Shadowed Summer (10 page)

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Authors: Saundra Mitchell

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Social Issues, #Emotions & Feelings, #Friendship

BOOK: Shadowed Summer
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I heard them moving around inside and saw lights go on room by room. I heard them laughing, too. My cheeks burned twice, once with the sunburn and then with an embarrassed flush.

It seemed stupid now, calling 911 over a bed full of rocks, but I couldn’t undo it.

Rennie Delancie shot me a smile when I caught him hanging off his front porch for a look. I wondered if he’d ever felt puny like this when the sheriff came to his door.

My heart sank when I saw headlights coming down our street. The last thing I needed was more police. They didn’t send that many for Rennie, and he set off homemade bombs on a regular basis.

I was relieved and horrified when I heard a familiar crunchy squeak of brakes, then saw my daddy running up the walk.

Babbling, I ran into him the same time he ran into me, and I hid my face in his shirt. Everything came out in a rush, how somebody must have gotten into the house to destroy my room and how I’d hidden in his closet until the police came.

Daddy stepped back, his hands on my arms as he looked me over. “Are you hurt?”

“No, sir.” I shook my head, gulping humid breaths that got more ragged with each pull. It didn’t occur to me until then that I hadn’t called him.

“Stay put,” he said, and went inside to talk to the police. Sinking down in our swing, I wrapped my arms around myself, scuffing the porch with my toes until I could hear the police coming down the stairs again.

“Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go through for a prank,” the trooper said.

Deputy Wood laughed. “Well, what the hell else does Rennie have to do?”

Stung, I cooled my cheeks with my cold hands. I
knew
I should have just called Collette and had her help me clean up.

The police managed to plaster on sincere looks by the time they got to the door.

Deputy Wood bent down to talk to me face to face. “We checked everything out from top to bottom, darlin’, and there’s nobody in there now.”

Minding my manners, I said, “Thank you.”

“Do you know anybody who’d want to pull your leg?” Deputy Wood glanced at the trooper, who unfolded a piece of paper.

“No, sir,” I said, straining to see what the trooper had.

Reassuring me, Deputy Wood said, “Nobody’s gonna be in real big trouble, but breaking into houses is serious business. Even if it was just a joke.”

Baffled, I shook my head again. Only Collette would care enough to prank me, and she couldn’t be on Ben’s back stoop and filling my bed with rocks at the same time. “I can’t think of anybody, sir.”

“You don’t think Rennie Delancie might have come over here?”

I shook my head. “No. Why would he?”

“Why would anybody?” Deputy Wood asked.

The trooper smoothed the paper in his hand and held it out to me. “We found this; maybe you recognize that handwriting?”

Glancing over the note, I almost threw up in my lap. I recognized the tiny block letters, and I recognized the message, too.

Where y’at, Iris?

I didn’t need my hands to cool my face anymore, but what could I say? “Yessir, I know who wrote that—Elijah Landry did. A dead boy I raised up on accident is stalking me. No, sir, I do
not
need a straightjacket, thank you.”

Rasping apologetically, I said, “I don’t know it. I’m sorry.”

Deputy Wood shook his head slightly, then stood up. “You let me know if you hear something.”

After the police left, Daddy sighed. “I reckon we have a mess to clean up.”

“I guess so.”

Still, I lagged so he could go ahead of me. If there were any more surprises up there, I wanted him to find them first.

The next day, I needed an RC and some peace. I scrounged a dollar from Daddy’s change jar, mostly in nickels and dimes. I figured he’d miss the quarters. With that and the last of my allowance, I waded through sticky heat to the Red Stripe.

Up on the main drag, a couple of boys were playing soccer in the street with a time-smoothed basketball. The ball gave a defeated sigh, too hopeless to echo like the boys’ voices did. They yelled and called each other names, starting with “pansy” and working their way up until they saw me.

They wore the same faces my neighbors had when they’d been watching the police on my doorstep the night before. No more throwing rocks; no, they were interested now.

They mumbled when I passed, their murmurs a haze of gnats around my head.

“S’up, Iris?”

“Where y’at?”

I kept my attention on the pavement in front of me. At the faded splash of red on the curb, I ducked into the Red Stripe and headed straight for the coolers in the back. I was pulling out a soda when a hand fell on my shoulder.

Startled, I yelped.

“Sorry,” Ben said, “I thought you heard me.”

“It’s all right.”

Ben leaned against the next cooler over. “Still kinda jumpy about last night?”

“What about it?” Sliding open the door, I studied all the bottles. I figured if I seemed busy, maybe he’d leave me alone.

Ben frowned. “With the police and all.”

I dropped my change on the counter and tried to escape. Any other time, I could buy a soda in peace and take it home without talking to anybody once. The Ondine grapevine was working full-time, though, because Collette flew up on me as soon as I got outside.

She dug her nails into my arm and hauled me around the building. “What happened? I wanted to call last night, but Mama told me to let it be!”

“Dang, Collette, leave some skin,” I said. I peeled her claws out of my arm, then groaned when I saw Ben come out the back.

He heaved a bundle of boxes into the trash, then wiped his hands on his apron. When he saw us, he brightened, leaning over quick to shove a block in the back door.

A perfume of spoiled milk and hot, ripe cantaloupe tainted the air. There were probably worse things in the world to smell than a grocery’s Dumpster, but I couldn’t think of any right then.

“Are you hiding from us?” Collette asked me.

“No,” I said, and raised my bag. “I just wanted to drink this before it got hot.”

Everything went quiet, except for the cicadas. Collette shot a dubious look in Ben’s direction. “So drink it already. Nikki was all up in the diner this morning saying you got a death threat and the FBI was probably gonna come, and all I could do was go, ‘Well you don’t know everything, so keep your mouth shut.’ ”

I’d meant to keep the note Elijah had written a secret. My chest felt full of cold lead weights when I thought about it. Nikki lived way out in the trailer park—if she knew enough to get it
that
wrong, I figured I should clear it up for Collette, anyway. Then, if she got to punching anybody, at least it would be over the truth.

“I don’t want y’all to yell at me,” I said.

“Why would we yell?” Collette asked.

Ben shook his head. “We won’t. I won’t.”

“I’m just saying, promise.”

Exasperated, Collette swept her fingers across her chest. “There.”

Wrapping both hands around my soda, I dragged my lip through my teeth and made myself say it. “It was Elijah.”

Collette ticked her head forward. “ ’Scuse me?”

“He was in my house. He filled my bed with rocks and tore everything all up.” Hunching my shoulders up to my ears, I looked from Ben to Collette. “He left a note, too. All it said was, ‘Where y’at Iris?’ so I knew it was him.”

“The police did not come to your house over a ghost!”

“See?” I told Ben.

“I’m not yelling,” Collette insisted. “I’m just talking loud.”

“You still got the note?” Ben sounded hopeful.

I shook my head. “The police took it.”

“Course they did,” Collette said.

Taking a slug of my soda, I wheezed when the bubbles hit the back of my throat just right to make my nose burn. “They did. We’ve been looking for Elijah all summer. How come you don’t believe me?”

“Maybe ’cause it’s just playing.” She took my soda for a drink. “Nothing came up out of the lake when we called, did it?”

I could have stood stark naked in the street and felt less bare than I did right then. How funny was it, how awful, that Collette had stopped believing right when something real finally happened? She had to believe me, and I figured the only way to get that was to tell the whole truth, no matter how bad it made me look.

“I lied about the lake.”

Ben stared at me. “How’s that?”

“I pushed, on the witchboard.”

“Aw, Iris,” he said.

Ashamed, I slumped against the wall. Splaying my arms, I looked toward the sky. They probably weren’t gonna give me any Hail Marys, but I had to confess.

“I saw him in the graveyard that first time; that’s true. And he moved my spellbook and wrote in it when I wasn’t even home. There was a dream and this. But the witchboard wasn’t working, and y’all wanted it to, so I pushed. All up till the end; then he did the last part. I’m not lying about anything else. I swear to Mary and Jesus and God and everybody.”

“What dream?” Collette asked. Like she couldn’t help herself. Or maybe like she believed me.

Peeling the label off the bottle, I stared at it instead of up at them. “I followed a butterfly down to the river, and when I got there, he was skipping rocks, smiling at me.”

Collette tugged my sleeve. “Did he say anything?”

“ ‘Where y’at?’ ” I murmured, suddenly full of cold.

“That’s all?”

I closed my eyes and nodded. I didn’t know how to make them understand that that one little question was enough.

When Ben got done at the store, he and Collette invaded my house.

“Most everything’s out back,” I said, shooing them off the porch. I had to untie the trash can lids to give them a look at my broken picture frames and shredded posters.

Picking up one of my fractured ballerinas, Collette frowned. “You love this one.”

I nodded. Looking at all my things again in daylight, I wasn’t so much scared as hurt. He’d smashed them all up for nothing, for spite.

A twitch went up my spine when I heard rocks whispering and chittering together. Turning, I watched Ben sift his fingers through the wheelbarrow’s bin.

“That’s them,” I said. I put a hand on Ben’s to stay him, to quiet those stones.

Collette picked one up, turning it over. It was nothing special, just a gray old river rock worn smooth by water. She tossed it back in the pile and said, “Go get your spellbook. I wanna see what he wrote.”

“My daddy’s sleeping,” I said, hoping that would be the end of it.

“We know,” Collette said. “We’ll wait out here.”

She didn’t move; I didn’t move. Not until Ben ran his fingers through the stones again. The slick hiss and click drove me right inside. I tiptoed up the stairs and clutched the book to my chest as I came back down, one foot on each step, as slow as I could.

Even though I was relieved to have all the truth out, I had a hint of heartsickness over it. For a while, just a while, Elijah had been all mine.

As soon as I stepped off the porch, they scrambled around me. Ben leaned over my shoulder, and Collette hung on my arm, waiting eagerly to see my proof.

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