Eldritch Manor (2 page)

Willa needed no more prompting. She made a quick exit, dumping the coins into her pocket, where they now jangled as she fell forward over her handlebars, shortly after her front wheel hit the curb in front of the news-paper office, the one curb in town that is half an inch too high, which is precisely where we came in.

After a short, uneventful flight, she landed on the sidewalk, rolling and scraping her palms, elbows, and knees. She lay for a moment with her cheek on the hot pavement. Her eyes teared up. Her hands stung horribly but her first thought was —
did anyone see?

She looked up and sure enough, just her luck, there were some grade nine boys across the street, outside the corner store. They were laughing. One of them said something she couldn't hear and the laughter doubled.

Willa blinked back tears as she sat up and inspected her palms. Why couldn't she have broken her leg? Then she could spend the summer in bed with a giant cast and read all day instead of getting a stupid job. Pulling up her left knee for a closer look, she heard some of the coins slip out of her pocket onto the sidewalk with a soft clink. She turned to see them rolling away, which immediately struck her as odd because they were rolling
uphill
. She quickly put out a foot to stop them.

The three coins abruptly stopped and executed a smart right hand turn, curving around her foot and continuing on their way up the sidewalk.

Wherein Willa follows the money to an even bigger mystery

A
s
Willa pedalled home, she was no longer thinking about her scraped knees or stinging hands, or even about the boys who'd laughed at her. Normally when she did something embarrassing in front of people, she ran it over and over in her head until she wanted to scream. Not this time. All she could think about were the coins jingling in her pocket.

She wasn't even thinking about the stern look on Aunt Hattie's face when she told her aunt that she hadn't sold any subscriptions. Willa had decided to keep those wacky old ladies and their coins to herself.

“Maybe you're just not cut out for sales,” Hattie had said. Willa couldn't agree more.

About a block from home she stopped and pulled out the whole fistful of change. It looked like a normal jumble of coins — none of them were covered in runes or anything, just the regular queen heads, beavers, sailboats, and elk. She was just wondering if she had hallucinated the whole thing when the coins began to jump in her hand. She slapped her other hand over them and they wriggled beneath it, tickling her palm and making her shiver. When they calmed down again she shoved them back in her pocket, all but one, which she placed on the sidewalk. She watched closely as it hopped up on its edge, slowly spun around a couple of times, and rolled off down the street.

Fifteen minutes later the coin slowed and made a sharp turn up the walkway of the big house.
Well, that makes sense,
thought Willa.
It's heading back to where it came from.
The porch was empty. The coin reached the bottom of the stairs and paused for a moment before
leaping
onto the first step. Willa stared as it jumped up all the stairs, then rolled right up and banged into the front door with a faint
ping!
In her pocket the rest of the coins suddenly went crazy, jumping and jiggling. She pulled them out and they fairly flew from her hands, thwacking themselves into the door over and over again.

Inside the house there was movement, footsteps, a cat's meow. Then the door swung open and the coins dropped lifeless at the feet of Miss Trang. She glared at Willa with dark, glittering eyes.

“What do you want?”

Willa froze under her cold stare. She had been so focussed on the coins she hadn't even considered what she would say once she got there. Baz peeked out from behind the woman's left shoulder, covering her mouth and laughing silently. Miss Trang glanced down at the coins and rolled her eyes.

“Belle!” she barked over her shoulder, sending Baz scampering away down the dark hall. Miss Trang turned back to Willa.

“Belle gave you some money. She probably wanted you to take her to the ocean, am I right?” Willa didn't know what to say. She didn't want to tell on anyone, so she kept quiet. Miss Trang continued. “And her money started acting strangely and here you are. You think the coins are
magic
. You want to solve the
mystery.
” She was speaking very quickly and sharply. Willa backed away, feeling small and foolish. Miss Trang paused, her voice softening just a little, little bit.

“Well, there is no magic and there is no mystery. Belle was just playing a little trick with magnets. Nothing more.” A teeny smile crawled across her face, but it wasn't reassuring ... it just made her look scary.

“And we don't want any newspapers. Goodbye.” The last word was so firm and final that Willa could do nothing but turn and go down the steps. At the bottom she looked back to see Baz picking up the coins as Miss Trang held the door open.

As she reached the sidewalk she heard the door slam shut behind her. She glanced back and spotted Belle in an upstairs window, slowly combing her long, long hair. Willa could hear her humming mournfully and froze in her steps, overcome with sudden pangs of sorrow. She looked so sad. Willa waved but Belle was looking beyond her, gazing off in the direction of the ocean.

Willa's mind was racing. Magnets? Ridiculous. What magnets could work all the way across town? Miss Trang was lying. What was going on in that house? Was she keeping those old ladies prisoner?

That evening Willa found her mom in the bathroom surrounded by tubes of colour, busily banishing the grey from her hair. Twisting her towel into a turban, Mom scowled to hear that Willa was giving up on the newspaper job. But Willa had a plan B. She would work doing odd jobs — mowing lawns, weeding, cleaning houses, pet-sitting, that kind of thing. She'd even made posters with their phone number at the bottom that she was going to put up all over the neighbourhood. Her mom was surprised for sure, maybe even impressed. When Willa showed the posters to her dad, he said she had gumption.

Willa herself felt uncommonly adventurous. Especially because of the secret motivation behind her plan B. The posters were really just a way to get another look at the old house by the park. Willa was going to get inside and try to find out more about its inhabitants. She felt excited and nervous at the same time. It was like real detective work! It might even be dangerous. Well, probably not very dangerous. After all, it was just bunch of little old ladies.

The next day she went about taping her posters to lampposts all over the neighbourhood. When she reached the park across from the old house, she sat on a bench, pulled out a book, and waited.

Detective work turned out to be more boring than she expected. The porch was empty and nothing happened for nearly two and a half hours. She had finished her book and was just nodding off when the slam of the front door snapped her awake. Miss Trang strode off down the street, purposefully consulting a piece of paper, a shopping bag slung over one arm. Willa held her book up in front of her face until the coast was clear, then she strolled casually to the front gate of the big house, her heart pounding. As she passed through the gate, something small and hard hit her on the head with a sharp CRACK!

An acorn dropped to the ground in front of her. Willa rubbed her head, wondering what acorns were doing falling from a willow tree. She peered up into the branches, right into an old, old face, brown and lined with wrinkles, all of them creased into a smirk.

“Gotcha!” it squealed.

Startled, Willa let out a shriek and jumped back as the owner of the face swung from a branch and landed heavily in front of her. He grimaced, clutching his back as he straightened up. Willa was surprised to find the old man was smaller than she was — he only came up to her shoulder, but he raised his fists as if to fight her.

“Wanna fight? Hmm? I may be old but I'm
wily!
” He danced, hopping awkwardly around her.

“I was just going to visit ...”

“Hah!” he interrupted, squinting at her. “Aren't you scared? I am Tengu, and this house is feared by all!” He hopped back and forth, grimacing and waving his arms. The effect wasn't very scary; in fact, it was all Willa could do to keep from laughing. She covered her smile with one hand, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

Then he stopped and leaned in conspiratorially. “I bet you've heard lots of scary stories about this place. Yes? Hm? Well ... they're
all true!
” With this he let out an exultant wolf howl. “OwWOOOOO!”

Willa looked around nervously. She really didn't want to attract any attention. “I — I haven't heard any stories at all,” she admitted.

Tengu stopped in mid-howl, his face falling. He was clearly disappointed. “None? Doesn't anyone talk about this house?”

Willa shrugged helplessly. The little man's energy seemed to drain away. He plunked himself down cross-legged on the walk with his frowning head in his hands. “No reputation at all. Simply unacceptable. Something must be done,” he muttered.

“There may be stories, I've just never heard them,” Willa offered, but he waved her away, lost in thought. She stepped around him and continued up the porch steps, taking a deep breath. Back to her plan. She was going to find out what was going on and do her best to help those dear old ladies. Miss Trang couldn't keep them trapped in there. They'd be so glad that she'd come to rescue them.

Willa paused at the front door. She could hear voices inside, arguing loudly. She rang the bell. The voices stopped abruptly. There was a moment of silence and then the door opened a crack. Baz peered out through the chain, just staring at her, not speaking. Willa cleared her throat.

“Hm. Hello. I'm ... I was here the other day. Selling newspapers?”

Baz stared blankly at her. A long, uncomfortable moment passed. Willa felt it was now or never. She drew herself up to her full height and spoke in her best “Aunt Hattie voice,” surprising even herself. “I want to talk to you about a very,
very
important matter!”

Baz pursed her lips and squinted. Willa squinted back. Finally Baz blinked. “Well ... hold on a sec.”

She shut the door again and a great ruckus began inside — banging, a loud thumping up the stairs, more banging, whispered arguing. When all was quiet, Baz suddenly swung the door open, grabbed Willa by the arm, and yanked her inside, slamming the door after her.

Willa stumbled into the dark hall, dropping her posters. She stooped to pick them up, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. The place smelled distinctly of cat. She followed Baz into the parlour, where someone was shouting.

The room was dark, the sunshine blotted out by heavy red curtains. It was very old-fashioned and crazily cluttered, with leather armchairs and ottomans underfoot and a flowery sofa scuffed by cat claws. There was a fireplace, a piano, spidery plants on little end tables, a large dollhouse in the corner, ghostly white teacups on dark shelves, and doilies over the backs of the chairs. A large birdcage hung in one dark corner, housing some kind of bird, asleep with its head under its wing. More immediately, however, Belle and a distinguished old gentleman were shouting across the room at one another.

“You know-nothing pompous
ass!
” Belle barked.

“Loud-mouthed shrew!” the man hollered back, frowning behind tiny wire spectacles. Willa watched in alarm as Belle grabbed a teacup and hurled it at the man. He neatly deflected it with a throw cushion, sending it crashing into the piano. Baz didn't seem to mind the ruckus. Grinning, she draped herself on the sofa with her hands folded beneath her chin.

The man picked up a scone and lobbed it at Belle; she in turn grabbed another teacup.

“Stop! Stop!” Willa hollered. They turned, staring, and she felt herself blushing.

Belle dropped the cup onto an ottoman. “We have a visitor. Behave yourself, Horace.”

The man straightened his tie and jacket, looking very tweedy and professorial. He sat back down as Belle swivelled her wheelchair to peer at Willa. “Who are you and what do you want?”

“I'm Willa. I was here the other day....” Blank look. “Selling newspapers?” Belle shrugged, tucking her blanket around her legs. Willa tried again. “You wanted me to take you to the ocean, remember?”

At this Belle's eyes lit up. Her face split into a grin. “Oh! and you've come to take me there. You dear, sweet, sweet girl!”

“No, I can't do that, exactly....”

Belle's face fell into a scowl. “Well, what good are you then?” This was it. Willa stepped forward.

“I've come to help you.”

Horace sat up quickly. “Then settle this for us. Who do you think would win in a fight ... Odin or Zeus?” Both he and Belle leaned forward, eagerly awaiting her answer.

Willa blinked in surprise. “You mean, the gods Odin and Zeus?” They nodded. “What kind of a fight?”

Belle answered, holding up her own bony fists. “A bare-knuckle brawl. No magic, no flying, no weapons, no outside help. Who would you bet on?” Willa thought it over carefully for a moment.

“I don't think they'd fight. Wouldn't it make more sense if it was Thor and Ares? The gods of war?”

The old man cackled. “You have a point there,” he started, but was interrupted by a loud banging from upstairs. He shouted up at the ceiling. “She says they wouldn't fight!” He was answered by a loud crash that made Willa jump. Horace grinned. “Our distinguished colleague upstairs disagrees with your assessment.”

Belle was scowling. “Hogwash,” she grumbled. “Of course they'd fight, they're cranky old men! Anyway, Wilma isn't here to settle arguments. She's here to take me to the beach, the darling.” She had turned all sweet again and was clutching at Willa's arm.

“It's
Willa
, and I'm sorry, I can't. I just came to —”

Belle snatched a poster from her hand and scowled as she looked it over. “Yesterday it was newspapers, today it's odd jobs. You're in every racket going!” She crumpled the poster and tossed it over her shoulder. “We've already got someone! Don't let the door hit you on the way out!” She flicked off the brake on her chair and rolled through the dining room and out into the kitchen, Baz padding along behind her. Willa turned back to the old man, Horace. He shrugged.