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SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1

Page 17

by Beverly Lewis


  A light tapping came at the door. I expected to see Skip, or maybe Elton’s grandma, but it was a nurse leading two policemen into the room.

  What are they doing here? I thought.

  “You’ll have to excuse us,” one of the cops said. “We have a few questions to ask Mister Elton Keel.” I didn’t like the way he leaned on the word “mister.”

  Worried, but not protesting, I said good-bye to Elton, and the nurse escorted me out of the room. “Be sure and tell them he can’t talk,” I pleaded with the nurse. “Please?”

  She smiled, assuring me that she would.

  In a few minutes, Skip showed up sporting a sub sandwich. I begged him to stand outside Elton’s room and listen in on the conversation with the cops.

  “What for?” He bit into his sandwich.

  “Please, just do it?” Miraculously, he went without an argument.

  In a few minutes, Skip returned looking totally surprised. He sat down in the gray vinyl chair next to my bed.

  “What did you hear?” I propped myself up with two pillows.

  “You don’t wanna know.”

  I gasped. “What are you saying?”

  He leaned forward, resting his arms on his legs, studying me. “This might upset you, Mer.”

  “What? I can handle it. Just tell me.”

  He took a deep breath. “The cops think Elton had something to do with the barn fire.”

  “How can they say that?”

  Skip stared at his feet. “Two of the cops remembered Elton from the fire at your school.”

  “Elton’s not a firebug!” I swung my feet over the side of the bed, as though scooting to that position would make what I had to say more powerful. “You have to make them understand, Skip. You have to!”

  Skip stood up. “I barely know this Elton person.”

  “He’s not ‘this Elton person,’ ” I shot back. “You sound like you hate him or something.”

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Mer. I think you better get ready to check out of the hospital. Dad and Mom’ll be here any second.” He looked at his wristwatch.

  “That’s just great! Change the subject, why don’t you.”

  Skip turned and left the room in a huff.

  I muttered to myself. “Dad’s a doctor; maybe he can talk sense to those crazy cops.”

  Suddenly, Skip poked his head back into my room. “You’re not thinking clearly, Mer. The police have no other suspects, and they do have reason to think that Elton was involved…so why shouldn’t they question him?”

  “How on earth do they expect to get answers out of him when he doesn’t talk?” The whole thing was so ridiculous.

  Skip tossed his sandwich wrapper in the trash.

  “Hey, what about Ben Fisher?” I asked. “Where was he when the Zooks’ barn burned?”

  “I don’t think you can pin this on Ben. Besides, no one saw him anywhere near the Zooks’ place yesterday. But Elton Keel, well…he was right there.”

  I fought back the tears. “Elton wouldn’t go to all the trouble to start a fire and then rescue me from it,” I said. “He’s not totally ignorant, like you think.”

  “C’mon, Merry. That’s not fair.” And with that, Skip left the room for good.

  If the nurse hadn’t come in, I might’ve cut loose and bawled. She changed the dressings on my arms, reapplying the soothing cream to my burns. “You’ll want to keep these areas as dry as possible for several days,” she said. “Be sure to put this cream on and change the dressings daily.”

  “Thanks,” I said, but my mind was on Skip’s words. The police have no other suspects.

  I gathered up my things, waiting for the doctor to check me out. Actually, I was too sick to go anywhere, and it wasn’t from the lousy arm burns. How could the police go and charge Elton with something he hadn’t done? Had they forgotten what he had done?

  How many people would risk their lives—charge into a burning barn—to save another human being?

  Elton was innocent. One hundred and ten percent, amen. And I was going to clear his name!

  Chapter

  16

  That afternoon, instead of going home with Grandma Winnie, Elton was hauled off to Maple Springs, a juvenile detention center. He would stay there until his hearing came up in a few days.

  “The Zooks haven’t pressed charges,” Dad explained at supper.

  “Then why’s Elton in jail?” I wailed.

  “It’s not jail,” Dad said. “Not even close.”

  “I’m sure it feels like it,” I muttered. “He doesn’t belong there.” Visions of Elton sitting high in the old oak tree near Hunsecker’s Mill Bridge haunted me. He needed to be outdoors, in touch with nature, not in some dark holding place for delinquents.

  “The district attorney pressed charges, Merry,” Mom said, offering me some more noodles. “Arson is very serious business.”

  “But Elton didn’t do it!”

  Dad cut into his meatloaf, taking a bite and swallowing before he spoke again. “Remember the fire at your school, Merry? You told me yourself why Elton started it.”

  “He was just mad…uh, hurt, really.”

  “And why was that?”

  “Because I rejected his picture. But this isn’t like that. Elton’s not a firebug!”

  Dad looked over at Mom and back at me. “Elton set fire to his picture of you, only to retrieve it before it burned.” He took a deep breath. “I think there may be a parallel here, honey.”

  “You can’t possibly believe that he torched the barn so he could save me.” It made no sense.

  Dad was silent.

  “C’mon, Dad, can’t you at least talk to the police about his good side? I mean, what about the fact that he saved my life? Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  “I’m very certain the police are aware of that,” he said in his most professional voice. “I think we should take a few steps back from this thing emotionally”—and here he stared at me hard—“and let the legal system do its work.”

  I stared at the kitchen wallpaper, tracing the strawberry vines with my eyes. Dad was beginning to sound like a shrink or something. Whose side was he on, anyway?

  After supper, I fed my cats. Four of them. Lily White seemed to fit right in with the three Hebrew children. Abednego was the only one who’d exhibited the least bit of jealousy. Shadrach and Meshach actually seemed to like her.

  Lily White’s singed fur conjured up thoughts of Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace in the book of Daniel. The white color of her coat reminded me of the angel of the Lord who had walked with the three boys in the king’s furnace. I smiled as I watched Lily White eat her tuna delight. An angel must’ve been with Elton and me during the barn fire. Only we didn’t get to see it like King Nebuchadnezzar had. Maybe it was just as well.

  I went to my room and threw myself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Mom and Dad didn’t understand, and it was truly horrible. The very people who you’d think would help at a time like this… and all they could do was talk about the legal system.

  Several hours later, Mom knocked on my door, asking to come in. I wasn’t in the mood for company, so she left me alone, which is exactly what I needed.

  I rolled over and turned the radio on. Sometimes music helped when I was like this. That, and talking to God. But today I was too angry to pray. Pulling the pillows out from under my head, I went over the events of the week, thinking through the days since last Thursday when I’d accidentally taken Elton’s picture at school.

  Tons of things had happened in five days. That thing with Cody Gower in art. The lunchroom scene. Elton’s suspension from school. The Zooks’ fire. And now this.

  I stared at the wall where my finest photography hung on display. Not a single picture was of a person. I didn’t take shots of people. Places and things had always interested me more.

  The moment in the hall last Thursday had come as a big surprise for Elton. I could still see his arms going up over his face, cowering aw
ay from the flash. But the encounter with Elton—bumping into his life the way I had—that had come as a bigger surprise to me.

  It seemed strange to think that there was actually a picture of a human being on my digital camera, waiting to be printed. I smiled thinking about it. Most definitely a first. Maybe, by God’s providence, it hadn’t been an accident after all.

  I sat up, looking at my arms. How much more might’ve they been burned—or worse—if Elton hadn’t come when he did? It made me wonder where his picture fit in my gallery of photos. In my gallery of life…

  It was late when I asked Mom to help me change the dressings on my arms. I didn’t really need her help, but she probably needed to know I wanted it.

  I didn’t go to school on Wednesday. Mom wanted me to stay home. And it was a good thing, too. The extra day would give me plenty of time to go and visit Miss Spindler—Old Hawk Eyes. She made it her duty to keep close tabs on things in the neighborhood. People thought she had a high-powered telescope or something. How else did she know about everything and everyone?

  Miss Spindler was still wearing a terrycloth bathrobe and slippers when she answered the door. “Well, my dear, how’s every little thing?” She eyed the bandages on my arms.

  “Well, you probably know about the Zooks’ fire,” I said, “and how I got out alive. So I won’t bore you with all that.”

  “Oh my, dearie, ’tis not a bore.” She cackled as if she couldn’t wait to hear my version.

  I began to tell her about Elton and how he’d risked his life for mine. Pausing, I took a deep breath before asking the question burning inside me. “Miss Spindler, is there any chance you saw someone prowling around on Zooks’ farm Monday afternoon… around three?”

  She cocked her head. “Uh, what time did you say?”

  “Three o’clock,” I repeated.

  A smile burst across her wrinkled face. “Well, my dear, I must tell you that between three and four each and every weekday, the world comes to a screechin’ halt.”

  I had no idea what she was referring to. “Why’s that?” I asked.

  She pointed a long, bony finger at her television. “That’s the reason I didn’t see nobody on Zooks’ farm, dearie.”

  “Oh, you have a favorite show or something?”

  “You heard right.”

  I stood up to go, disappointed by this lack of news. “It’s just too bad about Elton,” I said under my breath.

  She leaped up suddenly. “Now, what is this wide world coming to!” she exclaimed, nearly scaring me to death. “Oddballs like that Elton fella oughta be put away for good.”

  “Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

  “That’s right,” she said, waving her hands through the air. “I’ve heard about people like him. You just can’t be too careful.”

  “He saved my life!”

  “That’s all well and good, but the thing is, the boy’s trouble. Powerful big trouble.” She sighed. “Why else would the police go and lock him up?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss Spindler, but I have to go now.” I marched straight to the front door, and just like that, I left. People like Old Hawk Eyes should have to spend one hour with someone as sensitive and kind as Elton Keel. Then they’d know exactly what this wide world is coming to!

  On the way back to my house, I noticed a bunch of buggies parked at the Zooks’. Amish friends and neighbors were clearing away debris from the barn fire. Tomorrow, the foundation would be laid for a new one. That’s the way it was with the Amish. Instead of buying insurance, everyone worked together to rebuild. In the Plain community, that’s all the insurance they needed.

  After lunch, the mail came. There was a card for me from Jonathan Klein. He’d written the verse himself.

  Get well, won’tcha? Mistress Merry of mirth must make

  monumental effort to match wits with the Word Wizard.

  Can’t compete without clever company, comprende?

  Just Jon

  I smiled and read it again. The Alliteration Wizard had come through with a cool get-well card, and Spring Spree or not, I couldn’t imagine him sharing our private game with anyone else. Especially not Ashley Horton!

  Later that afternoon, Mom announced that she had a few errands to run. “Need anything, Mer?”

  “Will you pick out a Bible for Elton at the Christian bookstore?” I asked.

  Mom agreed, and I ran upstairs to get some money.

  “Now, be sure to rest while the house is quiet.” She blew a kiss as she left.

  A nap would feel good. But before lying down, I got the brilliant idea to call Lissa’s father. Since he was one of the cops at the school the day of the trash-can fire, and because I was a friend of his daughter, maybe I could get him to see the light about Elton.

  Lily White followed me into Dad’s study. She was fast becoming my shadow. After dialing the police department, I waited for the dispatcher to connect me with Officer Vyner. Several recordings later, he came on the line.

  “Hello, this is Merry Hanson, Lissa’s friend.”

  “Yes, Merry, how can I help?”

  I explained the reasoning behind my view that Elton was innocent. “He should be set free,” I insisted. “He didn’t start the fire.”

  “I understand how you must feel,” Lissa’s father said, “but Elton is a very unstable person. He is autistic.”

  There was that word again. Autistic. Skip had used it offhand to describe Elton last week.

  “But that doesn’t mean he’s destructive,” I said. “Elton is a very sensitive person. I wish you could get to know him.”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen a side of Elton that the police force hasn’t,” he said kindly, “but unless you can provide something more substantial than your feelings, I’m afraid Elton will have to be tried for arson.”

  “What about Ben Fisher? He’s been causing all sorts of trouble at the Zooks’. Have you talked to him?” I felt bad about breaking my promise to Rachel, but I had to help Elton now.

  “We’ve heard some stories flying around, but nothing we can confirm, Merry. You know the Amish won’t implicate one of their own.” I heard his beeper going off like crazy in the background. “Substantial evidence is what we need.”

  “Thanks for your time, sir,” I said, and hung up.

  I needed proof to clear Elton—something to get him off the hook. It sounded so easy. Maybe a bike ride past Ben Fisher’s place was the answer. Maybe I’d even get brave and talk to Ben myself.

  Chapter

  17

  The bike ride turned up absolutely nothing. I even went up to the Fishers’ farmhouse and asked Ben’s mother if I could talk to him.

  Anything to get Elton off.

  It turned out that Ben was in Ohio, visiting some Mennonite relatives. I didn’t think to ask her how long he’d been gone. I was too depressed to think straight.

  Finally, I went to my room to rest like Mom wanted. But I never fell asleep. My mind raced ninety miles an hour. The idea that Ben might’ve been in Ohio on Monday troubled me. Where did that leave Elton?

  Lying on my bed, I played with the straps on my camera case. Soon, my cats joined me. They snuggled in as waves of depression poured over me. At long last, I was ready to pray. Sobbing, I told all my fears and concerns to God, asking for His help.

  Later, when Mom got home, she came right up to my room. Her hair was windblown, smelling fresh like spring. She ran her fingers through the top of it before opening her shopping bag. She reached inside and pulled out a black leather Bible.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, stroking the binding.

  “When do you plan to give this to Elton?” she asked, looking quite pleased.

  “Tomorrow, I think.” I wondered if Elton’s grandma might agree to meet me at the detention center. “Thanks for getting it, Mom.”

  She smiled, adjusting the collar on her light blue shirtwaist dress. “It’s a wonderful gift, Merry,” she commented. “I’m glad you’re so willing to give to ot
hers. And if you need to borrow money for Spring Spree, just ask your father.”

  “Oh, that,” I groaned as she walked toward the door. I wanted to forget about Spring Spree.

  “What, honey?” She turned around.

  “Nothing.”

  Nothing was right.

  Mom came over and sat on my bed. Lily White sniffed her hand, checking her out. “Hey, Miss Lily, I’ve been around here much longer than you have!” Mom said, grinning.

  We laughed together. And the lighthearted moment brought welcome relief to the tension of my crazy, mixed-up life.

  That evening, Rachel’s sisters came pulling her in a red wagon. She smiled at me from her padded perch, lined with a bright-colored quilt. The girls giggled, their eyes bright and cheeks rosy as they called to me. “Hello, Merry! Are you better?”

  I held out my bandaged arms for Nancy, Ella Mae, and little Susie as they gathered close to see. “It still hurts a bit, but not too much,” I said.

  Nancy and Ella Mae held up Rachel’s bandaged foot. I leaned over to inspect it. “Can you put weight on it yet?”

  Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “Some.”

  I stood up, noticing several gray buggies parked in the Zooks’ lane. “Got company?”

  Rachel turned to look. “Jah. Jacob Esh and his boys are over deciding things about the new barn with Dat. Jacob is the master carpenter.” She turned to look at me. “You hafta come to the barn raising. It’s Friday, you know.”

  “I don’t know if I should miss school for it, but I’ll ask.”

  Little Susie jumped up and down. “You hafta, Merry. It’s so-o much fun!”

  Nancy nodded. “Ach, there’s more food than you’ve ever seen.”

  “Like what?” I asked, responding to the eager looks on the girls’ faces.

  “Like fried ham and gravy, and English walnut pie, that’s what!” said Ella Mae.

 

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