Ghosts Beneath Our Feet (10 page)

After twenty minutes with the ice pack, Mrs. Blaine helped Katie up the stairs and into bed. Soon afterward Katie heard Jay come home. She'd finished her tray of hamburger patty, mashed potatoes, peas, and milk, when he came upstairs and stopped at her partly opened door.

“You okay?” He sounded gruff, but Katie was pleased that he'd bothered to ask.

“I'm all right,” she said. “I fell down, and my ankle puffed up, but it looks pretty good now. Did you have fun at the lake?”

“Fair. The water's too warm for swimming, and there's lots of green stuff on the surface.”

“Ugh.”

He went on to his bedroom, and the house was still. For the first time Katie found herself missing a television set; she longed for something to distract her from thinking about the afternoon. There had to be an explanation for the voices—a believable one—but she couldn't find it.
I'll never believe in knackers
, she told herself.
Not unless I see one as clearly as I saw May Nichols
.

Moonlight streamed through the open windows, and the crickets began their nightly song as Katie burrowed deeper into her pillows. She didn't want to go to sleep. She'd probably dream about knackers pouring out of the mine shaft, with the ghost of May Nichols trying to hold them back. Or they might burst through the kitchen floor.…

Stop thinking
, she ordered herself. But she knew she'd go on imagining terrible things until … until she went back to the shaft house to find out what was going on.

Chapter Thirteen

“I feel a lot better.” Katie showed her mother how well she could walk. There was a little stiffness, but the swelling had disappeared overnight. The ankle was definitely strong enough to carry her to the mine.

“Do you need help today?” Katie almost wished her mother would say yes, but Mrs. Blaine shook her head.

“No, thanks. Uncle Frank asked me to sort through some old trunks in the attic, and I think I'll tackle that this morning.”

“Then I'm going out for a while. To pick some wild-flowers.”

It wasn't a real lie. The meadows were full of daisies and Queen Anne's lace, and Katie would remember to gather some on the way back from the shaft house.

“What about you, Jay?” Mrs. Blaine asked. “I could use help pulling the trunks out to the center of the attic where I can get at them.”

“I can help—for a while at least.”

“Good. Uncle Frank mentioned that there's a stamp collection up there. He said if you want it, it's yours. He said it isn't particularly valuable, but it's a good collection to build on.”

“He did?” Jay looked pleased.

Mrs. Blaine grinned. “Well, what he actually said was, ‘It'll give the young feller somethin' safe to do. Can't break 'is neck ridin' up and down 'ills on a stamp collection.'”

Jay laughed in spite of himself, and Katie and her mother exchanged a quick glance.

It's wonderful to see them having fun together
, Katie thought.
Maybe Jay's beginning to believe we need him in this family—and not just to move trunks in the attic. Maybe he's beginning to see that we really love him.…

The meadow was at its liveliest, spangled with color and dancing in the wind. The mine buildings looked sleepy in the sun, and not at all scary. A yellow butterfly darted in front of Katie as she crossed the mine yard and went around to the back of the shaft house.

The crate and the railroad ties were under the window where she and Joan had left them. She wished Joan was with her now, but since Mrs. Trelawny had forbade Joan to go inside the shaft house, Katie hadn't invited her along. Katie climbed onto the crate with care, knowing that if she fell this time there would be no one to help her. When she stood up on the ties and leaned through the window, she realized she was trembling.

The shaft house was lighter than it had been yesterday. The ore car rested against the gate. Katie studied the shadowy corner beyond the shaft, but there was no sign of May Nichols's white face and shining hair.

Might as well get it over with
. Gritting her teeth, Katie swung her legs over the windowsill and dropped to the crate on the other side. Her ankle twinged. Cautiously she stepped down to the floor.

The cool damp of the big room wrapped itself around her. There were small scratchings behind the boxes and scrap iron that lined the walls, and when she stopped to listen she heard the sound the wind made as it moved the machinery at the top of the shaft. On tiptoe, she crossed to the ore car.

There could be something—or someone—inside it. She fought a wave of panic. If knackers existed, one could be waiting there for some silly girl to come here all by herself. He could leap up and grab her—

She looked into the car and felt better. It was empty. No, not quite empty. Something lay at the bottom—a small boxlike object.

It was a tape player.

Katie blinked, half expecting the object to vanish. Then she climbed into the car and crouched on the bottom. The tape player was real. It was, in fact, one that she'd seen many times before.

She pressed the
PLAY
button, and the sound of whirring tape whispered from the machine. She switched to
REWIND
, then started the tape again.

“
Help us! Save us! Get us out of here
!”

Katie shuddered and stopped the tape. The cries were terrifying even now, when she knew it wasn't knackers shrieking from the bottom of the shaft. She snatched up the player and scrambled from the car.

Tears of rage blurred her eyes as she scrambled up on the crate and struggled through the open window. The ties teetered underfoot, and she forced herself to move more slowly. But when she was safely on the ground again, she began to run, the sore ankle forgotten.

“I hate him! I
hate
him! And he's going to be sorry!” She tore around the side of the shaft house just as Jay appeared at the other end of the building.

They stared at each other.

“I hate you!” Katie screamed. “You're just—just gross! I s'pose you came back for this.” She lifted the tape player over her head and threw it with all her might.

“Hey!” Jay lunged forward, but Katie reached the spot where it had fallen first and stood over it, her fists clenched.

“I hope it's wrecked!” she roared. “Then you can't use it again to play mean, nasty tricks on people. I bet you thought it was really funny when I darned near broke my ankle!”

Jay stepped back. “It was just a joke,” he protested. “Where's your sense of humor? You said you were going to hunt for knackers or whatever you call 'em, and we just thought—”

“We!” Katie cringed. It was even worse than she'd thought. “You and—and that awful Poldeen! That big nothing was there laughing at us, too. Oh, I think you're the meanest, low-downest—you know what?” She felt as if she might explode into a million tiny pieces. “I actually wanted you for my brother, Jay Blaine. I thought you were neat. Well, that was the dumbest idea I ever had. You can go back to Milwaukee tomorrow, as far as I'm concerned. I hope you do. I hope I never see you again!”

She kicked the tape player out of her way and stalked past him. She'd surprised herself with the depth of her anger. It was as if all the harsh words she'd been holding back for months had come flying out when she pictured Jay and Skip Poldeen laughing at her and Joan.

She whirled suddenly and faced Jay, who had been following at a safe distance. “Where were you yesterday, anyway?” she demanded. “You couldn't have climbed into the cage! Even you wouldn't have been dumb enough to do that.”

“I was hiding on the other side of the ore car,” Jay muttered.

“And that whole story about going to Tuesday Lake was a lie?”

“No, it wasn't. I hiked out there in the morning, but the swimming was no good so I came back early. I ran into Skip, and we sat around shooting the breeze for a while. I told him you and Joan were going to the shaft house to look for knackers, and he said we ought to go there, too. He doesn't like Joan—she puts him down all the time.” Jay paused. “The tape was my idea, not his.”

Katie walked on. “I wouldn't be proud of
that
.”

“I'm not. But I didn't mean to scare you that much. I thought you'd guess it was a joke.”

Katie wondered if he was as sorry as he sounded. She hoped so.

“I even thought maybe you'd catch on right away and climb inside to look around. That's why I made the ore car move.”

“You and your buddy Skip,” Katie said bitterly.

“Skip was outside. He moved the crate away from the window after I climbed in, so you wouldn't know anyone else was there. He was hiding behind one of the other buildings.… What're you doing?”

They had reached the meadow, and Katie plunged off the path. “I'm picking wildflowers, obviously. I said I was going to pick 'em, and I'm doing it.”

“So you told a sort of lie, too,” Jay reminded her, but without his usual bite. “You didn't want your mother to know you were going to the shaft house—”

“Oh, be quiet!” She wished he'd go away. Instead he just stood in the tall grass watching her, the remains of the shattered tape player dangling from one hand.

“Katie, I want to tell you something. If you knew—”

“I know all I want to know,” Katie snapped. “I don't want to hear about how Skip Poldeen is really a good kid and I don't have a sense of humor and nobody loves poor you. Just leave me alone!” She turned her back and snatched handfuls of daisies.

“It wasn't any of those things,” Jay said. “But I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want. Who cares, anyway?”

When she looked again, he was nearly to the road that led into the woods. His shoulders were hunched, and he walked fast, almost but not quite running.

I guess I told him
! she thought with satisfaction. She turned back to the wildflowers and tugged at a stubborn stalk of Queen Anne's lace till it came out of the ground, roots and all.

Chapter Fourteen

“He's gone! He's been gone all night. His bed hasn't been slept in!” Mrs. Blaine's face was ashen. She stood in the doorway of Jay's room, staring at the unwrinkled bed. “He's never done
this
before. Oh, Katie, where in the world could he be?”

“I don't know.”

“Did he say anything to you about running away? He was awfully quiet yesterday, wasn't he? Even more so than usual.”

“He didn't say he was going to run away last night.”
But I said plenty to him
, Katie thought as she turned away to hide her expression. Jay was probably on his way back to Milwaukee. She'd have to tell her mother he'd been threatening to go ever since they arrived in Newquay. And she'd have to tell her about yesterday's fight, too.

“Well, I'm going to call the sheriff.” Mrs. Blaine started for the stairs. “And I'm going to call that Poldeen person, too. If they went off somewhere on the motorcycle and had an accident—”

Uncle Frank stood in the parlor arch waiting for them. “What's 'appened?” he demanded. “Somethin' wrong with the boy, is it?”

“He's been out all night.” Katie realized her mother was crying and attempting to hide it. “Oh, Uncle Frank, I could kill him for scaring me like this—and yet if he's lying in a ditch somewhere, I'll never forgive myself. I honestly don't know how to handle him! I don't know what to do next.”

“'Ere, now.” The old man put his arms around Mrs. Blaine's shoulders. “You 'ave a good cup of tay before you do anythin' else, that's a good girl. Nothin' like a cup of tay to make a body feel better.”

Suddenly he was in charge, drawing Mrs. Blaine down the hall past the telephone to the kitchen. Katie followed. It was the first time she'd seen her mother too upset to cope. She'd been strong even when Tom Blaine died, saving her tears for when she was alone.

“You 'eat the kettle, missy,” Uncle Frank ordered. “And put some tay in the pot.”

Katie obeyed while Uncle Frank pressed Mrs. Blaine into a chair. He patted her arm and offered her a wadded handkerchief from his sweater pocket. When the water was boiling, Katie brought the teapot to the table and found cups on the shelf.

“That's better,” Uncle Frank said. “Drink up now.”

“I should be calling the sheriff.”

“In a bit. You drink your tay first.”

Katie collapsed into a chair. After a moment Uncle Frank sat down, too, and took a noisy sip of tea.

“I have this terrible feeling,” Mrs. Blaine quavered. “I can see Jay hurt—”

“No, you can't,” Uncle Frank said. “Up to some devilment, I don't doubt, but that don't mean 'e's been 'urt.”

Katie's mother leaned back and brushed a hand across her eyes. “I am just so tired,” she murmured. “I feel as if I've been fighting with him for years, and losing the battle. Maybe I've lost it already. I mean, maybe I've lost
him
. The thing is, he isn't a bad boy”—she looked at Uncle Frank, wanting him to understand—“I know that, even when he drives me crazy. He needs someone more patient than I am, someone who knows more about boys. I get so mad, but it's only because I'm worried. I love him, for goodness' sake!”

“Maybe he took the bus back to Milwaukee,” Katie suggested timidly.

“Oh, no!” Her mother was shocked. “Did he say—”

“I'm here.”

They all jumped, and Uncle Frank's cup rocketed across the table, spilling a stream of tea on the oilcloth. Jay stood on the other side of the screen door. His face was pinched, and lumpy with mosquito bites. His straight blond hair was tousled. He opened the door and came in, his eyes on Mrs. Blaine, a stunned expression on his face. Katie wondered how long he'd been standing there.