Mystery of Drear House (12 page)

“I should’ve brought them back to start with,” she said. “I just didn’t think. See, this is
my
place. I wouldn’t let nothin’ bother the boys here.”

“What is this place?” Mr. Small asked. “You called it your place? And that other room. How long has this ... all been here?”

“Mama’s always known about the other room, and here, too,” she said. “Least that’s what I gather. She likes it kept neat and clean. I do that.”

Thomas spoke up. “And, Papa, Mrs. Darrow is ... I mean—” He paused, feeling sorry for Pesty, for Mrs. Darrow.

“See, my mama been sick all so many years,” she said to Mr. and Mrs. Small. “Long as I can remember, her mind mostly carry on in a time long ago.”

They were silent, listening to her. Finally Mr. Small said, “I see.”

“Pesty, these are children’s beds,” Mrs. Small said. “Children slept here. …” Her sleeping sons stirred at the sound of her voice.

“It’s the orphans’ place,” Pesty said. She told them about the orphans of slavery. They were the many children whose mothers and fathers had been sold away from them or had been killed. Next, she told about the doomed Indian maiden.

Thomas sat down on one of the beds. The Indian maiden wasn’t a ghost, he was thinking. Mrs. Small sat down beside her little sons. They had awakened. Billy crawled into her lap. Next came Buster, It was natural for them to wake up and find their mama.

Mr. Small leaned against a table. “It’s a sad tale,” he said, “but one of heroism, too. I assume the Indian maiden was part Indian and part black?”

“Mama just say that Coyote Girl was a native and a relative,” Pesty said.

“I understand,” said Mr. Small.

“Does Macky know that the Indian maiden was such a real person? Such a—a heroine?” Thomas asked.

“He knows,” she said.

So he meant to scare me out in the woods just to be mean, Thomas thought.

Mr. Small looked around the low room, aware of a vague scent from far-off times. “Does your brother know about this room,” he thought to ask, “and the other room?” He nodded toward the way they had come.

Pesty shook her head no. “You can go to there and on down the tunnel and into my mama’s closet and her bedroom,” she said. “He don’t know about that. You can’t get to this orphan room unless you know to. And he don’t know that either. Nobody but me and my mama and Mr. Pluto know about it. And now y’all.” She looked relieved to have them know.

“So many secrets,” Mrs. Small said. “Is it right for part of a family to keep secrets from the other part?” she asked gently.

“It’s what my mama wants,” Pesty said. “Everything to be as it was in the time of Coyote Girl—ain’t that a pretty name?”

Mr. Small smiled and nodded.

Something had caught Thomas’s eye. A box over there full of things. What looked like— He walked over and peered into the box of triangles. He picked up one, two and found that the triangles forced him to flex his arm muscles, they were so heavy. “Papa! There’s treasure here, too. Another treasure!” And another reason to keep Macky from knowing about this place, he thought. He’d surely tell his daddy, River Lewis, to get in good with him.

“Walter, let’s get the boys away from here,” Mrs. Small said.

“Just a minute, Martha,” Walter said. He went over to the box, picked up a triangle, and was astonished by its weight. With both hands he held it close to a lantern light. “A real one,” he murmured. “Martha, this is real gold! This whole box is full of solid gold triangles!”

“I told you about them in the picture frame on Mrs. Darrow’s bedroom wall,” Thomas said. “I knew they had to be real.” He looked at Pesty. She wouldn’t meet his gaze; she looked down at her hands.

“We should leave all this alone,” Mrs. Small said. She glanced around, shivering. “I don’t think we should bother anything. They have kept this secret so long, Pesty and her mother. It’s Mrs. Darrow’s. …” Her voice trailed off. She stared at Pesty, at a place behind her.

Pesty turned around, grinned. There stood tall Mrs. Darrow, darker than shadow and larger than was possible. But there she was. Something about her in this … evening light, Thomas thought. She’s not so odd in here.

They watched her as she looked over at the boys, safely on their mama’s lap. Her eyes gleamed at them with tender love. “Yes, girl. Rest them! The long way home,” she murmured.

They knew at once what she must be thinking.

Mr. and Mrs. Small and Thomas took their cue from Pesty. Gently now Pesty held Mrs. Darrow’s hands.

Mr. Small regarded the giant of a woman whom he was seeing for the very first time. It amazed him that the thought of Pesty’s mother had escaped him all this time. The Darrow men had been so dangerously on his mind he had never even considered the mother.

Mrs. Darrow’s lips moved. She murmured at the boys, her orphan children. She stirred, looking as though she would take her hands from Pesty’s and go to the boys.

Quickly Pesty said, “Coyote Girl can’t get through this time, Mama. So Mr. Walter and his people will take them boys.” She looked over at Mr. and Mrs. Small and Thomas.

“Ahh,” said Mrs. Darrow, “not my girl. They say many times she not come.”

“That’s right, Mama,” Pesty said. “You always told me she stopped coming for the children. That’s why Mr. Walter and Miz Martha taking them.”

Mr. Small went cautiously to the bed. Mrs. Small touched his arm. He nodded at her, meaning yes, he meant to take the boys. He motioned to Thomas. Mrs. Darrow watched them intently, but she made no move toward them.

Thomas picked up Billy in his arms. Mr. Small took up Buster. “Now, let’s move,” he said quietly to Thomas.

“Mama, we’re headed for the Drear house,” Pesty told her mother.

“The only escape,” Mrs. Darrow said. Without another word she swooped through the dark to lead, with Pesty following.

Mr. Small and Thomas, carrying the boys, and Mrs. Small made a tight circle.

“Fugitives went from here to the Drear house,” Mr. Small murmured. “Triangles gave them their direction and money they might need—”

Mrs. Small broke in. “Walter, I believe Mrs. Darrow is coming with us!”

“It’s all right, Martha,” he said.

“I can’t help feeling frightened,” she said in a hushed voice.

“I know, and it’s the atmosphere down here, too,” he said “But I don’t think Mrs. Darrow means any harm. … Take the lantern there, Martha. We’ll need to see our way. Only Pesty and her mother know their way in the dark.”

“W
ELL, HELLO THERE,
M
ATTIE,”
Mr. Pluto said to Mrs. Darrow. He was sitting in the kitchen, talking to Great-grandmother Jeffers.

Guess his tonic did him good! Thomas thought. Glad he and Great-grandmother got acquainted.

Pluto rose to greet Mattie Darrow as she came down the hall. “Mattie, I’m so glad you are up and around again.” He folded her to him. She was as tall as he.

I’ll be darn! Thomas thought. Mr. Pluto and Mrs. Darrow
are friends.

They all entered the Drear kitchen after traveling the tunnel back home and riding the turnaround wall in the upstairs bedroom. Mr. Small and Thomas put Billy and Buster down. The boys stood there, waving at Mr. Pluto.

Mr. Pluto grinned, nodded at them, and continued. “She was Mattie Bray long before she ever married River Lewis Darrow. We are good pals! But, you know, sometimes history will get knotted up inside.” He spoke softly. “You know that, don’t you, Mr. Small? You are a historical man.”

“Yes, I do know,” Mr. Small said.

“Sometimes,” Pluto went on, “history will turn itself around so, twist itself up so, it cause a mind to reel and tangle inside it.” He took his arms from around Mattie and led her to one of the kitchen chairs.

Mrs. Darrow sat, clutching the sides of the chair bottom. Pesty came to stand beside her. Mattie Darrow smiled up at Pluto. “Old Skinny,” she murmured.

He laughed. “She always did call me that, because my last name is Skinner. I
think
that’s why!” He laughed again. “Mattie,” he said, “Mother Jeffers has some soup you wouldn’t believe.”

Mattie glanced over at the steaming pot on the stove. “Hot pot,” she said, shaking her head, “dare not.”

“Good, Mama,” Pesty murmured. “Keep talking.”

“Oh, go ahead, dear,” Great-grandmother Jeffers said to Mattie. She went over to serve the soup, taking up a bowl and filling it from the pot. “Good vegetable soup. Martha made it before she left this morning, Mrs. Darrow,” she said.

“Walter’s people,” Mattie said, as Great-grandmother put down the soup and a spoon in front of her.

Mrs. Darrow understands a lot, Thomas thought. Being ill in the mind don’t mean you can’t think. Maybe it’s that you think too much the wrong way, too much of the time.

Billy and Buster scrambled up on the chairs on either side of Mrs. Darrow. She stared from one to the other as though they were an amazing sight. She’s seeing the orphan children, just alike, Thomas thought. Well, it can’t hurt. This whole morning is just something!

Billy and Buster eyed Mrs. Darrow’s soup.

“Eat, Mama,” Pesty told Mattie Darrow, holding the soup spoon up to her.

“Eat, Mama,” Billy and Buster said. They cocked their heads on opposite sides, staring from the soup to Mrs. Darrow, as she took the spoon.

“Eat, Mama?” they repeated, turning to Martha.

“Please, Mama?” Billy said.

Mattie Darrow chuckled with soup spoon in hand now and a full spoon of soup in her mouth. She swallowed, eyeing the boys, and turned to Mrs. Small. “Spoon the orphans!” she commanded her.

“Lord! I’m feeding them,” Martha whispered. She filled Billy’s and Buster’s bowls from the counter. She gave them each a teaspoon and a few crackers. Mattie touched her arm. Martha jumped. Then she understood. Something more than soup. She fixed a small plate of crackers and cheese for Mrs. Darrow.

Buster leaned over Mrs. Darrow’s plate. He looked up at her and carefully, not taking his eyes off her, took a piece of cheese and put it on his cracker. Then he took a second piece and put it on his brother’s cracker.

All the while Mrs. Darrow watched him but made no move to stop him. Then she began feeding Pesty some of her soup. Pesty ate it hungrily. Mattie kept her eyes on the boys, observing their every move.

“Thomas, why don’t you fix yourself and Pesty some soup?” his mama said.

“Okay,” Thomas answered. Pesty grinned at him.

“The boys will be finished soon,” Martha said. “You and Pesty can have their chairs. I need to warn them about getting into things. I’ll take them upstairs.”

“No!” said Buster.

“Cheese!” demanded Billy.

“Orphans, when do you leave?” Mattie Darrow hollered. The noise cut through the toddler voices of Billy and Buster. Mattie peered at them, her black, searing eyes pinning them where they were.

“They’re leaving in a minute,” hurriedly Mrs. Small thought to say. “Thomas, help me with them. Here’s a plate of cheese for them. Fellows, I’ve made hot chocolate for you to have in your room.”

“I’ll just go up with you-all,” Great-grandmother Jeffers said.

Martha sighed. “Good,” she said.

“Mr. Pluto, it was so nice of you to drop by,” Great-grandmother said.

“Well, I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other around here,” Pluto replied. “Good to talk to you.”

“Good,” Billy said. Finished eating, he got down from the table and stood beside Great-grandmother. Buster was right behind him.

Mrs. Darrow pushed back her chair and made to follow the boys. “Runnin’ away,” she said triumphantly.

“Oh, no,” Martha Small whispered. “Walter? Walter!”

Mr. Pluto cleared his throat. “Mattie. They go a new way,” he said.

Startled, Mattie Darrow’s hands flew to her face.

“But you and I, we’ll have to go over land,” Pluto told her. He smiled at her. “We daren’t all go together. Likely we’ll meet them on the road a ways.”

Mattie grabbed his hand in both of hers, ready to follow him.

“I’ll take her on back now,” Pluto said. He cleared his throat. “I’m a little hoarse,” he said generally. Oddly, he wouldn’t meet Mr. Small’s gaze.

Mattie tugged at his arm. She turned her hooded eyes on Pesty.

“Mama better get back before
folks
figure she ain’t in the bed,” Pesty said.

Meaning her brothers, Thomas thought, and her papa, Mr. “Mean” Darrow. He took his own brothers’ hot chocolate and a plate of crackers upstairs, then hurried back down again.

“She’s with me,” Pluto was saying when he came back.

“Mama, I’ll be along in a little while,” Pesty said.

“Best I take her back through the house?” Pluto asked Pesty, as solemnly Walter Small watched them.

What’s Papa thinking? Thomas wondered.

“Better, she slipped off out walking and stopped to see you,” Pesty told Pluto, “you bring her on back home. Then no chance of somebody bein’ in the bedroom and seein’ her come through that closet.”

“Huh,” Pluto said, nodding his agreement. “I’ll take her as far as the boundary of my place.” He knew Mattie would not want him to run into Darrow. He wouldn’t walk in on River Lewis for anything. “I’ll need something to keep her warm.”

Mr. Small got up. He walked around Pluto to the hallway, saying to him under his breath, “You knew about those rooms down there and the entrance to upstairs. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no need!” Pluto murmured. “It was Mattie’s secret. ...”

“She won’t get cold,” Pesty said. “Mama don’t feel the cold.”

Mr. Small called up the stairs to Martha for a blanket. She threw it down to him.

Pluto wrapped the blanket around Mattie. He patted her hand, said to Pesty, “She may not notice it, but she gets cold like anybody else. Mattie, let’s take us a walk in the snow. We’ll go for a little stroll.”

“Will there be war?” she asked in her odd, wispy voice.

“Mattie, Mattie! The war
been
over!” Pluto said.

She clapped her hands. “Daylight!” she exclaimed.

They went out the kitchen door, and Mr. Small, Pesty, and Thomas listened to their footsteps crunching in the snow.

“Still cold out,” Thomas said after a moment.

Mr. Small remained silent, looking at Pesty. Thomas sat next to her. His papa sat across the table from them. “Whew! Some morning!” Thomas said. But slowly he began to feel his papa’s somber mood. Pesty’s, too.