The Fiddler's Secret (5 page)

The ten-year-old grinned. “I told you he's a good dog.”

“Being brown doesn't make a dog good,” Libby spouted, then remembered to use signs.

Smudges of mud covered Peter's face and shirt. More smudges darkened his wet sleeves.

With the third tub of water, Wellington changed colors again. To Libby's amazement his coat looked brownish red.

By now Wellington had begun responding to Peter's love. Lifting the dog out of the final rinse water, Peter wrapped a towel around him and set him on the deck. As Peter rubbed the dog dry, Wellington crept closer to him.

Suddenly Caleb started to laugh. “Libby, the color of Wellington's hair is exactly the same as yours!”

CHAPTER 4

L
ibby scowled at Caleb. She couldn't think of anything she wanted less than hair the color of a dog's. Especially a dog such as Wellington!

But Caleb was already pointing to Wellington's hair, then to Libby's. When both Peter and Jordan caught on, they, too, started laughing. Libby's face burned with embarrassment.

“How can you, Caleb Whitney!” Libby's auburn hair had always been a source of pride to her. Here on the deck, the sunlight brought out the deep red and gold. It also reminded Libby of the sacrifice she had made for Peter in cutting her long hair.

In that moment he stopped laughing, as if he, too, remembered. “Libby, your hair looks really nice.”

Surprised by his kindness, Libby blinked her eyes. When she stopped being angry, she saw that Wellington had a long, narrow head and a wiry coat. Even Libby had to admit that it was a wiry
red
coat.

“I think he's some kind of terrier,” Caleb wrote on the slate.

“He's a
mutt
!” Libby spit out.

“My family used to have a dog like him,” said Peter, blissfully unaware of Libby's opinion. “He always perked up his ears when I came home. Then he jumped up to welcome me.”

Though Wellington was still wet, Peter gathered him close. Wellington snuggled his nose into the crook of Peter's arm.

Seeing them together, Libby felt just a bit kinder.
Maybe he won't be such a bad dog after all. Except for his size, Wellington isn't that much different from Samson. And somehow I grew to love him
. Reaching out, Libby even petted the terrier's wet head.

As Libby got ready for the concert that evening, she brushed her hair and felt thankful that Annika had trimmed it. Libby still missed the long, beautiful hair she had cut, but at least it looked even now. In the damp night air it even curled in a special way.

By the time she left her room, the sun had set. When Libby started down the stairs, wisps of fog hung just above the surface of the river. As she watched, fingers of fog reached upward. Soon the small wisps gathered together, changing shape. Twisting and turning, they rose in the air.

Uneasy now, Libby dreaded the thick fog they might once again face. Like a column of smoke, it hung in the darkness.

Soon she entered the main cabin, the long, beautiful room that stretched from one end of the boat to the other. The tables used during meals had been pushed against the walls, and chairs were set row by row for a concert. Overhead, oil lamps glowed softly, pushing away Libby's thoughts of fog and danger.

Wearing white jackets, Caleb and Jordan stood along the back wall. Though they were cabin boys for Pa, both of them did much more. While Libby talked with them, the fiddler came in.

“I think he has a secret,” Libby whispered as the man
walked toward the other end of the room. “Maybe he's a long-lost son, hiding from his family.”

“Or maybe he made his family angry.” Caleb's grin was full of teasing for Libby.

Jordan laughed. “You both have too much imagination. I think he's a son lookin' for his family.”

The fiddler held his violin under his arm and still wore the tattered white shirt. It bothered Libby. In spite of her uneasiness about him, she liked the way he helped the deckers after the crash. Libby didn't want first-class passengers making fun of him.

At the front of the room the fiddler sat down. A murmur passed through the crowd. It wasn't hard for Libby to guess what people were saying.

Moments later Libby saw Annika. Tonight the teacher wore a deep rose dress that brought soft color to her cheeks.
She's beautiful!
Libby thought. Best of all, Annika was beautiful on the inside.

Libby hurried forward and sat down next to her. “Let's save a seat for Pa.” When Annika moved over, there was still an empty chair on her right, but also one on Libby's left side, next to the aisle.

To Libby's dismay her Aunt Vi joined them, taking the chair on the other side of Annika. Recently Vi had come to the
Christina
for a visit. Though sisters, she and Libby's mother were very different. While her mother had loved Libby unconditionally, Vi always tried to make her over.

She still wants me to be a perfect lady
, Libby thought and felt surprised that the idea no longer hurt. Only a few days before, Libby had decided she wanted to leave past hurts behind.
When she forgave her aunt, Libby made a list about ways Vi had helped her.

Now Libby leaned forward to speak across Annika. “Auntie, you taught me to like music.”

Vi sniffed. “I taught you to like
good
music. Look at that man's clothing! His trousers are baggy at the knees and his shirt downright ragged. What a disgrace!”

Her cheeks warm with embarrassment, Libby reminded herself that she had decided to be nice to her aunt, no matter what.
If I don't answer, maybe she'll stop talking
.

But when Pa introduced the fiddler, Vi spoke again, her voice loud enough for everyone around her to hear. “What is your father thinking of, bringing such a man into this fine group of people? Why, he might rob us before the evening is through!”

Libby slid down in her seat, trying to hide behind Annika.

Then Pa spoke in his strong, clear voice. “Tonight we have the privilege of offering some very fine music. I have the pleasure of presenting to you Mr. Franz Kadosa. Please welcome him with your applause.”

Around Libby only a few people clapped, and none were enthusiastic. Libby and Annika tried to make up for the others. When Mr. Kadosa announced a sonata by Beethoven, Annika looked pleased with his choice.

As Pa sat down next to Libby, Mr. Kadosa began to play. To Libby's surprise he seemed a different person from the fiddler on the main deck. Instead of the strong rhythms of quick, bright folk tunes, he played formal classical music. Instead of attacking the strings, his bow drew long, sweet sounds. When he finished his first number, the applause started with Libby, Pa, and Annika, then grew around them.

Aunt Vi gave a few halfhearted claps. In the moment of silence before the next number, she spoke across everyone to Pa. “It's embarrassing how your violinist looks.”

Pa frowned at Vi. “Mr. Kadosa wanted to play the way he was. I didn't want to rob him of that dignity.” Though Pa's voice was low, even Vi understood that his words ended the matter.

When Mr. Kadosa announced his second choice, Libby had never heard of the composer. But Annika whispered, “Number 24! Very few violinists can play it!”

There was no question whether Mr. Kadosa had mastered the difficult piece. The singing tones of his violin filled the large room. By the time he finished playing a Hungarian Rhapsody, the audience no longer seemed to notice his appearance. Even Aunt Vi joined in the warm applause.

Libby felt relieved.
If Pa wants to give passengers something to think about besides the fog, he has succeeded
.

Now and then Libby caught her father watching Annika. Each time she clapped for the music, Pa looked as if he had arranged the concert just for her.

Partway through the concert, Libby noticed that something had changed. Whenever Mr. Kadosa announced a new number, he glanced around the room. At first he seemed to be making eye contact with his audience. Then Libby guessed it might be more.

Strange
, she thought when she caught a pattern in what the violinist was doing.
He's careful about it. But he watches the shadows especially—the places where a man might hide
.

The idea frightened her.
I'm imagining things
, she told herself. Yet in between watching Mr. Kadosa, she stole a look at her father.

Each time Pa turned toward Libby, he could glance across the audience. Libby doubted if anyone else caught what he was doing, but she knew her father well.

When the violinist looked toward a dark corner of the room, Libby's father glanced the same way. In the midst of the next number, Mr. Kadosa turned slowly, making a circle, like he was used to playing with an audience behind him.

There's another door that way
, Libby thought.
Mr. Kadosa must know that
.

Soon a man appeared from a different direction. Halfway up the cabin, between the staterooms on that side, a door opened to the deck. The man stood half in and half out of the room.

The shadows along the wall kept Libby from seeing the man's face, but Pa kept glancing that way. During intermission Libby whispered to him, “What's wrong?”

Pa's voice was so quiet that Libby had to lean close to hear. “I misunderstood,” he said. “I thought Mr. Kadosa was worried about his clothes. Or that he wanted to be paid.”

Now Libby felt sure about her strange uneasiness. “The fiddler has a secret,” she whispered.

Pa nodded. “He's my guest. I need to protect him.”

Again Pa glanced toward the door leading to the deck. As Libby's gaze followed his, she saw that no one stood there now. Yet Pa seemed just as uneasy as she felt.

“I tried to give Mr. Kadosa a stateroom, but he didn't want it,” Pa said. “Tell Caleb and Jordan to make sure no one interferes with him. They should see that he returns to the main deck safely, then keep an eye on him.”

While people moved about during the intermission, Libby
gave Caleb and Jordan her father's message. She decided not to return to her chair.
If I'm not there, Pa can sit next to Annika
.

Soon Mr. Kadosa started playing again. Libby stood at the back of the room. At first she enjoyed the music. Then she saw that her attempt to bring Pa and Annika together had failed. Aunt Vi sat between them!

Libby groaned.
What is the matter with her?

One guess
, Libby thought. Her aunt had threatened to take Libby back to Chicago.
If Pa marries Annika, Auntie can't say I need to live with her
. The idea of living with her aunt again filled Libby with dread.

From where she stood, Libby could see the violinist even better. Everyone except Pa seemed lost in the music. Mr. Kadosa's searching had a definite pattern now.

Following the hands of a clock, he turned to the left, left center, straight ahead, right center, then right. With each turn he played enough measures to make his movements a natural part of what he was doing. As if dancing to his music, he turned around to the empty space behind him. Only his eyes gave him away, and only because Libby had seen how carefree he was with the deckers.