Allison O'Brian on Her Own, Volume 2

by Melody Carlson

  “Slow down, reporter girl.” James held up both hands and laughed. “One question at a time. Maybe you’d like to take notes.”

  “Actually, I would.” Allison jumped out of bed.

  “Okay, then, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you get yourself dressed, and I’ll fill you in on the details while you eat breakfast.”

  “I’ll be down in a snap.”

  Allison decided to dress for school. She wanted to finish her story and then hand deliver it to Howie in time to make the paper. She wished she could send it into the Port View Herald, too, but Sam Long had probably already assigned it to a reporter by now. She knew that newspapers kept close contact with the police on stories like this.

  Her father was already seated at the table reading the Herald when she came downstairs. “That was record time,” he said as he laid down his paper. “There’s a story about the most recent robberies, including your friend Susan’s home. But nothing about the lighthouse yet.”

  Allison sat down at the table. “I was hoping I could finish my story and take it in to Howie today.”

  “You kids these days!” he said in mock concern. “Grace told me that Andrew got up and went to school this morning, too. Now, when I was a kid I’d do anything to get a day off from school. But you kids won’t even let us keep you home.”

  “You should be happy, Dad. That means we like school.”

  James grinned. “Well, I’m not surprised. I figured that’s what you would do. And I have an idea, Allison.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How about if you type it at home and use carbon paper. That way you can give a copy to the Port View Herald.”

  “Really? You think they’d want my story? I thought they’d probably already have a reporter on it.”

  “Maybe . . .” Dad’s eyes twinkled with mystery.

  “Have you been talking to someone?”

  “Actually, the phone’s been ringing all morning. But Sam Long did get wind of yesterday’s events and would like to interview you today. I mentioned that you were writing your own story for the school paper, and he sounded very interested. He did mention that a reporter is already covering the main story, but that yours would make a very interesting sidebar.”

  Allison beamed at him as she set down her empty orange juice glass. “Sounds like this is going to be a fun day!”

  Muriel stepped in and placed a plate of ham and eggs in front of Allison. “Just don’t you be overdoing it,” she warned. “If I had my way, we’d keep you in bed all day—what with getting soaked to the skin and sitting in a drafty lighthouse all night.”

  Allison smiled up at her. “Don’t worry, Muriel. I feel just swell. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll go to bed extra early tonight.”

  “That makes me feel a little better.”

  Allison turned back to James. “Now, tell me how they caught the burglars.” She picked up her pencil, ready to write.

  “Okay, but don’t let your breakfast get cold.” He took a sip of coffee and slowly began. “Early this morning, the crooks decided to pick up their ill-gotten gain. Maybe they suspected that someone was on to them—”

  “Or maybe they saw smoke from my fire last night.”

  “Could be. Anyway, the guardsmen in the lighthouse heard their boat and slipped out and caught them loading the stolen property into their fishing boat. There were three of them. I’ve got their names written down at my desk, the number of houses they broke into, and a partial list of stolen goods. The police think almost everything will be recovered.”

  “That’s great, Dad. Susan will be so pleased.” Allison took a big bite of eggs, then furiously wrote some notes.

  “The Coast Guard cutter came by and picked them up, then towed their boat out around eight this morning. I wanted to wake you up, but Muriel said absolutely not. George and I went out on the dock to watch, and I took quite a few photographs for you.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Hey, maybe I could give them to Howie to develop in time for the paper.”

  “Sure. Maybe Sam Long would like some, too. I didn’t see any newspaper people around.”

  Allison finished her last bite, then hastily wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Thanks, Dad. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go finish my story.”

  “Off you go,” he said. “I’ll be in the basement. Let me know when you need a ride to school.”

  Allison took her Dad’s advice and used a piece of carbon paper in the typewriter to make a carbon copy of her article. It was tricky work and somewhat messy, but by noon, she had corrected her last mistake and carefully rolled the two pages out of the upright Underwood typewriter. What a story! She almost didn’t believe it herself when she skimmed it for the final time. Howie would be so pleased, and maybe Sam would like it, too.

  She ran down the basement stairs to let her dad know she was finished, but when she saw what he was working on, she stopped in her steps and just stared.

  “Wow, Dad,” she breathed. “That is absolutely gorgeous.”

  He turned and smiled. “You like it?”

  “Yes. And I think Grace is going to like it, too.” Allison stepped closer and studied the painting. As usual, it was a somewhat impressionist style, only softer somehow. It almost seemed as if Grace were draped in a soft white cloud, but upon closer look, Allison could see it was a dress, perhaps even a wedding gown. She put her hand on his arm. “I think it’s beautiful, Dad. Does Grace know about it?”

  “No, and I don’t want you to spill the beans. It’s a Christmas-wedding present. And if she doesn’t mind, I’d like to hang it over the fireplace in Father’s old bedroom. I think Grace and I will take that room, since it’s the largest.”

  “I won’t say a word.” Allison looked at the portrait again. Somehow seeing Grace in this light erased any lingering doubt that Allison might have had about Dad still caring for Marsha. There’s no way he could paint a picture like this without being totally in love with Grace.

  “Well, I’m sure you didn’t come down here to ogle my work,” he said as he wiped off his brush. “And I’m ready when you are.”

  “Swell. I finished my story—complete with a carbon copy for Sam.”

  “Good girl. Let me clean my hands, and we can be on our way.”

  James decided it would save time to swing by the newspaper office first. He led Allison to the reception desk and proudly introduced her to a sweet-faced, gray-haired woman.

  “I’m so happy to meet you, Allison,” said the woman. “I’m Clara Long. Sam is my boy, and he gets me to come fill in for the receptionist sometimes.” She winked at Allison. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Allison O’Brian. I’ll let Sam know you’re here.”

  After a short wait, Sam came out and shook hands with both of them. “Good to see you, James,” he said as he led them to his office. “You must be awfully proud of your daughter.”

  James nodded. “You better believe it. And I think you’re going to like what she’s brought you.”

  Allison produced the carbon copy. “I’m giving the original to Howie for the Pirate Chest,” she said apologetically. “But Dad thought you might like to see a copy, too.”

  “That’s for sure.” Sam took a few minutes to scan the story. “This looks intriguing, Allison. Do you mind if I edit it and run it in tomorrow’s paper? Of course, it might end up scooping your own school paper.”

  Allison laughed. “It’ll only scoop us by a couple of hours. Our paper comes out on Thursday morning.”

  “Great. Then we’ll both be happy. I have a reporter, Henry Biggs, working on the whole story. He would like to ask you a few questions if you have time.”

  “Sure,” agreed Allison. “Lead me to him.”

  Henry wrapped up his questions within twenty minutes, and Allison and her father got a burger at Wally’s, then headed over to school.

  “I wonder if I should have tried to call Howie,” fretted Allison. “He may have already put the paper to bed by now.”

  “Jus
t tell him to stop the presses,” teased James.

  Suddenly, Allison remembered Shirley. Would she see Shirley at school today? And if she did, what would she say to her?

  James glanced her way. “Are you all right? You look like you’re not feeling too well. Maybe Muriel was right about resting today.”

  “I’m okay, Dad.” She spoke slowly. “I was just thinking of Shirley.”

  “Oh.” Her father shook his head as he turned into the school parking lot. “I never heard back from Hal. I was planning on following up with him this afternoon. At the time, I didn’t think you’d be going to school today. You know, Allison, you don’t have to go to class if you’d rather not. I already called the office and excused you. I could drop the story in the office—”

  “No, Dad. I am not going to let Shirley ruin my life.”

  James smiled. “That’s the O’Brian spirit. And remember, like you said last night, it’s Shirley who has the problem. As long as you keep a safe distance, you should be just fine.”

  “Right.” Allison hoped that was true.

  “Do you want me to wait for you? Or do you want to catch a ride with Heather and Andrew?”

  “I’ll ride with them.” Allison blew him a kiss. “Thanks for everything, Dad. Tell Muriel not to worry—I’m fine.”

  “Have a good afternoon. And if you see Shirley Jenson, don’t let her get to you.”

  Allison gave him the thumbs-up sign, then dashed up the steps and into the front door. Students were already in sixth-period class, and Allison hurried down the deserted hallway toward the art room. She wondered if Shirley would be there. Allison explained to her teacher that she had been excused for the day but then decided to come for her last two classes. Mr. Roper just smiled and waved her to her seat. She glanced around the room, but Shirley was not there. Allison sighed and pulled out her pen-and-ink drawing of a clipper ship. She wanted to finish it in time to have it framed for Dad for a Christmas present, but there were only three days to fill in a whole lot of details. So she got right to work, and when the bell rang, she realized she had accomplished quite a bit.

  She knew that she probably wouldn’t be able to locate Howie until after school, and besides, she had an assignment due in algebra, so she hurried to her last class of the day. She tried to keep her eyes off the clock, but it seemed like the math class would never end. Finally the bell rang, and she sprang from her seat and practically ran for the journalism room.

  “Hey, you’re here!” exclaimed Andrew when she nearly tackled him coming around a corner.

  “Yes,” said Allison breathlessly, “and I’ve got to find Howie.”

  Andrew frowned slightly. “Howie?”

  “To give him my story,” said Allison. “For the paper.”

  “Oh yes, of course.” Andrew jogged to keep up with her on her way to the journalism room. “I’m heading that way, too. So what kind of a story did you manage to put—”

  “Oh, that’s right,” said Allison. “You don’t know yet!”

  “Don’t know what?”

  “They caught the robbers this morning! So I finished my story.”

  “They caught them?” Andrew looked at her incredulously as he opened the journalism room door. “Tell me all about—”

  “Hey, Allison!” called Howie. “I was about to give up on you.”

  “Then stop the presses!” she cried for pure dramatic pleasure. “Because have I got a story for you!”

  “What a relief! I was saving a spot for you, but when I heard you weren’t at school today, I thought I’d have to use some filler that Beverly had pulled together yesterday. Not only that, but Shirley hasn’t turned in anything, either. This was going to be a pretty sorry edition to wrap up the year.”

  “Have you seen Shirley today?” asked Allison as she handed over her story.

  “Nope.” Howie adjusted his glasses, then skimmed the article. “You’re kidding, Allison!” He looked up at her in amazement. “You mean your hunch was right? This is incredible.” He turned to Andrew. “Do you know about this?”

  Andrew nodded. “Mostly. I helped rescue her last night. Well, not exactly rescue—”

  Allison stopped him. “I’d call it a rescue. I was scared out of my wits before you and Dad got there.”

  “You seemed in control to me,” said Andrew. “You should have seen her, Howie. She was holed up in the lighthouse with a barricade blocking the door—”

  “Wow!” interrupted Howie. “This is terrific, Allison. And they already caught the criminals and everything. What a story.”

  “Yes,” agreed Allison. Then she reached into her pocket for the undeveloped film. “And I almost forgot. My dad got pictures of the Coast Guard hauling away the pirate boat.” She handed it to Howie. “I hope you have time to develop these. I told Sam I was handing it over to you. He may give you a call.”

  Howie held on to the film as if it were a precious diamond. “This is absolutely great, Allison. You must feel rather proud of yourself.”

  “I hoped it would make the last newspaper of the year a paper to remember. And I’m sure I’ll never find a story half this exciting again. In fact, I don’t even want to. It’s not something I’d care to repeat.”

  “So what happened to Shirley, then?” Howie looked from Allison to Andrew with mild curiosity. “Did you leave her out there on the island?” he teased.

  “Actually, you’ve got the right story,” said Andrew. “Now you just switch characters.”

  Howie’s eyes widened. “You mean Shirley left Allison out there?”

  “Not only did she leave her,” declared Andrew, “but she didn’t even tell anyone until after nine o’clock at night.”

  Howie shook his head. “No kidding?”

  Allison was uncomfortable with them both staring at her as if she were worthy of great pity. “Well, at least I got a good story out of it,” she quipped lightly.

  “But don’t you just want to strangle her?” asked Howie.

  Allison shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still sort of mad, but I feel sorry for her.”

  “Sorry for her?” exclaimed Howie. “Whatever for?”

  Allison sighed. “I just think she must be awfully unhappy inside. . . .”

  “Or just mean,” said Howie. “Well, if this is going in the paper, I better get a move on.”

  “Oh, another thing,” said Allison.

  Howie looked up hopefully. “Yes?”

  “The Port View Herald is using the story, too. It will come out tomorrow just like our paper. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Thanks again, Allison. This is really swell!”

  As Andrew and Allison walked slowly through the nearly deserted hallways, she recapped the story that Dad had told her that morning about how the Coast Guard caught the crooks. He listened with genuine interest, asking good questions in appropriate places. Suddenly, it seemed as if nothing had ever come between them. Allison thought about all she’d been through recently—how during that time she had completely forgotten the heartache she had been suffering because of him. Now it all seemed so trivial and childish.

  “Andrew,” said Allison as they reached the door, “thanks for being such a good friend.”

  He smiled down on her. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Part of her wondered what that really meant, but the rest of her said to just let it go and simply enjoy the friendship. That was the best part of their relationship anyway. Why spoil it?

  It was foggy and gray out, but Allison’s heart felt light. She spotted Heather already waiting by the jalopy. Allison ran up and gave Heather a big hug.

  “I’ve missed you,” cried Allison.

  Heather smiled. “That’s nice, but it’s only been a day.”

  “But it was a very long day,” said Allison, then she laughed. “Didn’t Andrew tell you what happened?”

  A look of realization crossed Heather’s face. “Oh, you mean about the Christmas dance—”

  “No
,” interrupted Andrew. “I didn’t tell anyone yet, Allison. Remember what the Coast Guard captain said?”

  “Coast Guard?” repeated Heather.

  “Christmas dance?” questioned Allison.

  “Would someone please tell me what we are all talking about?”

  Heather looked thoroughly confused, and Allison knew how she felt. She wondered if Heather knew something about Andrew and the Christmas dance. Perhaps that he had invited Beverly. Well, it didn’t matter. The important thing was that she and Andrew were friends once again.

  “Let me explain,” began Allison, and she launched into the colorful drama of all that had happened yesterday, and then how the thieves were caught just this morning, and finally about how her news story would be in both papers tomorrow. She paused to catch her breath.

  “I had no idea you were in such danger,” said Heather. “Andrew was very clandestine about the whole thing last night. In fact, I thought he’d gone over to talk to your dad about the dance—”

  “It’s starting to drizzle, Heather,” interrupted Andrew as he opened the passenger’s door. “How about if we finish Allison’s story on our way home.”

  “But, Allison,” continued Heather as Andrew began to drive. “How did you get stuck on the island without a boat?”

  “Oh, I guess I left out one little detail,” chuckled Allison.

  “A rather big detail, don’t you think?” said Andrew.

  “Actually, about a five-foot-five detail.”

  “What?” said Heather. “You two are driving me mad with suspense. Have you ever considered starting your own mystery hour on the radio?”

  Allison explained the role that Shirley had played in yesterday’s adventure episode.

  “Oh my,” said Heather. “I’m so sorry, Allison.”

  “You’re sorry. Whatever for?”

  “I’m always telling you not to be so suspicious of Shirley—that she really isn’t all that bad.”

  Allison laughed. “Oh, that’s okay. I know that you like to think of people in a positive way, Heather. I like that. And most of the time you’re right.”

  “But not about Shirley,” said Heather glumly.