The Hidden Valley Mystery (3 page)

Once, Tuan had explained his small size. “In my village, during the war, we never got enough to eat. Until we escaped, and the boat brought us to Canada, I went to sleep every night with my stomach growling.”

Despite what Tuan and his family had suffered, his large, dark eyes twinkled when he spoke. “Mike, you bounced around so much in your sleep, you almost fell off the chair.”

The porch door squeaked. Gunnar peered through the screen. “He was probably dreaming about Dead Man’s Cliff.” With an elbow Gunnar eased the door open. One hand held a platter of cheese and lettuce sandwiches. In the other teetered four cans of pop. “That’s where he got those patches on his knees.”

Freddy and Tuan jumped up and grabbed a pop and sandwich each. Gunnar held out the platter to Mike. Tuan squatted again beside him.

Freddy sat back on the rail and swallowed a chunk of bread. “Dead Man’s Cliff? Where’s that?”

“I bet I know,” Tuan piped in. “That’s the cliff not far from my apartment, at the end of the street. I’ve climbed down there many times.”

“Yeah, sure,” Freddy glugged back some pop, “when you’re not glued to your computer.”

Tuan giggled and continued, “The first summer my family came to Canada, my brother and I scooped a hide out in that cliff. We used to crawl inside and look at comic books—to learn English.”

“Yeah,” Freddy chuckled, “important words like ‘wham’ and ‘bang’. That’s all you knew your first day at school.”

Mike sat up. He stared at Tuan. “You dug holes in that cliff?” He couldn’t imagine anyone playing there by choice, not after his nasty fall.

“Oh, you know Tuan,” Freddy stuffed another sandwich into his mouth, “he’s so light and fast, he could crawl across a ceiling and not fall.”

“I had to go somewhere,” Tuan giggled. “With seven people crowded in one apartment, it’s too noisy for me to read. I still go there sometimes.”

Gunnar swallowed a crust. “Only now you read books about computer programming, not
Batman
comics,” he added. He propped his back against the door and crossed one long foot over the other.

“So, Mike, you want to come see my hide out?” Tuan asked, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Maybe you could add another patch to your knees.”

Mike groaned and flopped back on the chair.

Gunnar uncrossed his legs and slid down onto the floor to sit beside Tuan. “Tuan, when you and your brother played on that cliff, did you ever see a mansion below?” Gunnar asked.

Tuan nodded. “There is another small valley north of the golf course. Once, late in the autumn, when the branches were bare, I did see a big house.”

Gunnar continued. “Did you notice anything strange going on there?”

Tuan thought. He shook his head. “In summer the leaves are too thick to see much. After school starts, and the weather turns cold, my hide-out is the school library instead.”

Freddy thumped his feet to the porch. “Who cares about some big old house?” He beckoned the others closer. “I think we should take Mike to the show at the Cinetron.” He glanced around. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I overheard Maria say she and Elise are going this afternoon.”

“Oh, Mike,” Tuan shook his finger, “you didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend.”

“I don’t!” Mike snorted. “It’s Freddy who’s crazy about girls, not me. Elise is just somebody in my Math class.”

“And Maria?” Gunnar kicked Freddy’s leg. “Is she in your Math class too?”

“Shut up, you guys.” Freddy bent toward the platter by Gunnar’s shoe. He snatched the last sandwich. “Do you want to go to the show or not?”

Gunnar laughed. “You didn’t even tell us what’s playing.”

“
Revenge of the Bat People
,” Freddy answered.

“It sounds good to me,” said Tuan.

“Me too,” Gunnar agreed.

Mike eased himself off the chair. He stretched. “O.K., guys, it’s settled. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 6 – The Van

In the Cinetron lobby, the boys said good bye to Elise and Maria. With the rest of the movie crowd, they jostled through the glass doors onto the sidewalk. Outside, the air still felt warm, although cars were pulling into the plaza’s exit lane. Food Basics and Shopper's Drug Mart had closed.

“Oh, man, that ending was gross,” Mike chortled.

Freddy gave him a friendly shove in the back. “What do you mean? I loved how the mountain blew up at the end.”

Up the sidewalk, Tuan darted ahead of them. He twirled around, his giant green T shirt flaring like a skirt. He tilted his head to one side and clasped both hands. In a high pitched voice he squealed, “Oh, help me, Freddy dear. Your Maria is so scared.”

Mike bent double with laughter. They couldn’t tease him about Elise. She’d sat on Maria’s other side, on the aisle. “So,” Gunnar slapped a long arm around Freddy’s shoulder, “now we know why you picked this movie. To make Maria grab your hand in the dark.”

Freddy shook off Gunnar’s arm and walked ahead.

Tuan danced closer. He twirled around again. “Oh, Freddy dear, squeeze my hand harder.”

Freddy’s face reddened. “Shut up, Tuan,” he growled through gritted teeth.

Tuan paid no attention. Around Freddy he circled. He puckered his lips and fluttered his eyelids.

Mike watched Freddy’s shoulders tighten.

Gunnar stepped in between. “That’s enough teasing,” he warned Tuan.

But caught up in the game, Tuan only danced faster. He darted in front of Freddy and squeaked, “Give Maria a kiss!”

“I said shut up!” Freddy shouted and lunged. His fist met only air. Out of reach, Tuan scampered across the sidewalk and into the parking lot. He blew Freddy a kiss.

“I’ll get you!” Freddy howled, his face deep red. After Tuan he ran, muscles bulging, running shoes thumping from concrete to asphalt.

Tuan wove and darted through thinning rows of cars. Freddy charged after him. Into the centre they ran, toward The Beer Store on the far side. The store was closing for the day. In the distance, the last customers trickled out.

Mike and Gunnar chuckled as they watched. They knew what would happen now. By the time Tuan let Freddy catch him, they’d both have run off their mischief and anger. Together they’d flop on The Beer Store bench.

Mike shook his head, as Tuan skipped left, just missing a stray shopping cart. “He sure is quick on his feet.” Gunnar shaded his eyes. “Try to tell that to Freddy.” He laughed. “He’s still tearing after Tuan.”

Beyond the runners, Mike’s eye caught a stocky figure, laden with cases, striding out of the beer store. Before the glass doors flashed closed, the man turned back and shouted something inside. Swinging his cases forward again, he stomped to an old grey van parked down the curb. He opened the back and slung the cases in. After whamming the door shut, he stomped around to the driver’s seat and heaved himself up.

“There goes Tuan!” Gunnar shouted.

Mike chuckled as Tuan skirted more shopping carts, circled a lamp post, and dashed into the home stretch, Freddy plodding behind. A moment later, Mike heard an engine roar and wheels squeal to a start. He grabbed Gunnar’s arm.

Tuan darted toward the bench. Without even slowing, the van swung straight toward Mike’s friend.

Mike gasped. The van! “Tuan! Tuan! Watch out!” he bellowed.

Wheels screeched. Dust few up. As if in slow motion, Mike watched Tuan’s body twist and fly into the air, his long green T-shirt wrapping around him. Without a sound, he doubled over and crumpled onto the asphalt. The van lurched to a stop.

“Tuan!” Mike was running—running, hard as he could across the lot. His scraped knees ached with each jolt, as one foot, the other, hit ground. But despite his stiffened muscles and pain, he had to run. Easily Gunnar’s long strides passed him.

Lagging behind, alone, Mike felt hot tears stream down his cheeks and blow off into the wind. But he didn’t care who saw. All he cared about was Tuan.

Feet pounding the asphalt, he kept his eyes glued ahead. Gunnar and Freddy knelt on the ground beside Tuan’s small form. On the sidewalk behind them, bystanders gathered. “Gunnar!” Mike yelled. He staggered closer.

Gunnar turned and waved. “He’s O.K.,” he shouted.

With Freddy’s help, Tuan sat up. A couple of adults bent over his friend, nodded, then walked away. The crowd on the sidewalk broke up.

Mike slowed to a hobble. Bending his head, with the backs of his fists he wiped off the last tears. When he looked up he saw the van crawling toward him. Still a short distance away, the stocky man leaned out the driver’s window and peered back. Mike glared at his hard, unshaven face. Behind bobbed the head of a huge black dog.

“The kid’s O.K.,” the man shouted, as if to defend himself.

“No thanks to you!” Mike cried. “Can’t you even get out to look? I ought to call the police!”

At the word “police” the man’s head jerked inside. With a squeal the van shot forward and roared down the parking lot to the empty incoming lane. At the stoplights, it skidded around the corner and sped south toward Highway 401.

“The licence number!” Mike kicked himself. All he had caught were the last two letters: PJ.

Shaking with anger, he limped toward his friends. Gunnar and Freddy had settled Tuan on The Beer Store bench. Except for a rip in his T shirt, and a bruise where his forearm had broken the fall, Tuan looked unhurt. Mike hobbled up and flopped beside him. “Are you O.K.?” he asked.

“Yes, I am fine,” Tuan replied, “just a little shook up. My shirt’s not so good,” he held up the tail and waved it to show off a long rip.

Freddy rested one foot on the bench. His face was still red from running. He shook his head. “It’s lucky you’re so quick,” he said. He looked at Mike. “How Tuan skipped back in time, I don’t know. That idiot in the van just missed him by centimetres.”

Pacing behind the bench, Gunnar wiped his forehead. “That van sped by so fast, I was sure it spun Tuan off balance,” he muttered.

“Can you believe that guy?” Mike fumed. “He didn’t even get out to look!” He glanced behind at Gunnar. “And when I said I’d call the police, he took off like crazy.”

Freddy pounded his palm. “That really stinks,” he snorted. “What kind of guy would leave a kid lying on the ground?”

Gunnar stared over Mike’s shoulder at the stoplights. “Mike, before the van drove away, did you hear a dog bark?” he asked.

“Maybe,” Mike shuddered, “there was a dog in the van. A big one, black, sitting behind that guy. Why?”

Gunnar looked Mike in the eye. He frowned. “Think about it.”

Mike gulped and shook his head. He didn’t want to think about what happened near the mansion that morning. Or about what almost happened to Tuan. Not any more. He’d had enough adventure.

CHAPTER 7 – New Neighbours

On Sunday morning, the streets were cool and quiet as Mike slowly pedalled home. He still felt stiff from his fall down Dead Man’s Cliff, but his knees no longer stung.

A block from his house, he stopped by the curb and leaned down. Gently he peeled off the gauze patches Gunnar had taped to each knee. He crumpled them into his shorts’ pocket. No need to upset his mother. She’d wring her hands and natter about blood and germs, then poke through the cupboard for more disinfectant and bandaids. Her fussing made him feel like a baby.

With his bandages tucked out of sight, Mike slid back onto the bicycle seat and made his stiff legs pedal faster and faster. Past the neighbours’ houses, around the lilac bush, up his own driveway he swung. From across the street, he felt Mrs. Mallo’s eyes on his back. Everyone knew she watched the whole street through a crack in her living-room curtain. Could her x-ray vision see the scabs on his knees?

He skidded out of sight by the garage. After locking his bike inside, he dashed to the side door. He eased it open and crept up the steps toward the kitchen. He would shower and change into long pants, ready to visit
Theo
Lazo, before his mother got home from church.

“EEE!” his mother shrieked.

Mike jumped back. “Hi, Mom,” he called from the landing.

“Michael, you startled me. Don’t prowl like a cat.”

Mike stuck his head through the door, keeping his knees out of sight. “I thought you were still at church.”

“I didn’t go. I am too upset and tired from last night,” his mother wrung her hands. Up and down the kitchen she paced. Her blue bathrobe swirled as she turned, white slippers slapping the tile.

Mike gulped. Had she glimpsed his knees so fast? Or did Mrs. Mallo telephone? Better to face his mother now, and get the fussing over. Mike stepped into the kitchen, dangling the rucksack in front of his legs, just in case. “What’s wrong, Mom?”

Mrs. Steriou waved her hands. “Those people!” she sputtered, and leaned against the sink for support. “They ruined my shower for Cousin Deeta.”

“What people?” Mike scratched his head.

Mrs. Steriou waved toward the front door to explain. “Those horrible people. Across the street. Our new neighbours.”

Mike looked blank.

His mother continued, “They just moved into Mr. Kozinsky’s old house. Yesterday afternoon. They’re renting it for the summer, Mrs. Mallo told me.”

Mike laughed. “No wonder I don’t know them.”

“And you’re not going to!” His mother stamped her foot.

Mike had never seen her so angry. “What happened, Mom?”

“Before my shower, they drove up in a van and a dirty truck. When I looked outside at 2:00 o’clock, the truck was blocking my driveway. I went out and stood by my lilac bush. I called across the street to the men please to move it—I had company coming.”

“Were they busy unloading?” Mike asked.

“No!” his mother puffed. “That I would understand. They just sat on the curb, drinking beer.”

“It was really hot, and maybe they were tired,” Mike suggested.

“No. They were bad men. One even shouted a terrible word at me. I said I would call the police. Two of his great big friends stood up and started across the street toward our lawn. I was scared. I ran into the house.”

Mike walked to the kitchen table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He held the rucksack over his knees. “What happened next?” he asked. He knew how easily his mother got excited. She wanted everything perfect for her family and friends.