CHAPTER ELEVEN
SECRET ROOM BEHIND THE WALL
There were rolls of paper with the seal of the United States of America and a stamp on each one that read, “Kansa City, Missouri Federal Reserve.”
“What is it?” Katie asked from above.
“I’m not sure, exactly. They seem to be big rolls of paper. Wait a second,” I continued. “There’s some more boxes over here.” I crawled on my hands and knees toward the stack of wooden boxes. Kneeling in front, I started counting. One, two, three…there were nine boxes, in all. Their tops were nailed shut and large stenciled letters on the side read, “Printers Ink – India Green.” The top box’s lid was nailed just enough to keep it from sliding off. I took out the pocketknife that Charles had given me for Christmas last year. It was a red Swiss Army knife that had different tools that could be unfolded and used in emergencies. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world because it had come from Charles. I unfolded the flat tip screwdriver and carefully pried under the already loose top until it was entirely free. As I removed the wooden top I could see the shiny cans inside. I took one out and shined the flashlight to see what it was: “PRINTERS’ INK – distributed by Tyker – Colorado Springs, Colorado.” I heard a “thump” and turned my head quickly. Katie had dropped down inside and was crawling in my direction.
“What is it?” Katie whispered.
“It says printers’ ink,” I answered holding a can up and shining the light on it. I twisted open the top and stuck my finger in. “Yep, it’s ink,” I said as I held up my half-green finger in the brightness of the flashlight. I put the cap on and slid the can back in the box.
“Fire up that stove, Red,” came a muffled voice from above. Our hearts started racing, and we turned and crawled quickly toward the trap door. When we were ready to jump up and out, we could hear someone coming down the ladder as their boots hit each rung.
“Hurry! Hurry!” Katie whispered pushing me. “Close the trap door! Hurry, before they see us.” That was my thought exactly. I stuck my arm up, grabbed the door and pulled it sharply down, careful not to make any noise. “Oh great!” Katie whispered. “We forgot the table. I know they’ll notice that. I just know they will.”
“Sh! It’s too late now,” I told her. “Just don’t move.” We sat there in total darkness. The only sound to be heard was our rapid breathing and heartbeats that sounded like jungle drums to us. “Clank! Thud! Thud! Thud!” It sounded like someone was adding wood to the stove.
“Whew! It’s darn cold out there. Somethin’s blowin’ in tonight, boys,” someone shouted. “Hank, what’s this table doin’ over here?”
“Over where?” came the reply.
“Somebody’s moved it across the room. That’s where.”
“Oh, it was probably Slim when he stocked the goods, and he forgot to move it back,” came what must have been Hank’s voice. “You better check it out though, just to be safe,” he added. I had visions of Red walking slowly our way and jerking open the trap door and discovering us both cowering below. Then my worst fears came true. The door slowly began to rise. Our hearts were beating wildly. This was it. We were surely goners now. As it rose I could see cowboy boots and blue jeans staring me in the face. I held the flashlight tightly in my hand, realizing that any second I might be forced to become a man quicker than even I wanted. Charles had taught some Karate classes at the orphanage, and I had caught on pretty fast, but was I ready for this? Katie was silent and kept her hands tightly wrapped around my arm.
“Pow! Pow! Pow!” The door dropped quickly. “Get up here, Red! Hurry!” We could hear the muffled cries from above, and Red’s boots ascending the ladder. We waited a minute or two and began to slowly move.
“I’ll kneel, and you stand on my back. Just push up the door and peek out,” I whispered to Katie. She buried her knees in my back and reached upward slowly, pushing against the wooden door. “See anything?”
“No, there’s nobody here,” she said quietly.
“Good, let’s get out of here, then.” She pushed the door up and crawled out into the room above.
“It’s all clear, Ian.” I grabbed the frame and pulled myself up, resting on my elbows and wiggled out onto the dirt floor. After closing the door, we moved toward the ladder and waited silently at the bottom.
“What’s the shootin’ for? Are you crazy?” Red asked. “You’ll wake up the whole darn valley.”
“He just disappeared….just disappeared. I’m tellin’ you. He just disappeared.”
“Aw, quit babbling, Hank. Who disappeared?” Red asked, sounding frustrated.
“The Indian,” Hank answered. “The Indian was standing right there by that old stove and he just vanished.”
“Come on, Hank. You’re nuts,” Red shot back. Katie and I listened intently to the conversation above not knowing what to think.
“I shot him, Red but it went right through him. It didn’t even phase him.”
“Whad he look like?” Red asked.
“He looked like an Indian: a bow and arrows on his back and long hair with feathers in it. But it was strange; he had bright yellow moccasins,” Hank said. Katie and I turned and stared at each other, and Katie gave out a quiet gasp. Now, I knew, I wasn’t nuts. That was the same Indian Katie and I had both seen, and ours just seemed to vanish, also. “Come on. Let’s get outta here, Red,” Hank urged.
“You’re crazy, Hank,” Red shot back. “There’s a bad storm comin’ in over Cottonwood Pass, and I’m not getting caught in it for nothing.”
“You can stay here if you want,” Hank said, “but I’m leavin’. I’m not sleepin’ around any ghost for you or anyone else.”
“You’re not dealin’ with a full deck,” Red said disgustedly. “Come on, let’s get out of here before we can’t move at all in that snow.” We could hear them walking across the old wooden floor above our heads and then the sound of something sliding came shortly after that.
“That must be the old bookcase,” Katie whispered. We waited until there was nothing but silence and then slowly made our way up the ladder with me going first.
I reached the top and cautiously peered over the edge across the floor. All was clear, and not a sound could be heard. I climbed onto the floor and turned around to help Katie up. We were right. As I turned on the flashlight, we could see the bookcase was tightly shut. Now, how to get out. I stepped forward and ran my hands slowly around the rough, splintered edges of the bookcase, trying to find our way out. Minutes went by as Katie complained about the cold. Then I suddenly remembered how I had stumbled on it before. Because that’s exactly what had happened. I had stumbled, and I kicked the bottom with my foot, and it swung open. I started tapping the bottom with the toe of my boot. Nothing seemed to work, and frustration soon turned to anger. I slammed my foot hard into the corner, and like magic, it began to swing open.
“Give me your hand, Katie.” I took hold of her as I led us through the hidden entrance.
“Let’s get out of here!” Katie said frantically. “It’s 4:40 and everyone will be up soon. Mom and Daddy will kill us both!” I turned to close the bookcase once more. By now I had located the secret latch and quickly closed it behind us. We ran outside into the blinding snow. No horses! Our horses were gone. Then we both realized at the same time the reason no one had seen our horses tied out front. “Neigh! Neigh! Neigh!” We tramped through the snow toward the noise out back. There, under a tree were our horses tied neatly to an old bristlecone pine. “Who moved our horses?” Katie asked. We both looked at each other simultaneously.
“No! It can’t be or could it?” Had our Indian saved us again? Maybe soon we would find out. But for now we swore to each other not to mention this to anyone. We mounted our horses and set out into the blizzard.
After fighting our way back through the drifting and biting winds, we finally reached the ranch. No lights. Whew! We were lucky. We put our horses away and ran to the house. “Here,” Katie said, “follow me to
the side door. We can sneak upstairs more easily.” We opened the door slowly. There were no signs of life. “See you soon,” Katie said smiling. “Get some rest.” I went my way, and she went hers. I opened my door and fell flat on my bed. I think this was exactly the position I had been in before. This was a day I wouldn’t soon forget. Little did I know how important it would be.
The Ghost of St. Elmo Page 11