The Bell Bandit (6 page)

Grandma didn't say much. It took some effort to walk on the packed-down snow, and there were branches and rocks you had to watch out for. Even Evan could feel his heart beating fast with the effort, and the cold intake of each breath of frozen air made his breathing seem heavier. He thought about Pete up on the roof all afternoon and wondered how he did it.

"Grandma, you want to go back now?" The light was definitely fading, and they'd already been walking for fifteen minutes. Evan wasn't even quite sure where they were, but Grandma knew her property like the back of her hand.

Grandma shook her head but didn't say anything. Her breathing was louder now, and she was grunting a little with the effort of climbing uphill. It was a pretty big hill, and the snow seemed deeper here. Evan looked around. There was something familiar about this place, but the light was so soft and lavender that he couldn't really trust his eyes.

They were just reaching the top now, Grandma ahead of him by a few feet. And as the crest of the hill came into view, Evan felt a sudden sense of coldness and dread.

Usually, they came up this hill from the other side, but it was still the same hill. Lovell's Hill. The one with the bell. There was the wooden crossbeam. And just like Jessie had said, the bell was gone.

"Grandma! Let's go back now," said Evan, afraid but not sure of what—which just made the fear feel all the worse. But Grandma wasn't stopping. She made a beeline for the bell, or at least where the bell should have been. Evan felt as though he had never seen a space so empty as the place where the bell was supposed to hang.

When she reached the wooden crossbeam, Grandma stopped. She looked around, and then looked back at the empty space. In the dim light, Evan couldn't see her face very well, but what he saw frightened him. She didn't look like his grandmother. She looked strange, with one arm missing inside her coat and the empty, flopping sleeve hanging like a dead fish. Her knitted cap was crooked on her head, and one strand of gray hair hung down and curled around her neck. Her eyes were searching for something, but the dying light made it harder and harder to see. Evan looked around to try to understand what she was looking for, but the thick blanket of snow seemed to transform every rock, every tree, every shape into something else. It was hard to make sense of any of it.

"Did you take the bell?" asked his grandmother sharply.

"No!" said Evan.

"Where is it? What have you done with it?"

"I don't know, Grandma. I didn't do anything with it."

"Give it back. Right now. It isn't yours to take."

"I didn't take it," said Evan, his panic growing. He had to figure out some way to get Grandma home. But when he took a step toward her, she backed up and nearly fell over. Evan froze in his tracks.

"Who are you?" she asked angrily.

"Grandma, it's me. It's Evan."

"Thief. You're a bell thief." Grandma looked at the crossbeam again and then at the sky. Evan tried desperately to think of how he was going to get Grandma home. She was tired. She was cold. He could see that now. He had to figure out how to take care of her. But he couldn't think. Should he leave her here and go get help? Should he try to force her to go home? How was he going to get her to safety without hurting her?

"Grandma, it's me. Evan. I'm your grandson. I need to get you home, okay?" Again Evan took a step toward her, and this time Grandma did fall over backwards, trying to move away from him. She landed sitting down in the soft snow, her bad arm still tucked inside her coat. Evan didn't think she was hurt, but the fall seemed to frighten her even more. She looked at Evan as if he had pushed her down, even though he was standing ten feet away from her.

"Stay away!" she said. "You won't get away with this." She looked around her again, and said, "Where's Susan?"

Evan didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say. The truth made no sense as long as Grandma didn't know who he was.

He tried to think. He tried to imagine what it must feel like to be his grandmother right now.

Finally, he said, "Susan sent me, Mrs. Joyce. She asked me to bring you home. She's waiting for you at home." Evan waited to see how she would respond.

"Good," said Grandma. "I need to speak with her. There's been a problem. A very big problem." But she didn't seem to remember what the problem was.

"Can I help you up?" asked Evan. He didn't move toward her.

"Yes. Help me up. Then take me to Susan. I need to speak with her."

Evan slowly walked over to his grandmother and helped lift her to her feet. It was hard to get her up, and he could feel his muscles straining, but he was able to do it.

"What's your name?" asked Grandma, straightening her cap on her head.

Suddenly, Evan recalled a character in a story that he and Jessie had made up when they were younger. "Grumpminster Fink. At your service, madam." He crooked out his arm.

"That's a very strange name," she said, but she took hold of his elbow, and slowly they made their way down off the hill, out of the woods, away from the falling night, and into the warmth and brightness of the house.

Jessie looked up from her notebook as Evan walked into the living room. She and Maxwell had spent most of the day walking all over Grandma's property, looking for someone to spy on. Now they were watching
Get Smart
while Jessie wrote important notes that would help them with their spy mission. They'd finished watching the episode called "Diplomat's Daughter" and were about to watch the one where Maxwell Smart disguises himself as a giant chicken. At the top of the first page of her notebook, Jessie had written, "The Bell Bandit," which she thought sounded just like the title of a real episode from the show.

When Evan walked in, Jessie was surprised to see that he had his snow boots on. "Not allowed!" she said, pointing her pencil at the dripping boots. "You're tracking in snow!"

"Mom!" shouted Evan. "Mom, can you come here?" Jessie looked at Evan's face. It didn't look the way it usually did. It almost looked like Evan was scared of something. But that didn't make any sense, because there was nothing to be afraid of here in the house. Jessie looked over at Maxwell. He hadn't even noticed that Evan had come in the room. He was busy watching the television.

"What is it?" shouted Mrs. Treski from the second floor.

Evan took the stairs two at a time. Ten seconds later, Mrs. Treski came hurrying down with Evan right behind her. Without saying a word, they disappeared into the kitchen. Jessie slowly got up from the couch and wandered after them, not sure she wanted to see what was going on.

In the kitchen, Jessie's mom was trying to take Grandma's coat off, but Grandma kept twisting away, saying it was time to feed the chickens.

Chickens! Just like on
Get Smart.
But Jessie knew that Grandma didn't keep chickens anymore. She used to, for years and years, and Jessie remembered the smelly coop and the soft fluff of feathers when she held a hen and the warm, smooth eggs that came in all different colors. That had been a long time ago, when Jessie was just a little kid. Why was Grandma saying she had to feed the chickens now?

"I'll feed the chickens, Mrs. Joyce," said Evan. Why was Evan calling Grandma
Mrs. Joyce
? "I'll take care of everything."

"You don't know how!" said Grandma angrily. "Susan, stop it. I have my chores to do." She swatted at Jessie's mom with her good hand and twisted away again.

"Yes, I do," said Evan. "The feed is in the barn, in the barrel to the left of the door. I fill the empty milk jug then shake it into the two feeders. And then I refill the pan with fresh water."

Grandma stopped struggling. "How do you know that?"

"I used to feed the chickens for you all the time," said Evan. Jessie thought his voice sounded funny, like it was being squeezed out of a toothpaste tube.

"Did you?" Her voice was quiet. She looked at Evan for a long time. "All right, then."

Evan walked out the back door and headed for the barn. Where was he going?

"Come on, Mom," said Mrs. Treski, helping Grandma out of her coat. Grandma was very quiet now. It looked as if she was concentrating really hard on a particularly difficult jigsaw puzzle.

Mrs. Treski led Grandma out of the kitchen. Jessie followed them into the living room and watched them go upstairs.

"You don't see that every day," Jessie murmured.

"You certainly don't," said Maxwell, right on cue, his eyes still glued to the TV set.

Seconds later Evan walked in through the front door.

"Why did you pretend to feed the chickens?" Jessie blurted out.

Evan pointed to the ceiling. "Is she upstairs?"

"Yeah, with Mom." Jessie looked at Evan's face. "There are no chickens, Evan!"

Evan shrugged. "Yeah, I know. I just thought it would be the easiest thing. I don't know."

"Is she pretending she doesn't know you again?"

"It's not pretending, Jessie!" Evan sounded angry. Why would he be angry? What had she done?

"That doesn't make sense," said Jessie. "You don't just forget someone in your family. That's not possible."

"Yeah, well, tell Grandma that.
You
can talk to her. She remembers
you.
" And now Jessie was positive that Evan was angry.

"None of this makes sense," said Jessie. "I'm going to go get Mom."

"No!" said Evan. "Leave her alone. She's taking care of Grandma."

"So?" said Jessie. "She can still talk to me." She headed for the stairs.

"Don't!" And the way he said it made Jessie stop and turn around. Maxwell laughed loudly at something that was on the TV, and Evan looked at him. Then in a quiet voice, Evan said, "Why does he have to be here?"

"Because we're watching TV," Jessie said. What was wrong with Maxwell? Why didn't Evan want him around?

"Whatever," said Evan, and he headed for the kitchen. But before he left the room, he turned and said, "You were right. The bell's gone. We saw it, Grandma and me. Just before she went loopy."

Jessie went back to the couch and sat down next to Maxwell. Maybe there was something about the bell being gone that made Grandma forget. Jessie had been talking about the missing bell the first time Grandma went loopy. Now Grandma had
seen
that the bell was gone. Jessie wondered if the bell was part of the problem. If the bell were back where it belonged, the way it had always been, would Grandma be better?

"Tomorrow is New Year's Eve," Jessie said to Maxwell. "We've got to find that bell before midnight tomorrow."

The next morning, Pete showed Evan how to use a plumb bob to determine a true vertical. They were replacing the windows on the second floor, and they needed to get the window casings set in straight. It turned out to be a lot trickier than he thought.

"You can't just set 'em according to the studs," said Pete, "because this is an old house and the studs are cockeyed. And you can't use the floor or the ceiling to mark against, because the floor slopes and the ceiling sags. Old houses. Everything is out of whack."

Evan nodded. Old houses
and
old people, he thought.

Pete showed him how the plumb bob worked. It was a heavy metal weight tied to a length of string, and when you let the weight hang free, the string made a straight line "that goes all the way to the center of the earth," according to Pete.

"Really?" asked Evan.

"Yep. No matter where you go, no matter what you're standing on, if you have a plumb bob, it points straight to the center of the earth." He handed the plumb bob to Evan to try out. "That's gravity for you."

Evan hung the plumb bob from his finger like a yoyo. "That is so cool."

"Well, like my dad always said, 'Gravity is our friend.'"

 

Now that Pete had gone to the hardware store to buy a new box of galvanized screws, Evan was wandering around the house with the plumb bob to see if he could find even one thing that was the way it was supposed to be. It was surprising. Evan would look at a door and think it was straight, but then when he held up the string, he could see that it was crooked. The front door was out of whack. The railings on the stairs were out of whack. All the windows in the living room were out of whack.

"This house is crazy!" he announced loudly, even though there was no one there to hear him. His mother had gone into town to talk with the insurance agent handling the fire claim, Jessie was off with Maxwell, and Grandma was taking a nap.

"You can say that again!" A voice came from the kitchen. Evan walked in to find his grandmother wrapping her new scarf around her neck. Her injured arm was still in its sling, but she managed to get the scarf on with just one good hand.

"Grandma, you're supposed to be napping." He put the plumb bob on the kitchen counter next to the toaster and noticed that his mom's cell phone was plugged into the outlet, charging. His mother's phone was old, and the battery ran out just about every day. She kept saying she was going to replace it, but she never did.

"Says who?" said Grandma.

"Mom said."

"I'm not four, Evan. I know when I'm tired, and I know when I'm not."

Evan was so relieved to hear that she knew who he was, he smiled. But then he saw that she was putting on her snow boots, and the smile disappeared from his face. "Where are you going?"

"For a walk," said Grandma. "It makes me crazy being all cooped up."

"No," said Evan firmly. "Mom doesn't want you going out—" He was about to say
alone,
but he stopped himself.

"Since when does your mother tell me what to do?" Grandma had gotten both boots on her feet and was now reaching for her dark green barn jacket. She slipped her good arm through one sleeve and buttoned the loose coat over her injured arm. Evan was surprised to see how quickly and easily she managed the buttons. His grandmother really was amazing.

"Please don't go, Grandma," said Evan. "It's getting late. It'll be dark soon."

"I'll be quick. I just need to stretch my legs and see the sky. The trees are calling to me. Can't stand being in the house all day."