SummerHill Secrets, Volume 2

by Beverly Lewis

  “You know my cats pretty well,” I said but didn’t want to continue this line of conversation. “So…” I paused. “Why’d you really call?”

  “Just checking up on my little Merry” came the saucy reply.

  “Aw, how sweet,” I said sarcastically.

  “Seriously,” he said, “how’s school? Sophomore year still treating you okay?”

  “Sure, what’s left of it. The school year’s nearly over, remember?”

  “Yes, well…I hear that you and our nosy neighbor are planning an extended sleepover. That should be interesting.”

  I had to laugh. Skip was so clever with words, and I honestly missed having him around. “If you promise to keep something quiet, I’ll tell you a secret.”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding.” He laughed. “This is definitely a first.”

  “Hush. If you keep it up, I won’t tell you a thing.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  I took a deep breath. “Okay…here goes. I’m hoping to solve a mystery while I’m over at Old Hawk Eyes’ place.”

  He was snorting now. “Let me guess. You’re going to check out her high-powered telescope, right?”

  “Count on me.”

  “My sister, the super sleuth,” he teased.

  “I’m approaching adulthood, I’ll have you know. In case you forgot, I’m going to be sixteen and a half in three days…April twenty-second.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Nobody celebrates midyear birthdays.”

  “Well, I do.”

  “Figures.”

  I ignored his flippant response. We talked a few more minutes before he asked to speak to Mom. “I’ll see you next Thursday afternoon,” he added.

  “Remember, now—what you promised?” I reminded him of our secret.

  “Won’t breathe a word,” he replied. “But I’ll want a full report of your findings the minute I get home.”

  “Deal.”

  “ ’Bye, little girl,” he said.

  If Mom hadn’t suddenly come into the hall, I probably would’ve chewed him out for yet another “little girl” comment. Enough was enough.

  Still, I couldn’t wait for Skip to come home. Especially now that he showed signs of wanting to be a true confidant, someone trustworthy to share in the results of my Spindler visit.

  I handed the phone to Mom and headed back to my room and to my three remaining cats. Settling down on my bed, I thought of my brother’s return home. Actually, I could hardly wait to see him again. Mainly because it seemed like such a long time since Christmas break—almost four months!

  But Skip wasn’t the only one coming home. Levi Zook—Rachel’s brother—was, too. Truth was, I’d tried not to think of Levi’s return. He liked me. Maybe too much.

  Scooting off the bed, I went to my desk to think through my plan to locate my cat—the project I’d started before Dad knocked on my door. It would never do to sit around and wonder about Levi, anyway. He’d be here soon enough.

  As for Jonathan Klein, the sometime object of my affections, he and I weren’t exactly on the best terms lately, which was one-hundred-percent fine with me.

  I picked up my pencil and made several attempts to create a lost-cat poster. But I was stuck for creative ideas—all because thoughts of Levi Zook had crowded into my brain.

  Chapter

  5

  “Abednego’s missing,” I told my girl friends after church the next day.

  “Again?” Chelsea Davis asked, frowning. “Does he ever stay home?”

  She would say that. After all, Abednego was known for disappearing off and on.

  I sighed. “Actually, he got scared yesterday during that horrible storm.”

  “Oh, I remember,” said Ashley Horton, our pastor’s daughter, wide-eyed and obviously worried.

  Lissa Vyner blinked her sad blue eyes at me. “Can we help?” she asked softly.

  I nodded. “Maybe. I sorta thought of a plan.”

  “Like what?” asked Ashley.

  “Well, it didn’t turn out to be much, really,” I said.

  “C’mon, Mer, tell us. We’re your closest friends,” Chelsea insisted.

  So I told them. I described how I’d sat at my desk last night till close to midnight, halfway waiting for Abednego to wander home a drenched and frightened ball of fur, and halfway trying to make clever and eye-catching flyers to distribute around SummerHill.

  “Your poster idea is positively terrific,” Ashley said, her eyes smiling. Gushing was her trademark, and over time I’d learned to put up with it.

  “So…tell us about your flyers,” Chelsea said, twisting her auburn hair around her finger.

  Lissa was silent, waiting with eyes fixed on me.

  “Promise not to laugh,” I said. “Honestly, I tried the alliteration thing, you know, for a catchy phrase or two, but I wasn’t very successful. Abednego starts with A, and that’s a hard letter to work with.”

  “No kidding,” said Ashley.

  “What about the Alliteration Wizard?” Chelsea inquired, mentioning the very person who’d first challenged me to talk in alliteration-eze, back when it was our private game. “Have you talked to Jon?”

  “Forget him,” I spouted, glancing around to make sure Jon wasn’t within earshot.

  Chelsea’s deep green eyes tunneled through me. “I can’t believe you still feel that way. After everything you two have been through together.”

  I turned to go. “Not now, Chelsea.”

  It was Lissa who followed me out the church doors and down the steps. The day was breezy and bright, with the promise of everlasting clear skies. A perfect day to walk home from church. And if I’d spotted my parents right at that moment to let them know, I would’ve set out for SummerHill Lane on foot.

  “Merry, please don’t be upset,” Lissa said, hurrying to keep up. “Chelsea didn’t mean it. Not really.”

  I whirled around. “Of course she meant it! You were there—you heard what she said.”

  “No…no, I think you misunderstood” came the reply.

  Shaking my head, I studied my wispy friend. Her wavy blond hair drifted softly around her shoulders, but it was the set of her lips that convinced me of her concern.

  “Oh,” I groaned. “This is truly horrible.”

  “It’ll be okay,” she said sympathetically. “You’ll see.”

  But I felt dreadful. “Why do I have to get so freaked out over a boy?”

  Lissa looked up from below her long lashes. “Maybe it’s because you still like him. Way down deep in your heart.”

  I couldn’t bear to hear it, especially from her. After all, late last spring Lissa had fallen hard for Jon. And at the time, I’d considered him all mine. But now I wasn’t one bit interested. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

  “Can we not talk about this here?” I snapped.

  “Fine with me,” she said softly.

  I knew I’d offended her. “Look, why don’t you come over this afternoon. We’ll talk then.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you after lunch,” she said, turning to go.

  Almost instantly, Ashley and Chelsea were on either side of me. “We’ll come help you make flyers,” Chelsea volunteered.

  “Okay with you?” Ashley asked.

  I shrugged. “Sure, come on over.”

  “All right! Another alliteration affair,” Chelsea announced.

  I couldn’t believe how good she was getting. “Wow, you’ve really caught on,” I said.

  “Amazingly well,” Ashley said.

  “So…watch out, Jon!” Chelsea said with thumbs up. “I’m ready to take you on.”

  Ashley grinned. “Hey, that rhymed.”

  “Shh! There he is,” I whispered, pointing to a group of guys spilling into the courtyard.

  Chelsea’s face dropped. “I hope he didn’t hear me.”

  “Let’s not take any chances,” I said.

  “Meaning?” said Chelsea.

  “I
think we’d better split,” I suggested, waving to the girls. “Call me about this afternoon.”

  They glanced over their shoulders at Jon and then grinned back at me.

  Yee-ikes! I rushed to the parking lot. My parents were waiting in the car, windows down.

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “Got tied up talking.”

  “No problem,” Dad said with a smile and started the car.

  As he drove home, I leaned back against the seat, gazing at the cloudless sky and replaying the weird exchange between Chelsea and me.

  After all these months, I still hadn’t figured things out. Why did I have to get so mixed-up just talking about Jon Klein? Especially when I couldn’t care less.

  Chapter

  6

  Not only did we make flyers, my girl friends and I, we tromped all over the SummerHill area that Sunday afternoon, searching the bushes and asking neighbors if they’d seen Abednego.

  Chelsea came up with the catchiest wording for our flyers. Missing: a fussy, fat black feline—an amazing animal named Abednego, it read. Please contact Merry Hanson (owner), corner of Strawberry and SummerHill Lanes.

  The flyer was far better than anything I could’ve come up with—probably because my brain wasn’t functioning up to par. I was too caught up in the loss of my beloved pet. Sadly, the chances of finding him seemed more dismal with every passing hour.

  I’d even cried myself to sleep the night of Dad’s retirement party, wishing the storm had never happened. Wishing something else, too—that Abednego wasn’t such an exasperating pet, forever running off. Anguished, I’d stared hard at the long wall near my bed, unable in the dark to make out the mini gallery of my own framed photography. Several pictures featured Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—my very first, and oldest, cats. Lily White had come into my life one year ago this month, so she was still the baby of the bunch.

  “Where’s your head, Merry?” called Ashley from across SummerHill Lane.

  I snapped back to attention. “Uh, sorry, guess I was just daydreaming…about Abednego.”

  Unknowingly, I’d stopped at a quaint little springhouse off the side of the road. It was the most serene place, almost like a playhouse made of old hand-hewn stone. Delicate willows draped their branches low, creating a leafy green-fringed frame. The ideal setting for a country picture.

  Ashley came running, followed by Chelsea and Lissa. “We have another idea,” she said.

  I was ready for a new approach…anything! We’d knocked on every neighbor’s door within a one-mile radius. No one had seen Abednego. Not a single soul.

  Ashley’s hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and her face shone with this most recent brainstorm. “Your neighbor is Old Hawk Eyes, right?”

  “What about her?” I asked.

  She paused, as if rethinking what she was about to say. Chelsea and Lissa hung on, waiting for Ashley’s idea. “So…spill it out,” Chelsea said.

  Ashley took a dramatic deep breath. “Have you ever come right out and asked Miss Spindler how she keeps track of everyone?”

  “Well, no,” I answered. “She’s a very private person. Seems a bit nosy, if you know what I mean…but…why do you ask?”

  We all looked at Ashley, waiting for her response.

  Ashley raised one eyebrow in a questioning slant. “Well, I just thought the old lady might be able to find out where your cat is, that’s all.”

  Chelsea chuckled. “Yeah, she does seem to know the most intimate details about nearly everyone around here.”

  I nodded. “You can say that again.”

  “So what do you think?” Ashley said, eyes eager. “Why don’t you ask her how she keeps tabs on things?”

  I gave her a sideways glance. “Well, I’ve thought of doing that but never followed through.”

  “Why not?” asked Chelsea.

  “Because it’s like asking her to let me in on a big secret.” I sighed, frustrated. “How does she spy on all of us?”

  All three girls shrugged—nobody knew for sure. Quiet now, we began to walk back up SummerHill Lane. The sky was filling up with fluffy white cloud balls, reminding me of cats. Lots of beautiful alabaster cats.

  Ashley got the Miss Spindler question rolling again. “You did ask her to keep an eye out for Abednego, right?”

  “I sure did. In fact, Old Hawk Eyes’ home was the first place I went during the storm.”

  That seemed to satisfy her, and we set out for my house. On the way, I glanced at my watch. “If we hurry, there might still be a few chocolate chip cookies left,” I said. “My mom made a big batch yesterday after Dad’s retirement party.”

  The prospect of homemade cookies made us pick up our pace, and we scurried past one Amish farm after another. Today was an off Sunday for the SummerHill Old Order church district, so lots of Plain folk were out visiting relatives and friends—the reason for the many buggies clattering up and down the road.

  “Do you ever get tired of meeting up with the Amish?” asked Lissa.

  “On the road, you mean?” I studied her, trying to figure out what she was really asking.

  “Well, you know.” She was clamming up on me.

  “No, I don’t,” I replied. “Spell it out.”

  She shook her head, recoiling like she’d been hit.

  “Look, Lissa. I can’t read your mind. How can I know what you’re thinking if you don’t explain?” I asked gently. She’d suffered years of abuse at the hands of her father, and although he was taking therapy seriously and steadily improving, she still showed the emotional scars of a girl who’d been through the mill, so to speak.

  She shook her head. “It’s not important,” she insisted.

  “Yes, it is if you said it,” Chelsea spoke up.

  Ashley was nodding her head, encouraging Lissa to continue.

  It looked as if we’d have to drag the question out of her. Finally, after repeated pleas, she told us what she’d meant to say all along. “I’m curious about Levi Zook—his coming home for college break and all,” she said.

  I bristled at the comment. “If you’re asking how I feel about him, I’m cool with our relationship,” I confessed. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  Chelsea ran her fingers through her hair. “But isn’t Levi, like, in love with you or something?” As soon as she realized what she’d let slip, Chelsea covered her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh…I’m sorry, Mer, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  I laughed it off. Had to. If I made too big a deal of it, she—all of them—would get the wrong idea. So I simply said, “Levi’s a dear.”

  “And what about Jon? He’s a dear, too, right?” Ashley piped up.

  That got Lissa and Chelsea laughing. I joined in, hoping none of them would notice my cheeks growing warmer by the second. Truth was, I liked both boys, in spite of the pain Jon had put me through in the past. But as far as I was concerned, there was no rush to choose either one.

  “Does Rachel Zook ever talk about Jon to you?” Chelsea asked, which surprised me to no end.

  “Never,” I said. “After all, she’s got a beau.”

  “Is a beau what I think it is?” asked Chelsea.

  “Yep, and his name’s Matthew Yoder. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ends up marrying him in a year or two.”

  The girls fell silent, and for the first time since we left the house, I heard birds singing.

  “Rachel’s pretty young to be thinking about settling down with a husband, but that’s the way Amish do things. The younger you’re married, the more children you’ll be able to have,” I explained.

  “So…if you married Levi, would you have a whole houseful of kids, like the Amish?” Lissa asked.

  I felt my cheeks blushing. “Do we have to discuss this?”

  “C’mon, Merry,” Ashley spoke up. “Don’t avoid the question. You know you’re fond of Levi.”

  Fond? Where’d she ever get that idea? I wondered.

  “Well, I can see this conversation is way out of hand,�
� I told my friends. “Let’s talk about someone else’s romantic interests for a change.”

  Ashley’s eyes darted away from my gaze, and Chelsea flung her long, thick hair to one side without saying a word. Lissa, on the other hand, just pursed her lips, trying not to smile.

  Glancing down the road, I noticed Abe and Esther Zook pulling out of their dirt lane, the boxlike gray carriage filled with children. Rachel was along, too.

  “Look, there’s your future mode of transportation,” Lissa informed me with a stifled snicker. “If you marry an Amishman, that is.”

  It was high time to set them straight, once and for all. “Levi is no longer Amish,” I said. “In fact, he never took the baptismal vow to join his parents’ church. He’s Mennonite now, studying to be a preacher at Bible school.”

  “Oh” was all Lissa said.

  “Case closed,” I said, waving to the Zooks as their horse and buggy approached us.

  Ashley ignored my comment. “What’s Jon Klein want to be?”

  “You mean when he grows up?” added Lissa.

  I shook my head in playful disgust. “You three are every bit as mischievous as my wayward cat.”

  Chelsea clutched her throat. “Oh, tell me it isn’t so!”

  We burst into giggles and ran to my house.

  Chapter

  7

  At first I thought it was my lost cat jumping onto my bed, but then my bedroom burst to life with the early morning rays of the sun. Another too-real dream. One of many.

  Mom called for me to “rise and shine” from her end of the hall. “Day’s a-wasting,” she added.

  “I’m getting up!” Sliding out from under the lightweight blanket, I let my legs dangle off the side of the bed.

  Shadrach, Meshach, and Lily White remained asleep, all three of them curled up tight against the dawn.

  “Maybe today’s the day Abednego comes home,” I said, hoping it would be true.

  Meow. Shadrach was all ears. And Meshach and Lily White leaped off the bed, stretched, and padded into the walk-in closet with me.

  “You’re truly lonely for Abednego, aren’t you?” I whispered to my cat trio. “Well, I’m not giving up, so don’t you worry your furry heads, okay?”