“It just would have been nice if I could have been more helpful,” said Mrs. Hatford. “I think I'll have them over for brunch right after the van leaves on moving day. I'll tell them to stop by here for a bite before they go. They'll surely appreciate that.”
“I know they will,” said her husband.
Jake managed to find a couple of boxes at a filling station, and Josh got one from next door.
“After dinner,” Mrs. Hatford said, “you boys take these boxes on over to Mrs. Malloy and ask if there's anything else we can do. I'll call her myself and invite her for brunch on moving day.”
All the boxes had been piled on the front porch, and after dinner the four boys set to work separating them into four piles, one for each of them to carry. Some had grit at the bottom and had to be turned over and tapped. Some had bunches of rolled-up paper, or store receipts.
Wally was stacking the pile of boxes he would carry and shook out some dust. A small piece of paper fluttered out too. It was just a shopping list, and he had started to throw it out when something caught his eye. He read it again: Eggs, Rope, Tomato sauce, Flashlight, Dynamite.
“Hey!” he said.
Jake looked up. “What?”
“Dynamite!” said Wally.
“Huh?” Jake reached over and took the slip of paper from him. “Dynamite?” he said. “Where would you go to buy dynamite?”
“Where you'd go to buy rope and a flashlight, I guess,” said Wally. “Doesn't that sound sort of suspicious to you? Rope, flashlight, dynamite?”
The boys stared at the paper some more.
“I don't know. Eggs and tomato sauce don't sound too dangerous to me,” said Josh.
“Maybe this isn't a list of stuff to get from one store. Maybe it's a list of things from several stores,” said Jake.
The boys looked at each other. What did someone want with rope and a flashlight and dynamite? Wally took the note back and stuffed it in his pocket. He wasn't letting go of this!
Wally didn't sleep very well that night. Maybe he should walk that piece of paper down to the police station and turn it over to the sergeant on duty, he thought. No, it was too ridiculous.
But as the night went on, Wally worried. What if he didn't turn that paper over to the police and then there was a big explosion? What if then he rushed it down to the police station and the officer said, “Why, anybody knows this is the handwriting of Mad Bomber Bill, Wally. If we had seen this list in time, we could have checked his house over, looked in his garage to see if he had any explosives.”
And maybe Mad Bomber Bill had a little nephew who always followed him around. And on that particular day Mad Bomber Bill told the little boy to stay home.
“Go on back to your mother and quit following me around,” Mad Bomber Bill might have said.
But maybe the little boy was too fond of his uncle and only pretended he was going home. Maybe he turned around and kept following his uncle, hiding behind trees all the way. And maybe Mad Bomber Bill went into somebody's house to place the dynamite. And when he came back out to light the fuse, the little boy ran inside to see what his uncle had put in there that was so secret.
And then maybe the fuse started to burn, and as it got closer and closer to the dynamite, Mad Bomber Bill saw his little nephew playing around inside the house, and maybe he called, “No! Come out! Come out!” But maybe it was too late and the little boy stumbled and the dynamite went off and …
“No!” yelled Wally.
His eyes popped open. There was complete silence in the house. His room was dark.
Suddenly he heard a door open at the end of the hall, and a few moments later his mom came in.
“Wally?” she said. “Was that you?”
“Was who me?” said Wally, his heart pounding.
“I just heard someone yell, and it sounded like you,” said his mother.
Wally's head whirled and he tried to think. “It was Bill,” he said.
“Who?” said his mother.
“A dream,” said Wally.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Maybe,” said Wally.
“Then go back to sleep,” she told him.
“Okay,” said Wally. But he heard the grandfather clock in the hall downstairs chime out one, then two, then three o'clock before he finally fell asleep.
Five
Dare
“I don't know why you told the Hatfords that we'll go to Knob Hill some night at midnight,” Beth said to Eddie. “You know Mom will never let us.”
“Yeah, but the Hatfords won't be able to go either, so it will make it sound as though they're the ones who chicken out,” said Eddie. “I just like to keep them on the hot seat. Didn't you see how suspicious they were acting at Smuggler's Cove, like I was going to pull something on them? It drives them nuts when we're polite. Now we can sit back and see what they come up with.”
“It looks like they're going on a safari,” Caroline said, glancing out the kitchen window. Beth and Eddie turned to look, and coming up the hill from the river were the four Hatford boys, each carrying a load of boxes on his head, each load balanced by a pair of hands.
Mrs. Malloy came into the room just then. “What in the world … ?” she said, going to the back door.
“Empty boxes from Mom,” said Wally as they stepped up onto the porch. “She thought maybe you could use them for packing.”
“How thoughtful of her!” said Mrs. Malloy. “Of course we can use them! Moving always takes more boxes than you think. Just stack them there in the front hallway, would you, boys?”
The Hatfords walked through the kitchen and the dining room and deposited their load in the front hallway while the girls watched.
“Do you have time to stay for some cookies and iced tea?” said Mrs. Malloy.
Was that a serious question? Caroline wondered. Did boys have stomachs?
“Yes!” said Peter, answering for them, and they all went back to the kitchen and sat around the big table, where the girls were just finishing their dinner. Mrs. Malloy put a platter of brownies and sugar cookies on the table, along with a pitcher and some paper cups. Then she left the kitchen to carry a few of the boxes upstairs.
Jake looked slyly around the table. “Question,” he said. “If somebody told you he was going to buy some rope, a flashlight, and some dynamite, what would you think he was going to do?”
“Hmm,” said Eddie. “If he needed a flashlight, then he was probably going to be working at night.”
“If he had rope, then he was probably going to lower himself down a cliff or into a hole or something,” said Beth.
“Or hide the dynamite somewhere,” said Caroline.
“What is this? A game?” asked Eddie.
“I don't know,” said Jake. “Show her the list, Wally.”
Wally pulled the small slip of paper from his pocket and handed it to Eddie.
‘Eggs, Rope, Tomato sauce, Flashlight, Dynamite,’ ” she read aloud. She studied it for a moment. “Nothing in code? No map? No ‘X marks the spot’?”
“I didn't say it meant anything,” Jake said quickly. “It just seems sort of unusual, that's all. Wally found it in one of the empty boxes.”
Wally took the paper back and put it in his pocket again.
“Of course,” said Eddie, “if they were connected somehow—the rope, the flashlight, and the dynamite—we're probably the first ones to find out. So if anything happens …”
“We're just going to sit around and wait until it happens?” asked Josh.
“So what do you suggest?” said Beth. “Taking it to the police and telling them we've found a suspicious shopping list?”
“Just keeping our eyes open, that's all,” said Jake.
“If somebody was going to blow up something, and somebody was going to lower himself down into a hole somewhere, where would that somewhere be?” said Eddie.
“It could be anywhere at all,” said Josh, reaching for a cookie. “Somebody's basement. The r
iverbank. The old coal mine.”
Caroline's mind was already alive with possibilities. What an exciting movie that would make! A story! A play! What if she were being lowered on a rope into a gravel pit? A mine? What if she had to blow up a dam to prevent the enemy from taking over a town?
Maybe her job would be to stop an explosion, to reach the fuse in time. The clock would be ticking, and Caroline would be lowered into the hole to stomp on the lit fuse before the bomb went off. Her eyes glazed over. Her pulse began to race. Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen …, she counted down to herself.
Eddie snapped her fingers in front of Caroline's face. “Hey!” she said. “Get a grip.”
Caroline blinked. “It could be serious,” she said.
“Yeah, well, if we hear of anything suspicious, we'll let you know,” said Jake.
“About that old coal mine …,” said Eddie, and Caroline could tell that Jake was uncomfortable. “You and the Benson guys used to go in there, right?”
“Well, not exactly, because it's been fenced in,” said Jake. “There's just the tunnel into the mountain.”
Eddie's eyes narrowed. “So you've only been over the fence?”
“Um … not exactly,” said Jake.
“You guys haven't even been near that old coal mine!” Eddie scoffed. “It's all hot air! It's all talk!”
“We have so been near it!” said Jake. “I've looked in there a thousand times!”
“Well, I'm going to go in it!” said Eddie. “I'm not going to leave Buckman until I've seen inside that old coal mine.”
Caroline and Beth looked at their sister in horror. Every so often Eddie did that. She just went out on a limb and said she was going to do things she never could. Or never should.
“Is there barbed wire on the top of the fence?” Eddie asked.
“No,” said Josh, “but it's a tall fence. Ten feet tall.”
“Is there a guard on duty?”
“No, but the sheriff drives by once in a while.”
“Is there a guard dog inside the fence?”
“Not that I've seen,” said Jake, “but—”
“Then I'm going in,” said Eddie.
“When?” asked Wally, looking astonished.
“I don't know. I'll have to case the place first. Anybody going in with me?”
“Not me,” said Beth. “You're nuts, Eddie.”
“Not me,” said Caroline.
Eddie looked at the Hatfords.
“I'm not going in any coal mine!” said Peter. “You're really going to get in trouble, Eddie. My dad said never, ever, ever go there!”
“I'm not going either,” said Wally.
“Count me out,” said Josh.
Eddie looked at Jake. There was a long pause.
“Okay,” Jake said. “If you find a way, I'm in.”
Caroline and Beth exchanged glances. They were not going to move out of Buckman. They were going to be kicked out of Buckman, Caroline was sure.
Six
Shadows
“Why didn't you tell her no?” Wally asked Jake as they went back across the swinging bridge in the near-darkness. “You'll only get in trouble, and you know it!”
“And have her call me chicken?” said Jake. “Relax. There's no way she can get in. The joke's on her. I'll go along like I'm ready to go in, and it'll be up to her to find a way to open the gate, which she won't be able to do.”
“I don't like it,” said Josh. “Eddie's going to keep pushing the limits until she makes us do something we don't want to.”
“Who says I don't want to?” Jake asked. “If she finds a way to get in, I'll go too.”
Wally didn't like this. Why couldn't the Malloys go? Just go! Now! Before anything happened.
“Don't say anything to Mom,” Jake warned Peter as they approached their house.
“I won't ! What do you think I am? A tattletale?” Peter asked.
As Wally lay in bed that night, he decided he was in the clear. Their parents would not let them go out at midnight, so he could stop worrying about the old Indian burial ground. He had told Jake and Eddie he would not go with them inside the old coal mine, so he wouldn't get in trouble there. They had already been to Smuggler's Cove, and nothing much had happened, so he was home free. Let Jake get in trouble. He was just asking for it.
Wally began to relax. He didn't have to show up at the Malloys' ever again if he didn't want to. He could spend the rest of the summer doing exactly what he wanted, which was … well, nothing.
Not exactly nothing, though. Because what was nothing to someone else might be something to Wally. For example, he was looking forward to spending one whole day trying to figure out how many different calls a mockingbird could make. He wanted to sit out on the porch and listen when a mockingbird perched on top of a telephone pole and began to sing. Usually the bird repeated each song twice, which would give Wally a chance to write down the call: robin, cardinal, wren, blue jay … But of course he didn't recognize all birdcalls, so maybe he should take a recorder….
Or maybe he would like to go a whole morning with his hand over his right eye, and all afternoon with his hand over his left, just to see which eye was stronger.
Or maybe he would climb through the trapdoor in the attic leading to the widow's walk on the roof, and sit up there on that little balcony and see if he could tell whenever the wind changed direction.
There was no end to the things Wally Hatford could think of to do on his own. Sometimes he just liked to get on his bike and ride around town. He'd try to memorize the streets going east from the library, and then the streets going west. Or he'd go to the Dairy Store and ask for a cup of “Today's Flavor” without knowing what it was, and then he would taste it and see if he could guess. Some people might think that Wally's life was boring, he knew, but there were so many things going on in his head, he didn't have a chance to be bored.
It was hot outside, though, even at night. Peter was right; during the day you couldn't step on the sidewalk barefoot. It was one of the hottest summers the East had ever had, the newspaper said—over a hundred degrees for five days in a row, even here in West Virginia. Maybe what Wally ought to do was wait until about two o'clock in the afternoon someday and then see if he really could fry an egg on the sidewalk.
Finally, hot and sweaty, Wally fell asleep, and he woke up even warmer than he'd been when he'd gone to bed. He rolled over and sat up, waiting to see if he could smell pancakes or anything. He couldn't. That meant it wasn't Sunday. He'd almost lost track of the days of the week.
He listened for any clink or clunk of spoons and bowls in the kitchen to tell him whether the twins were awake. He didn't hear any. But he did think he heard voices coming from somewhere, so he pulled on his shorts and T-shirt and went downstairs.
Not again! There were the Malloy girls sitting out on his front porch, and there was Peter with a fistful of chocolate chip cookies.
Wally's first thought was to ignore them and go to the kitchen for cereal. But he went upstairs instead and stuck his head into the twins' bedroom. “They're here again,” he said.
For a moment nothing happened. Then Jake rolled over and opened one eye. “What are you talking about?” he asked crossly.
“I just thought you'd want to know: the Malloys are sitting out on the front porch, feeding Peter chocolate chip cookies,” Wally said. Then he went back downstairs, through the hall, and into the kitchen, poured himself some Cap'n Crunch cereal, and mixed it with Cocoa Puffs.
Down the stairs came Jake and Josh. Wally could hear them whispering together in the hall. They crept into the kitchen.
“I'm not going out there,” said Josh.
“Me neither,” said Jake. “Peter can sit out there in his Donald Duck pajamas all day if he wants. But we didn't invite the girls over.” He took a bowl out of the cupboard, filled it to the top with Cocoa Puffs, and got the milk from the fridge.
The twins had just sat down at the table when they heard the front doo
r open and Peter say, “Come on out to the kitchen. You want some cereal?”
Jake was still in his boxer shorts and Josh was in his pajama bottoms. Upsetting the milk carton, Jake leaped from his chair and flew out the back door, Josh behind him. When the Malloy girls got to the kitchen, there was nothing to see but Wally calmly eating his Cocoa Puffs, and milk dripping onto the floor.
“Well!” said Eddie. “What have we here?”
“I invited them in for breakfast,” Peter told Wally, smiling broadly.
“It's okay, Peter. We've already had breakfast,” said Beth. “Where are Jake and Josh?”
There was the soft sound of the front door opening, then of footsteps on the hall stairs.
“They'll be down in a minute,” Wally said, and went on reading the comics.
Beth got a sponge from the sink and cleaned up the milk on the table and the floor. Then the girls sat down—like they owned the place, Wally thought.
When Jake and Josh entered the kitchen, dressed, they tried to act as though they'd just got up. It was too ridiculous.
“We've decided we want to see Knob Hill even if we have to go in daylight,” Eddie said. “So, we're ready.”
“Sure, why not?” Jake said, and poured himself another bowl of cereal.
“I found something really interesting,” said Beth. “I went to the Internet to look up Knob Hill and found out all sorts of fascinating things about it. Want to hear?”
“Sure,” said Josh. He put the milk back in the fridge.
“ ‘Knob Hill, Buckman, West Virginia,’ ” Beth read from a piece of paper she'd pulled out of her pocket. “ ‘This rounded hill west of the city was once the burial ground for a little-known tribe of Native Americans, known as the Shanatee. They were both admired and feared by neighboring tribes, due to a superstition regarding their shadows. It was said that if, on Knob Hill, the shadow of any person were to fall on the shadow of another, they would be the next two persons to die. When the tribes fought, therefore, neighboring warriors were reluctant go up the hill, for fear their shadows would touch. For this reason, the Shanatee had full possession of Knob Hill for many years, until the tribe mysteriously disappeared. It is generally believed that an epidemic wiped out this short-lived tribe, but legend has it that when the chief warrior died, the tribe committed mass suicide by walking across the face of the land and allowing their shadows to commingle.’ ”