“Exactly,” said her mother. “He didn’t.”
“Your great-grandmother must have known,” Aunt Clare said. “And before the twins were very big, Sadie sold her land and moved away. If I had to bet, I’d say Effie the First laid down the law to Gus: Either they go, or I do. As far as I know, they never came back, and Gus never saw the children again.”
“That’s terrible,” said Moriah.
Aunt Clare shrugged. “It is, but it was a long time ago and attitudes were different. My grandmother wanted to keep her family together and protect her son from the scandal. Once the evidence was out of the way, they tried to pretend nothing had ever happened.”
“There’s something else, too,” said Effie’s mom. “Sadie was mixed-race. You will have noticed there aren’t a lot of African-Americans in this neck of the woods even now. There is still a lot of prejudice, and there was more back then. It can’t have been comfortable for her around here.”
“It wasn’t right for Gus Zook to lie to his wife, to Effie the First,” Effie said.
“Even great men aren’t perfect,” said Uncle Ted.
E.J.’s eyes were as big as quarters. “This is better than cartoons.”
Moriah said, “It’s grown-up stuff. You shouldn’t be listening.”
“Hold your breath, E.J., and you’ll forget,” said Effie.
“Why would I want to do that?” E.J. asked.
“Hang on a sec,” said Moriah, and Effie could almost see her calculating. “My grandmother and her brother are the twins you’re talking about. They’re Sadie’s children, and Mr. Odbody’s grandmother is the same Sadie, so that means—”
Effie nodded. “Like I said, the story gets better. Mr. Odbody is your cousin—my half-cousin, if there is such a thing. And he went with your parents to Johnstown today to claim a share of Gus Zook’s estate.”
CHAPTER
29
E.J. wanted to know what an estate was. And then he wanted to know if now his family was rich, because if they were, he wanted a fridge in his room with bottles and bottles of berry juice.
Before E.J.’s questions were answered, Moriah asked Effie or someone to explain one more time exactly how all the family relations worked.
Effie’s mom said she’d give it a try. “When Sadie’s twins grew up, the boy married a black woman. Their son is the man you know as Pendleton Odbody. The girl—Patricia—married a white man, Stanley Yoder.”
“Hey, that’s our grandma and grandpa!” E.J. said.
“And their son, Rob, is your dad,” Aunt Clare said. “Since they are from Johnstown—and Sadie lived there too—that’s the court where they filed their claim.”
“You told me ‘Odbody’ isn’t his real name,” Effie reminded her aunt.
“Because it’s not,” Aunt Clare said. “A couple of years ago he came back to town, found the building where the bookstore is, and rented it from us. We didn’t know who he was, and he didn’t want us to. So he used an assumed name.”
“Funny name,” said E.J.
“How did he and Mr. Yoder find each other?” Effie asked.
“It’s all in the court papers,” Uncle Ted said. “Both of them were trying to buy the farm their grandmother had once owned. Mr. Yoder was the high bidder, but during the negotiations they realized they were related.”
“Did Mr. Yoder know then that he was Gus Zook’s grandchild—that they both were?” Effie asked.
“The court filing says he got interested in Gus Zook’s ideas first,” Aunt Clare said. “In the museum’s archive he found a letter Sadie had written to Gus and asked his mother about it. As Moriah says, she didn’t want anything to do with her past. I think that’s why she never tried to make a claim on the estate herself.”
Effie looked at Moriah. “It’s only fair that your family gets half our money.”
“What?” Aunt Clare squeaked. “After all this time? And it wouldn’t be half our money, Effie. After we paid back all those years of the income from the patent, it would be almost all of it.”
“That can’t be helped,” said Effie. “Moriah’s family is just as much Gus Zook’s relatives as we are.”
“Thank you,” said Moriah.
“You’re welcome,” said Effie.
“Maybe we should have told you the truth sooner, Effie,” Aunt Clare said. “But I didn’t think it was right that a child should have to deal with family drama.”
“We don’t know much about children,” Effie’s uncle put in.
“It wasn’t right to hide the truth either,” Effie said. “Is the lawsuit why you were so worried all the time, why you were too busy to keep track of me?”
“Wait—too busy to keep track of her, what?” Effie’s mother looked from Clare to Ted.
They looked sheepish.
Effie piped up. “I was fine on my own, Mom. I got really good at bike riding, and Mr. Odbody’s one of my best friends. At least he was. Also, we had hors d’oeuvres in the parlor every night.”
“We did do that,” said Uncle Ted hopefully.
“We will talk later,” said Effie’s mom.
Aunt Clare explained. “We thought we would need the money from selling property to pay the claim after the judge made his decision. That’s why we canceled Mr. Odbody’s lease, too, so we could sell that building.”
“You didn’t have to cancel it in such a hurry,” Effie said.
“Maybe not,” Aunt Clare admitted. “But we didn’t like it when we learned you were spending so much time there.”
“Speak for yourself,” said Uncle Ted.
“Mr. Odbody was suing us, suing your own family,” Aunt Clare defended herself. “I phoned him as soon as we got home from Fourthfest. I told him that under the circumstances, he was not suitable company for my niece. I guess our words got heated, and he posted the closed sign right away.”
“If Mr. Odbody’s not suitable company for Effie, then E.J. and I aren’t either,” Moriah said. “There’s still bad blood between our families.”
Aunt Clare looked like she wanted to argue but couldn’t find the words. Uncle Ted looked sad, which was the way Effie felt. She had just gained a cousin. Was she about to lose her?
“There doesn’t have to be bad blood,” Effie said. “How about if Moriah and E.J. stay for dinner, and we can call Mr. Odbody, too, and also Mr. and Mrs. Yoder. All we have to decide is what to eat. Shall we order pizza? Alternatively, we could order pizza. Oh wait, unless now we’re too broke for takeout?”
“We’re not too broke,” said Uncle Ted.
“The judge ruled in our favor,” said Aunt Clare.
“We won?” said Effie.
“We lost?” said Moriah.
“Mr. Yoder and Mr. Odbody waited too long,” said Uncle Ted. “The law says a will can’t be overturned more than ten years after the estate’s settled.”
“So we’re still well fixed,” said Effie.
“Actually,” said Effie’s mom, “we’re rich.”
CHAPTER
30
Effie was a tiny bit disappointed. She had just been getting used to being poor. She was imagining herself as a stout-hearted waif dressed in rags, with Moriah, the kind princess wearing overalls and a Steelers cap, offering her toys and canned goods and blankets.
“I’m sorry, Moriah,” said Effie.
“That’s okay,” Moriah said. “I wouldn’t know how to be rich anyway.”
“Can we get pepperoni on the pizza?” E.J. asked.
Moriah shook her head and stood up for the second time. “We can’t stay. Pa and Mama must be home by now. We better make tracks or they’ll worry. Maybe we can come over another time.”
“Is Pa gonna skin us?” E.J. stood up too.
“You can count on reciting a few dozen precepts,” Moriah said.
“Are we going to tell him we’ve been to Zooks’?” E.J. asked.
“We’re going to tell him we’ve been with our cousins,” said Moriah.
“Even if there’s prec
epts, it was worth it,” E.J. said. “I got berry juice. And I got to hear a story.”
• • •
Once Moriah and E.J. had left for home, Uncle Ted took in the hors d’oeuvres plates. When he came back, Chop Suey was right behind him, his tail waving as proudly as a flag. Effie grabbed for him, but the cat jumped up into Aunt Clare’s lap, circled, and made himself comfortable.
Frowning, Aunt Clare leaned back in her chair. “Where did he come from?” she asked.
“He belongs to Mr. Odbody,” Effie said. “He lives at the bookstore—well, lived at the bookstore, back when there was a bookstore.”
“He can’t stay here,” Aunt Clare said. “I hate cats.”
“I see that,” said Effie.
“She always has,” said Effie’s mom.
“There’s a simple solution,” said Uncle Ted. “We could reinstate Mr. Odbody’s lease and let him reopen Sadie’s.”
Aunt Clare opened her mouth to say, “Oh dear” but at the last second changed it to “Fine.” Then she added, “Would someone please remove this cat from my person?”
Effie was happy to do so.
The sun crept toward the horizon. There were no clouds in the sky to turn color and make day’s end beautiful, but Effie could look forward to the fireflies. Uncle Ted had just called to order the pizza when a rattletrap car turned into the driveway from the road below, climbed the hill slowly, and stopped between the house and the garage.
As Effie and her family watched, a thin young woman with stringy hair got out. A notebook was in her left hand. A pen was clenched between her teeth. Her expression was determined.
“Uh-oh—the press,” said Uncle Ted. “Shall I call Mrs. McMinty?”
“I think we can handle her,” said Effie’s mom.
The woman strode toward the house and climbed the porch steps. She opened her notebook, took the pen in her right hand, and said, “I just have a few questions.”
“Go away,” said Aunt Clare.
“Oh, cut her some slack,” said Effie’s mom. “What will it hurt to offer up the family’s point of view? We’re grateful that the wheels of justice . . . yada, yada . . . time to heal, and so forth.”
“Care for a ginger ale?” Uncle Ted asked the woman.
“Thanks, but I’m on deadline,” she said. “I have to get back to Harrisburg.”
“Oh, wow, you must be Tapper Sprocket!” said Effie.
The young woman was obviously surprised. “I am, yeah,” she said. “You must be Effie, right?”
“Effie Starr Zook,” Effie said. “Two r’s in ‘Starr.’ ”
Tapper said, “Nice to meet you. Uh”—she looked to the grown-ups—“like I said, I have a few questions.”
“That sounds like someone I know,” said Effie’s mom.
The young reporter looked at Molly as though she couldn’t place her. Then she did, and her eyebrows shot skyward. “How did you get here so fast?” she asked. “Is it true you were almost devoured by sharks?”
“Imagine that. Someone cares,” said Molly.
“Miss Sprocket,” Effie said, “can I ask you something? Do you get paid to ask questions?”
Tapper Sprocket smiled. Her skin was sallow, but her smile was beautiful. “I do, yeah,” she said. “Not much, but I do.”
Effie sighed. “How wonderful is that? If I could get paid to ask questions, being a grown-up might be okay.”
CHAPTER
31
Once Tapper Sprocket’s story appeared in the paper, other media picked it up, and for a few days no one in America could turn on the TV or stand in line at the supermarket without seeing the faces of Yoders and Zooks before them.
In some versions of the story, the Yoders were the bad guys, trying to take the Zooks’ money and destroy a great man’s reputation. In others, the Zooks were the villains, greedily hogging money that should never have been theirs and defending a man who wasn’t that great after all.
This was all very hard on the real Yoders and Zooks, but, unexpectedly, shared suffering brought them together, same as during war or natural disaster. In the end—either to make themselves look good, or genuinely to be nice—Effie’s family agreed to share half of all future barf bag proceeds with Rob Yoder and Pendleton Odbody. It wasn’t as much money as the lawsuit had asked for, but it wasn’t chicken feed, either.
When Rob and Pendleton agreed, the bad blood between the families came to an end. To celebrate, Mr. Odbody invited all his cousins, Mrs. McMinty, and Mr. Barnes to Sadie’s Books for a reception.
Effie’s parents couldn’t make it. Since they weren’t broke after all, they were back in Hawaii, overseeing the raising of Sunspot I from the bottom of the ocean.
Luke and Adam Yoder were also absent. It was mid-August by this time, and they had football practice.
The rest of the guests all showed up, and they dressed nicely too. Effie wore a sleeveless sheath dress that had arrived FedEx from Bergdorf’s. Mr. Barnes, now clean-shaven, and Mr. Odbody were both wearing sports coats. Moriah had abandoned her usual overalls in favor of a red sundress with matching Converse low-tops. Mrs. McMinty’s shorts were less baggy than usual, but the real surprise was her T-shirt, which read MAUREEN McMINTY FOR MAYOR.
“I hope you don’t mind having some competition,” she told Rob Yoder. “I’m looking forward to lively debates. Perhaps we can address BFA Precept Two, ‘the special place of women in the natural order of things’?”
Mr. Yoder being momentarily speechless, his wife stepped in. “I’ll look forward to those debates myself,” Anjelica Yoder said. “Had you heard, Maureen, that Pendleton has offered me a job? With his new income, he can afford some help around the store, and I’ve always loved to read.”
Effie and Moriah were together pouring drinks at the counter.
“So are you coming to visit over Labor Day or not?” Effie asked her.
“Still not sure,” Moriah said.
“What’s the problem?” Effie said. “My friends are nice. Don’t you want to see the Statue of Liberty? And eat ten kinds of wood-fired pizza?”
“I don’t have the right clothes,” Moriah said. “I can’t exactly wear overalls, can I?”
“In Brooklyn, lots of people do,” said Effie.
“What about your friends?” Moriah asked.
“They don’t wear overalls,” Effie admitted. “Remember when I thought you were a boy?”
“Sure,” said Moriah. “In my family, it’s easier to be a boy. Besides, overalls are what you wear to work outdoors.”
“So when you come,” Effie said, “we’ll go shopping. My family’s rich remember? I can be the benevolent fairy princess, and—”
Moriah giggled. “Cut it out, Effie. My family’s not rich, but I can afford to buy clothes. Wouldn’t the kids at my school be surprised if I showed up in designer jeans?”
“Exactly!” said Effie. “You have to come.”
“Maybe,” said Moriah.
Effie had been right to think that she and Moriah were different. But she’d been wrong to think that was bad. In fact, it just gave them more to talk about.
Mr. Barnes came up. “I brought that postcard you asked for, Effie,” he said, removing it from an inside pocket. “That will be twenty-five cents. I’d like to give it to you for nothing, but we lost out on some funding when Moriah’s pa’s lawsuit didn’t go as expected.”
“I’ve got money.” Effie went for her purse and came back with a quarter, her aunt’s copy of Pippi Longstocking, and two questions. “Mr. Barnes, did you join BFA because you wanted a big donation from Mr. Yoder? Is he the one who suggested the men’s grooming exhibit, too?”
Mr. Barnes said, “Of course not,” but his face had turned pink.
“So I guess you didn’t shave because you lost the donation?” Effie said.
“I shaved because I itched,” said Mr. Barnes.
Moriah leaned over to look at the postcard. It was the one with a photo of the original sketch for the barf bag. �
��Why did you want that?” she asked.
“You’ll see,” Effie said. She opened Pippi Longstocking to the flyleaf, then looked from it to the postcard and nodded. “Thought so,” she said. “Everybody?” She clinked a spoon against a glass to get their attention. “I have something to say. Can you hear me all right?”
E.J. removed his thumb from his mouth. “Sure!”
“Okay, then.” Effie cleared her throat and looked into the far distance. “Here goes. I believe that the barf bag was actually invented by Effie Zook, Effie the First, that is.”
Effie had never actually heard stunned silence before, much less been the cause of it. She found the sensation pleasant. Aunt Clare spoke first. “Honey, that is nonsense. Gus Zook was a great man.”
“You know what, Aunt Clare? Some things aren’t true, no matter how many times you say them.”
“I don’t get it,” said Moriah. “How do you know?”
Effie held up Pippi Longstocking.
“That’s mine,” said Aunt Clare. “I loved it as a kid.”
“Your grandmother wrote you a note inside. See?” Effie displayed the flyleaf for inspection. Next, she held up the postcard. “Notice anything?”
“Same loopy handwriting,” Aunt Clare said in a quiet voice. “But that doesn’t prove—”
“Not prove,” Effie admitted. “But Effie the First went to college too. Why wouldn’t she have been as smart as her husband? Or smarter? Maybe she was tired of being barfed on every time she and Gus got in an airplane. The barf bag was her solution.”
“Barfed on!” E.J. cracked up.
Uncle Ted, meanwhile, was nodding. “Different times back then. Gus Zook might’ve thought the patent office and manufacturers would take a man’s idea more seriously. He might’ve convinced Effie that was the case too.”
“She could have said something later,” said Aunt Clare.
“Maybe she didn’t think anyone would believe her,” said Mr. Odbody.
“If that’s it, she might have been right,” said Mrs. McMinty. “Everyone in this town thought Gus Zook was the great man, and she the kind and dutiful wife. In general, people don’t like to change their minds. It’s too much work.”
Effie Starr Zook Has One More Question Page 11