Bridge to Cutter Gap / Silent Superstitions / The Angry Intruder (18 page)

It was a hard thing to be thinking. It made Mary feel mixed-up inside. She didn't like that feeling, not at all.

“Mama?” Mary called. “I'm a-goin' down to the Spencers' to see Zady.”

“Take Mountie,” her mother called back. “Mary? You hear me?”

But Mary was already winding her way through the trees. She headed, fast as her feet could carry her, down a path that didn't go anywhere near the Spencers' cabin.

It went straight to the mission school.

“Twelve, thirteen, fourteen.” Christy sighed. Fourteen students today. At this rate, she'd be down to zero soon.

“Has anyone talked to the O'Teale children?” she asked. “Or the McHones or the Holcombes?” Even Lundy Taylor and Wraight Holt were gone today. As strange as it seemed, she was sorry to lose them. “With the weather better today, I'd hoped to see more of you.”

Christy's gaze fell on Creed. The little boy's neck was flushed, and his eyes were oddly bright.

“Creed, are you feeling all right?”

“Yes'm,” he said in the same flat voice he'd been using all week. “Just a little scratchy on my chest and neck is all.”

“You might be coming down with something,” Christy said. She reached over to feel his forehead. The boy flinched at her touch.

“You do feel a little warm. Are you sure you feel all right?”

“Yes'm.”

“What's that string around your neck?”

“Just a—for decoration, Teacher.”

Christy shook her head. She'd noticed that several of the other children were wearing pieces of string or yarn around their necks. There seemed to be something attached to the strings, but since the children wore the necklaces under their clothing, she couldn't tell for sure. Whatever the odd necklaces were, Christy had begun to suspect that they were the source of the bitter medicine smell wafting through the room. By now, she'd almost grown used to the odor.

Even Ruby Mae had taken to wearing one of the necklaces. Yesterday at dinner, it had been hard to ignore. “What is that awful odor?” Miss Ida had demanded.

“I don't smell nothin',” Ruby Mae had said quickly.

“You'd have to be missing your nose not to smell it,” David had said.

But Ruby Mae had just smiled innocently. When she'd left the table, David had whispered, “Probably just some mountain remedy. A lot of the children seem to be wearing those obnoxious things around their necks. Just think of it as another teaching challenge!”

Christy had laughed, but today, breathing in the horrible smell, she wondered how much longer she could stand it. Of course, at the rate her class was disappearing, she wouldn't have to tolerate the smell much longer.

The door opened and Christy turned to see Mary O'Teale, standing breathlessly in the doorway. Mary stared at all the empty seats, then smiled shyly at Christy.

“Mary!” Christy cried. “What a nice surprise! We've missed you. Come on in. As you can see, there's plenty of room.”

“I missed you too, Teacher,” Mary said, touching her neck self-consciously. She hesitated, then sat down on the girls' side of the room next to Ruby Mae.

“Were you unable to come because of the weather?” Christy asked hopefully.

“Weather. Yes'm,” Mary said. Her cheeks were flushed and damp. “For certain that was part of it.”

“And will Mountie and your brothers be coming today?”

Mary shifted uneasily in her seat, scratching hard at her upper chest. “I can't rightly say.”

“Mary,” Christy asked. “Are you all right? You look like you might be getting some kind of rash.”

“Just some itchin' that needs scratchin' is all,” Mary assured her.

Christy wondered again if the children were coming down with something. She knew that because the mountain people shared their drinking water and lacked the most basic hygiene, disease often spread like wildfire through the Cove. Typhoid, a particularly deadly disease, had hit the area many times. Christy wondered if she should have Doctor MacNeill take a look at the children. She'd seen him over at the mission house earlier today, talking to Miss Alice.

“It could be you're coming down with something contagious, Mary,” Christy said.

“I reckon I don't know what you mean by ‘contagious,'” Mary admitted.

“That means a sickness that other people can catch,” Christy explained. “Creed looks a little under the weather, and so do some of the others, come to think of it. Do you mind if I check your neck, Mary?”

Mary clutched at the string around her neck. “Oh, no, Teacher,” she cried. “I be fine, really I am.”

Christy bent down. She could see a horrible, bumpy red rash making its way up the little girl's neck. “Mary,” she said softly, “what
is
that necklace you're wearing? I notice a lot of the children have them.”

“Ain't nothin' special,” Mary said, looking away.

Christy sighed. She was getting nowhere fast. Her class smelled like a medicine factory. Several of her students were growing peculiar rashes. Most of them were wearing strange necklaces they refused to discuss. school at all.

Christy had talked to Miss Alice and David about the diminishing student population. They were as mystified as she was, but both had reassured Christy that it was only a matter of time before the mountain people began to accept her. She just wasn't sure she could wait that long.

“I am going to ask you this just once,” Christy said, in her no-nonsense teacher tone. “Someone has to tell me the truth. John? Creed? Mary? Ruby Mae?”

Ruby Mae leaned over and whispered something to Mary.

Mary whispered back. Both girls locked their eyes on Christy.

“Ruby Mae?

“Yes'm?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Ruby Mae twisted a strand of red hair around her finger. “No, Miz Christy, I reckon there ain't nothin' I
want
to tell you.”

“But you're usually such a chatterbox.”

“Yes'm, it's true. My mouth don't open just for feedin' baby birds,” Ruby Mae agreed. “And I don't mean to be ornery, but I reckon there's not a solitary thing I want to be tellin' you right now.”

“Fine,” Christy said, struggling to rein in her anger. “At the noon recess, I'm going to have Doctor MacNeill and Miss Alice take a look at those odd rashes.” She opened her tattered history book. “In the meantime, why don't I read you the story about George Washington and the cherry tree? Do you all know who George Washington was?”

Creed raised his hand.

“Yes, Creed?”

“I reckon he was Pa of the whole U-nited States.”

“Father of our country. Very good, Creed. And one of the things he's most famous for is saying he could not tell a lie.”

She studied the anxious faces of her audience. “Perhaps that's a lesson you could all learn from.”

“I'm a-tellin you, these rashes is part o' the curse,” Creed whispered in hushed tones behind the school during the noon recess. “I thought I'd be safe comin', what with Granny O'Teale's herbs and such.” He kicked at a pebble with his bare foot. “Truth is, I kinda
like
comin' to school. And Teacher seems so all-fired nice and everything, even if'n she
is
a flatlander and talks right peculiar. But now—” he scratched frantically at his upper chest, “
now
I ain't so sure I'm ever comin' back. I itch somethin' fierce.”

Ruby Mae leaned against the building, careful to avoid a brown tobacco stain. “I don't know what to think anymore. These rashes is plumb unnatural. Factually speakin', it makes me mighty nervous to be sharin' the same roof with someone who might just have a curse a-hangin' over her.”

“Could be Teacher's found out about Granny's magic recipe,” Creed suggested, eyes wide with fear. “Do you s'pose she's fightin' back with spells of her own?”

“Swear to Josh-way,” Mary said, “I've had rashes like this before from Granny's potions. One time—” she lowered her voice, “she got to fussin' 'cause Smith saw a pure black skunk. Not a stripe on that animal anywheres. Granny said it was an omen. Said we was all a-goin' to come down with the typhoid. So she made up this mixture, with lard and bear grease and who knows what all-else in it. Smelled to high heaven, it did. She made us smear it all over ourselves for three days solid. Thought I'd like to die from the stink of it.”

“So what happened?” Ruby Mae asked.

“Well, we'uns broke out with boils all over. You talk about itchin'? I tell you, I cried somethin' awful, it itched so bad. Worse than this, even,” Mary said, pointing to her chest. “Course,” she added, to be fair, “we never
did
come down with the typhoid, so maybe there was somethin' to Granny's potion, after all.” She sighed. “I feel all switched-up inside, like there's two whole Mary's in there, argufyin' over whether to trust Teacher or not.”

“I might just have a way to figure out the truth of things,” Ruby Mae said. “You two can come if'n you want, but you gotta be quiet as mice.”

“Will it tell us if'n Granny's wrong?” Mary asked.

“Could be. We're a-goin' to sneak into Miz Christy's room and find out the truth.”

Mary nodded. “Let's do it, quick-like,” she said. “I have to know if I'm right about Teacher, one way or the other.”

Seven

M
iss Ida, have you seen Miss Alice?” Christy asked as she stepped inside the mission house.

Miss Ida looked up from the pie crust she was rolling out in careful, even strokes.

“I thought you were upstairs,” she said, her brow knitted. “Didn't I just hear you—” She shrugged. “I must be imagining things. Miss Alice is in her cabin, I believe. She's meeting with Doctor MacNeill.”

“Doctor MacNeill's still here?” Christy said. “That's wonderful. I need to have him look over some of the children.” She hesitated. “Actually, I was wondering if I could recruit you for a minute or two. . . .”

“Me?” Miss Ida demanded. “I don't know the first thing about teaching!”

“I just need you to keep an eye on things while I go get Miss Alice and the doctor,” Christy explained. “There aren't that many children to watch, actually.”

Miss Ida sighed. “I'm right in the middle of an apple pie.”

“Tell you what,” Christy said. “I'll do all the cleaning up around here for the next couple of days, if you can just spare me ten minutes.”

“No need,” Miss Ida said, wiping her hands on her apron. “My work is never done around here, anyway. What would you all do without me, I wonder?”

“So do I,” Christy said with a grateful smile.

As she headed across the main room toward the front door, Christy thought she heard whispering from the stairwell. She paused, listening. Nothing. But as soon as she started walking again, she was almost certain she heard a muffled giggle coming from the second story.

Christy crept up the stairs, careful to avoid the one near the top that squeaked. Her bedroom door was half-closed. She could hear the shuffle of feet, then whispering.

“Ruby Mae?” Christy asked, pushing the door open.

Someone screeched. Christy entered the room to see Ruby Mae standing near the bed, hands clasped behind her back. Mary O'Teale and Creed Allen were sitting at the foot of the bed.

“What on earth are you three doing in here?” Christy cried.

“We . . . uh, we was just a-lookin' for—” Mary's voice trailed off.

“For somethin',” Creed volunteered.

“That much is obvious,” Christy said. She took a step forward and Ruby Mae instantly took a step back, tumbling onto the bed. “What's that behind your back, Ruby Mae?” Christy asked.

“Behind my back?” Ruby Mae repeated in a shrill voice not at all like her own. “Behind my back? Well, like as not, I 'spect that would be my fanny.” She offered Christy a weak smile.

“Very funny, Ruby Mae.” Christy put her hands on her hips. “You three do understand that this is my room, and that you do not just go poking around other people's property without their permission?”

All three slowly nodded.

Christy reached for Ruby Mae's arm. “Come on, Ruby Mae,” she said gently, “hand it over.”

“No!” Creed cried suddenly, leaping off the bed. “Don't hurt her, Teacher!”

“Creed, of course I wouldn't—”

Ruby Mae's face was white as she reached out a trembling hand. She was holding a black leather book.

“My diary?” Christy gasped. “You were reading my diary?”

“We was just tryin' to find out if you—” Ruby Mae seemed to lose her voice.

“If I what?” Christy pressed.

Ruby Mae looked at Creed. Creed looked at Mary. Their faces were pale, their foreheads beaded with sweat.

Christy approached Mary. The little girl was trembling, but when Christy knelt beside her, Mary managed a small smile.

“If I what, Mary?” Christy asked in a whisper. She held out her hand and Mary reached for it. Her fingers were like tiny icicles.

“You know, Mary,” Christy said, “I miss seeing Mountie. I miss all the children, of course, but I've especially missed seeing you two. When you came back today, I was so happy that I said a little prayer of thanks. Do you think Mountie misses me?”

Mary gave a tiny nod.

“And have you missed me, too?”

She answered with another nod.

“Whatever you tell me, Mary, you can trust me. I won't let any harm come to you. I'm your friend. I came here to help you. Do you believe me?”

Mary thought for a minute, her small mouth working. At last, she nodded again.

“Then you can tell me, Mary. What are you afraid of?”

“Don't, Mary!” Creed cried. “If'n you tell her, then the secret recipe won't work no more.”