SummerHill Secrets, Volume 2 (40 page)

But Abednego was another story. He’d been known to wander off as far away as the highway, clear to the east end of SummerHill Lane. I didn’t want to think about my cat running that direction. Not with the rain continuing to pour down in buckets.

But I had to admit, I was worried something awful about Abednego being gone this long. Truly worried!

I don’t happen to swallow all that stuff about cats having nine lives. People get carried away with notions sometimes, I think. But if the nine-lives thing were really true, I guess I’d have had higher hopes of Abednego’s return.

Yet I continued to stare out my second-floor window into the twilight, missing my fat black cat. My deep affection for him kept me standing there, motionless, remembering all the years spent with the spunkiest cat in all of SummerHill.

Finally I forced myself away from the rain-streaked window. It wasn’t that I was giving up on finding him. The night was just so wet and cold. Too blustery to go searching the countryside again. Even Mom had put her foot down about my going back out.

But I had a plan. A pure genius strategy to help locate Abednego. I sat at my desk with pen and paper, beginning to outline my idea.

Soon I was lost in thought when someone knocked softly on my bedroom door. “Say the secret slogan,” I said.

Dad peeked his head in. “Hey, honeybunch.”

“That’s not a password,” I replied.

“Close?” He shrugged and cocked his head to one side.

“Not even.” I laughed and waved him in.

Opening the door wider, he moseyed inside. He stood near my antique dresser, frowning cautiously. “How’re you doing, kiddo?”

Quickly, I looked away.

“You’re upset,” he said, coming over.

“Abednego’s disappeared,” I blurted. “I’m worried sick.”

“Of course you are, honey. Your cats mean a lot to you.”

Shadrach, Meshach, and Lily White perked up and looked at Dad as if they’d heard their own names. I had to smile, wondering what went through those furry little heads at a time like this, with Big Brother lost in the night somewhere.

Dad stood in the middle of the room, eyes soft and gentle. For a moment I thought I saw them glisten. “I wanted to come up and say thanks for helping your mother this afternoon. And for taking all those pictures.”

I felt almost shy. “It was a great retirement party, Dad. I was glad to help out.”

He shook his head as he sat at the foot of my bed. “I’m having second thoughts.”

“About retirement?”

That got a chuckle. “No…no, not at all. This old man’s eager and ready for a change of pace.”

“And scenery, too?” I added quickly, thinking of my parents’ Costa Rica trip.

He looked at me with compassionate eyes. “I’m wondering if leaving you with Miss Spindler is the right thing,” he began again. “Maybe we should postpone the trip until this summer and go together, as a family.”

“I’ll be fine, Dad. Miss Spindler’s looking forward to having someone around. I’ll keep her company.”

He nodded as if reevaluating the idea. “And you’ll be there only a short time,” he admitted.

“Three days.”
Enough time to do some snooping
, I thought.

“Then it’s settled,” he said. “When your brother arrives home, he’ll be here for you until we return.”

I went to him and offered a hug. “I’m not a child anymore, Dad. You don’t have to worry.”

He got up and walked to the door, smiling. “Well, I’m glad we had this little talk.”

“Me too. Old Hawk Eyes and I will get along okay.”

That’s when he laughed so loud Mom came and poked her head in the room, too. I didn’t feel the need to rehearse the “Old Hawk Eyes” issue again.

“What’s so funny?” She leaned against the doorframe.

I glanced at Dad, deciding it was up to him to tell her. He was cool that way—truly understood the need for appropriate nicknames.

The phone rang, and I was more than happy to excuse myself, speeding down the hall to get it.

“Hanson residence,” I answered. “Merry speaking.”

“Merry
speaking
? When did you change your name?”

I laughed. “Oh, it’s
you
.”

“So how’s the feline freak?” Skip asked.

I could almost visualize my older brother’s straight face. He wasn’t joking, not one bit. Honestly, he believed that I was cat crazy.

“You’ll probably be glad to hear that I’m short one cat at the moment,” I informed him.

“Well, that
is
good news.” He chortled a bit and then continued. “Let me guess…Abednego got run over by an Amish buggy.”

“Skip Hanson!”

“Hey…just kidding. But it
is
Abednego that’s missing, right?”

“You know my cats pretty well,” I said but didn’t want to continue this line of conversation. “So…” I paused. “Why’d you really call?”

“Just checking up on my little Merry” came the saucy reply.

“Aw, how sweet,” I said sarcastically.

“Seriously,” he said, “how’s school? Sophomore year still treating you okay?”

“Sure, what’s left of it. The school year’s nearly over, remember?”

“Yes, well…I hear that you and our nosy neighbor are planning an extended sleepover.
That
should be interesting.”

I had to laugh. Skip was so clever with words, and I honestly missed having him around. “If you promise to keep something quiet, I’ll tell you a secret.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding.” He laughed. “This is definitely a first.”

“Hush. If you keep it up, I won’t tell you a thing.”

“I’m all ears.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay…here goes. I’m hoping to solve a mystery while I’m over at Old Hawk Eyes’ place.”

He was snorting now. “Let me guess. You’re going to check out her high-powered telescope, right?”

“Count on me.”

“My sister, the super sleuth,” he teased.

“I’m approaching adulthood, I’ll have you know. In case you forgot, I’m going to be sixteen and a half in three days…April twenty-second.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Nobody celebrates midyear birthdays.”

“Well,
I
do.”

“Figures.”

I ignored his flippant response. We talked a few more minutes before he asked to speak to Mom. “I’ll see you next Thursday afternoon,” he added.

“Remember, now—what you promised?” I reminded him of our secret.

“Won’t breathe a word,” he replied. “But I’ll want a full report of your findings the minute I get home.”

“Deal.”

“ ’Bye, little girl,” he said.

If Mom hadn’t suddenly come into the hall, I probably would’ve chewed him out for yet another “little girl” comment. Enough was enough.

Still, I couldn’t wait for Skip to come home. Especially now that he showed signs of wanting to be a true confidant, someone trustworthy to share in the results of my Spindler visit.

I handed the phone to Mom and headed back to my room and to my three remaining cats. Settling down on my bed, I thought of my brother’s return home. Actually, I could hardly wait to see him again. Mainly because it seemed like such a long time since Christmas break—almost four months!

But Skip wasn’t the only one coming home. Levi Zook—Rachel’s brother—was, too. Truth was, I’d tried
not
to think of Levi’s return. He liked me. Maybe too much.

Scooting off the bed, I went to my desk to think through my plan to locate my cat—the project I’d started before Dad knocked on my door. It would never do to sit around and wonder about Levi, anyway. He’d be here soon enough.

As for Jonathan Klein, the sometime object of my affections, he and I weren’t exactly on the best terms lately, which was one-hundred-percent fine with me.

I picked up my pencil and made several attempts to create a lost-cat poster. But I was stuck for creative ideas—all because thoughts of Levi Zook had crowded into my brain.

“Abednego’s missing,” I told my girl friends after church the next day.

“Again?” Chelsea Davis asked, frowning. “Does he ever stay home?”

She
would
say that. After all, Abednego was known for disappearing off and on.

I sighed. “Actually, he got scared yesterday during that horrible storm.”

“Oh, I remember,” said Ashley Horton, our pastor’s daughter, wide-eyed and obviously worried.

Lissa Vyner blinked her sad blue eyes at me. “Can we help?” she asked softly.

I nodded. “Maybe. I sorta thought of a plan.”

“Like what?” asked Ashley.

“Well, it didn’t turn out to be much, really,” I said.

“C’mon, Mer,
tell
us. We’re your closest friends,” Chelsea insisted.

So I told them. I described how I’d sat at my desk last night till close to midnight, halfway waiting for Abednego to wander home a drenched and frightened ball of fur, and halfway trying to make clever and eye-catching flyers to distribute around SummerHill.

“Your poster idea is positively terrific,” Ashley said, her eyes smiling. Gushing was her trademark, and over time I’d learned to put up with it.

“So…tell us about your flyers,” Chelsea said, twisting her auburn hair around her finger.

Lissa was silent, waiting with eyes fixed on me.

“Promise not to laugh,” I said. “Honestly, I tried the alliteration thing, you know, for a catchy phrase or two, but I wasn’t very successful. Abednego starts with
A
, and that’s a hard letter to work with.”

“No kidding,” said Ashley.

“What about the Alliteration Wizard?” Chelsea inquired, mentioning the very person who’d first challenged me to talk in alliteration-eze, back when it was our private game. “Have you talked to Jon?”

“Forget
him
,” I spouted, glancing around to make sure Jon wasn’t within earshot.

Chelsea’s deep green eyes tunneled through me. “I can’t believe you still feel that way. After everything you two have been through together.”

I turned to go. “Not now, Chelsea.”

It was Lissa who followed me out the church doors and down the steps. The day was breezy and bright, with the promise of everlasting clear skies. A perfect day to walk home from church. And if I’d spotted my parents right at that moment to let them know, I would’ve set out for SummerHill Lane on foot.

“Merry, please don’t be upset,” Lissa said, hurrying to keep up. “Chelsea didn’t mean it. Not really.”

I whirled around. “Of course she meant it! You were there—you heard what she said.”

“No…no, I think you misunderstood” came the reply.

Shaking my head, I studied my wispy friend. Her wavy blond hair drifted softly around her shoulders, but it was the set of her lips that convinced me of her concern.

“Oh,” I groaned. “This is truly horrible.”

“It’ll be okay,” she said sympathetically. “You’ll see.”

But I felt dreadful. “Why do I have to get so freaked out over a boy?”

Lissa looked up from below her long lashes. “Maybe it’s because you still like him. Way down deep in your heart.”

I couldn’t bear to hear it, especially from her. After all, late last spring Lissa had fallen hard for Jon. And at the time, I’d considered him all mine. But now I wasn’t one bit interested. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

“Can we
not
talk about this here?” I snapped.

“Fine with me,” she said softly.

I knew I’d offended her. “Look, why don’t you come over this afternoon. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay, I’ll call you after lunch,” she said, turning to go.

Almost instantly, Ashley and Chelsea were on either side of me. “We’ll come help you make flyers,” Chelsea volunteered.

“Okay with you?” Ashley asked.

I shrugged. “Sure, come on over.”

“All right! Another alliteration affair,” Chelsea announced.

I couldn’t believe how good she was getting. “Wow, you’ve really caught on,” I said.

“Amazingly well,” Ashley said.

“So…watch out, Jon!” Chelsea said with thumbs up. “I’m ready to take you on.”

Ashley grinned. “Hey, that rhymed.”

“Shh! There he is,” I whispered, pointing to a group of guys spilling into the courtyard.

Chelsea’s face dropped. “I hope he didn’t hear me.”

“Let’s not take any chances,” I said.

“Meaning?” said Chelsea.

“I think we’d better split,” I suggested, waving to the girls. “Call me about this afternoon.”

They glanced over their shoulders at Jon and then grinned back at me.

Yee-ikes!
I rushed to the parking lot. My parents were waiting in the car, windows down.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Got tied up talking.”

“No problem,” Dad said with a smile and started the car.

As he drove home, I leaned back against the seat, gazing at the cloudless sky and replaying the weird exchange between Chelsea and me.

After all these months, I still hadn’t figured things out. Why did I have to get so mixed-up just talking about Jon Klein? Especially when I couldn’t care less.

Not only did we make flyers, my girl friends and I, we tromped all over the SummerHill area that Sunday afternoon, searching the bushes and asking neighbors if they’d seen Abednego.

Chelsea came up with the catchiest wording for our flyers.
Missing: a fussy, fat black feline—an amazing animal named Abednego
, it read.
Please contact Merry Hanson (owner), corner of Strawberry and SummerHill Lanes
.