Pillage
I didn’t like this house.
I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to be in a messy apartment making my mom dinner. I wanted to be thinking of ways to bother my classmates, or scrounging for money in my mom’s purse to buy a movie ticket.
The wind laughed shrilly at me.
I put my hands over my ears and lay back on my bed. I stayed awake the rest of the night, watching the clock and wondering how I was ever going to live here.
Chapter 9
Paint an Ugly Picture
You seem tired,” Milo said.
“What gave it away?” I asked sarcastically. “Was it when I fell asleep on the bus and started to drool, or when I fell asleep in Squall’s class and started to snore?”
“Sorry,” Milo said, hurt. “I was just saying.”
“I didn’t sleep,” I growled as we walked to our lunch table and sat down with our trays.
“Why not?” Milo asked. “Did the gardener tie you up and force you to stay awake?”
“No.”
“Millie?”
“No,” I said, bothered. “They lectured me, and Scott almost pulled my ear off, but they weren’t what kept me up.”
“What then?”
It was lunchtime and the cafeteria was a lot more crowded than it had been yesterday. It wasn’t because the food was a draw. Today’s menu was meatloaf, a square of hard peanut butter, and a salad that looked like a spit-up wad of field greens, mixed with raw baby carrots, and a smear of white dressing running through the whole mess. Milo bragged about how the students had actually helped grow the lettuce in the school garden. I tried to look impressed. I looked around at all the other students who were trying to choke down their meatloaf.
“Seriously,” Milo persisted. “Why are you so tired?”
“I guess I can tell you,” I whispered. “There’s a basement in the manor.”
It was Milo’s turn to be sarcastic. “Some secret—I told you that a couple of days ago.”
“I know, but I didn’t believe you.”
“So you’ve seen it?” Milo asked, picking up his peanut butter square and taking a huge bite.
“Yes,” I hissed. “And there was someone or something down in it.”
“What?” Milo asked enthusiastically.
“Yeah, what?” Wyatt said, walking up to our table. He sat down next to us with his friends on either side of him. “What are you two stumps all excited about? Did they release a new collectable Barbie?”
We both just stared at him.
“You have the stupidest sense of humor,” I finally said.
“Shut up,” Wyatt said, smashing his palm down on my peanut butter square. “I’m not here to make jokes. I wanna know what you did to us yesterday.”
Milo looked nervous.
“I know it was a trick,” Wyatt whispered at me. “Who helped you?”
“No one helped me,” I said seriously. “The ivy’s got my back.”
All of us looked up at the windows circling the cafeteria ceiling. I waved as if some of the foliage were signaling me.
“Funny,” Wyatt said. “I don’t know how you did it, but I’m gonna find out. And when I do—” Wyatt thumped his fist on the table and then pointed at me. “I don’t like you.”
“Really?” I said, smiling the sort of smile that would make a grandmother give me a cookie, but cause a bully like Wyatt to want to hit me.
“When your family loses your home, my father will buy it up for pennies,” Wyatt seethed, stabbing Milo’s homegrown salad with a fork. “And from what I’ve heard, you’d better start packing your bags.”
Having been picked on, moved around, disciplined, ignored, bullied, teased, embarrassed, and misunderstood by just about every student and teacher I’d ever known, I was no longer surprised by how cruel and unfriendly people could be. Wyatt’s threats and words were similar to half a dozen other kids’ who had given me grief over the last few years of my life. There wasn’t anything Wyatt could say that would cause me to care. I decided to use one of my favorite tactics in an effort to turn the tables.
“There’s a booger on the tip of your nose,” I whispered to him, passing a napkin. “You might want to be more careful when you blow.”
Wyatt didn’t know whether he should take the napkin and clean up, or scream in anger. He did neither. Instead he stomped his feet and pushed Milo’s face down into his meatloaf. In doing so, Wyatt helped me discover something that could actually make me care.
I jumped up and knocked Wyatt’s right shoulder back with my hand. His two cronies were ready to uneven the odds. Ellis, the single-browed thug, picked up his fork and swung it at me. The tines caught the sleeve of my new jacket and created a long tear. I grabbed my arm and screamed. I could feel small amounts of blood coming from the wound.
Wyatt must have realized the power of the fork because he grabbed his own and took a swing. He missed both of us. His poor aim only made him angrier. He lunged at me and I flipped my tray up, blocking his blow and causing him to push his fist into my uneaten meatloaf. Carl grabbed Milo by the front of his shirt and shoved him backward. I moved to break Milo’s fall, but my foot slipped on my spilled milk and I went to the ground on my back.
Wyatt stood over us and smiled. Our actions had attracted the attention of the next table, but no adults. Wyatt lifted his right foot and kicked it toward my stomach. As I moved to block it, flashes of green sprang from across the room like feathery birds.
I heard Ellis scream as more swatches of dark green began to fly around the room. I thought for a second that the ivy was acting up, but I could see from the windows above that the ivy was quiet and still.
Wyatt swatted at the air. I rolled onto my stomach to push myself up and my hand slipped in my spilled salad. As my hand touched the leaves, the entire salad began to scurry across the floor. The leaves leapt into the air and landed on Carl’s butt. I watched the lettuce leaves contract and heard Carl scream.
As I stood up, every salad in the room jumped from its cozy section in the lunch trays and flew with fury toward Wyatt and his allies. Wyatt fell backward over a table of students, sliding off the bench and onto the floor.
It seemed like entire heads of lettuce dogpiled him. Wyatt tore at the greenery, screaming and shouting. Ellis and Carl were having similar problems. Ellis took his single brow and ran from the room, covered in lettuce and dressing. Carl swatted at the air and fought violently to scrape the salads off him as a herd of baby carrots climbed his legs.
Students everywhere burst from their seats and ran for cover. A girl with big shoulders fainted, and a boy who had bragged in my math class about not being scared of anything, wilted like a weak flower and crawled under a table to cry.
The few adults in the cafeteria kept yelling for everyone to calm down, but the attacking salads soon convinced them that they had no real control of the situation. Two of the teachers ducked for cover while the third ran out the back door.
“What’s happening?” Milo screamed.
“I have no idea!” I screamed back, batting at the air.
Wyatt was still on the ground, rolling like he was on fire and smearing white dressing across the floor. Fleeing students slipped and slid on the dressing, crashing into tables and walls.
“The salads aren’t going after anyone but Wyatt and Carl,” Milo screamed frantically.
I looked around. Dressing and lettuce was everywhere, but the only people covered in it were Wyatt and Carl. I watched Wyatt spin on the floor, trying desperately to crawl his way out of the cafeteria. Carl was pinned to a table, pleading for his life as tiny carrots worked themselves into his nose and lettuce leaves stuffed themselves into his mouth.
Things looked like they were moving in slow motion. I watched the other students running in fear. I saw Kate hunched down in a corner of the cafeteria, holding a tray over her head and shaking.
Her eyes met mine and the word just came right out of me—
“Stop.”
Instantl
y every bit of lettuce shivered and dropped to the floor. Carrots rained down like thick drops of water.
I walked over to Kate and crouched down beside her. “Are you okay?” I asked.
“What was that?” she asked, her eyes wide with fear.
“I have no idea,” I answered. “But I think the lettuce had it out for Wyatt. What kind of food are they serving us?”
“Lively food, I guess,” Kate said. A small smile appeared on her face and some of the fear left her eyes. I helped her to her feet and her small grin grew a little bigger.
I remembered how much I enjoyed her smile. There were definite perks to heroically saving a damsel in distress.
Milo stepped up to us, wiping a glob of dressing off his sleeve. “How did you stop it?” Milo questioned, seemingly bothered by Kate’s closeness to me.
“I just asked,” I said, more confused than anyone.
“You asked the lettuce to stop?” Kate smiled nervously. “That’s impossible.”
I shrugged.
From across the cafeteria, I could hear Wyatt crying and wiping salad off himself. Carl sat up on the table, throwing up buckets of lettuce and shooting carrots out his nose.
I walked over and reached down to pull Wyatt to his feet.
He looked up at me, still crying. “Who are you?”
“Here,” I said, ignoring his question and keeping my hand extended.
“Get away from me!” Wyatt shouted, knocking my hand aside and standing up on his own. Lettuce slid down him like wet paint. He had dressing all over his face and above his lip like a mustache.
I reached out and picked up a napkin.
“Here,” I said sincerely. “You’ve got something on your nose.”
Some people have absolutely no sense of humor. If Wyatt had been holding a bat I’m sure he would have hit me. Instead, he glared at me and motioned for Carl to join him. They stalked out of the cafeteria.
I looked around at the chaos and destruction that remained from the lettuce attacks.
“Remind me to never make you mad,” Milo murmured from behind me.
“I think I need help,” I said, worried.
Wyatt came back in the cafeteria, flanked by Mr. Squall on one side and Principal Wales on the other. Wyatt pointed at me and the principal motioned for me to come.
“I’m dead,” I said.
“Not if there’s salad around,” Kate said, raising one eyebrow.
I laughed because she was beautiful and I wanted her to like me.
“Nice to see you still have your sense of humor,” Milo said in amazement.
I shrugged. “I was beginning to wonder when I would finally get to see the principal’s office. I made it all the way to my second day—I think that’s a new personal best.”
I walked across the cafeteria and followed Principal Wales to his office. My life was following the course it always had. Although I must say, of all the principal’s offices I had ever been in his was certainly the stuffiest. It was filled with the most scholarly looking, but in my opinion, useless junk.
“Have a seat,” the principal said, trying to stay calm. “Your second day here and already you’ve caused quite a stir.”
I didn’t think he was complimenting me, but I said, “Thank you,” just in case.
“You have some explaining to do, Mr. Beck.”
I smiled. If he was expecting me to clear things up, we were going to be here for a long, long time.
Chapter 10
There Is a Glow That
Won’t Snuff Out
Principal Wales lectured me for an hour about nothing. He talked about character, integrity, and respect. Luckily for me he had long, rambling stories to go with all of those qualities. When he finally stopped to catch his breath I asked him what it was I had actually done. He stammered and said something about throwing lettuce and causing a commotion.
I asked for proof.
He told me not to be impertinent.
He then warned me if I ever did the thing I had done again, whatever it was that I had done, that I would be in great trouble.
When I got on the bus to go home, everyone grew quiet. The seat next to Milo was filled so I sat by myself in the front row. After most of the students had been dropped off, I worked my way to the back of the bus and sat by Milo. Kate was across the aisle.
“You okay?” Milo asked.
“Sure.”
“Everyone’s making up their own version of what happened today, Beck,” Milo said quietly.
“Good,” I said. “Then maybe someone can explain it to me.”
“That was so weird, Beck,” Kate jumped in, seeming much more interested in me since lunch. “I mean, the lettuce and carrots were moving—by themselves.”
I savored the sound of Kate saying my name for a moment before I replied.
“Do things grow differently here?” I asked seriously. “Or do you make lettuce out of something living?”
Kate shook her head. “I can’t wrap my mind around an explanation.”
“Maybe it’s all the moisture in the air,” I said. “The things that grow here are just sick of it, or overly confident because of so much water.”
“But the salad was dead,” she pointed out.
“There must have been enough life left in it,” I tried weakly.
“What are you going to tell your uncle?” Milo asked.
“To socialize more,” I joked. “I haven’t seen my uncle. I’m not even sure he’s up there. Millie could have killed him years ago and now they just have to put on an act.”
“Up there?” Kate asked. “Up where?”
“There’s a room under the copper dome on the top floor,” I explained. “It’s such a huge house. When I wander around, I worry I might not make it back to my room.”
“And you found the basement last night?” Milo asked.
I nodded.
“Congratulations,” Kate smiled. “What—was it hiding under the bottom floor?”
“Funny. It’s filled in with dirt,” I whispered. “Someone’s even moved soil to cover all signs of it from the outside. But I found an entrance behind a wall in one of the rooms. It looks like there’s a tunnel leading down. But something was moving—something that unlocked the door for me to get in.”
Milo shivered.
“I’m going back tonight,” I added, trying to sound brave.
“I wanna go,” Kate whispered excitedly. “I get so bored at home. Take me with you.”
It was the most enthusiasm I had seen from her. I tried to act cool by shrugging instead of squealing. Apparently Kate was up for adventure.
“Me, too,” Milo said.
The bus stopped and the last of the other students got off, leaving just us three and the driver.
“Okay,” I said. “If you guys can get out tonight, meet me at two o’clock by the side doors, past the fountain and near the drive.”
They both nodded.
“I’ll meet you at the end of your drive,” Milo said to Kate, “at a quarter to two.”
“But listen,” I warned. “We have to do it quietly. When I asked Millie about the basement she freaked out. And the tunnel opening is in a room that was locked. I’ve only been warned about a hundred times by everyone at the house not to mess with locked doors.”
“So if we’re caught, you’re dead,” Kate said.
“Exactly.”
“I can live with that.” She smiled.
“Thanks.”
“Should we bring anything?” Milo asked.
“Yeah, a bucket of chicken and some movies,” I joked.
“I was just asking,” Milo said defensively.
“Sorry, bring a flashlight and a bat or a stick to stab something with,” I said, feeling like I was extending a really morbid party invitation.
The bus stopped in front of my drive.
“Two o’clock?” I confirmed.
“Two,” they echoed back.
I did my homework, ate dinner in my room,
and brushed my teeth with a gnawing nervousness in my gut. I had acted brave on the bus, but when I thought back to how I had felt last night when that shadow had moved behind the wall, I wanted to pack up my things and take the first train away from here.
It was a small comfort to know I wouldn’t be going down the tunnel alone, but my gut still ached.
I sat on the edge of my bed and set my alarm clock for 1:50. It was silly of me to even set it seeing as how I couldn’t fall asleep. At 1:49 I turned off the alarm and slid out of bed. I got the key from out of my suitcase where I had been hiding it.
I left my room and made my way down the dark hall, feeling the wall for direction. There was no light at all tonight. I wondered if there would be any sign of light behind the wall.
I stepped off the stairs on the bottom floor and listened for sounds of life. Thomas was snoring in his room and both Millie and Wane’s doors were closed. I slipped over to the kitchen and out the side door.
The small window in the door let in some light from the lamp that hung outside above the fountain. I looked out the window and could see the lamplight exposing a soft, drizzling rain. I couldn’t see Kate or Milo and wondered if they would really come. I had a feeling Milo might show, but I was doubtful about Kate. Girls always talked big, but when it came down to it Kate would probably want her beauty sleep instead. Ten seconds later I heard a soft scratching at the door.
I pushed the door open and Milo and Kate squeezed in. Milo was carrying a big stick; Kate had a turned-off flashlight. I was happy to be wrong about her.
“Sorry we’re late,” Kate whispered. “Milo walks so slow.”
I held my finger to my lips and nodded for them to follow. We made our way to the far hall and then down toward the door. The house was so dark and there were hundreds of doors, but I felt pretty sure I had found the right one.
I tested the knob. Still locked. I pulled the key from my pocket and slipped it into the lock. Just like the night before, a crisp click echoed in the hall—of course last night someone else had turned the key from the other side.