The Truth as Told by Mason Buttle

by Leslie Connor

  He says, “Why not, Mason? I want to understand this.”

  I say, “Because nobody asked!” Then I say it again. Louder. “Nobody asked!” Tell you what. The green is gone. Just gone.

  I hear a voice. “Hey! Hey!”

  Makes my head snap round. It’s Uncle Drum. I wonder, is he yelling at me? For being so loud. But then he says, “That’s enough now. Don’t you think so, Lieutenant? Mason says nobody asked. He’s right. We didn’t ask.” He looks at Grandma. She shakes her head. Sort of sad. Makes me sad too. Uncle Drum squares up to the lieutenant. He says, “Mason is nothing if not honest. You should believe him.”

  Tell you what. Feels good to hear that. Gives me some guts. I speak up. I say, “Lieutenant, I did check the cellar. On my own. I did. But I didn’t think of the shaft part. Not until this morning. I don’t know why.”

  Uncle Drum clears his throat. He says, “I checked that cellar too.”

  Now I am surprised. And the lieutenant is surprised.

  Uncle Drum says, “I knew the boys had been down there some. Didn’t know how much.” He gives me a tiny nod. But he keeps talking to the lieutenant. He says, “So you bet I checked. I was sure it was empty. I admit it, I didn’t know about the hole.” Uncle Drum dips his chin. He says, “Probably should have.”

  The lieutenant says, “That seems pretty negligent to me, Drum.” He points a finger at him.

  Uncle Drum says, “Say what you will. But a person just cannot know what he doesn’t know. And you can’t always see that a bad thing is going to happen before it happens. If you could, no bad would ever come. Am I right? Don’t you see that in your work, Lieutenant? Don’t you see that plenty?”

  Tell you what. I have got wide eyes on my uncle Drum. I cannot think when he has ever said so much all at once. I cannot think when something made so much sense.

  Then the phone rings. Jolts us all. Me, up out of my chair. My fork flips off my plate. Shayleen pokes her head out like a cuckoo bird. We know this has to be the Chumsky parents. And it is. All heads turn toward Grandma while she takes the call.

  Turns out Calvin is doing great. Great for a boy who got halfway folded up in a hole. Grandma listens, nods her head. Smiles. Her minnow eyes shine. Hand on her heart. She tells us, “No broken bones. But he sustained a concussion.”

  I say, “What is that? What does that mean?”

  Uncle Drum says, “Hard knock on the head, Mason.”

  I say, “Oh, right. That headache he had. And he kept sleeping.”

  Grandma says, “There is some nerve damage in the leg and that will need time to heal. It will be months before he is one hundred percent. But they said his spirits are good.”

  I smile about that. Because it is a thing you could always say about Calvin.

  Grandma says, “He is on the road to recovery. Could be he will come home as soon as tomorrow.”

  Then the lieutenant bursts right there in the kitchen. He says, “Phew! Lucky! We are so lucky.” He breathes the good luck in and out.

  I smile to see him that way. He smiles too. Everyone does. I think how same-side we are. He sets his empty mug on the kitchen counter. Grandma picks it right up. Soaps it with her sponge.

  The lieutenant says, “Still, I will be asking.”

  I look at him and wonder, asking what?

  He says, “I’m going to find out how the boy got into that hole. He’ll be able to tell us.”

  Uncle Drum says, “Did you ever talk to those kids from down the hill? Ask them what they saw?” He jabs a thumb toward the Drinker house.

  The lieutenant says, “You know, we did. And they said just what Mason said.” And now the lieutenant stops. He is giving me a sleepy kind of stare. All is quiet in the kitchen. A second. Or two. He snaps awake and says, “They said it was like Calvin disappeared. And I guess he did. Right into that hole. So he might have trouble remembering, what with the head injury. But I’m going to ask him how that happened. And I hope he can tell me.”

  I think it to myself: Good. I want to know that too.

  chapter 54

  CAVING IN

  It is between bells when I get to the school. Halls are quiet. I head for the SWOOF. Ms. Blinny brings me right inside. Makes me think she has been waiting for me. She calls down to the office. She tells them she is keeping Mason Buttle for the rest of the day. It won’t be all that long. I am super late. Tell you why. So much going on at the crumbledown this morning.

  Ms. Blinny leans toward me. She says, “Oh, Mason. I heard what happened to you last night.”

  I say, “You mean what happened to Calvin? I am not the one that got stuck in the hole.”

  She says, “Yes, but how hard for you too. I’m sure it was a terrible night.”

  And she is right about that.

  She says, “But you have heard, right? Calvin is going to be all right.”

  I nod when she says it. But this is when I find out how choked I am. I can’t really speak to her.

  Might be Ms. Blinny knows the feeling. She offers me the Dragon. She logs me in. I tuck the tissues under the earphones. I make two potato fists. Settle my forehead on them. Then I can talk.

  I tell this to the Dragon:

  Oh. Boy. I am glad to be in the SWOOF. For this whole day. What is left of it. Because I know there is a story. And it is rolling through this school like a stink bomb. Everyone probably knows. How I am the stupid kid who dug a dangerous hole. And Calvin fell in it. Tell you what. I have to plug my ears. I am too tired for it. The right parts and the wrong parts. The way it goes when people are talking and telling. Anyway. So umm I am tired because we searched. In the night. And I walked with the lieutenant. Baird. So umm we did find Calvin. Finally. That is the best thing. Still can’t believe he was in the light shaft. That one we built in the root cellar. I can give that all up now. Because it is gone. Whole thing is.

  See umm the town of Merrimack well they sent the building inspector over. This morning. Early. Before I came to school. Late. And it was not good news what they said to Uncle Drum. I mean. It’s okay because umm I know you cannot really get all good news in one day. And we needed good news about Calvin most of all.

  But the inspector well he said sorry. He said the root cellar was a condemnable hazard is what. Big danger. The inside ceiling was near to collapse. They said we could have lost that boy in there. Calvin. So. Then. The town, they sent the machine. Pretty big one. Digger on one end. Payloader on the other. Uncle Drum and Grandma let me stay home for it. So I was there to see when they set that big claw down on the roof of the root cellar. Sure did take a bite there. Like a dinosaur eats a meal. Ate the dirt first. Then it got down to where there was popping and cracking. Breaking. Tell you what. Less than one hour and they had dug away the whole top. They pushed it all into the cellar. Brambles. Broken boards. And our Sonotube. It is all piled right on top of where Calvin and I hung out. The man from the town said the old foundation umm the stone part could stay. So we have two walls standing up out of the ground now. Looks weird. Like they need something to go across the top of them. And they told Uncle Drum we better do that. Get some new boards. Cap it. For safety. Anyway the inspector said those walls are remarkable. And solid. Because things were built to last back in the time when the Buttle farm was new.

  Well. So. It was hard to see it come down. And I guess I will have to tell Calvin our Caves of Lascaux got all crushed. Oh but umm one thing is still there. On one of those good old stony walls. The aurochs. Looks like he is standing in old boards and dirt now. Can’t see his feet. It’s too bad. But he is in the open now. Kind of like he is looking at the orchard. Feels best to think of it that way.

  I stop talking. I sit. Keep my head down on my fists. I’m still as a rock. Someone else will want to get on this Dragon. Soon, I bet. But I don’t move. Not yet. I think, maybe I should tell the Dragon more.

  There is another thing that keeps coming. The bad-luck part. Like something dark that follows me. I worry. Seemed better for a while. But umm. I
think it might. I think it is still there. What if we didn’t find Calvin? I can’t help it. I think how we lost things. Bing. Bang. Boom. Scares me. I know I made a big mistake. I didn’t give up the root cellar. Should have. Like the lieutenant said. A person should know. I feel stupid. I feel dangerous. Makes me scared to be me. The way I am. Because what can you do about that. Nothing.

  I feel a hand on my back. Did I stop talking? How long? I think, uh-oh, Annalissetta Yang! I pop my head up. Pull off that headset.

  I’m wrong. It is Ms. Blinny. She whispers, “Sorry. I startled you.” Then she pulls a tissue off the side of my head. She points to the screen. She says, “May I read?” She is so kind the way she says it.

  I say, “Sure.” Already can’t remember what I was writing. Then I know. I have been asleep at the Dragon. Just awhile. Then I think I should not say yes about her reading. But it is too late.

  Ms. Blinny reads fast. She is looking at me. It’s that way that I know she is seeing more than just my eyeballs. She sees in. She says, “Aw, Mason. I’m so sorry.”

  My jaw gets shivery. I try to stop it. Makes it worse.

  Ms. Blinny says, “You know what happened? You learned something really important. That’s your job as a kid. This crazy, awful experience is probably preparing you for a really great decision somewhere down the line. Something no one can even guess about yet.” She smiles. She says, “How cool is that?”

  I try to keep my jaw still. But it wants to shake. And it aches.

  Ms. Blinny reaches into the basket on her desk. The flat glitter rocks with words on them. She holds one in her hand. She says, “Please. Don’t be afraid. Live your big life, Mason! You are not bad luck. You’re not stupid, or dangerous, or any of those things.” She hands me the rock. She says, “This is you. Loyal. You are a loyal friend.”

  chapter 55

  AUROCHS IN THE ORCHARD

  I sit by myself on the bus ride home. I hear the stink bomb of a story. Comes right up the aisle. The backseaters are talking about what happened to Calvin Chumsky. There is some lying going on.

  I hear this: Calvin was upside-down in the hole. Blood rushed into his head and came out of his eyes. He was eaten by ants. He broke all his bones. He will never walk again.

  I turn around. Look at the backseaters. I say, “No. He’s recovering, Calvin is. We got a call at my house. He will be okay.”

  Lance says, “Buttle, who asked you?”

  Matt says, “Yeah! Who did? And nice try, siccing the cops on us. When the whole thing was your fault! Ha-ha-ha! The hole thing!”

  I say, “Been wondering something . . . What did you see? Like, when you said you lost the pygmy. Yesterday. Part of that chase.”

  Tell you what, they look like they are thinking it over. Not trying to make up an answer. But like they aren’t sure what the answer is. And Corey McSpirit is listening from the next seat over. I can see him looking on. Side eyes.

  Matt answers me. Kind of serious. He says, “We already told the cops. We came around the house and he . . . I don’t know.” He looks at Lance. Then he says, “It was like the kid vanished.”

  Lance says, “What are you, Buttle? The big interrogator, here? If you or anyone thinks we stuffed that kid in the hole, you’re wrong. We didn’t even know it was there. And hey, Butt-hole, why do you have glitter on your sweaty mitts? Did you make arts and craps in the SWOOF today?”

  I don’t answer. I turn back. Sit straight in my seat. I know who I am. I am the best friend of Calvin Chumsky.

  And the glitter is because I am loyal.

  When we get to the cluster stop nothing happens. They do not chase me. They do not throw anything. I walk up to the crumbledown. Uncle Drum has put a sheet of plywood over those joists. Just loose. I step on it. It thumps and rattles.

  I clomp along it and go inside. I sit at the kitchen counter. I ask Grandma has she heard any more news on Calvin. She says it’s going well. The Chumsky parents still hope he can come home tomorrow. She will make them chicken dinner. Grandma hits the button on the blender. Makes one banana shake. She hands it to me. She says, “Maybe what you really need is a good nap.” She might be right.

  But I got some funniness about me. Tired. But moving all around. I don’t know where to be or what to do. There is no root cellar. No Calvin. Moonie Drinker has not showed up. Wish he would. But wish he wouldn’t. That could mean trouble for him.

  I walk into the orchard. Not far. I turn and look back through the rows of trees. I see the back of the crumbledown. Sure is dug up and different back there. I see the root cellar. What is left of it. That heap. Uncle Drum has to decide about trucking that mess to the transfer station. Or maybe getting a dumpster.

  I can see the two good walls and the aurochs from where I am. It’s a strange thing my eyes do. And my brain. I know he is just charcoal and oil crayons on the old stony wall. And now a few scrapes from the digger. And his ankles are stuck under a mess of brambles and boards. But when I look through the apple branches—just the right way—it can look like he is in the orchard. Standing still.

  I go up to our shed. Grab for the steel-toothed rake. I use that to free the aurochs. Just pull some of the mess from our condemnable hazard away from his feet. Then I smell maple and bacon.

  Uncle Drum looks at the rake in my hands. He says, “We’ll get that mess cleaned up, Mason. I’ll figure it out. But probably better if you don’t go climbing and picking around in there. Last thing you want is an old rusty nail in your foot.”

  I nod. I lean my chin on the rake. I say, “But can we really?” And I look at the aurochs instead of Uncle Drum. I say, “Can we get it cleaned up? And do like the town said. Put a new cap on it? I’ll help.”

  Uncle Drum says, “We will do something. I promise.”

  chapter 56

  NEW DIALOGUE

  We sit down to dinner and nobody’s talking much. But it’s a better kind of quiet than we sometimes have. Like a golden kind of quiet because we know that Calvin is okay.

  But then Shayleen hears the gravel popping out front of the crumbledown. She makes a dash for the window. Wants to see if it is the UPS truck. But I am thinking that he doesn’t come this late.

  Shayleen groans. Nose against the glass. She says, “Ugh! It’s him again. Why doesn’t he just pitch a tent in the yard? He’s here morning, noon, and night anyway!”

  I say, “Who?”

  Shayleen says, “Lieutenant Baird.”

  Well, there goes anything that was good about supper. Got food turning cruddy in my gut before I get to eat much of it.

  Grandma says, “Well, Shayleen. He had good reason to be here last night and this morning. There was a missing boy.”

  She is right. But I wonder what the lieutenant wants tonight. If it’s not about Calvin and the root cellar, it will be about Benny. And I am thinking how I don’t have anything new in that notebook for him.

  Before he gets to the door I say, “Let’s make sure he sees that the root cellar is gone. Make him happy.”

  Uncle Drum nods about that. But then he lets the lieutenant in. Doesn’t mention it.

  The lieutenant says he is sorry to arrive during our supper. Then he says he has been thinking of me all day. I believe him. He even looks like he is thinking now. Grandma and Uncle Drum and Shayleen all stay at the table while he talks. He doesn’t ask for the notebook.

  He says, “Mason, so much has happened in the last twenty-four hours. And after spending that time with you, I got an idea. I thought maybe we could start a new dialogue.”

  I think this: I am ready to talk about something new. Maybe there could be no interrupting.

  I say, “Fine with me.”

  He says, “Did you ever go to the tree house alone?”

  This does not sound like new dialogue. I scratch my head. Wipe sweat. I say, “Yes. Did that plenty. Because, you know, it’s in the Buttle orchard. So. Closer to my house. And there was other stuff going on. Like, Benny had a tutor. One day a week. I can’t remember which
day. Not anymore. And then there were some days he had . . . I don’t know what. Other stuff to do.”

  I finish. I think it is pretty good how long the lieutenant let me talk. He nodded, is all.

  He says, “And you know how Benny fell down from that ladder. Right?”

  I say, “Well, you told me. Weak rung.”

  He says, “I’m going to tell you something more. More of this puzzle. Something that I know, and it might surprise you that I know it.”

  I am already having trouble. Not sure what he means. Why would I be surprised?

  He says, “You tell me if this sounds familiar. Tell me if it sounds like something you remember.”

  So now I listen. Not just with my ears. I listen with everything I am. With all the blood that runs inside of me.

  He says, “Benny fell because somebody tampered with that top rung.”

  I say, “Tampered? I don’t know . . . I tried to build that ladder right.”

  He says, “No, no. It’s not how you built the ladder, Mason. It was sound. A good ladder. Until someone cut partway through the back of that rung.”

  I say, “Wait. Cut? You think somebody sawed on it?”

  He points a finger at me—like to say that I am right about that. He says, “And I don’t just think it. I know it. We can see that it was cut, Mason. And that’s what we need to know more about. Somebody could do something like that just thinking it was a joke. A prank. Something silly.”

  I say, “Wait. Lieutenant.” Now my mouth can hardly make the words. I say, “You think somebody . . . cut that on purpose? So it would break? With someone standing on it?”

  He nods a slow nod. He says, “The cut looks like it was made with a handsaw.”

  I say, “Handsaw. Like mine? The one that has been missing?” The lieutenant stares a stare that says yes.

  The silence puts a pain in my ear. Comes on so sudden. My breath is going all wrong. Dirt green is floating in. I say, “I remember . . . you asked me where my saw was. And if I threw it away somewhere in the orchard.”