SummerHill Secrets, Volume 1 (23 page)

She cocked her head. “Uh, what time did you say?”

“Three o’clock,” I repeated.

A smile burst across her wrinkled face. “Well, my dear, I must tell you that between three and four each and every weekday, the world comes to a screechin’ halt.”

I had no idea what she was referring to. “Why’s that?” I asked.

She pointed a long, bony finger at her television. “That’s the reason I didn’t see nobody on Zooks’ farm, dearie.”

“Oh, you have a favorite show or something?”

“You heard right.”

I stood up to go, disappointed by this lack of news. “It’s just too bad about Elton,” I said under my breath.

She leaped up suddenly. “Now, what is this wide world coming to!” she exclaimed, nearly scaring me to death. “Oddballs like that Elton fella oughta be put away for good.”

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe my ears.

“That’s right,” she said, waving her hands through the air. “I’ve heard about people like him. You just can’t be too careful.”

“He saved my life!”

“That’s all well and good, but the thing is, the boy’s trouble. Powerful big trouble.” She sighed. “Why else would the police go and lock him up?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Spindler, but I have to go now.” I marched straight to the front door, and just like that, I left. People like Old Hawk Eyes should have to spend one hour with someone as sensitive and kind as Elton Keel. Then they’d know exactly what this wide world is coming to!

On the way back to my house, I noticed a bunch of buggies parked at the Zooks’. Amish friends and neighbors were clearing away debris from the barn fire. Tomorrow, the foundation would be laid for a new one. That’s the way it was with the Amish. Instead of buying insurance, everyone worked together to rebuild. In the Plain community, that’s all the insurance they needed.

After lunch, the mail came. There was a card for me from Jonathan Klein. He’d written the verse himself.

Get well, won’tcha? Mistress Merry of mirth must make
monumental effort to match wits with the Word Wizard.
Can’t compete without clever company, comprende?
Just Jon

I smiled and read it again. The Alliteration Wizard had come through with a cool get-well card, and Spring Spree or not, I couldn’t imagine him sharing our private game with anyone else. Especially not Ashley Horton!

Later that afternoon, Mom announced that she had a few errands to run. “Need anything, Mer?”

“Will you pick out a Bible for Elton at the Christian bookstore?” I asked.

Mom agreed, and I ran upstairs to get some money.

“Now, be sure to rest while the house is quiet.” She blew a kiss as she left.

A nap would feel good. But before lying down, I got the brilliant idea to call Lissa’s father. Since he was one of the cops at the school the day of the trash-can fire, and because I was a friend of his daughter, maybe I could get him to see the light about Elton.

Lily White followed me into Dad’s study. She was fast becoming my shadow. After dialing the police department, I waited for the dispatcher to connect me with Officer Vyner. Several recordings later, he came on the line.

“Hello, this is Merry Hanson, Lissa’s friend.”

“Yes, Merry, how can I help?”

I explained the reasoning behind my view that Elton was innocent. “He should be set free,” I insisted. “He didn’t start the fire.”

“I understand how you must feel,” Lissa’s father said, “but Elton is a very unstable person. He is autistic.”

There was that word again. Autistic. Skip had used it offhand to describe Elton last week.

“But that doesn’t mean he’s destructive,” I said. “Elton is a very sensitive person. I wish you could get to know him.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen a side of Elton that the police force hasn’t,” he said kindly, “but unless you can provide something more substantial than your feelings, I’m afraid Elton will have to be tried for arson.”

“What about Ben Fisher? He’s been causing all sorts of trouble at the Zooks’. Have you talked to him?” I felt bad about breaking my promise to Rachel, but I had to help Elton now.

“We’ve heard some stories flying around, but nothing we can confirm, Merry. You know the Amish won’t implicate one of their own.” I heard his beeper going off like crazy in the background. “Substantial evidence is what we need.”

“Thanks for your time, sir,” I said, and hung up.

I needed proof to clear Elton—something to get him off the hook. It sounded so easy. Maybe a bike ride past Ben Fisher’s place was the answer. Maybe I’d even get brave and talk to Ben myself.

The bike ride turned up absolutely nothing. I even went up to the Fishers’ farmhouse and asked Ben’s mother if I could talk to him.

Anything to get Elton off.

It turned out that Ben was in Ohio, visiting some Mennonite relatives. I didn’t think to ask her how long he’d been gone. I was too depressed to think straight.

Finally, I went to my room to rest like Mom wanted. But I never fell asleep. My mind raced ninety miles an hour. The idea that Ben might’ve been in Ohio on Monday troubled me. Where did that leave Elton?

Lying on my bed, I played with the straps on my camera case. Soon, my cats joined me. They snuggled in as waves of depression poured over me. At long last, I was ready to pray. Sobbing, I told all my fears and concerns to God, asking for His help.

Later, when Mom got home, she came right up to my room. Her hair was windblown, smelling fresh like spring. She ran her fingers through the top of it before opening her shopping bag. She reached inside and pulled out a black leather Bible.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, stroking the binding.

“When do you plan to give this to Elton?” she asked, looking quite pleased.

“Tomorrow, I think.” I wondered if Elton’s grandma might agree to meet me at the detention center. “Thanks for getting it, Mom.”

She smiled, adjusting the collar on her light blue shirtwaist dress. “It’s a wonderful gift, Merry,” she commented. “I’m glad you’re so willing to give to others. And if you need to borrow money for Spring Spree, just ask your father.”

“Oh, that,” I groaned as she walked toward the door. I wanted to forget about Spring Spree.

“What, honey?” She turned around.

“Nothing.”

Nothing was right.

Mom came over and sat on my bed. Lily White sniffed her hand, checking her out. “Hey, Miss Lily, I’ve been around here much longer than you have!” Mom said, grinning.

We laughed together. And the lighthearted moment brought welcome relief to the tension of my crazy, mixed-up life.

That evening, Rachel’s sisters came pulling her in a red wagon. She smiled at me from her padded perch, lined with a bright-colored quilt. The girls giggled, their eyes bright and cheeks rosy as they called to me. “Hello, Merry! Are you better?”

I held out my bandaged arms for Nancy, Ella Mae, and little Susie as they gathered close to see. “It still hurts a bit, but not too much,” I said.

Nancy and Ella Mae held up Rachel’s bandaged foot. I leaned over to inspect it. “Can you put weight on it yet?”

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. “Some.”

I stood up, noticing several gray buggies parked in the Zooks’ lane. “Got company?”

Rachel turned to look. “Jah. Jacob Esh and his boys are over deciding things about the new barn with Dat. Jacob is the master carpenter.” She turned to look at me. “You hafta come to the barn raising. It’s Friday, you know.”

“I don’t know if I should miss school for it, but I’ll ask.”

Little Susie jumped up and down. “You hafta, Merry. It’s so-o much fun!”

Nancy nodded. “Ach, there’s more food than you’ve ever seen.”

“Like what?” I asked, responding to the eager looks on the girls’ faces.

“Like fried ham and gravy, and English walnut pie, that’s what!” said Ella Mae.

“Mm-m, sounds good,” I said, playing along with the younger girls, rubbing my stomach like Susie.

“Well, we better get going home,” Rachel said, and her team of sisters pushed and pulled her down the lane.

“Good-bye!” I called.

“Seven sharp,” Susie shouted back.

When I arrived at Mifflin Junior High Thursday, everyone carried on about the fire…and me. Even Jon hung around my locker longer than usual. I noticed Ashley Horton get tired of waiting for him and head off to first hour by herself.

At lunch, Chelsea practically hovered. “Let’s see what seconddegree burns look like,” she said. “Is it all blistery and yucky under there?”

Lissa frowned at her across the table. “Don’t be gross.” She pleaded with me not to take off the bandages.

“Don’t worry,” I said, glancing at the table where Elton usually sat. It seemed strange that I should notice. After all, I hadn’t known him that long. One week today.

Chelsea and Lissa chattered on and on about how they would’ve died if something horrible had happened to me.

“Did you see your life pass before you?” Lissa said softly. “That happens to people sometimes.”

Chelsea snickered. “You did that for a barn cat?”

I nodded, smiling. “You sound just like my brother.”

Lissa sighed. “All I can say is, God must’ve been watching out for you, Mer.”

I waited for Chelsea to freak out about Lissa mentioning God like that. She set her glass of soda down slowly, holding on to it, then looked at me. “Well, someone sure was.”

I rejoiced silently. It was a minor breakthrough for a selfdeclared atheist.

After school, I sat with Grandma Winnie in the visiting area of Maple Springs. Goose prickles popped out on my neck as I thought about Elton being stuck there.

“How’s Elton today?” I asked his grandma, next to me on the sofa.

“Oh, you know him,” she said, waving her hand. “Elton takes things in his stride. I guess you could say he lives his life in his head, so it’s hard to take much away from him.”

I breathed deeply before asking my next question. “Do you think Elton started the barn fire?”

“He’s mighty different, that boy, but setting a barn on fire, well, that’s another story.”

“So, then, you think he’s innocent.”

“Oh indeed, I do. But it looks as though our hands are tied,” she said, her voice drifting off as a counselor led Elton into the room.

Grunting, she pulled herself up off the sofa and shuffled over to Elton. “It’s so good to see you, honey-boy.” She wrapped her jolly arms around her grandson.

Elton was motionless. And by the blank look on his pale face, I could see he’d regressed quite a bit.

I clenched my teeth, coming to grips with reality. Isolating Elton here, away from the people who loved him, had been a big mistake.

I struggled with my good memories of him—those few times we’d spent in the willow grove and at the covered bridge. Elton had begun to grow, to change. And now…

I couldn’t bear to see him like this.

Grandma Winnie led him to a chair, and he nearly collapsed into it, weak and dejected. I swallowed hard to keep from crying. This special kid, the boy who’d saved my life, needed help.

Elton’s grandma stroked his back. “Look who’s come to pay you a visit.”

I stood up and walked over to him, wishing there was some way I could communicate the important things—how I’d tried desperately to clear his name. I wanted him to know. But the timing didn’t seem quite right, especially with Elton’s grandma right there—and the counselor breathing down our necks.