Grim Hill: The Secret Deepens

by Linda DeMeulemeester

  “Because there is another explanation for black magic,” whispered Jasper.

  The hair on my arms started prickling when I asked, “What’s the explanation?”

  “Black magic has been linked to fairies.”

  I didn’t want to even think about that, but just in case, I said, “Maybe it’s time we paid a visit to Alice and Lucinda Greystone.”

  “Is now okay?” Jasper wasn’t wasting any time.

  “Mom,” I called out. “Jasper and I will be back soon.”

  “Dinner is in an hour,” she yelled from the kitchen.

  Outside the temperature had taken a serious plunge, and our breath came out in icy puffs as we rushed to the Greystone sisters’ house. Alice Greystone had spent all her years longing for a sister she could never remember. Poor Lucinda missed out on a whole life. But because of their encounters with wicked fairies, they were likely to know if there was trouble brewing again on Grim Hill.

  We turned down their street, spotted their old-fashioned house, climbed the stairs, and banged the brass lion’s head door knocker.

  “Look at all the junk mail on the porch,” said Jasper. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

  Standing outside and shivering in the cold, it suddenly seemed stupid to be running around looking for explanations about black magic.

  “Jasper, I’m going home,” I complained. “It seems to me that if you start looking for something, you’ll see it everywhere. If we start thinking fairies are at the bottom of every weird event, next thing you know we’ll think they’re the cause of everything. Soon we’ll be saying they are responsible for this strange weather.”

  “Exactly!” shouted Jasper as I began walking home.

  When I got to my house, I walked into the middle of a catastrophe.

  “Buddy’s sick! Something’s wrong with Buddy!” Sookie shrieked as tears spilled from her eyes. She was holding her hamster ever so gently in her hands. Buddy lay still, eyes closed, and not even his little nose twitched.

  “Maybe he’s dizzy and is feeling a little sick from the magic trick – you did spin him around in that turban,” I suggested, rather helpfully, in my mind.

  “I doubt it.” Sookie’s voice was thick with worry. “Buddy spins himself silly in his wheel all day. He likes it. Maybe he’s getting a cold. We have to take him to the vet,” Sookie said as Mom hovered over her shoulder.

  Mom got a look on her face – like when she has to dispose of a poor dead bird or mouse we occasionally find in the backyard. That look meant she didn’t like what she had to do one bit, but nevertheless she braced herself.

  She crouched next to Sookie and said, “Sweetheart, vets are very expensive – sometimes hundreds of dollars. And a little hamster is – ”

  “A member of our family,” wailed Sookie.

  I edged up next to my sister and tentatively brushed the tip of my finger over Buddy. “His fur feels silky, and soft, not stiff … and he’s warm.” I knew from my own hamster experiences that those were good signs.

  Sookie looked up at Mom with glistening eyes. “Please do something.”

  “First,” said Mom in an adult’s reassuring voice that probably fooled Sookie, “let’s make Buddy very comfortable. Get his cage, and I’ll put some nice soft shredded tissue in the bottom for a comfy bed.”

  Sookie scurried off. Moments later she came back with Buddy’s cage and helped me and Mom shred a fresh nest for the hamster. Then we tucked Buddy in, and Sookie hugged the cage as she placed it next to the kitchen radiator where he’d be nice and warm. Mom placed a tea towel over the cage.

  “We could call Amarjeet’s mom,” I suggested. “I think she’s a vet assistant.”

  Mom got on the phone while Sookie and I sat down to dinner. Let’s just say no one seemed very hungry, even though it was veggie burgers and oven fries. We were waiting for Mrs. Singh to drop by. When she arrived, she examined Buddy under Sookie’s watchful eye.

  “Well, he really does just seem to be sleeping,” she pronounced. “But it is a concern that I can’t rouse him.”

  Sookie paled.

  “However,” said Mrs. Singh, patting Sookie’s arm, “his vital signs seem good. His breathing and heartbeat are steady.” Then more tenderly she said, “I’m afraid there isn’t much more to do for such a little fellow than to watch and wait.”

  Watch and wait was all Sookie did. It was hard to see Sookie hover over Buddy’s cage in such a worried state. Buddy’s wheel stayed still and silent while the hamster lay sleeping.

  Sookie never left his side, not even when the cold snap broke Saturday, much to the relief of everyone in the town. Sookie refused to go out and play – not even on Saturday afternoon when the sun was out and the temperatures turned balmy for the early days of December. Although I was worried about Buddy as well, I also had other things on my mind.

  Saturday after soccer practice, I sweated in my winter jacket, and the defrosting ground sucked at my boots, almost pulling my left boot off completely. Hamster worries aside, I couldn’t help but babble with Emily about the soccer match on Monday. We didn’t hang out together usually, but we were discussing soccer strategies. I told her about the boys playing too hard in the gym and how we could use their wild shots to our advantage.

  “I think you’re right, Cat. We have a good chance to win this match and go on to the intramurals, and it feels great playing soccer again.” Then Emily said, “But I’m thinking our team needs to make a change. Maybe you should be the captain of the team. You’re the one who cares the most about soccer. You’re the best player. Besides, I’m making a ton of money babysitting, and I don’t have time to go to every practice if we make the intramurals.”

  I tried to think of something to say – about how, no, Emily was skilled and extra-disciplined – but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth. I was too busy basking in the warm glow of her praise. Excitement swirled inside me like a magic elixir. At least I managed to keep a grin off my face. I wanted nothing more than to lead my team to victory on Monday.

  She stopped at my yard and frowned. “Hey, is your sister going to have another magic show again soon? Those two girls I babysit are always pestering me and driving me nuts.”

  I wanted to give her good news, especially after her generous offer of me becoming team captain, but Sookie was adamant. The Queen of Mystery was receiving no visitors while she mourned the sickness of her hamster.

  I explained to Emily about Buddy. “Besides not waking up, he’s not drinking or eating. But weirdly, he looks as though he’s only sleeping.”

  “You know,” Emily said thoughtfully, “maybe it has something to do with the freezing weather.”

  “Um, it’s not freezing now,” I pointed out.

  “I know,” Emily said with a touch of impatience, “but it was for a couple of weeks. And Buddy has … I dunno … hamster instincts. Maybe he decided it was time to hibernate.”

  Of course, that explained everything! I couldn’t wait to tell Sookie.

  I said bye to Emily and rushed home. I flew into the house and as usual, Sookie was in the kitchen. She hardly ever left Buddy’s cage. “Sookie!” I practically shouted as I told her Emily’s theory.

  “That’s got to be it!” Sookie eagerly agreed. “He’s just in a very deep sleep. And animals don’t eat anything when they hibernate, do they, Cat?”

  “Nope, they live off their fat. And Buddy has a lot of that,” I said.

  “And he probably does drink a couple of drops of water, only when we’re asleep and not watching him,” Sookie decided.

  I wasn’t sure, but I readily agreed. I was convinced Emily had stumbled on Buddy’s malady. “He’s just hibernating.”

  A smile of relief broke over Sookie’s face. “I’ll go put him back in my room so we don’t bother him with our voices,” she whispered.

  I felt quite grown up solving my sister’s crisis.

  That should have been a warning – sometimes a grownup misses things and it takes a kid t
o see past the usual logical explanations … at least that’s my excuse.

  CHAPTER 10 A Quick-Change Disaster

  MONDAY MORNING WHEN Sookie came downstairs, she was once again lugging around her turban and magic box.

  “I think I’ll call Skeeter so we can start practicing a new magic trick after school.”

  “Not today,” I reminded her. “Aren’t you coming with Mom to my big soccer game?”

  Sookie blushed. “I forgot,” she said as she smiled.

  “I don’t know how anyone could forget the match,” said Mom. “Cat’s done nothing but fret about it all weekend.”

  “Have not,” I said in surprise. I was feeling totally confident.

  “Oh,” said Sookie, “so we don’t hear you mumbling in your sleep about how you have to beat the ‘stupid boys’?”

  Now it was my turn to blush while they laughed. The sun streamed through the kitchen window, lighting up the blue curtains and making them as vivid as robin’s eggs. Mom stirred oatmeal and I made toast.

  It was as if we’d had beautiful weather all along. And Sookie’s new happy mood made it seem as if we hadn’t been living under the shadow of a family tragedy. She’d come to accept Buddy’s strange behavior. He still slept away, but he hadn’t become any worse. He really did seem to be hibernating.

  “Can we have eggs?” I asked. “I’ll need the protein for the game.”

  “One step ahead of you,” said Mom as she pointed to an egg in a pot of boiling water.

  After breakfast, I packed my soccer boots into my bag, but my fingers lingered over the Grimoire soccer uniform in my drawer. How dazzling that uniform was compared to the plain yellow and red striped shirt and boring white shorts I had to wear for Darkmont’s game. The green and black Grimoire uniform felt smooth to my touch, although it was as if my fingers ached to touch something else soft and silky. I couldn’t quite figure out what, so I shrugged my shoulders, balled up my soccer socks, threw them in the bag, and raced out of the house for school.

  “Wait up!” called Sookie who was quickly untangling the thick scarf around her neck. “It’s too hot for this,” she complained, stuffing the scarf through the mail slot.

  We hurried along, and after I dropped Sookie off at her school, I found myself arriving at Darkmont a bit early for once. No one was hanging out at the lockers, so I decided to go to the gym and drop off my gear in the girls’ changing room. A small group of kids had gathered in front of the gym door. Something about the scene made me freeze in my tracks. Amarjeet, who’d been part of the group, spotted me and rushed over. She looked worried.

  “They’ve moved the location of the soccer match,” she said breathlessly.

  “What?” I squeaked. “Where?” I don’t know why I said that – it wasn’t as if Darkmont had another gym or anything.

  “Outside on the soccer field, where do you think?” Amarjeet snapped. She was no more pleased than I was that the boys would have the bigger field to play on. That would be to their benefit because of their stamina, and they wouldn’t have to struggle holding back their shots. What was to their benefit worked against us.

  But I swallowed my worries and said as loud as I could manage, “No problem – we’re still going to win.” Amarjeet looked relieved, but then again, she couldn’t hear how hard my heart was pounding. And she couldn’t see Clive’s face behind her. He’d just read the sign on the door, and a self-satisfied grin spread over his entire face.

  I couldn’t concentrate in class all day. Trust Mr. Morrows to hit us with another pop quiz – how could he do this on the day of the match? And trust Clive to sit right beside me so when we had to pass our quizzes to the next student to correct, I was supposed to swap my quiz with him. However, when the time came, it was as if the test refused to leave my fingers.

  “Is there a problem, Caitlin?” Mr. Morrows asked.

  I hated when teachers used my real name. Come to think of it, even when Mom said “Caitlin,” it usually meant I was in trouble. Reluctantly, I passed the quiz to Clive.

  “Hmm,” Clive whispered. “Looks like you didn’t do so well here. Too bad the quiz isn’t about women scientists,” he said as he sneered.

  “Or magicians’ assistants,” I shot back. That was Clive’s Achilles’ heel. He hated that his little brother played second billing to my sister in their magic act. Clive had such an ego. Of course, maybe I shouldn’t have baited him. Now there weren’t going to be any mercy marks coming my way on the quiz.

  After several more torturous school hours, I finally sat in the dressing room and laced up my soccer boots. Then I joined my team and jogged onto the field and into the glorious sunshine. I would have given anything to trade the sunlight for the flickering fluorescent lights of Darkmont’s drab gray gym. Still, the outside air energized me and I was ready to play. For the next little while I had only one thing on my mind – wanting the ball more than anything else.

  Emily, Amarjeet, and I set up our play as Mia kicked a long shot. But when it was my turn to tap the ball back to Emily, Clive raced between us. I expected him to take off with the ball, but instead he kicked it to Jasper who scored a goal. I’d just been fooled – those two guys knew our setup. I acted as if I hadn’t caught on and decided to set up my own sucker trick. The next time Mia kicked the ball to Emily, and then she kicked it to me, when Clive got ready to scoop the ball and Jasper blocked Emily, I head-butted the ball back to Mia. She was surprised, but she kicked a long shot as I raced across the field and managed to tap the ball into the goal. Over the clamor of the crowd, I could hear Sookie cheering me on.

  People might think watching a close game is exciting, but playing in a close game is a lot of stress. At half-time the score was still one - one.

  As we sat on the bench, Ms. Dreeble rallied us. “You girls are playing marvelously.” Then she squeezed my shoulder. “And you’re playing with all your heart, Cat.”

  Me? Did Ms. Dreeble mean me? I looked up. She seemed so serious when she said, “Putting your whole heart into something is what counts.” Then she smiled and said, “Those are great qualities for a new team captain.”

  Suddenly some of my aches and pains faded, and I surveyed the soccer field with the eye of a team captain.

  The whistle blew and we were back on the field. It was as if I already was captain. Organizing my team renewed my strength. Emily tapped the ball to me. I kept tight control. But Clive stretched out his long legs and scooped the ball. I finally understood what Mr. Morrows’ meant when he said “wars were lost by attrition.” The gradual wearing down of our energy would go on and on until one team finally scored.

  I just couldn’t let it be the boys.

  When the whistle shrilled announcing the end of the game, we had managed to hang on to our one - one tie. Now there was going to be a shoot-out. Suddenly, the determination I’d felt throughout the game wavered. Endurance – Jasper had said – was the boys’ advantage. We’d played long and hard until we were spent. Practicing in the gym had only backfired for the girls. We hadn’t built up our stamina. Then I swallowed the butterflies that were trying to crawl out of my stomach and up my closing throat. This was no time to lose heart.

  We all held our breath as Emily kicked the first ball and it sailed fast and low into the goal net! She scored and we all roared in delight. Then it was Zach’s turn. He kicked hard and the ball soared high – poor Amarjeet didn’t stand a chance. The boys cheered. Then it was Mia’s turn. She aimed for the goalie’s shoulder and slipped the ball past him and into the goal. The crowd screamed, and I think I could hear Sookie and Mom’s cheers among them. Then Clive in his typical arrogant fashion barely tapped the ball and put a bend on it so it practically sailed in a circle around Amarjeet before dropping behind her and into the net. The boys jumped up and down, shouting and pounding each other on the back.

  It was my turn. We were doing well – matching the boys every inch of the way. Time to show which team was superior. I marched up to the ball. But I suddenly wond
ered how long I could keep this up, and then my leg began to cramp. No, not now! I shouted to myself. Focus – picture where you want the ball to land. Taking a calming breath, I rubbed my leg and waited until I managed to hear even the crumpling of a soda can in the stands. Uber-focussed, I lifted my leg to kick. There was a sudden shout from the sidelines. During that split second, Clive had shoved Mitch, and Mitch yelled as he fell onto a net of soccer balls. I stumbled. The ball caught the end of my foot and instead of soaring over the field as I’d planned, the soccer ball shot up and then dropped suddenly, making an easy catch for the goalie.

  Silence descended over the field as if the whole world held its breath. I couldn’t believe it. At the last second I got distracted and it cost us. “Please,” I pleaded under my breath, “it won’t happen again. Let Jasper miss the next ball, and I promise I will never lose focus again.”

  Jasper approached the ball. He kicked. The ball soared and landed neatly inside the goal right behind Amarjeet. The boys won!

  I stared at the boys in disbelief as they carried Jasper off the field.

  Jasper, my nerdy neighbor – my one-time friend – was finally cool.

  And I was the girl who lost the soccer match.

  The girl who cost our team the intramurals.

  CHAPTER 11 A Not So Grand Finale

  I SLINKED BACK to my team, wishing I could somehow crawl into Sookie’s purple turban and disappear. Everyone avoided me. I mean, what could my friends do? They were disappointed. Hey, it didn’t even matter. No one could be more disgusted with me than I was. Huddling behind the chain-link fence, I watched as the boys finally stopped cheering and then gathered in a circle, pounding each other on the back. My own team began to form a line, and as I watched from the sidelines, the two teams streamed across the field shaking each others’ hands.

  What was astonishing was how the girls were laughing and joking with the guys as they shook hands. Weren’t they devastated? It was as if I was far removed from the whole scene, a tiny insect on a leaf watching the mini dramas. When Mitch walked by Mia, his hand barely grazed her fingers. I could tell by Mia’s frown that she was disappointed. But when Jasper and Mia met up, he held his hand out and she didn’t even give him any eye contact. Her head was down, and she rushed past as if he was an insect on a leaf. Oddly, I noticed Emily made sure her hand lingered a lot longer in Clive’s hand than in Zach’s. But my short escape into the mini soap opera of Darkmont High abruptly ended with Ms. Dreeble’s sharp reprimand.