Andi Unexpected (11 page)

Colin rode his bike alongside mine
. “Where are we going?”

“The university library. If Number Three paid for my great-grandfather to go to college, then maybe they have a record of it in their archives.”

“That’s a great idea, Andi!” Colin pedaled faster.

The library was an enormous building with huge white pillars in front. Colin and I left our bikes at the side of the building and ran up the steps to the front door. Even though it was just an hour since we’d rode through campus, the place now seemed deserted. The Endless Summer Festival would begin at 6:00 p.m. that night.

I yanked the door handle. It didn’t budge.

“It’s closed.” Colin squinted at a nearby sign. “This sign says it closes at 4:30 p.m. on Fridays during the
summer. We just missed it.” He frowned. “And because of the festival, it’s closed all weekend and won’t reopen again until Monday morning at 9 a.m.”

My shoulders drooped. I was certain there’d be another clue about Andora in the library.

“Maybe Amelie can talk to the librarian on Monday and find out about Patterson’s tuition?” Colin suggested.

“That’s three days from now,” I said. My gaze wandered across the grounds. The university library stood across The Green from Whit Hall, where Dr. Girard’s office was located.

Suddenly the door to Whit Hall opened, and Dr. Girard stepped outside. I grabbed Colin’s arm.

“Get down!” I hissed, pulling him behind the library’s metal book drop.

Colin tried to peek around the side of the container. “What is it?”

“Dr. Girard. He just came out of Whit.” I slowly poked my head out. Not seeing anyone, I stood up. “I think he’s gone.”

Colin followed me down the library steps. “Why did we hide from him?”

“He’s still upset that Amelie wouldn’t sign that contract, and I don’t want him to try talking me into it right now.” I frowned. “He’s really set on writing that book. When I was in his office on Sunday, I heard him talking to his agent on the phone. He said he’d write a proposal for her by the end …” My mouth fell open.

Colin stared at me. “What? What is it?”

“The proposal. If we could see it, then we’d know what Dr. Girard is planning to do with Andora’s story.”
My pulse quickened. “When Dr. Girard’s secretary showed up on Sunday, he asked her to finish working on the book proposal before she leaves on vacation—today. It has to be the same proposal. And maybe it’s sitting on her desk right now.”

Colin adjusted his glass. “Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

I nodded. “We have to get inside that office.”

Colin was a few paces behind me as I crept around Whit Hall to the window of the workroom in the History Department.

“Andi,” he whispered, “maybe we shouldn’t be doing this?”

“Let’s just see if the window is still unlocked. If it’s locked, we’ll head straight home.”

I removed the screen and pushed up on the window. It silently slid open.

“Now what do we do?” Colin asked.

I bit my lip. “I think that means we go in.”

Colin hesitated. “That’s breaking and entering.”

“Technically … but how else are we going to see the proposal?” I took off my backpack. “Hold this. You stay here and keep watch. I’m going in.”

“Andi …”

I hoisted myself onto the windowsill. I got only as far as my stomach and then dangled there. “Give me a boost.”

Colin sighed and pushed the bottoms of my sneakers. I pulled myself the rest of the way inside by holding on to the edge of the worktable below the window. I slid across the tabletop and sent a pair of scissors and a stapler flying. As I hit the floor of the workroom, I
froze and waited to hear if anyone had heard all of the noise I’d just made.

The rest of the office was silent.

I stuck my head out the window and whispered, “All clear.”

“Hurry up.”

“Okay.” I pulled my head back inside the room. The door to the workroom was closed. Slowly, I opened it. The hallway and the outer office were dark. I headed straight for the secretary’s desk. There was just enough light streaming in from the window to see that her desktop was clear. Not that I expected the proposal to be sitting on her keyboard, but it would have been nice. I opened a few drawers and found a stash of candy that would give any dentist a heart attack and an amazing number of stress balls. No proposal.

On the wall across from her desk were mailboxes for all of the professors in the department. Dr. Girard’s box was empty, but there was a thick manila envelope lying in the out-box.

“Andi!” Colin called, his voice muffled by the distance. “Hurry up!”

I carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the first page.
Book Proposal
it said across the top. I’d found it. I took the envelope back to the secretary’s desk and pulled out all of the sheets of paper. The proposed title of the book was “Little Girl Lost.”

I flipped through the pages, scanning for Andora’s name. I found it on the fourth page. “Andora Boggs was a poor girl born in a time of poverty—”

“Andi!” Colin’s cry sounded more desperate.

I hurried back to the workroom. “What is it?”

“Andi, we need to leave. Someone could come. And I have no good reason to be lurking outside this open window on a Friday evening.”

I pointed to the page. “This is where he talks about Andora.”

“Andi …”

“Okay, okay. Let me make a copy of it.” I turned on the copy machine, and hit the Copy button. After the copier was finished, I returned the original page about Andora to where it belonged in the stack of pages, put everything back inside the manila envelope, and ran the envelope to the outbox in the outer office.

Back in the workroom, I folded my photocopy and stuck it in my shorts pocket before climbing onto the worktable. I stuck my feet out the window and got ready to jump down.

“Hey, what are you doing?” a gruff voice shouted as I hit the ground. Colin helped me to my feet as a university security guard ran toward us.

The security guard then made us walk our bikes to his office in the guardhouse near the main entrance of campus. We waited there for Amelie to pick us up. At least I’d managed to convince him to call Amelie instead of the police.

Amelie stomped into the guardhouse fifteen minutes later. “Andora Boggs, I can’t believe you broke into a building!”

“I caught her red-handed,” the security guard said.

“Thank you, Wally. And thank you for not filing a report.”

He smiled at her and scowled at Colin and me. “You’re lucky your aunt is such a nice lady, or you’d
be at the police station right now facing charges for criminal trespass.”

Amelie wrapped an arm around Colin’s and my shoulders. “Load your bikes into the back of my Jeep. We’re going home.”

Amelie was silent during the drive back to Dunlap Avenue.

Colin and I sat perfectly still in the backseat.

Amelie parked the Jeep in the driveway. Colin got out and removed the bikes from the back. I went to help him. My aunt folded her arms. “Colin, it’s time for you to go home.” She didn’t have to ask him twice. He waved at me and ran his bike across the yard.

Bethany stood on the front porch with her arms wrapped around her waist, watching us.

Amelie closed her eyes for a moment. “You’ve taken this Andora thing too far. You can’t break into someone’s office. And this is the second time you’ve done it in a week! What if Dr. Girard found out?”

I dropped my head. “I’m sorry, Amelie.”

“You’re grounded, too. Tomorrow is the second day of the neighborhood garage sale, and you can help with that because you made a commitment. But for the next week, you’re not going anywhere else.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

“Don’t argue with me. I see I’ve let you girls think I’m just your pal, but I’m your parent now. Like it or not, I’m going to start acting like it. Now go inside.”

I ran up the steps, past my sister, and into the house.

That night was my first night sleeping in my attic bedroom. It would have been a happier occasion if I didn’t feel so terrible about being grounded. I sat in the middle of my bed with Mr. Rochester purring in my lap. I read and re-read the page that I’d copied from Dr. Girard’s book proposal. It didn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know, except for the last line: “Andora Boggs is still alive.” I stared at it.

If Andora didn’t die, then what happened to her?

The ladder leading up to my room creaked, and Bethany’s head appeared in the opening.

I stuck the sheet of paper under my pillow.

“Hey,” Bethany said.

I stroked Mr. Rochester’s back. “Hey.”

“So, you’re grounded.” Bethany smiled. “It’s your first time. How does it feel?”

“Crummy.”

“Well as someone who’s had a lot of grounding experience, I say enjoy it. It’s not that bad, and I bet it will give you a lot of time to read more about the Great Depression.”

I grunted.

“It’s kind of nice to have you get in trouble for once. Mom and Dad were always grounding me, but they never grounded you. You were their perfect child.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

She shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “You were.” She crossed the room and sat on my desk chair. Mr. Rochester jumped off my lap and ran to hers.

I was going to argue with her some more but then she changed the subject, “Zane’s not talking to me
anymore. That’s why I got mad when you asked about him.”

“Why not?”

She ran her fingers through Mr. Rochester’s fur. “He said it’s too hard to keep a friendship, or whatever we had, with me being so far away. I’ve texted him a bunch of times, but he hasn’t texted back.” She bit her lip. “Now I’m like one of those desperate girls who’s been dumped.”

I turned and set my feet on the floor. “It’s his loss. He was always a jerk, if you ask me.”

Bethany blinked away tears. “He was nice to me after Mom and Dad died.”

I paused then said, “I miss Mom and Dad too.”

She frowned. “I know that.”

“You do?” I raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t think I do?”

I twisted my mouth. “I heard you tell Bergita that I don’t miss them.” She glowered at me, but I continued anyway. “And I wasn’t their favorite child either. How many times did I have to hear them rave about your art?”

“Maybe.”

“You didn’t feel the same pressure that I felt with Mom and Dad. I was always trying to be like them. You never worried about that.”

She watched me for a moment. “I guess I never thought of it that way.” She stood and Mr. Rochester jumped to the floor. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re home and I’m glad I didn’t have to use my portion of the garage sale money to bail you out of jail.”

“Thanks.”

She started down the ladder and then stopped with her head and shoulders still inside the room. “I love the attic room, by the way. It’s really cool.” She pointed at the periodic table poster hanging over my desk. “And that looks good there.”

“Thanks.” I swallowed. “And thanks for your help with the garage sale.”

She shrugged. “I got my texting back. Zane’s not the only person in the world that I can text.” She climbed the rest of the way down.

I woke up in the attic
with Mr. Rochester asleep on my head. I stretched and knocked my patchwork quilt to the floor. For the first time since the move, I didn’t have that uneasy feeling of waking up in an unfamiliar place. The attic had become my bedroom. Amelie’s house had become my home.

And then I remembered that I was grounded.

I reached over to my nightstand and picked up the little elephant block that I kept there. I stared at it and thought about what I’d learned from Miss Addy yesterday and our adventure on campus.

I jumped off the bed, walked over to my desk, and pulled open the middle drawer. Most of my things were still down in Bethany’s room, so only Miss Addy’s journal was in there.

I flipped through the pages. The red leather was so
soft that it felt like cloth. The onionskin pages were a light gray, and some of them clung together. I separated them as gently as I could. The events in the journal spanned from January to December 1933, just one year in the life of a Killdeer girl. I could hardly wait to read it.

“Andi! Are you up?” Amelie’s groggy voice floated through the hatch.

“Yeah,” I called back.

“Well, get down here!”

The journal would have to wait. I returned it to my desk and shut the drawer.

I looked down the ladder at Amelie who was still wearing her pajamas. Her long hair was up in a messy knot on top of her head like a sumo wrestler. She yawned. “Good, you’re awake. You take the first shift today.” She rubbed her eyes. “My word, it’s way too early.”

I gave a sigh of relief that she didn’t say anything more about last night.

Ten minutes later, I ran outside and gasped. It was only eight in the morning, and police officers were adjusting barricades on either end of the road to stop the traffic. Food vendors in white trailers sold Indian fry bread, sausage sandwiches, and cotton candy. Homeowners up and down the street made final touches to their displays. The sale would officially start at nine, but customers were already wandering up and down the street.

I grabbed a muffin and a cup of lemonade from a free breakfast table that Bergita had set up in her front
yard. And then I headed to our garage. Amelie had already opened the door for me. I had until noon to convince people to buy things they didn’t really need. Then Amelie would take over.

I pulled an old dress form out onto the driveway as Amelie stumbled out of the house and started walking toward campus for the Endless Summer Festival. She would be sitting at the literary magazine table this morning. Bethany, dressed for a fashion shoot in a mini skirt and flowered top, followed her. Her art class instructor had invited Bethany to sit at the Art Department’s table with some of her work on display.

After they were gone, I sat on a lawn chair in the driveway, surrounded by decades of my family’s possessions. Even though they didn’t really belong to me, a part of me felt funny seeing them go. They’d been my constant companions over the last couple of weeks. I’d discovered them in unmarked boxes, sorted them, cleaned them, helped Bethany price them, and now I watched them drive away in the back of a minivan or the bed of a pickup truck.

Colin waved from his yard where he was helping Bergita add some last-minute touches to their display. Jackson surveyed their progress from the porch. Their setup really was impressive.

Colin ran over to me, waving the casebook. “I found it.”

I gave a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness. Where was it?”

He blushed. “Under my bed.” He handed it to me. “You keep it from now on. Is Amelie still mad?”

“She seemed better this morning, but I’m grounded.”

Colin grimaced. “Sorry.”

“What about you?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t think Amelie told Bergita what happened.”

I held the casebook to my chest. “I guess that’s good news.”

Colin opened his mouth as if to say something more, but Bergita yelled, “Colin, get over here and help me move these bowling balls!”

By ten o’clock, I’d sold a chest of drawers, two boxes of wire hangers, three football trophies, and a life-sized stuffed unicorn. I folded the five-dollar bill from my last sale and slipped it into the hot pink fanny pack I was using as a money belt. I spotted Mr. Finnigan thumbing through our collection of record albums. I zipped the fanny pack closed and walked up behind him. “Looking for something to add to the museum?”

Mr. Finnigan jumped.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Finnigan. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He patted his chest. “I’m all right.” He pulled a white handkerchief out of his back pants pocket and dabbed his sweaty forehead.

“Can I help you find something?”

“No, no, just looking. Amelie mentioned the garage sale to me. So I came by to see it for myself.” He looked from the yards littered with wares to the food vendors parked in the middle of the street. “I must say, your aunt didn’t exaggerate.”

I grinned. An elderly couple approached the garage
and looked at a box of broken china with interest. I started to walk toward them.

Mr. Finnigan coughed. “Excuse me, Andi. Do you still have Miss Addy’s journal?”

Distracted, I looked back toward the couple who was now drifting away from the broken china. If I didn’t grab them now, I would lose the sale. “Yes.”

“And it’s safe?”

I made a face. “Sure. It’s up in my room.”

He smiled at me. “Good, good. It’s so important to Miss Addy. I’d hate for it to get lost.”

“I won’t lose it,” I said firmly, still watching the couple out of the corner of my eye.

“Of course, you won’t.” He dabbed his forehead again. “Well, I must be off. The museum is open today. I’m expecting some visitors from the festival to drop by.”

I nodded and hurried over to the elderly couple. “Three dollars for the whole box,” I said.

That got their attention.

Amelie settled into the lawn chair on the driveway promptly at noon. I handed her the fanny pack, and she opened it with surprise. “You made a killing! Are you sure you want to be a scientist and not a business mogul?”

“I even sold the broken china,” I said proudly.

She grinned. “Not bad for someone who’s grounded.”

I relaxed. She wasn’t mad anymore.

I ran into the house and up the ladder into my attic
room. Even if I was grounded, I could still read Miss Addy’s journal. And Mr. Finnigan’s question had made me nervous about it. I pulled open the middle desk drawer.

The journal was gone.