The Missing Book (3 page)

And there was another important thing in her life. Would Mrs. Chapman get the teaching position, accept it, and move away?

She couldn't sit up thinking about all this all night. She had to get some sleep. Closing the book, she set Windy down on the floor. “It's bedtime, Windy. Let's go.”

Mandie quietly climbed the ladder to the upstairs room she shared with her sister. Windy, who had become an expert at going up and down ladders, followed.

“Maybe I'll dream up a solution to all this,” Mandie mumbled as she prepared for bed.

3

More Questions

“JOE, I DO BELIEVE you have a secret,” Mandie teased as they walked down the road the next morning. She smiled up at him. He grinned back without replying. He seemed awfully happy about something.

“Well, what is it? Joe, tell me,” Mandie begged.

“What are you talking about, Mandie?” Joe asked, still grinning.

“You seem all excited and I want to know why,” Mandie replied, pausing to stomp her foot.

“Now wait, Miss Amanda Elizabeth Shaw, I don't have to tell you all my business,” Joe said, trying to act serious.

“Joe, tell me, please,” Mandie insisted as they walked on. “I promise not to tell anyone else your secret.”

“Well, you can't, because I just don't have a secret,” Joe answered. “Come on now, Mandie, or we'll be late for school.”

Mandie walked faster as he hurried on.

“All right then, I won't ever tell you any more of my secrets if you are not going to tell me yours,” Mandie said as they turned down the lane to the schoolhouse.

“Come on, Mandie,” Joe called back to her as he stepped up on the front porch.

Mandie followed as he opened the door.They were the first pupils there. Mr. Tallant was at his desk. “Good morning,” he said, then went back to his work.

Joe walked down the aisle, laid Mandie's books on her desk, and went across the room to his seat.

As Mandie sat down, other pupils began coming into the room. Soon everyone was present and Mr. Tallant called the roll.

“Your assignment is to solve the problems on pages thirty-two and thirty-three,” the schoolmaster told Mandie's group. He gave instructions for class-work to each of the other three groups.

Mandie's arithmetic book happened to be on top of her stack of books. Opening it, she began to work. She glanced up now and then and saw Joe smiling at her across the room. It was hard to keep her mind on the assignment.What was Joe's secret? And how could she get him to tell her what it was?

At the noon recess Faith ate with Mandie and Joe. She and her grandmother had been discussing the possibility of their moving to Tellico, and Faith was excited about it.

“Oh, I do hope my grandmother is given the job,” Faith told them. “She seems happy for the first time since the fire.”

“I'm glad she is better now and can go back to teaching,” Joe said.

Mandie silently chewed her biscuit and wouldn't look directly at Faith. She was secretly hoping they wouldn't move.

“My father and the other men in the neighborhood went over to your grandmother's house about six o'clock this morning to do some work on it,” Mandie said, trying to change the subject. “He said now that the weather is better they will probably get everything done soon.”

“Yes, my grandmother has been so grateful to all the people here in Charley Gap. They've been real neighbors,” Faith said. “Yet if my grandmother gets that teaching position we probably won't even move back into our house. Miss Abigail said there would be no sense moving in there for a little while and then moving on to Tellico.”

“That would be a lot of unnecessary trouble,” Joe agreed, eating his sausage biscuit.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Faith said, suddenly excited. “Have y'all heard about the person Mrs. Clifton saw in our yard over there after dark?” Mrs. Clifton helped Mrs. Chapman with her needlework. She lived close by.

“A man or a woman?” Mandie asked.

“Mrs. Clifton said it was either a tall, slender man, or maybe a woman. It's always too dark for her to tell,” Faith explained.

“What are they doing when she sees them?” Mandie asked, anxiously leaning forward.

“She said it looked to her like they were just walking around the house and looking in a window now and then,” Faith said, swallowing the last bite of her pound cake.

“We could all go over and sit and watch one night,” Joe suggested.

“My grandmother said maybe it was just someone traveling through,” Faith told them. “But Mrs. Clifton said she has seen this person several different nights. If they were just traveling through they would continue on. They seem to be just hanging around.”

“Then why don't we go watch for them one night?” Mandie asked.

Faith shook her head. “It might be dangerous.”

“I will speak to my father about it,” Joe said, rising from the log where they had been sitting.

“And I will mention it to my father,” Mandie added.

“And right now it's time to go back inside,” Faith told them.

“I'll ask my father if he and the men saw anything wrong over there today,” Mandie said as the three followed the other pupils back into the schoolhouse.

After recess Mr. Tallant collected the papers from all the morning assignments. “I'm going to give all of you an easy assignment for homework, which you can begin now,” he announced, pausing to look around the room.

Mandie smiled. This was very unusual.

“I want all of you, every group, to write a poem,” the schoolmaster explained. “Have the poems finished when you arrive at school tomorrow. Then we will read the poems in class and discuss them.”

“Oh, no!” was heard from several pupils.

Mr. Tallant smiled and said, “Now, I know all of you aren't poets, but at least make an effort to write something.We'll vote on what you write, and whoever has the winning poem will be made class poet.”

This was something new. A buzz went around the room. Mandie saw Joe raise his hand, and when Mr. Tallant acknowledged him, Joe asked, “Is there a certain subject we must write about, sir?”

Mr. Tallant replied, “No, I'll just leave the subject open. In fact, write about anything, at any length.You may all begin now. I will take the papers in the morning. Be sure you have your poem ready when you arrive at school tomorrow.”

There was a rustle as everyone opened their tablets to begin. Then silence fell over the room, with a sigh here and there.

Mandie glanced at Joe. He was hastily scribbling. Faith was looking at her and smiling. Mandie smiled back and shrugged. She didn't know what to write about. She had been writing poems ever since she had learned to read and write, but her poetry was private, and she had never allowed anyone to see the poems or even to know about them. She kept them in a box under her bed. And now whatever she wrote would be made public. It would have to be something that was not personal.

“Hmmm,” she said under her breath. “Maybe a poem about Windy.” She thought about that for a moment. “Or about the snow we've had this winter. Or . . .” She was out of possibilities.

Maybe when she got home she would be able to think better.

Joe seemed to be having no problem as he hurriedly scribbled away. Mandie noticed that Faith was writing something very slowly. Her other class-mates were bent over their tablets.

Mandie was surprised when the school bell rang for dismissal. Glancing at the big clock at the front of the schoolroom, she saw that it was indeed time to go home. Where had the afternoon gone?

On the way home Faith declared, “I can't decide what to write a poem about.” Looking at Joe and Mandie, she asked, “Have y'all?”

Mandie waited to see what Joe's reply would be, but he just grinned at the two girls and kept walking.

“Well, I haven't either,” Mandie told Faith. “I'll decide when I get home.”

After Faith left them at the crossroads to continue on her way to Miss Abigail's house, Mandie tried to find out why Joe was being so secretive.

“Joe, please tell me your secret. Please?” she said, walking fast to keep up with him.

“Mandie, I told you I don't have a secret. There's no secret to talk about,” Joe replied.

“Then why are you acting so happy today?” Mandie asked.

“What are you writing your poem about?” he asked instead of answering.

“What are
you
writing
your
poem about?” Mandie asked.

“I asked first,” Joe reminded her, grinning as they continued down the road. “What are you writing about? Do you hope to become the first class poet?”

Mandie stomped her feet as she walked on. “I don't know what I'm going to write about right now. I haven't decided,” she said. “And I am not interested in being class poet. Now, I answered your questions. Why don't you answer mine?”

“But I did, Mandie,” Joe declared.

“No, you didn't,” Mandie replied. “You didn't say what you are writing your poem about.”

Joe ran his fingers through his brown hair as they continued down the road. “I can't really answer that because right now I am trying out several ideas and don't know which one I will settle on.” He grinned down at her. “Now, does that settle your inquiry?”

“Will you let me know in the morning on the way to school what your poem is about?” Mandie persisted.

“Maybe,” Joe said. “If you promise to tell me what yours is about.”

“All right, then,” Mandie answered, taking a deep breath as they came to the path leading to the Shaws' house. Joe handed her books to her.

“See you in the morning,” he said, turning to go down the road.

“Don't forget to ask your father about someone being seen at Mrs. Chapman's house and all that,” Mandie called to him.

“All right,” Joe yelled back.

As she started on down toward her house, Mandie thought about a possible explanation for the person Mrs. Clifton had seen. Maybe Mandie's father had heard something about this. She looked down the pathway and smiled as she saw him working on the split-rail fence he was putting up around their property. She hurried forward to ask questions that he might be able to answer.

Then she remembered her missing book. That was a problem she did not wish to discuss with her father
or
her mother right now. She knew she would have to sooner or later if she didn't find the book, but just maybe it would turn up somewhere. She smiled as she realized she had not had a reading assignment in class or for homework. She had managed another day without her book.

Windy came running to meet her, and she stooped to pick up the cat. “Maybe I'll just write my poem about you, Windy.” Mandie rubbed her cheek on the cat's fur, and Windy purred loudly.

Her father called to her. “Have a nice day at school?”

“Oh, yes, Daddy,” Mandie replied, hurrying to his side. “We didn't do much today, and we don't even have any homework except to write a poem.” Without taking a breath, she asked, “Daddy, have you seen anyone prowling around Mrs. Chapman's house?” She looked up at him, anxiously awaiting his reply.

“Someone prowling around Mrs. Chapman's house? No, I haven't. What makes you ask that?” Mr. Shaw asked, straightening up from his task.

Mandie explained about Mrs. Clifton's seeing someone there.

“Well now, I suppose some of us men should go back over there and check things out,” Mr. Shaw replied. “We worked on the outside this morning. We didn't go inside the house.”

“Daddy, please let me go with you, please,” Mandie instantly begged.

“Not this time, Amanda,” Mr. Shaw said. “I'll ride the horse over to Lakey's house and we men will get together from there. I won't be taking the wagon.” He began picking up his tools. “I'll need to get started right away, while it's still daylight.”

Mandie was disappointed. “Will you tell me all about everything when you come back?” she asked.

“Of course, Amanda,” her father replied. “Now, you run along into the house and tell your mother where I am going. That will save me a few minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Mandie said, turning down the lane to the back door of the house. “Please hurry back,” she called to him.

“Yes, ma'am,” Mr. Shaw replied with a grin.