Colonial Madness (19 page)

It wasn't too hard to guess what the final challenge would be.

As Great-Aunt Muriel and I stepped closer, I could see the tops of two heads above the seats on either end. Dylan and Angel were already waiting for the games to begin. Great-Aunt Muriel coughed, and they both peered around the side of the chairs to look at us. Angel smiled. Dylan scowled.

“Hail, hail, the gang's all here,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. She took the empty seat next to Dylan, and I took the one next to Angel.

“Popcorn?” Angel offered, holding out a bowl.

“You're kidding,” I said, but it smelled so good that I grabbed a handful.

“I really hope your mom wins,” she said.

I stopped midcrunch. “You do?”

She nodded. “Now that I've told my parents the truth and I don't have to keep them off my back, I realize you were right. We don't need the money, and neither does Dylan's dad.”

“Like heck we don't!” Dylan leaned over and frowned. “My dad promised me a new four-wheeler if we won.”

“Yeah, but Tori's mom could lose her shop!” said Angel.

He shrugged. “Her mom should've handled her money better instead of being a typical chick and—” He froze when he remembered who was sitting beside him.

“Go on,” said Great-Aunt Muriel, turning to face him. “I'm curious to know what the typical self-absorbed, ignorant lay-about thinks of a typical ‘chick.' ”

Dylan's face darkened, but he simply leaned back in his seat without a word.

“Anyway,” Angel said, touching my arm, “I don't know what I was thinking. You're my friend and my family, and I should have been thinking of ways to help you instead of hurt you. Can we be friends again? I'll even share my honey hair spray with you.”

I smiled. “That's
definitely
not necessary, but yes, we can be friends. I haven't been my best self here either,” I said.

Angel squealed and threw her arms around me, spilling the remaining popcorn from my hand on the ground.

“Wonderful,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. “Soon we'll be assaulted by geese.” She reached into the folds of her shawl and pulled out a pocket watch. “Your parents should be appearing any moment now.”

Dylan, Angel, and I all twisted in our seats to look behind us.
Sure enough, Mom was trudging down the hill next to Eli, with my uncles and aunt not far behind. They were all staring up at the bell connected to the beam. Aunt Zoe leaned over to whisper something to Uncle Deke.

Eli marched the parents in front of Great-Aunt Muriel's chair, and she studied them for a moment.

“Your final challenge,” she finally said, “is to ring that bell. Throughout history, it has been the quickest way to announce a threat to the populace. There are, however, three rules.” She nodded to Eli.

“Rule One,” he said. “You cannot touch any part of the vertical support pole. Rule Two, you must complete your work where it can be seen by all, to rule out foul play. And Rule Three, the bell must be rung by hand.”

“Any violation of the rules will result in instant disqualification, and the winner shall be the first person to ring the bell,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. “Simple enough?”

All four parents nodded, and she clapped her hands together.

“Then let the final challenge . . . begin.”

Immediately, Uncle Max broke into a run and sprinted for the barn.

“Go, Dad!” cheered Dylan.

Uncle Deke and Aunt Zoe conferred for a moment, looking from the pole to each other before darting toward the stables.

“Go, Mom and Dad!” cheered Angel.

Mom stayed at the pole the longest, as if willing it to speak the solution. Then she sprinted for the house.

“Go . . . back outside!” I said, twisting in my chair to watch as the door closed behind her.

“Disconcerting, isn't it?” asked Great-Aunt Muriel. “To wonder if she's already let you down.”

“No, I'm sure she's coming up with something clever,” I declared.

There was a terrible splintering, groaning sound, and all eyes went first to the pole, which remained still and calm. Then Uncle Max appeared with a long board wobbling on his shoulder.

Great-Aunt Muriel narrowed her eyes. “Is that from the side of my barn?”

Uncle Max dropped the board on the ground, and I could see the nails poking through.

“To be fair, it wasn't in the rules,” I said as Uncle Max ran away again.

Great-Aunt Muriel was not amused.

Something rumbled from inside the stables, and then the
front end of a wooden cart emerged, pushed by Uncle Deke and Aunt Zoe.

“What . . .” I looked at Angel and she shrugged.

Then we both jumped as a massive white object fluttered past us and dropped onto the ground by the bell pole. A second later, Mom's head popped out of the center.

“Ha!” said Dylan. “What is she gonna do, put on a ghost costume and hope to fly?”

If Great-Aunt Muriel hadn't been between us, I would've smacked him.

It took a minute of Mom spreading out the white object for me to realize it was two bedsheets.

Great-Aunt Muriel narrowed her eyes. “Are those from one of my bedrooms?” She pointed a finger at me. “Say nothing.”

I hid a smile.

Mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a needle and spool of thread. In ten seconds, she had the needle threaded and was working it in and out of the two sheets, joining the bottom of one to the top of the other. Her fingers flew along the fabric, completely undisturbed as Uncle Max threw a second board down beside the first.

“Maybe she's making a really long cape,” said Dylan with a snicker.

“Maybe it's a gag to put in your huge mouth so she can think in peace!” I shot back.

“I
am
curious what she intends to do,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. “Aren't you?”

“Of course,” I said. “But I know it's nothing stupid like turning into a ghost or Superman. My mom's too smart for . . . OW!”

Angel was digging her fingernails into my arm. “Oh no.”

I looked at her parents and jumped in my seat. “Oh
no
,” I repeated.

Uncle Deke had climbed into the wagon and crouched so that Aunt Zoe could get on his shoulders.

“Did they use to be in the circus together?” I asked. “ 'Cuz that's the only way this'll end well.”

Angel shook her head and bit her lip. “I can't watch.” She covered her face with both hands. “Have they fallen yet?”

“No,” I said. “I'm pretty sure you'd hear the crunch of broken bone.”

Angel shifted her hands to glare at me.

“There they go!” I said as Uncle Deke slowly straightened with Aunt Zoe on his shoulders.

“Ack!” cried Angel.

“Fall! Fall! Fall!” cried Dylan.

Next to me, Great-Aunt Muriel watched with eyes alight.

Mom continued to ignore everyone around her. Every so often she'd stop sewing and tug at the seams. Uncle Max had disappeared again, but I could tell what he was doing.

I wasn't the only one.

“It shouldn't take him long to assemble that ladder,” Great-Aunt Muriel mumbled to me. “Why don't you let me cut you a deal?”

Now it was my turn to block out all the sounds around us. My vision telescoped until it was just Great-Aunt Muriel and my reflection in her eyes.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She clucked her tongue. “At the pace she's going, your mother won't win this contest, which is a pity because I was rooting for you two the most. Therefore, let me offer you a consolation prize. I will pay your bills in full so you don't have to close your dress shop.”

I stared at her. “In exchange for what?”

“You simply drop out of the competition and let one of the other two teams win.” She spread her hands open. “It's bound to happen anyway.”

“No, thank you,” I said, frowning. “I think we can still win this.”

I turned away from her and tuned back in to the action.
Uncle Max was now hammering smaller pieces of wood between the two longer ones, and Aunt Zoe was straining to reach the bell with one hand while pulling out Uncle Deke's hair with the other.

“We just need a few more feet!” she told him.

Angel was peeking through her fingers. “What are they going to do now?”

Mom continued her sewing.

“Hey.” Dylan leaned across Great-Aunt Muriel and poked me. “Don't forget that side bet we've got going on.”

Great-Aunt Muriel raised an eyebrow. “What side bet?”

I groaned. “I have to do his homework for a month if I lose, and he has to wear a dress if
he
loses.”

Great-Aunt Muriel stroked her chin. “Ah. So
that
is why you won't forfeit.”

“No,” I said. “I won't forfeit because I think we can win.”

“I think you're about to be proved wrong,” she said, pointing.

Uncle Max was propping his ladder against the beam.

“I can add five thousand dollars to my original offer,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. “That's enough to pay someone else so you don't have to lift a finger helping your cousin.”

“No!” I said, covering my ears.

Uncle Max put his foot on the bottom rung and tested it for security. Satisfied, he moved on to the next one.

“Tori,” Great-Aunt Muriel's voice sounded close to my ear. “Why don't—”

“Shut up!” I screamed, jumping out of my chair. “I don't care how rich and important you are, just shut up!”

Great-Aunt Muriel gaped at me, wide-eyed, lower jaw shaking.

“I promised my mom that I'd believe in her.” I pointed a trembling hand. “And that's what I'm going to do. You could offer me a
million
dollars, and I would still never give up on her.” Tears started streaming down my face, and I turned to Mom. Panic stricken, she dropped the sheet and moved as if to come to me.

“No, don't stop!” I told her. “Keep going! You can do it!”

She froze, then clenched her jaw and nodded.

I didn't return to my seat, choosing instead to sit on the ground by her.

“How much did she offer you?” asked Mom.

“Five thousand and all bills paid,” I said.

She snorted. “We're worth way more than that.”

I glanced past her to Uncle Max, who was still climbing up his ladder, and to Uncle Deke and Aunt Zoe, who were now getting ready to climb on a barrel resting on the cart.

“Done!” said Mom, holding up her masterpiece . . . of two sheets sewn together.

“I'm not gonna lie,” I said. “I feel slightly underwhelmed.”

She winked at me. “Just watch.”

Again there was a cracking and splintering sound, but this time it came from much closer. Uncle Max froze midway up the ladder and locked his knees against the side.

“Oh, boy,” he said. “I knew that board looked a little flimsy.”

No sooner had he gotten the words out than the board beneath his feet split in two. The sudden pressure on the board below snapped that one as well, and soon Uncle Max was tumbling onto the crash mattress.

“And now it's my turn,” said Mom.

Picking up a large rock, she wrapped one end of the doubly long sheet in it and, with a loud grunt, hurled it over the top of the beam. It dropped down to the other side, taking half the sheet with it.

“Interesting,” said Great-Aunt Muriel. Even Uncle Deke and Aunt Zoe stopped their mini circus act to watch.

Reaching up, Mom grabbed the bottom of both sheets and began to climb, wrapping small sections of the sheet around her foot for leverage.

“No. Way,” said Dylan.

“Wow,” said Angel.

“Brilliant!” I laughed, and clapped my hands.

A minute later, a bell rang loud and clear.

“We have a winner,” announced Great-Aunt Muriel.

And there was much rejoicing at the future estate of Jill and Victoria Porter.

D
ylan and Uncle Max decided not to stay after Dylan threw a megatantrum and Uncle Max finally couldn't take any more. He literally scolded his son into silence—something I never thought I'd see. “Remind me to never get on Uncle Max's bad side,” I'd told Mom.

“I'm sorry y'all had to witness that,” said Uncle Max. “I try to keep a civil tongue, but . . .” He chuckled. “I reckon it's time we hit the old dusty trail.”

“Are you two going to be okay?” asked Aunt Zoe, taking in Dylan's sullen expression.

“Oh, sure,” said Uncle Max. “We'll be doing a lot more talking, and
Dylan will be getting a serious attitude adjustment once we get home. There's a corrective program that I've been meaning to enroll him in. Champs, I think it's called.”

“Ironic,” I said, smirking at Dylan. “Oh, and instead of one of my mom's dresses, I thought you'd prefer to remember us by wearing
this
.” I held out one of my colonial dresses. “You may want to run it through the wash.”

Dylan wrinkled his nose in disgust, probably at both the thought of wearing it
and
the stink coming from it.

We said our good-byes, and then Great-Aunt Muriel turned to Mom and me.

“Why don't we meet in my study with my lawyer.”

Then, without waiting for a response, she hobbled up to the manor.

Mom linked her arm through mine and then led me to Aunt Zoe.

“We're going to need help managing our assets, which means a nice cut of the profits . . . if you're interested.” She offered Aunt Zoe an elbow.

Angel and I exchanged excited grins.

“How can I turn down an offer like that?” asked Aunt Zoe, slipping her arm through Mom's.

The three of us climbed the lawn, like Dorothy and company off to see the Wizard, but I heard a whistling sound that
made me stop. Caleb was grinning and waving from the doorway of his craft hut.