McKenzie

by Shari Barr

  The shop sat far off the Strip, away from the hustle and bustle. The girls hurried up the lane away from the traffic. A split-rail fence lined one side of the driveway. Orange and yellow marigolds grew at the bottom of each post. McKenzie was surprised that no shoppers had ventured this way.

  As they came to the end of the lane, she saw why. The Treasure Trove was the only business located at the end of the narrow drive.

  “Uh-oh, I think they’re closed,” Sydney said as they approached the parking lot. No cars were in the parking lot, and all was dark inside the shop. No shoppers lined the sidewalks back here. The girls continued up the lane to the front porch of the rustic building. An old wooden bench sat near the front door. A painted sign hanging in the window read, SORRY WE MISSED YOU. COME BACK AGAIN.

  “They closed at 7:00,” McKenzie said, peering at the notice on the door. “I was hoping to look inside and talk to the owner.”

  “We’ll have to come back,” Sydney suggested as she turned and stepped off the porch.

  An automatic streetlight flickered on near the front of the building. McKenzie walked down the wooden sidewalk to the edge of the shop. A narrow pathway ran along the side of the building. A sign invited customers to browse through wooden statues located behind the shop.

  “Let’s go look,” McKenzie said, scurrying down the path. “Maybe there are signs on some of the artwork with the artist’s name.”

  “Wait for me!” Sydney called, running after her friend.

  The sun had dropped over the horizon as the girls wandered to the back side of the shop. Shadows fell across the rows and rows of wooden statues. Some of the sculptures are taller than me, McKenzie thought. She stood beside a wooden bear and looked into his dark eyes. She walked among life-size wooden eagles, wolves, and deer. One side of the yard had all sizes of wooden wishing wells.

  “Can you believe these woodcarvings?” McKenzie called to Sydney, who was busy looking at trolls and gnomes in the next row.

  “I wonder how long it takes to carve one of these,” Sydney said with awe as she studied a troll sitting on top of a huge wooden toadstool.

  Dusk deepened as McKenzie moved away from Sydney and peered at the statues. Though only a block away, the car horns honking on the Strip seemed far away from the isolated shop. The shadows deepened. The statues looked grotesque and forlorn. The claws and fangs on an angry wolf sent a shiver up her neck.

  Something rustled in the bushes on the edge of the yard. Glancing around her, she shivered despite the warm evening. Nothing was there. Hopefully it’s just a rabbit, McKenzie thought nervously. She kept her eyes on the shrubs, but she saw no movement.

  Suddenly she felt like they shouldn’t be here when the shop wasn’t open. I feel like we’re trespassing. She told herself to finish looking through one more row of woodcrafts. Then we’ll leave, she thought. She walked through a group of wooden angels of all sizes. Nothing looked similar to the carvings on Shara’s necklace.

  Sighing, McKenzie turned to look for Sydney. She spotted her in the shadows next to the shop. McKenzie hurried through the maze of statues toward her friend.

  A corner of a statue caught her toe. As she stumbled, a figure caught her eye in the fading twilight. A statue of a fairy stood about two feet high. Her long wavy hair flowed about her face. It was almost too dark to see the tiny carvings, but as McKenzie bent closer she gasped.

  She blinked and shook her head to see if she was reading the letters correctly. Yes, the initials SS were carved into the base of the statue!

  Capsized!

  “Sydney!” McKenzie cried. “Come here! You’ve got to see this.”

  Excitement raced through McKenzie’s veins. I can’t believe the initials are the same as on Shara’s necklace! Could this be her Uncle Reggie’s artwork?

  “What is it?” Sydney asked breathlessly as she raced to McKenzie.

  “Look!” McKenzie pointed at the initials barely visible in the fading light.

  Sydney’s eyes grew wide as she read the lettering. She lifted her gaze to the fairy’s face and cocked her head to one side in surprise. “Look at the face on the statue. Doesn’t she kind of look like Shara?”

  McKenzie stared at the fairy. She hadn’t noticed it until now, but it did look like Shara. The fairy had the same small features and lively eyes. “Oh Sydney, I think we’ve found our first clue. It sure looks like Reggie Ford’s work.”

  “Too bad the shop isn’t open,” Sydney said. “We could ask the employees about the artist.”

  The honking of a car horn and the screech of tires floated up the lane from the Strip. For a minute McKenzie had forgotten how close they were to the busy downtown street. The backyard of the little woodworker’s shop seemed so isolated.

  The uneasiness she had felt earlier returned. She glanced down the lane toward the busy intersection. Cars streaked through on the green lights, screeching to a halt at the next block. The neon lights of the storefronts flashed off and on, enticing the customers to come inside.

  “It’s already 8:45,” McKenzie said anxiously, pushing the light button on the side of her watch. “Miss Val is probably waiting on us.”

  The towering woodcarvings looked like an enemy army in the deepening shadows. The life-size wild animals seemed to come alive, ready to pounce.

  I’ve had enough of this, McKenzie thought. She whirled and fled through the array of woodcarvings, stopping when she reached the front of the building. A cloud of frenzied moths fluttered about the streetlight high above her. She turned to make sure Sydney was following.

  Side by side, the girls hurried toward the Strip, their tennis shoes slapping the sidewalk as they jogged. They stopped and caught their breath when they arrived at the street corner. The string of headlights in the bumper-to-bumper traffic looked like a ribbon of white Christmas lights stretching up the street. Blaring rock music sounded from open car windows. McKenzie felt the vibrations coming from the subwoofers.

  “Where are all the people coming from?” Sydney asked in amazement. “The traffic wasn’t this bad when we got here.”

  “The shows are all getting out,” McKenzie explained. “Branson has tons of entertainers who have their own theaters. There are gobs of musical groups, magicians, dancers, light and water shows, and of course the Dixie Showcase. Plus, White Water—the water park—is closing for the night too. I’ve got to go there before I go home. I hear they have the wildest water slides ever.”

  “I’ve never been to a small town with so much to see and do,” Sydney said. “I could stay here a month and not see everything.”

  The girls hurried up the sidewalk to the flea market. Branson was a town that catered to families, so kids of all ages roamed the streets with their parents. The crowds of shoppers had thinned, though, since most shops would close within minutes.

  Once inside the flea market, McKenzie saw Miss Val looking at some antique dishes. “Sorry we’re late. We were busy and didn’t realize how late it was.”

  “I don’t see any packages,” Miss Val said with a smile, not seeming to mind that they were late. “You must not have found anything you can’t live without.”

  “Actually, we didn’t even look for souvenirs,” McKenzie blurted out. “We may have found a clue to finding Shara’s uncle.”

  On the way to the car, McKenzie told Miss Val about their discovery. Sydney interrupted occasionally to add a few details.

  “Well, it sounds like you may have found some of Mr. Ford’s work,” Miss Val said. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean he lives here. He could ship his artwork in from another state.”

  McKenzie frowned. I didn’t think of that, she thought. Shara did say that her family couldn’t find his phone number in the Branson directory. Maybe he doesn’t live here after all.

  “I don’t mean to discourage you,” Miss Val continued as they reached the outskirts of town. “But Branson is known for its crafters. If someone was going to sell their artwork, this is the town to sell it in.”

/>   McKenzie groaned inwardly. The girls said little the rest of the way home. McKenzie wanted to have faith that they would find Reggie Ford. But she also knew how disappointed Shara would be if they couldn’t find him. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and prayed. Dear God, please help us find Reggie Ford. It would mean so much to Shara. If he’s in Branson, please let us find him.

  Later when the girls were alone in their room, McKenzie threw herself on her bed. “I know Miss Val thinks Mr. Ford may not be in Branson, but I’m not giving up until I know for sure. I’m going to do all I can to find him, no matter where he is.”

  After breakfast the next morning, the girls anxiously watched the clock. According to the sign on the Treasure Trove door, the shop opened for business at 9:00.

  McKenzie swallowed the last of her orange juice and carried her glass to the sink. After grabbing the phone book, she said, “It’s time. I’m calling.”

  After a few moments of silence, she spoke into the receiver. She told the clerk on the line that she was looking for the name of the artist who carved the fairy statues. Moments later she hung up the phone dejectedly and turned to Sydney. “The woman who answered doesn’t know any of the crafters. She said to call back when the manager is there. And she doesn’t know when that will be.”

  “Bummer,” Sydney said with a frown. She bent over and stroked Mr. Pibb’s head as he rubbed against her leg. “Now what?”

  With the phone book still in her hand, McKenzie walked to the front door. “Maybe we can visit all the woodworking shops in town and look for Mr. Ford’s work.”

  The girls stepped outside and settled on the top step of the large porch. With the phone book between them, they flipped it open.

  “Look at them all,” Sydney groaned as she looked at the list of woodworkers. “There are dozens of them. There’s no way we can visit them all.”

  McKenzie frowned as she shut the phone book. She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. “I guess we can visit as many as we can. If we find more of those carvings, surely someone will know who the crafter is. And we can always call the Treasure Trove back or stop in.”

  A figure coming up the lane caught McKenzie’s eye. Miss Val waved to the girls as she returned from her morning walk.

  “It’s going to be a scorcher today,” Miss Val said as she climbed the porch to sit in the shade. “I have errands to run later this morning, so why don’t I drop you girls off at Pebble Beach while I take care of business? I can pack you a picnic lunch, and you can shower at the beach house before I pick you up. McKenzie, since you have the day off, you can check out Silver Dollar City if you want. Or, since it won’t be much fun on the rides by yourself, you could help Sydney and me in the shop. How does that sound?”

  McKenzie and Sydney eagerly agreed. Before Miss Val went inside the house, she suggested the girls explore the land behind her house. “There’s a trail leading to an old lookout tower that’s a great spot to take pictures,” she said. “Don’t stay too long, though. I want to leave in about an hour.”

  The girls jumped to their feet. They grabbed their cameras from their room and bounded down the back steps to the timber that stretched behind Miss Val’s house. McKenzie sniffed the damp, earthy smell of decaying branches and leaves.

  They scampered down the trail that twisted through a stand of oaks, maples, and pines. McKenzie heard skittering sounds in the bushes and undergrowth. Probably rabbits and squirrels, she thought. They soon arrived at a clearing with a rustic wooden tower reaching high into the sky.

  Sydney bounded up the first few steps then looked down at McKenzie, her dark eyes flashing. “You coming?” she asked.

  McKenzie raced up the stairs after her friend, stopping to peer over the edge about three-fourths of the way up. Her knees trembled as she looked down. We’re already higher than some of the trees, she thought.

  “Hurry up,” Sydney cried from the top platform of the tower. “You’ve got to see this.”

  McKenzie climbed the rest of the stairs slowly. She wasn’t nearly as athletic as Sydney, so she arrived breathless at the top. She leaned her elbows on the railing as she stood next to Sydney.

  “I wonder how high we are.” McKenzie glanced across the Ozark hills that seemed to go on for miles and miles. Everywhere she looked, she saw hills and lush green trees. A creek flowed through the wooded hills behind Miss Val’s house looking like a twisting blue ribbon. She saw a couple of small waterfalls spilling over a rocky cliff. A few housetops were scattered among the trees, and she saw glimpses of roads leading to them. She looked down and felt dizzy.

  Sydney stood at the railing snapping pictures all around. She lowered her camera and turned to McKenzie. “I’ll have some great shots to put in my scrapbook when I get home.”

  McKenzie lifted her camera and zoomed in to snap a picture of the falls. “Somebody must live down there. I see the top of a house and a road leading to it.”

  “What a cool place to build a house.” Sydney leaned fearlessly on the railing and peered down. “I wonder who lives there.”

  “We could ask Miss Val, but she just moved here a few months ago,” McKenzie said. Then she glanced at her watch. “We’ve been gone awhile. We’d better head back and get ready to go swimming.”

  By the time they arrived back at the house, they only had a few minutes to change into their swimsuits and grab a change of clothes. Soon Miss Val dropped them off at Pebble Beach, promising to return at 2:00.

  McKenzie slung her beach bag over her arm and grabbed the cooler containing their picnic lunch. Sydney grabbed her bag and tucked a rubber raft under each arm. A set of concrete steps led to the lake.

  The beach was already crowded with swimmers and sunbathers. Screaming kids and laughter filled the air. Music blared out of someone’s boom box. She sniffed the smell of coconut-scented sunscreen as she passed a group of giggling high school girls on beach blankets.

  Finally she found a clear spot near one end of the beach. After spreading out her beach towel, she pulled her sunscreen from her bag.

  “Hey, can you put this raft on the other side of you?” Sydney asked as she plopped her bag to the ground.

  “Sure.” The sunscreen slipped from McKenzie’s hand as she took the raft and laid it beside her. Stepping back, her foot landed on the tube of sunscreen. The top popped off beneath her foot and shot a stream of white goo onto the back of the boy next to her.

  He yelped and jumped to his feet. McKenzie’s face grew warm as she covered her mouth with her hands. The boy turned to her with an angry look. But when he saw her, his face broke out into a wide grin.

  “It’s you!” His blue eyes flashed at her.

  “Nat?” McKenzie said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.”

  “She did it on purpose,” Sydney said with a chuckle, teasing her friend.

  “I’m not surprised,” Nat said with a smile. He turned to Sydney and introduced himself. “I’m Nat McCoy. I work with McKenzie at the Showcase.”

  I could crawl in a hole and die, McKenzie thought as she wiped goo from between her toes. Nat turned to McKenzie.

  “I’m getting in the water, but you’d better watch out. I’ll get even.” He grinned at her again and sprinted across the beach.

  McKenzie groaned as she slumped onto her towel. “I can’t believe I did that.”

  Sydney settled down onto her towel, the beads in her cornrows clicking as she tossed her head. “You didn’t tell me about Nat. Do you like him? I think he likes you.”

  McKenzie didn’t answer. She glanced at all the suntanned girls around her. Girls with perfect tans. Then she stared at her uneven farmer’s tan. Her feet and upper thighs looked like they had been painted a sickly white color. At least my knees are tanned, she thought. She squirted sunscreen unevenly across her legs, trying to camouflage her pasty legs.

  “Hey, answer me.” Sydney playfully thumped her on the arm. “Do you like Nat?”

  McKenzie groaned. She had hoped
her friend would forget the question she’d asked.

  “He’s nice, but I don’t really even know him,” she said, rubbing lotion onto her face and arms.

  “Ah, come on. You can tell me,” Sydney pleaded, sitting cross-legged on her flowery beach towel. “You do like him, don’t you?”

  McKenzie rolled her eyes at her friend, wishing this conversation would end. “I’m going swimming before this gets ugly.”

  She kicked her flip-flops off the towel and jumped to her feet. She grabbed her lime green raft and hopped on tiptoe across the hot sand.

  “Oooch! Ouch!” she cried as her feet reached the rough gravel near the water’s edge. She raced into the cool, clear water and jumped on top of her raft.

  Sydney lunged into the lake beside her, sending up a spray of water. “Let’s go out deeper.” She lay on her stomach, paddling furiously with her arms.

  McKenzie followed, eager to get away from the throng of swimmers. When they were in deeper water, the crowds lessened. She glanced around and saw Nat on the far side of the swimming area with some other boys.

  Does he really like me? McKenzie couldn’t help wondering as she paddled idly. He does seem nice.

  “Hey, are you listening?” Sydney splashed McKenzie’s face.

  McKenzie coughed as she wiped the water from her eyes. “Oh, sorry. I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “I noticed,” Sydney said with pretend disgust. “I was just saying that maybe we could check out the woodcarving shops at Silver Dollar City later today.”

  McKenzie nodded. “We might as well look there too. Mr. Ford could have his crafts in Silver Dollar City as well as the shops around Branson.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, McKenzie saw a shadow beneath her raft. She peered into the water. She glanced from side to side but saw no one. Suddenly her raft lifted into the air, and she felt herself tipping. She clung to the edge but lost her grip.

  A split second later, she screamed and disappeared beneath the surface of the water!