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Authors: Wendy Mass

13 Gifts (16 page)

BOOK: 13 Gifts
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“That’s not necessary,” she says. “You can have the key. Perhaps I’ll think of something I need later.”

“Are you sure we can take it?” Amanda asks.

Mrs. Grayson smiles again. “If you think you can carry it.”

We exchange puzzled glances.

“Is it really fragile?” Rory asks. “Maybe we should put it in a box?”

I’m thinking she’s probably right, that it’s pretty old. I mean, who makes keys out of wood anymore?

“Why don’t you have a look for yourselves,” Mrs. Grayson says, pointing us toward a room at the end of the hall.

The first thing I see when we enter the room is a piano. The only other things in the room are a couch and coffee table. I figured the key would be in a bowl or on a key chain or something, but all the surfaces are bare. “It’s in here?” I ask her, confused.

“Um, Tara?” David grabs my sleeve and points behind me.

And there, on the wall, hangs the world’s biggest key.

Seriously. The key is so big the only door it could possibly open would be a castle in Giant Land. It must be four feet long!

We line up and stare at it.

“There must be some mistake,” Rory says. “That can’t be it, can it?”

We move closer. It says all the right words down the side.

“That’s it, all right,” Leo says.

“You’re sure you want to part with it?” Amanda asks. “There’s gonna be a big empty space on the wall.”

“That’s okay,” Mrs. Grayson says. “I wound up with it by default anyway; it was never really mine. Out of curiosity, what else is on the list?”

None of the other people had asked us this. I don’t see the harm, though. I fish around in my pockets while the boys climb on the piano bench so they can work on getting the key down.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Rory says to me. “Very colorful.”

“Aunt Bethany got it for me. I feel like I’m four years old.” I find the list and hand it over.

Rory, Amanda, and I follow Mrs. Grayson over to the couch, where she sits down with the list. A minute later, she abruptly stands up and leaves the room, leaving the list open on the coffee table.

“What just happened?” Rory whispers.

“Maybe we shouldn’t take the key,” Amanda says, worriedly. “Maybe it means more to her than she let on.”

“Um, kinda heavy here?” Leo calls out.

We look over to find Leo holding the full weight of the key. “Sorry,” David says, hurrying to lift the other end off the nail. “Got distracted.”

They climb down from the bench and stand there, holding it awkwardly. “So what should we do?” Leo asks.

No one has an answer. Finally Mrs. Grayson returns. Instead of being upset, she looks almost, well,
relieved.
Like some burden has been lifted.

“Is everything all right?” Amanda asks. “We can leave the key.”

Mrs. Grayson shakes her head. “I want you to have it. And this, too.” She hands Amanda a long, skinny box. I know instantly from sorting through Mom’s jewelry drawer that it’s the kind of box a necklace fits in. Amanda opens the box and lifts out a long strand of pearls. They shimmer in the light.

“You’ll note the gold clasp,” Mrs. Grayson says. “I believe it’s the necklace you’re looking for.”

“This is yours?” Amanda asks incredulously.

“It belonged to my sister, Francis. She used to be the dance teacher in town many, many years ago. She’d wear that necklace for her performances.”

Amanda lays the pearls back in the box and tries to give them back. “We can’t take your sister’s pearls.”

“Yes, you can,” Mrs. Grayson says. “They aren’t real, if that makes it any easier. Only the clasp is.”

The two of them argue back and forth. My breath starts coming faster. How can Angelina ask people to part with their things like this? Just so she can make money reselling them? It’s cruel. Did she get all the things on her shelves this way, or did people come in and drop them off? I think it’s time for another visit.

While I’ve been seething, Mrs. Grayson has somehow convinced Amanda to take the key and the necklace, and Rory has told Mrs. Grayson about the knife.

“I’d like to tag along,” Mrs. Grayson says as everyone moves out of the room. “That can be the favor you do for me.”

Amanda nods in agreement.

“Wait,” I say, hurrying after them. “Maybe we shouldn’t even try for the knife. Maybe this whole thing isn’t a good idea.”

But David and Leo are already lugging the key out the door to Ray’s car. Amanda and Mrs. Grayson chat as they head toward the garage. No one is listening to me. I literally stomp my foot in frustration.

Rory hangs back and pulls me aside, into Mrs. Grayson’s kitchen. I can’t help noticing that only one place at the table is set.

“Tara, remember what I said about things with Angelina seeming like they don’t make sense? And that you have to just do your best to trust her?”

“Yes, but —”

“I need you to remember that. Amanda and Leo tried to help me last year, and I’m trying to help you.”

I feel myself calming down. I’m lucky to have someone like Rory, who cares so much. If I had to do all this alone, I never, ever would have made it. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll try.”

She squeezes my arm. “That’s the spirit! Now let’s go get some strange guy to give up his favorite knife!”

When we get outside, Mrs. Grayson has already backed out of the garage. I’m surprised to see that her car is a bright orange Jaguar. David and Rory yell, “Shotgun!” and race each other over to it. Ray strides across the lawn toward me. “Hang on a second; how come she gets to go on the next one when I had to stay out here?” He gestures with his thumb at Mrs. Grayson.

Leo answers. “She’s got a cooler car.”

I nod. “Can’t argue with that.”

Ray grumbles all the way back to his car. The key takes up his whole backseat, so Amanda and Leo have to go with Mrs. Grayson, too. We lead the way to Big Joe’s, and to his credit, Ray is very good at making sure Mrs. Grayson keeps up. We drive past Apple Grove and the mall, to a section of town I haven’t seen before. It’s more rural here, with some corn and some barns, and the houses are farther apart.

We pull up in front of a small brown house. Piles of wood and half-finished wood carvings of deer and bears fill the lawn. The big No
TRESPASSING
sign actually lights up. I peer out the window, not anxious to get out. “This is the place, huh?”

“Yup.”

A guy in overalls and boots, who looks to be around Ray’s age, comes out of the house, takes one look at the two cars idling in front, goes back inside, and slams the door.

“Well, he seemed nice,” I say.

“Oh, yeah,” Ray says. “Big Joe’s a real sweetheart. London to a brick, this isn’t going to go well.”

While we sit there debating what to do, Mrs. Grayson gets out of her car and starts up the walk. Ray quickly opens his door and calls out for her to go back.

“It’s all right,” she says. “I know what I’m doing. You guys stay put.”

“No disrespect, ma’am,” Ray says, “but —” “I’ll be fine, young man, don’t worry.” She turns away and marches up the porch steps.

“See? The accent gets them every time,” Ray says. “Uh-huh.”

We watch as she opens the screen door and knocks. The front door opens right away, and I can see Big Joe filling the doorway, arms crossed. I can’t hear what they’re saying but I’m getting nervous. Why are we sitting here? I reach for my phone and call Rory.

“Should we go up there?” I ask when she picks up.

“Mrs. Grayson made us promise to stay in the car. She said, and I quote, ‘I got this one.’”

“Okay, then, I guess.” I hang up and tell Ray what Rory told me.

“She gets thirty more seconds,” he says, “then I’m going out there.”

Big Joe disappears into the house. Mrs. Grayson looks very small standing alone on the porch. A few seconds later he returns to the door and hands her something. She couldn’t possibly have gotten him to give her the knife, could she? Just like that?

She turns to go, waving good-bye. He waves back and quickly shuts the door again. We all pile out of the cars to meet her. She gives us the thumbs-up, and holds out a knife with a long handle, safely tucked inside a red sheath.

“I’ll be gobsmacked!” Ray exclaims. “How did you do it?”

She smiles. “A little trick I like to call ‘The Remember Game.’ “

“The remember game?” I repeat.

She nods. “As in, remember when I used to be your kindergarten teacher? No one turns down their kindergarten teacher.”

We laugh. “Sneaky!” Amanda says, clearly impressed. “Did you know it was him all along?”

Mrs. Grayson nods. “The knife used to be an old keepsake of his father’s. He and I worked together at different community events before he passed on a few years back. I admit I was curious to see how little Joey turned out.”

“Not so little!” I say.

“And he didn’t even want any money for it?” Rory asks. She shakes her head. “And he’s coming for supper on Sunday.”

Amanda hugs her. “You’re incredible!”

“Nah. You live in this town long enough, you know things. Like the Bible you’re looking for? It doesn’t belong to anyone named WC. Those letters stand for Willow’s Church.”

“D’oh!” David says, smacking his forehead. “Anything else?”

Mrs. Grayson turns to Amanda and Leo. “Your great-grandparents’ wine. The last bottle is in the historical society. All those school trips and you guys still didn’t know that. Tsk, tsk.”

Amanda and Leo groan, but the rest of us are cheering. “That just leaves four more,” I announce. “The shawl, the trunk, the purple bottle, and the candlestick holder.”

“Sorry,” Mrs. Grayson says, “can’t help you with those.” Then, quick as a flash, she tosses the knife to me! The others yelp as I instinctively reach for it. Some deep-seated survival instinct kicks in and tells me I don’t actually
want
to catch a knife with my bare hands, so I pull them back at the last second and let it fall onto the street. It lands, not with a
clank
or a
thud,
but with barely a
plop.

“Oops,” Mrs. Grayson says, “did I forget to tell you it’s a plastic knife?”

Chapter Seventeen
 

We all wave good-bye to Mrs. Grayson from the
sidewalk in front of the historical society. I’m still a bit shaken by the knife-throwing incident, but am grateful to her for all her help. Ray has taken off, too, with the promise to keep the key and knife in his own room.

Amanda and Leo huddle a few feet away with their blackboards.

“Oh, right,” David says, “they don’t like going in there for some reason.”

“Allergies!” Leo yells out without turning around.

“Creepy stuffed raccoon!” Amanda adds.

“We’ll go in and ask about the wine,” Rory says. “C’mon, Tara.” She’s about to push open the door, when Leo says, “Don’t bother, they’re closed Fridays.”

Rory tries the door. “You’re right. How did you know that?” She looks all around the door. “It doesn’t say it anywhere.”

“The only way in is around back,” Amanda says.

Rory, David, and I exchange a look, but follow the two of them around the back of the building. Amanda points to a window about four feet off the ground. “There.”

I stare at the window. “You’re talking about breaking in? Why can’t we just wait until they’re open?”

“Trust us,” Amanda says. “It’s easier this way.”

“But Angelina told me I can’t steal anything.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth I realize I slipped up by saying her name. Amanda and I whirl around to look for David. Fortunately he’s a few yards away, trying to find something to stand on to reach the window.

“I don’t think he heard,” I whisper. “But seriously, we can’t steal it.”

“I know,” Amanda says. “It wouldn’t be stealing. You’re allowed to take something back that belongs to your family.” “Are you sure? How do you know?”

“There’s a lot of stuff in there from my relatives, and Leo’s, too. We looked into it once. All we’ll need to do is leave a note saying we’re taking it back.”

“But then whoever runs the place will know you broke in.”

“That’s okay,” she assures me. “They won’t be too surprised.”

The next thing I know, we’re all climbing on an old milk crate and squeezing through a half-opened window. We land behind the counter. Leo immediately starts sneezing and we all shush him except Amanda, who just throws him an exasperated look. “Stay low,” she whispers, crawling out into the main room. We try our best not to bump into things as we crawl behind her. “Anyone see it?” she asks.

We each face a different direction and scan the room. There are a lot of places for a wine bottle to hide among the shelves of
old vases and pictures and jars. I look closer at the jars in the hopes that one might be small and purple, but no luck there. I’m still feeling uneasy about the whole breaking-in thing — it’s bringing back bad goat memories.

“I found it!” David calls out, forgetting to whisper.

We all scramble over to him. He points to the top of the tallest bookshelf in the place. The wine bottle is on the top shelf, practically touching the ceiling.

“Figures,” Leo mumbles.

All the chairs and tables look too breakable to withstand our weight, and the bookshelf is definitely too fragile. Amanda slips off her sneakers. Without a word, Leo links his hands together. Amanda steps onto them, placing one hand on Leo’s head for balance. He lifts her high enough to grab the bottle. As she’s being lowered down, there’s a point where she and Leo are pretty much hugging so that she doesn’t fall. They both turn bright red.

Amanda reaches the floor and holds the bottle up in victory. The white label is almost completely faded except for E
LLERBY
-F
ITZPATRICK
B
REWERS
, and the outline of two apples. Amanda and Leo head off to find some paper behind the counter so they can write the note.

“Hey, look at this,” David says. He’s standing in front of a large map of the town on the wall. It must be a hundred years old. He points to a spot near the top. Rows of tiny trees fill the area. The words
A
PPLE
G
ROVE
are printed below it.

Roly traces the area with her finger. “My dad used to tell me about how even though it was only half that size by his day, the whole town used to gather there on weekends.”

“I think it’s really great that Amanda and Leo are starting it back up again,” David says. “I like going there.”

I watch David’s profile while he talks and looks at the map. I like that he says whatever he feels. He turns slightly and sees me watching him. He smiles and I quickly pick up whatever’s closest on the shelf as though that’s what I was doing all along.

“You’re pretty brave,” he says.

“Me?” I ask. “Why?”

He points at my hands. “To hold some old guy’s teeth.”

I look down and see that I am, in fact, holding a set of teeth. I quickly toss them back onto the shelf. Rory giggles. I’m wiping my hands on my shorts when the front door opens and we all freeze. We watch in horror as a short, wide woman with white hair walks in with a set of keys dangling from her wrist. She takes in the scene before her. She looks at Amanda and Leo and their blackboards. Then up at the open window. Then at me, then Rory, then David, where her gaze lingers a second longer than on the rest of us. I sneak a peek at David’s reaction, but he’s just staring at the duck-shaped birthmark.

Angelina works
here,
too?

Are any of us going to acknowledge knowing her? Is she going to acknowledge knowing
us?
I’m certainly not going to be the first to speak. At least I understand now why Amanda and Leo weren’t that worried about breaking in. Their relationship with Angelina — whatever it is — seems a lot deeper than the rest of ours.

Angelina walks over to the counter and places her large black pocketbook on top of it. “We’re closed on Fridays,” she says firmly.

Amanda holds up the wine bottle in one hand, and gives Angelina the note with the other. Without so much as a glance, Angelina tosses it on the counter and repeats, “We’re closed on Fridays.”

“We were just leaving,” Rory assures her. But before any of us can move, the door opens again. This time it’s a very pregnant woman. She’s holding something wrapped up in a few layers of tissue paper. She places it on the counter in front of Angelina.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says. “But I was hoping you might have a use for this? I tried to bring it to the secondhand store in the alley, but it was closed down.”

I have to force myself not to look at Rory or Amanda and Leo.

“See,” David says triumphantly.

“Weren’t you all just leaving?” Angelina asks, her voice raised.

The woman unwraps the object and places it on the counter. The five of us gasp. It’s the candlestick holder in the shape of a fish!

“I bought this at a garage sale last year,” she says. “I don’t know if it counts as
historical,
but maybe there’s a place for it here?”

“How much you looking for?” Angelina asks, barely glancing down at it.

“Fifty dollars?”

“I’ll give you twenty,” Angelina says.

I hurry over to the woman’s side. “I’ll give you twenty-five!”

The woman looks at me in confusion. “You want to buy this?”

I nod. “I, um, collect them?”

“You collect fish-shaped candlestick holders?”

David steps in. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things people collect. They have a set of fake teeth here. Like, the real ones, not plastic ones with fangs.”

“Thirty,” Angelina offers.

She’s driving up the price on me! I want to glare at her, but I don’t dare.

“Thirty-five,” I say.

Angelina waves it away. “Fine, take it.”

I reach into my sock for the money.

“I was really hoping for fifty,” the woman says. “My husband’s overseas and with the baby coming, well, it’s a little tough.”

Fifty dollars would be a really big chunk to give away. “Um, is there something we could maybe do for you, to make up the difference? Like, carry your groceries? Or anything else you can’t do because of …” I trail off. It doesn’t seem polite to say
because of your huge belly.
But she gets the drift.

“Well, there are a few things around the house I could use help with. But I don’t know you.” She turns to Angelina. “Do you know these kids? Can you vouch for them?”

Angelina rolls her eyes. “I’ll vouch.”

“All right.” The woman takes a wrinkled receipt out of her pocketbook and hands it to me with a pen. “My name’s Carolyn. I live in the town house around the corner. If you write your phone number on there, I’ll call you to set something up.”

I write my number, then hand her the card and the thirty-five dollars. She leaves the candlestick on the counter. Rory swiftly picks it up and wraps it in the paper.

“Um, thanks for your help,” David says to Angelina.

All she says in response? “We’re closed on Fridays.”

David gives her a strange look. The rest of us grab various parts of him and drag him toward the door. “That was nice of her to vouch for us,” he says as we push him onto the sidewalk. “I mean, after we broke in and all.”

No one replies.

“Did you guys see her cheek? She should get that thing removed. It looks like a duck!”

At that, we all crack up. Yup, David calls it like he sees it. At least Angelina didn’t seem angry that the others are obviously helping me find the things on her list. That’s one less thing to worry about.

I call Ray to come pick us up. He’s very surprised to see the candlestick holder. From the backseat Rory says, “Hey, Ray, thanks for protecting us from Big Joe and his plastic knife before.”

“Hey,” Ray says, “I know I’m no Jake Harrison, the swashbuckling hero of all teendom, but I don’t mess around when lives are at stake.”

“Oh, Rory knows you’re no Jake!” David says. “Right, Rory?”

“No comment,” she replies.

I turn around from the front seat. “Wait, do you like Jake Harrison, or don’t you?”

The others laugh. Even Ray. “We’re just friends,” Rory says. My eyes pop out of my head. “Friends? Like, you
know
him?”

“We all do,” Amanda says.

“I don’t,” David says. I can’t tell, but he almost sounds a little jealous.

“How do you know him?” I ask, breathless. “Are you guys kidding me?”

“Emily didn’t tell you?” Rory asks. “Jake filmed
Playing It Cool
here last year.”

My jaw falls open. “Are you for real? The one that’s opening in August?” How could Emily have left that out?

“They filmed it at our school,” Rory says. “We got to be extras in the movie.”

“Jake and Rory had a very special relationship,” Leo says, elbowing her.

Rory elbows him back. “Yeah, one based on him laughing at me all the time.”

“Rory,” Amanda says, “a movie star doesn’t e-mail you every week because he likes laughing at you.”

Rory blushes.

I can’t believe it! Rory and Jake Harrison! I don’t know which is crazier, Angelina’s now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t collectibles store, or
this
news!

David has to do some bar mitzvah practicing and the others have to study for their last final exams next week, so we call it a day and make a plan to go over to the church tomorrow morning.

Ray drops me back at the house, then goes off to practice his American accent with his mates down at the pub. Aunt Bethany and Uncle Roger are still out. Emily is going to be home in a few minutes, but she always goes straight into the kitchen for a snack first. That will give me a solid ten minutes to return the comic before I need to worry about her coming in.

I grab the comic from my suitcase and run down the hall. My ears are locked in on even the smallest sound. I push open the Collectibles Room and make a beeline for the comics. I drop
The Fantastic Four
into one of the folders and push the bin back on the shelf. Twenty seconds later I’m back in the bedroom. Thirty seconds after that, Emily walks in and catches me dancing around the room.

“At least someone’s in a good mood,” she says, tossing her book bag on the bed. It falls onto the floor and she steps right over it.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, still too euphoric to stop smiling.

“I got a ninety-nine on my math final,” she says, a hollow sound to her voice.

“That’s great!”

She glares at me. “I missed a really easy question, which makes it even worse.”

“You’re upset because you got a ninety-nine?”

She sighs. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. No offense.”

“None taken.” Sort of. “Hey, not to change the subject, but why didn’t you tell me Jake Harrison made a movie in Willow Falls? And about him and Rory?”

“Oh, I didn’t? Yeah, he filmed a movie here and he and Rory are friends.”

“Yeah, thanks, got that now.”

She kicks her book bag and says, “Want to go for a walk? I’m not really allowed to wander by myself yet.”

“Sure,” I reply, surprised. Every other day after school she’s
had one activity or another. We haven’t actually left the house together since my arrival.

“Where do you want to go?” I ask as we head out the front door.

“Let’s just walk through the neighborhood,” she says.

We walk for a while through the streets, mostly in areas I haven’t explored on the bike before. Emily is quiet for most of the time but perks up when we turn into an area with some smaller houses. She chatters about school and the other Emilys, and about how much fun the beach will be, and how she’s going to miss Ray when his visa’s up and he goes back to Australia at the end of the summer. She slows down as we approach a house with a teenage boy washing a dog out front. She keeps glancing over at him shyly, while pretending not to be. The boy is a bit plump, with a baseball cap pushed half over his eyes. The dog shakes some water off his coat and the boy tilts his head back to avoid being splashed in the face. He catches sight of us.

Emily tries to speed up, but he’s already calling out to her. “Hey,” he says, “aren’t you the kid who lives in that big house? The one who always orders two large pizzas with extra cheese on ’em?”

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