The Mandie Collection (67 page)

The young people hushed.

The preacher continued speaking. “ . . . and we want to ask for your prayers for little Hilda Edney, who is living with Mrs. Taft. She is very ill with pneumonia. Mrs. Tillinghast and her sister, Miss Rumler, also need our prayers at this time. They are both quite sick with the flu. Now let us pray.”

Mandie bowed her head with the rest of the congregation and joined in the prayers, especially for Hilda. She was worried about her. Dr. Woodard had to leave for home after dinner, and although there were other doctors in Asheville, she trusted her friend Dr. Woodard more than them all.

At the conclusion of the service, Ben waited for them as they shook hands with the preacher at the door and stepped out onto the porch.

On the way home, the young people discussed the newest development in the church mysteries.

“So someone was playing the organ at midnight,” Mandie said, trying to make some sense of it. “Well, I'd like to know how anybody got inside the church. It was all locked up when we left.”

“Maybe they were able to open the window where Uncle Ned removed the bars,” Joe reasoned. “Come to think of it, the preacher didn't mention that someone had torn the bars off that window.”

Mrs. Taft spoke up. “That's because I spoke to him before he preached and told him what happened to y'all last night,” she explained. “And I promised him I would pay for the damage.”

“So, since he knew who did it, he didn't mention it,” Mandie said. Suddenly she caught her breath in alarm. “I hope he doesn't think we've been doing all those other things.”

“Of course not, Amanda,” her grandmother assured her. “But I did tell him that y'all were trying to solve the puzzle for him.”

“You told him what we were doing?” Mandie gulped.

“What else was I to say when the damage was there?” Mrs. Taft replied. “It had to be explained some way.”

“You're right, Grandmother,” Mandie agreed. “I hope he doesn't mind our getting involved.”

Mrs. Taft smiled. “I'm sure no one will mind if y'all are able to solve this mystery,” she said.

Ben pulled the rig up in front of Mrs. Taft's house and helped her from the vehicle.

As the others climbed down, Mrs. Taft spoke to the driver again. “Come to the back sitting room in about two hours, Ben,” she instructed. “The doctor and Joe will be leaving as soon as we finish dinner, and then the girls have to return to school. I want to talk to you before you take them back.”

“Yessum, Miz Taft,” Ben replied, stepping back into the rig to move it from the front driveway. “I'll be dere.”

Inside the house, Dr. Woodard headed upstairs to check on Hilda while everyone else sat in the parlor, waiting for dinner to be put on the table. Mrs. Taft was strict with her servants on Sunday. She insisted that they attend their churches, and all the cooking for Sunday was done on Saturday so that when the cook came home from church, all she had to do was warm everything and put it on the table.

Mrs. Taft sat in a big overstuffed chair in the parlor and looked lovingly at her granddaughter. “Do you and Celia have your things together to take back to school, dear?” she asked.

“Yes, ma'am,” Mandie replied. “We're all ready. Are you going to send for us again next Friday?”

“If you and Celia want to come, of course, dear,” Mrs. Taft answered. “You know I am always glad to have you girls here with me anytime.”

“Thanks, Grandmother,” Mandie said. “I'm always so happy to get out of that school, and I imagine Celia is, too.”

Celia nodded.

“Especially when there's some kind of adventure going on,” Joe teased.

Mandie pretended to look hurt. “You won't be able to come next weekend, will you?” she asked.

“Not unless my father has to come back,” he said.

Dr. Woodard entered the room. “I still don't see any change in Hilda,” he said. “I've changed the treatment a little, and I hope that will make a difference. But for now, she's just not making any progress.”

“Oh, Dr. Woodard, couldn't I just open the door and peek in?” Mandie begged.

“No, I'm sorry, Amanda,” he replied. “You will all have to stay away from her room for the time being.”

“Will you be coming back next weekend to check on her?” Celia asked.

Mandie's eyes brightened as she looked at Joe, awaiting the answer.

“I'm not sure,” Dr. Woodard said. “We'll see.”

Mandie smiled at Joe.
At least he didn't say no
, she thought.

As soon as the noon meal was over, Dr. Woodard and Joe left in their buggy. Mrs. Taft retired to the back sitting room to talk to Ben.

Mrs. Taft told the Negro man to sit down. “Now, Ben, I want to know why you didn't stay right with Miss Amanda and her friends when you took them to the church last night,” she began.

“I stayed in de rig, Miz Taft,” Ben replied.

“But you fell asleep in the rig, and those young people were locked in the church,” she scolded. “If Uncle Ned hadn't come along when he did, there's no telling when they would have gotten out.”

“But, Miz Taft,” Ben replied. The girls could hear him scuffing his feet nervously. “You see, it's like dis heah—I ain't s'posed to go in white folks' church.”

“That's nonsense, Ben, and you know that,” Mrs. Taft argued. “You know as well as I do that there's a gallery in that church where the colored people are all welcome to come and join in our services. There's no reason in this world why you can't go inside a white people's church.”

“I don't go in dat gallery neither, ma'am,” Ben replied. “You go to yo' church. I goes to mine. You white. I'se a Negro.”

“You are not obligated to attend church with white people, Ben, but you are obligated to carry out my instructions,” Mrs. Taft said firmly. “That's what I pay you for—to do what I ask you to do. Now, I don't want to hear any more nonsense. If you want to keep your job, you'll have to do whatever the job requires. Is that understood?”

“I understands, Miz Taft,” Ben replied. “If you say dat's part of my job, den I does my job next time.”

“Thank you, Ben. I knew I could depend on you,” Mrs. Taft said. “You know it isn't long until Christmas, and I always give the pay raises at Christmas.”

“Yessum, Miz Taft. You sho' does.”

“You are not to let the girls out of your sight again when I have left them in your care,” Mrs. Taft continued. “Not out of your sight for one minute. Can I depend on you next time they go somewhere?”

“Yessum. Yessum. You kin 'pend on me.”

“Thank you. Now get the rig around to the front door,” Mrs. Taft said. “It's about time for the girls to go back to school.”

“Yessum.”

Minutes later, the girls were reluctantly on their way back to school. When they arrived, Ben took their luggage to their room. The girls stopped to speak to Miss Hope, whom they met in the front hallway.

“I hope you young ladies had a nice weekend,” Miss Hope said in greeting.

“Yes, ma'am, we did,” the girls replied together. “Did you?”

“We've had a little sickness here this weekend,” Miss Hope informed them. “Two of the girls came down with flu—Mamie Wright and Betty Blassingame. They both went home. Mamie just lives over in Hendersonville, and Betty lives out in the country near here, so their parents came and got them.” Miss Hope looked worried. “I do hope we don't have an epidemic here in the school.”

“Hilda has pneumonia. She's real bad off,” Mandie told her.

“Oh, dear, I'm sorry,” Miss Hope replied. “I'll be praying for her, and I'll pray that you two don't come down with it.”

“Thank you, Miss Hope,” the girls said.

“Hurry along, now, and get freshened up for supper,” the schoolmistress told them as she continued down the hall.

As soon as the girls were sure she was out of sight, they took the steps, two at a time, up to their third-floor room.

“Well, I guess it's all lessons until Friday,” Mandie said, pushing open the door to their room.

Celia followed, and both girls quickly removed their coats and bonnets and started to lay them on the bed. Instantly they jumped back and screamed.

There in the middle of the bed, on top of the counterpane, lay a dead mouse!

At the sound of their screams, Miss Prudence, who had been walking by, jerked the door open. “What are you—?” She saw the mouse, turned pale, and without a word slammed the door, running down the hallway, calling for Uncle Cal.

Mandie and Celia backed away from the bed and stood frozen there in terror.

“Sh-she's afraid of m-mice, too,” Mandie managed to say.

Celia moved toward the door. “I'm g-g-getting out of here,” she said, backing out of the room.

In seconds Uncle Cal appeared with a garbage bucket and a brush in his hand. “Where dat so-an'-so mouse, now, Missy?” the Negro man asked. He spotted it at once. Quickly turning the bucket sideways, he brushed the dead mouse inside. “All gone, now, Missy,” he announced as he headed out the door.

Mandie's heart was pounding. “Oh, thank you, Uncle Cal,” she said. “Thank you.”

As he went out the door, Aunt Phoebe hurried in, carrying a clean bedspread. She quickly pulled off the one on the bed and replaced it with the one she had brought.

Mandie still trembled with fright. “Aunt Phoebe, do you suppose that's the mouse we found in the chifforobe?” she asked shakily.

Celia came back inside the room to hang up her coat.

“I don't be knowin,' Missy,” the old Negro woman said, smoothing the wrinkles out of the fresh counterpane. “But I tells you one thing. Miss Prudence, she be knowin' now dat mouse was real!”

“And Miss Prudence was afraid of it, too, just like us,” Celia added.

“I hope she does something about it,” Mandie said. “I think someone put that thing on our bed, and I hope we find out who did it.”

“We find out,” Aunt Phoebe promised.

CHAPTER EIGHT

MORE TROUBLE

Days passed slowly that week for Mandie and Celia at school. They longed for Friday to come so they could return to Grandmother Taft's and continue their investigation of the mystery.

The newspaper had declared a flu epidemic in the town of Asheville. Hundreds of people were ill, and the people in the town were blaming it on the mysterious happenings at the church. The bells continued ringing thirteen at midnight and the wrong number of rings at other hours during the day.

By Thursday of that week over half of the school had come down with the flu.

Miss Prudence addressed the students at breakfast on Thursday morning. “Young ladies,” the headmistress began, looking around at the girls as they stood behind their chairs, “as you know, many of our students have contracted that dreadful flu that is going around town. We don't want it to spread any further here if possible. Therefore, classes will be dismissed until the epidemic is over.”

The girls all looked at each other. It was unheard of for any of the students to speak out without being asked, but this particular morning Mandie forgot about the rules and dared asked a question. “Does that mean we can all go home, Miss Prudence?”

The headmistress looked sharply at Mandie, and Mandie cringed.

“Amanda, you have not asked permission to speak,” the headmistress reprimanded. “However, since we want to get this settled as quickly as possible, I will answer your question. Yes, the girls who live near enough to come back at short notice may go home. We believe that you who are not sick are less likely to come down with this illness if you are in your own homes. Does that answer your question, Amanda?”

“Thank you, Miss Prudence,” Mandie said. “Then I have permission to go to my grandmother's while classes are out?”

“That is correct,” Miss Prudence replied. “But you girls who live a long distance away will have to stay here.”

Celia looked at Mandie and without moving her lips, she whispered, “That means I don't get to go home. It's too far.”

Mandie kept her gaze on Miss Prudence but muttered under her breath, “You can go to Grandmother's with me. We'll ask.”

Miss Prudence continued, “You girls may leave the school as soon as you can make arrangements to go home. Beginning today, there will be no classes until further notice. Now let us give thanks for this food.”

After breakfast Miss Prudence gave Celia permission to go with Mandie. The two girls could hardly wait for Uncle Cal to take them to Grandmother Taft's house. Hurrying to their room, they hastily threw things into bags and laid out their coats and bonnets.

“We don't know how long we'll be staying, so I guess we'd better take plenty of clothes,” Mandie advised.

“Right,” Celia agreed. “I'm sorry those girls are so sick, but this is good luck for us.”

“I hope they all get well soon,” Mandie said, dropping her school books into a bag. “I think I'll take some of my books so I can study a little now and then while we're at Grandmother's.”

“That's a good idea. Then we won't get too far behind,” Celia replied. She added some of her own books to her bag. “We'll be having our half-year examinations after the Christmas holidays, and that's not very far away. It seems like we've had so many holidays—and now this unexpected time out.”

“We're lucky Grandmother lives right here in town,” Mandie said. “All we have to do is wait for Uncle Cal to take us. And just think, we'll have a little extra time to work on the mystery.”

“We won't have Joe to help us, though,” Celia reminded her.

Mandie flopped down on the bed. “Well,” she said, “as long as Grandmother lets Ben go with us, we can try to solve something.”

“Miss Prudence told us to take our things down to the front hall, remember?” Celia prompted.