I was relieved when Sam suggested we get something to eat. We found a restaurant at the resort, and I ordered the buffet. Though Mom can’t stand salad bars, I love them. I like the dressing, croutons, cheese, sunflower seeds, and veggies. Here, you could get any kind of meat you wanted, from fried chicken to buffalo, and any kind of potato, fish, and lots of steamed vegetables.
Dylan stared at my plate when I got back to the table, and his eyes grew wide. He has a way of wanting whatever is not on his plate. No matter how much food he already has, if he sees cottage cheese, even on TV, he wants it.
“I want cartoons,” he said.
Sam grinned. “You want what?”
“Cartoons.”
“Croutons,” Bryce said.
Sam chuckled. “Leigh used to call them wood chips.”
“Cartoons!” Dylan chortled.
Sam faced him. “When you finish what you have, I’ll get you some, okay?”
I could tell it wasn’t okay with Dylan, but it got his eyes back onto his plate. Then he wanted a red drink instead of a yellow one, and I told Sam I would get it.
I felt sorry for Sam. He had taken us as his children, but I knew he missed his own wife and daughter. I had seen their pictures in Leigh’s room. The little girl looked sweet in the heart-shaped frame Mom had given Leigh.
Dylan was a lot of work, even for Mom, and though Sam had seemed to win him over with the Chunky Monkey and the trip to the cabin, I was surprised Dylan hadn’t cried for Mom during the night. He usually clung to her.
When Dylan wailed over a piece of celery, Sam took a deep breath. “You two ready?”
Bryce’s plate wasn’t even half empty, but we looked at each other and said, “Okay” at the same time.
We weren’t in the SUV three minutes before Dylan fell asleep. “Nap management,” my mom calls it.
Early in the afternoon we got back to the cabin, and I was ready for a nap myself.
The chain was down on the driveway and Sam stopped. “Thought I put that back before we left.”
“Maybe it fell,” Bryce said.
Sam handed the keys to Bryce, who went to unlock the cabin. Getting Dylan from the Land Cruiser to his bed without waking him is tricky and almost never works unless it’s a straight shot from the SUV to the sheets.
“Sam!” Bryce yelled from the front door. “You’d better come see this!”
Dylan woke up and Sam stared at Bryce.
“Sorry, but somebody broke in.”
Chapter 30
It looked like a tornado had hit the cabin. The kitchen table was on its side, food all over the floor. Cushions had been taken from the chairs and the large couch near the fireplace.
“Don’t touch anything,” Sam said as he carried Dylan inside.
I stepped over the debris, went to Ashley’s bedroom, and found the mattresses off the bunk beds. It was the same in my room and upstairs. Downstairs, things were even worse. The computer cabinet lay on the floor, the computer gone.
Ashley took Dylan upstairs to keep him away from the broken glass.
Sam pulled out his cell phone and dialed the local police. I could tell by the way he spoke that he wasn’t happy with the people on the other end.
He hung up and dialed another number. “Jack, it’s Sam . . . yeah, we made it fine, but we just got back from a little adventure and the place has been ransacked. More mess than real damage, though there’s a window downstairs that’ll need some work. The computer is gone. . . . No, we had it locked.”
Sam paused and frowned. He told the owner of the cabin that he had contacted the police.
“Is the guy mad at us?” I said after he hung up.
“I don’t think so. Upset, I guess. I would be too. He may know someone over at the police station who can come out and take a look.”
“Who would do this?” I said.
Sam pursed his lips. “If it was a thief, he would have taken more than just the computer. Everything else is still here. Whoever it was was searching for something in particular.”
By the time the police got to the cabin a couple of hours later, I was going crazy trying to keep Dylan from going outside and messing up the footprints, but we also didn’t want him to get hurt inside. The pinball machine kept him busy. I was glad the robber hadn’t trashed it.
Ashley came downstairs to watch Dylan when the deputy arrived. He was skinny and sort of young, with a patchy mustache. Ashley said it was the same deputy they saw at Gold Town. He took notes but didn’t seem to want to be here, like he was playing in a minor-league baseball game when he could have been in the majors.
“Any news on the gold?” I said.
The deputy glanced at me, then went on writing.
Sam raised an eyebrow and frowned. He seemed to be saying, “This guy isn’t as interested in our problem as we’d like him to be, but it’s not your fault.”
The deputy finally looked up. “Anything to add, Sport?”
There may be some 13-year-olds who like to be called Sport, but I’m not one of them. People use nicknames with kids because they can’t remember their names or don’t care to know them. Plus, we used to have a neighbor whose dog was named Sport.
I told the deputy about Boo Heckler, what he had said about our ATVs, and about the e-mail.
Sam looked troubled so I gave him a smirk that I hoped he would read as, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—I wanted to handle it myself, but now it’s just too big.”
“Think he could have followed you up here?” the deputy said.
“Somebody would have had to drive him. The guy we saw out the window last night was smoking, and I know Boo smokes.”
“You sure it was a man?” the deputy said.
I shrugged. “Could have been a man or a woman, I guess.”
“Okay.” The deputy slapped his notepad shut. “Call us if you need us.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Sam said.
“I’d patch the window and clean up this place.”
“No fingerprints?”
The deputy sighed. “Sorry.”
Chapter 31
Bryce and I helped Sam clean up. He swept the glass into a trash can and put it outside on the patio. Dylan just played pinball. As long as we heard the ding-ding of the machine, we knew he was okay.
As I worked, I thought about Mom. I kicked myself for not telling her the truth about what had happened at Hayley’s. Inside my head was just like this cabin—all messed up. I had a feeling that no matter how much I tried to clean myself up, there was no way I could without talking to Mom.
I got out my journal, and for the first time in a long time, I had no candle to burn while I wrote. But sometimes you have to just go ahead and write.
Dear God,
I’m really sorry about what happened at Hayley’s house. I feel so bad that I didn’t say something and stop the movie or at least walk out. Please forgive me and help me talk to Mom about it. And please help me talk to Hayley too. I want her to become a believer in you.
Please help me find some way to talk to her. And thank you for forgiving me.
I signed the entry with an A. I never end my journals to God with amen, because it would make things seem too official. When I journal to God, it’s just me and him.
I flipped to the beginning of the notebook and found another entry. The words made tears come to my eyes. It’s funny how a journal can change in only a few pages. The first entry described a day Dad had spent with us.
He had taken us to his office in downtown Chicago, then to Lake Michigan. Mom, who was feeling sick, had stayed behind. With the wind in our faces we walked along the lakeshore, looking at the tall buildings across Lake Shore Drive and out at the lake on the other side. The water didn’t seem to end, just like the ocean. Gulls danced on the sand, picking at trash. Cars sped along Lake Shore Drive, but when you looked at the water it didn’t feel like you were near a huge city.
“Why do you have to go away, Dad?” Bryce had said without a
hint of a stutter. “Can’t you stay?”
“It won’t be a very long trip,” Dad said.
“It’s halfway on the other side of the world,” I said.
He sat us on the sand and hugged us tight. “I brought you here today because I wanted to tell you something very important, and I want you to always remember where you found out.”
“Found out what?” Bryce said.
He pulled out a video camera and turned it on, pointing it at our faces. “You two are about to go through one of the biggest changes in your entire lives.”
“This isn’t the big-boy talk, is it?” Bryce said.
“What big-boy talk?” Dad said.
“You know, the one about your body changing and that ‘poogerty’ stuff?”
“Puberty,” I said.
Dad stifled a laugh and hugged us again. “No, this is a different kind of change.”
A few months earlier Dad had become a Christian and started going to Bible studies and church. Mom wasn’t interested, but we could all see a change in him. It wasn’t like he stopped getting drunk or robbing banks, because he had never done that. The best way to explain it is that he seemed to open a door to a room he didn’t know existed, and it changed everything. I could see it in his eyes. When he looked at you, he didn’t look past you to the next thing. He really looked.
He pointed toward the lake. “See the horizon, where the water meets the sky? I want you to be looking right there when I tell you this. Are you looking?”
“Yeah,” we said, both of us eager to hear what he was going to say.
“Bryce, you’re going to be a big brother. Ashley, you’re going to be a big sister.”
Bryce leaned forward and stared at me, his mouth open. I couldn’t hide my excitement either. We had asked Mom and Dad for a little brother or sister—me for a girl, Bryce for a boy.
Dad took the video back home and showed it to Mom. Big tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched.
Every time I look at water now, I think of Dad and that day. What he didn’t tell us, and what he didn’t know, was that he wouldn’t be around to help us become a good big brother or sister.
I flipped to June 23.
We just heard on the news that a plane going to Europe went down in the ocean. They think it’s Dad’s plane and that it might have been a terrorist attack.
The next few entries talked about the funeral and the days after.
It rained at the funeral today. It was weird not actually seeing Dad’s body. We all sat in front of an empty coffin with his picture on top. I don’t remember much about what the pastor said or what verses he used. I just remember trying not to cry and being a miserable failure.
They had a memorial service at Dad’s church, and people got up and talked about him. They all looked at us, cried, and told us what a good man our dad had been. Something about it made me angry. I don’t need these people to tell me what my dad was like. I knew him. He was the one who read to me, tucked me in at night, and took us to movies. I didn’t even want to be there, but Mom said it was important for “closure”—whatever that means. Wasn’t it enough “closure” that they closed the lid and buried the coffin?
Then came the entries about the first pictures on TV of the plane wreckage floating on the waves. Mom had kept us from watching the video at first. Then she let us. Some families actually got in boats and went out to sea to toss wreaths. I asked her why we couldn’t do that, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she took some dirt from Dad’s grave, used it to plant flowers, and gave the pots to friends. She also put some throughout the house. A few days later all the flowers had died.
A month later some news crews came to interview Mom. We listened from upstairs as she tried to describe her feelings and tell what it was like to move on with life. That’s the weird thing. At first it feels like everybody in the world cares about you, and then they all just go back about their business like nothing’s happened.
I closed the journal and thought of watching Dad shave right before his last trip. I wish we would have gone to the airport that day and said good-bye. We all thought he was coming home. Nobody on that plane came home.
Now I think of Dad in heaven, watching us. I don’t know if that’s how it works, if he can actually see us. Somewhere in the New Testament—I think it’s Hebrews—it says that we are surrounded by a huge crowd of witnesses. I like to think of my dad in that crowd, cheering us on. I don’t know if he’s there or if he’s off building something or maybe worshiping God.
Part of me thinks he’s just standing by Jesus. Another part of me thinks he’s standing at the horizon, where the water meets the sky, waiting for us.
Chapter 32
“Do you hear that?” Sam said.
Ashley was off by herself, and I was helping Sam clean up the living room and kitchen.
“I don’t hear anything,” I said.
“Exactly,” Sam said. “What do you think Dylan’s up to?”
“Dylan!” I whispered.
We bolted downstairs. Sam had duct taped a piece of cardboard over the broken window, but still it was about 10 degrees colder down there than upstairs.
I was about to yell for Dylan when Sam put a hand on my shoulder and pointed toward the pinball machine. Dylan had both hands atop it, his head (which is about two times too big for his body) resting against one flipper button. As he breathed, the flippers clicked, but there was no ball to hit. His little eyelids were shut, but his mouth was open just enough for his tongue to stick through. His shirtsleeve had a drool stain the size of a quarter.
How he stood there without his knees giving way, I’ll never know.
Sam ran for his cell phone and snapped a picture. This was a sure winner for one of those funny kid contests. I went upstairs to get Ashley, but she was on a bed with an arm over her face. Her journal was nearby, so I left her alone and crept back downstairs.
“What should we do with him?” Sam said. I could tell he wasn’t just saying it. He really wanted my opinion.
“I don’t think he’s ever gone to sleep standing up before,” I said. “Mom always says we should leave him wherever he rolls to a stop.”
Sam smiled and grabbed a pillow from the couch. “In case he slides down, this’ll break his fall.”
Chapter 33
I wiped my eyes so Bryce and Sam wouldn’t notice I had been crying. They were at the kitchen table, a yellow legal pad in front of Bryce.
Sam said they were trying to figure things out. “I wonder if we should head back home.”
I agreed with him, but I didn’t want to be a chicken.
“Here’s what we have so far,” Bryce said, sliding the pad over to me.
I read the list silently.
1. Prowler seen last night outside the house.
2. Suspicious car at the ski resort. Could be watching us.
3. Cabin ransacked while we were gone—what are they looking for?
4. Boo Heckler made threats.
Sam plugged his laptop into the high-speed modem. The robbers had missed it in his suitcase. “Do you know Boo’s father’s name?”
Bryce shook his head. “Why?”
“I want to see if he’s at home.”
“I think it’s Darryl,” I said, remembering the e-mail message. I looked at Bryce. “I don’t know if calling him is a good idea.”
“The cabin’s phone doesn’t come up on caller ID,” Sam said.
He pulled up all the Hecklers in Red Rock. “It’d probably be better if one of you asked for him. If I call and ask if he’s home, they’ll probably ask who it is.”
“I’ll do it,” I said.
“No, let me,” Bryce said.
Chapter 34
I dialed the number slowly, then hit the End button. “What if Boo answers?”
“Say you got a wrong number,” Ashley said.
“Just hand it to me,” Sam said.
I thought Boo should have some kind of special toll-free number like 1-800-SCARY.
My hands started sweating, and I worried about stuttering. My family thinks my stuttering doesn’t bother me, but it does. A lot.
The line was busy. I wiped my hands on my pants.
“Should we put the stolen gold on the clue list?” Ashley said.
Sam nodded. “It’s a long shot, but it could be related.”
I added it and wrote that the person outside the house was a smoker. We also wrote down the description of the car I saw at the ski resort.
“Try it again,” Ashley said.
This time it rang. Before I could hang up, a girl answered, probably one of Boo’s sisters.
“Uh . . . yeah . . . is A-a-aron there?”
“Hang on.” She screamed his name without covering the phone, and I handed it to Sam.
“Hello, Aaron,” he said in his deep voice. “How are you?” Sam grinned at me. “Well, I’m part of a group of concerned parents at the school.”
Sam paused and held the phone away from his ear. Because the handset was turned up, Ashley and I both heard Boo.
“I didn’t do anything,” Boo said. “Who are you, anyway?”
“As I said, just a concerned parent. And I’m calling for a very important reason.”
“What’s that?”
I held a hand over my mouth. Ashley turned red.
“Have you been home all weekend?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Well,” Sam said, trying to hold his own laughter, “we’re making sure all of our top students are getting enough rest this weekend so they’ll be ready for the CATs on Monday. Are you planning any trips or sleepovers?”
“Not that I know of,” Boo said, his voice a little calmer. “I’m on the list of top students?”
As far as I knew, Boo had never made the honor roll.
“Well, actually, any person who doesn’t take the test gets a zero, so we really need everyone there,” Sam said, then put his hand over the mouthpiece so Boo wouldn’t hear his chuckles.
Haunted Waters Page 5