hi, Mom! I must have fallen asleep up here. I had a funny dream . . . all about a boy named Christopher.”

“Christopher?” Karen smiled. “Is there a Christopher here in town?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Leslie thought for a moment. “I haven’t met anybody named Christopher . . . yet. Maybe I had one of those dreams people are always talking about. A dream that tells the future.”

“A prophetic dream?” Karen’s smile widened. “Well . . . you’ll just have to wait and see. You can tell me all about it later. Right now I have to hurry and get dinner on the table. Mike wants to do some more work on the darkroom tonight.”

“I’ll be right down, Mom.” Leslie stood up, yawning. She hadn’t had a chance to tell her too much about the dream. Actually, her mom was very sensible, as most moms are. Leslie would bet she didn’t believe in voices in the wind, or boys calling out to her in dreams. Leslie was sure she wouldn’t really understand. But the first thing tomorrow, she was going out in the yard to look for that key. If she found it, then she’d know the dream had been real. That boy Christopher would be grateful to her for helping him, and then he’d be her friend. He’d be a much better friend than any of the kids in Cold Spring, and she wouldn’t be alone any longer.

But as Leslie wiped the sleep from her eyes, she began to doubt that there was a dark, earthen room, and a boy waiting there for her. How silly the whole thing was. Of course there wasn’t really a boy named Christopher, waiting somewhere for her to find the key. She didn’t seriously believe that dreams come true exactly the way you dreamed them. There
might
be a key in the yard, though, and it was possible that there was a boy named Christopher in Cold Spring somewhere. Anything was possible. In any event it wouldn’t hurt to look around for an old key. It would give her something to look forward to, something fun to do tomorrow. She’d be so busy looking for the key that she’d forget all about the kickball game, and the dumb kids that lived in Cold Spring.

“Engraved invitations for a birthday party?” Marilyn Comstock passed the pale pink envelope to her husband and frowned, shaking her head. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. They’re strange people, Rob. Can you imagine spending all that money on engraved invitations? Are they trying to prove they’re better than everyone else in Cold Spring?”

“I’m sure that wasn’t their intention at all,” Rob explained patiently. “You just have to bear with them, Marilyn. Remember, folks do things different in the Cities. They haven’t gotten the hang of small-town living yet. You have to give them a chance. I’m sure you’ll like them if you keep an open mind.”

Marilyn shrugged and pressed her lips together. She supposed she should be a little tolerant. After all, the Houstons had bought her house. Rob had deeded the house over to her years ago for tax purposes and every cent of the house payment was deposited automatically to her account. She was earning more money every month they stayed. Still, she had her doubts about the new owners. If the Houstons wanted to be accepted in Cold Spring, they were going about it all the wrong way.

“From what Mike says, it’s going to be a great party,” Rob went on, even though Marilyn was still frowning. “Taffy’s going to love it. They’re bringing in a clown from the Cities and a professional magician. It’s even being catered. I think it’s going to be the biggest birthday party Cold Spring ever had.”

“Well . . . to each his own.” Marilyn sighed, wrinkling her nose slightly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with a small old-fashioned party, though. No one else in Cold Spring puts on such airs. I can’t see why the Houstons have to be so fancy with a simple thing like a child’s birthday party.”

Rob cleared his throat and folded the paper over to look at the sports section. He wasn’t inclined to argue with Marilyn this morning, and he certainly wasn’t going to tell her that Mike had gotten the birthday money from the gambling he’d been doing lately. Rob had raked in a little extra cash, too, thanks to Mike’s tip on the Astros. Marilyn might not realize it, but Mike Houston’s heart was in the right place, using his winnings to throw a big birthday party for Leslie.

“Well, Taffy will probably be excited.” Marilyn put the invitation back in the envelope and placed it in the exact center of the table, where Taffy would be bound to see it. Then she turned in her chair and faced Rob directly.

“Why do you like them so much?” she asked. “You’re always over there, helping them with things.”

Rob shrugged. It would be impossible to explain to Marilyn. He couldn’t tell her that at the oddest moments, sometimes in the middle of the night, he imagined himself doing something completely out of the ordinary—escaping the web of small-town life, drawing all his careful savings out of the bank and sinking every penny into something creative and daring. Marilyn assumed he was perfectly content here in Cold Spring, running his father’s real estate business, and he guessed he was, usually. Still, it cost nothing to dream. Mike Houston was an individual, one of those rare people with talent, personality, and the balls to do something with them.

“I guess he kind of reminds me of my lost youth,” Rob replied finally, folding his paper and placing it neatly in the magazine stand.

“Did you get one?” It was midafternoon and Taffy was down by the river with Mary Ellen and Susie. “Mine came this morning.”

“Sure, I got one.” Mary Ellen flopped down on her stomach to stare at the glistening water. “Every kid in town got one, I bet. I can go, too. My mother says it would be impolite to refuse.”

“My dad said the same thing,” Susie offered, tossing a pebble halfheartedly at the shallow water. “Do you know if Gary and Bud got them?”

“Everybody did,” Taffy answered importantly. “My dad helped them make out the guest list. Every single kid in town is invited. All the boys are coming and Dad says they’re bringing in all kinds of entertainment for us from the Cities.”

“I don’t care!” Susie retorted, tossing her dark blond braids. “They can bring in a whole circus and it won’t change anything. I still think Leslie is stuck-up.”

“I do, too.” Mary Ellen raised her eyebrows. “You can tell by those designer jeans she wears. My mom says Sears is good enough for anybody.”

“She’s got a new outfit every time I see her.” Susie rolled her eyes and sighed. “And all she can ever talk about is her ballet lessons and how she went to the theater every day when she was living in Minneapolis. My mother says those Gucci shoes she wears cost over a hundred dollars!”

“Who cares what they cost!” Taffy shrugged and stood up to go. “Let’s face it. Leslie’s just a weird kid. All she ever wants to do is talk about her important friends back in the Cities or take pictures with that dumb camera of hers. I wouldn’t play with her at all if my dad didn’t make me.”

They had been working on the house for a solid month now and the restoration was coming along at a slow, steady pace. The kitchen was finished, dishwasher and modern conveniences hidden by clever rustic covers. The old pump was still in the corner and a pail hung on the handle, just as it had a hundred years ago. The modern sink was concealed by sliding panels, which doubled as counter space. When it was completed, it was an authentic old-fashioned kitchen, right down to the cast-iron “spiders” hanging on the wall.

“Well, it’s a perfect day for it.” Karen flipped two eggs on a plate and handed them to Leslie. The stove looked old-fashioned, but it was a modern gas range. Karen loved cooking on it. “We ordered good weather for your birthday, kitten, and it looks like we got it.”

Mike grinned. This year the third of July was clear and sunny, perfect for an outdoor party. “And just wait until you open our present.” He reached over to ruffle Leslie’s straight blond hair. “Remember now, honey—you can’t go near the cupola until after the party. That’s where we hid your present.”

“This is going to be the best birthday party ever.” Karen dropped a quick kiss on Leslie’s head as she took her place at the kitchen table. “You just wait and see. Everything’s going to be absolutely perfect!”

Leslie smiled, but the smile never quite reached her eyes. She was a little worried about her elaborately planned birthday party. She’d heard about the birthday parties they usually had here; lemonade and homemade cake in the backyard. Her birthday party was going to be much bigger and fancier than that. Would the other kids think she was trying to show off?

“Hey—nothing but smiles on your birthday,” Mike chided her gently. “Come on, Leslie. Eat your breakfast and then you can help us get ready. We’ve got a lot of work to do before the party people get here.”

By midmorning everything was ready. The trees in the yard were hung with banners and bunting in bright colors; balloons on strings bobbed above the spikes on the wrought-iron fence; and a huge soda-pop fountain was in readiness for the first arrivals. When it was switched on, the strawberry soda would bubble up in a spray to be caught in the guests’ cups. The ice cream cake waited in the freezer for the right moment, and gay party favors nestled in striped hats at the gate.

The caterers were in the kitchen, preparing miniature hamburgers and tiny hot dogs on decorative platters. Leslie rushed past them and ran around the corner of the house to the rose garden. She wanted to pick one perfect rose for her mom. It would be a thoughtful way to say thank you for all the work she had done to get this party ready.

She pushed her way carefully through the tangled vines. There was one red rose just opening on a tall bush in the middle of the garden.

She snipped it off with the gardening shears and smiled happily. It was the prettiest rose she’d ever seen. The petals were still covered with morning dew and its fragrance made her feel dizzy with pleasure. She looked up and saw the cupola directly above her and her heart beat faster. This was the exact spot she’d seen the shadow. It was quiet and bright, the sunniest spot in the whole garden. Perhaps the perfect rose was a clue, a sort of signpost leading her to something.

The key!
Leslie drew her breath in sharply as she thought of it. She had looked for a week now with no success. Could it be here?

Leslie pulled aside the tangled vines, carefully avoiding the sharp thorns. She gasped as she saw a flash of light near the stem of the rosebush.

A gum wrapper. It was only an old gum wrapper. Leslie picked it up and stuffed it into her pocket. She was so bitterly disappointed that tears came to her eyes. She dug the toe of her Nikes into the dirt and kicked hard. Then she stopped, not quite believing what she had accidentally uncovered.

It was still partially buried and Leslie pushed aside the dry leaves and raked mulch with her fingers. A moment later she had the key in her hand—the key from her dream!

“I found it!” Leslie’s voice was almost a sob, she was so happy. “There really was a key and I found it!”

Carefully she polished the key with her handkerchief. As she gazed down at it, her mind whirled in excited circles. It was her birthday present . . . from Christopher. Did that mean her dream was coming true? Would she meet him, now that she’d found the key? It could happen today. She could meet Christopher right here, at her own birthday party!

Her excitement grew and Leslie laughed right out loud. Anything was possible. She’d found the key, hadn’t she? She had promised to look and she’d found it, right where he’d said.

“Mom?” Leslie rushed through the doorway, banging the screen behind her. “Look what I found! It’s an old key! Can you help me find the lock it fits?”

Karen took the key from Leslie’s hand and looked at it. “I think it belongs to a padlock,” she said, examining it closely. “I don’t believe we have anything padlocked, honey. Perhaps someone walking in the yard lost it.”

“Maybe it’s a padlock we haven’t found yet.” Leslie’s voice was high and eager. “That could be it, couldn’t it, Mom?”

“Well . . . it could be, I suppose.” Karen smiled a little. Leslie certainly was ecstatic over finding an old key. She couldn’t imagine why it was so important to her.

“I can keep it, can’t I, Mom? Even if it doesn’t fit anything, I need to keep it. Please?”

“Goodness, kitten! Of course you can keep it. I don’t need an old key for anything and neither does Mike. It’s all yours, honey.”

“Thank you, Mom!” Leslie flung her arms around Karen’s neck and hugged hard. “I’m going to find a string and wear it around my neck. Then I’m going to check every lock around here and see if it fits something.”

“First you’re going to bathe and get dressed.” Karen was firm. “Go get a piece of string from that drawer next to the sink and I’ll help you tie it around your neck if you must. But no looking for any old locks until after the birthday party.”

Leslie looked pained, but she didn’t argue. At least her mom had said she could keep the key. That was something. And tomorrow she’d have all day to look for the lock. There was a smile on her face as she ran up the stairs to get ready for her party.

When she was bathed and ready, Leslie slipped her birthday dress over her head. It was a special present from her mother and it made her happy just to look at the white dainty voile with hand-embroidered pink roses. There was an underskirt of pink, a deeper rose velvet ribbon for her hair, and a pair of matching pink satin shoes.

The shoes were as soft as ballet slippers and Leslie smiled as she put them on. She wished she could take ballet lessons again, but there were no classes here. The kids in Cold Spring didn’t seem interested in ballet at all.

Leslie did a pirouette around the room, humming a few bars from
Swan Lake.
She felt wonderful in her new dress and shoes. Perhaps this was going to be a good party after all.

“Oh, kitten! You look lovely!” Karen stepped into her daughter’s room. Leslie was growing more beautiful every year.

“I love this dress, Mom!” Leslie lifted her arms gracefully and grinned at her mother. “And these shoes! I just wish I could take ballet again.”

“We’ll talk about that later, darling.” Karen frowned and a tiny worry line appeared on her forehead. She really wished that Leslie could continue with her dance lessons, but the round trip to the Cities five days a week would be impossible.

“Sit down now, honey, and let me fix your hair,” Karen urged. “Only half an hour and your first guests will arrive.”

At last her mother was finished and Leslie stood up, twirling in front of the mirror so her dainty white skirt swirled out in a bell. Maybe her mother was right and this was going to be the best birthday party ever. The Cold Spring kids might be pleased that Mike was spending all this money so everyone could have a good time. She pushed aside her nagging doubts and fixed a smile on her face. Of course all the kids would come, and they’d have a wonderful time. Then all the children in Cold Spring would change their minds about her and really like her, all because of this wonderful birthday party.

“Wow! He’s good, isn’t he?” Mary Ellen stood in the front row, between Taffy and Susie. “I never saw a real live magician before!”

“He’s got stuff up his sleeves,” Bud hissed in Mary Ellen’s ear. “Watch him. You can tell he’s a fake.”

“I’ve seen better on TV,” Gary joined in. “And he’s doing tricks I must have seen a hundred times.”

“Shut up, both of you!” Taffy turned around and glared at the two boys. “I’m trying to enjoy the show!”

“Ahhhhhh!” There was a hushed cry from the audience as the magician drew a rabbit out of his tall silk hat. Scarves changed to fluttering doves and flowers sprouted from the tips of his fingers. Leslie glanced around happily. The kids seemed to be enjoying the magic show. The clown act and the magician had been big hits with almost everyone here. So far it was a great birthday party.

“Time for another game!” Karen stepped up on the raised platform in the center of the lawn. “We’re going to play musical chairs now. Does everyone know how to play?”

“Musical chairs?” Bud’s voice was high and scornful. “That’s a babies’ game!”

“I haven’t played that since the second grade.” Gary shook his head. “Well . . . come on, Bud. Maybe we can liven it up a little.”