The Mandie Collection (68 page)

Mandie jumped up and grabbed two bags. “We'll have to make two trips,” she said.

“If we put our coats and bonnets on, we won't have to carry them, and we'll have two hands free to carry the bags,” Celia suggested.

“You're right,” Mandie laughed. “I'm in such a hurry, I'm not thinking right.”

After putting on their coats and bonnets, the girls picked up two large bags each. They made their way down the stairs to the alcove in the front hallway. Just as they sat down to watch out the window for Uncle Cal, they saw him bringing the rig up the driveway. They grabbed their bags and went outside to meet him.

“Uncle Cal, I sure hope you and Aunt Phoebe don't get that flu,” Mandie told the old man.

“I do, too, Missy Manda,” he replied, putting the bags in the rig. “We'se too old to git dat kind of sickness. Might be bad. Old people die easier than you young ones.”

“Please be real careful, and stay away from the sick ones as much as you can,” she said, as she and Celia stepped into the rig.

“We has to he'p, Missy Manda,” Uncle Cal said, picking up the reins. “Dat's whut we be heah fo.' Sick folks gotta have he'p, too.”

“Maybe Dr. Woodard will come to town and help doctor the sick ones,” Mandie said. “Hilda is real sick, according to the note I got from Grandmother yesterday, so he'll probably come back to see her.”

True to her prediction, the next day, as Mandie and Celia sat looking out Mrs. Taft's parlor window, Dr. Woodard pulled his buggy up into the front driveway. The girls jumped up and ran to the front door to greet him.

Mandie opened the door. “Oh, Joe!” Mandie exclaimed. “How did you manage to come, too?”

Dr. Woodard followed his son into the front hallway as they exchanged greetings and removed their coats and hats.

“The Swain County schools closed today,” Joe explained. “The flu hasn't reached that far yet, but they hope that by closing the schools it won't spread as far if someone comes down with it.”

Mrs. Taft came into the hall to greet them. “Do come into the parlor to warm yourself before you go up to see Hilda,” Mrs. Taft said to Dr. Woodard.

Joe followed the others into the parlor. Making his way with his father over to the hearth where the fire was blazing, he rubbed his hands together to warm up.

Snowball, curled up asleep on the rug, opened one eye to see who was invading his place at the hearth, then dozed off again.

Mandie sat on a stool near the hearth and looked up at Dr. Woodard. “Our school is closed temporarily, too,” she said. “About half of the girls have come down with the flu.”

“I'm glad they closed,” the doctor replied, turning to warm his back in front of the fire. “Maybe it won't spread anymore.”

Mrs. Taft sat down on the settee. “Did you know how bad the epidemic was here?” she asked.

“That's why I came to Asheville,” the doctor replied. “To see what I could do to help the local doctors. We're lucky in Swain County. We don't have a single case yet.”

“What about in Franklin?” Mandie asked, a little worried. “Is there any flu there?”

“Not that I know of, Amanda,” Dr. Woodard replied. “I don't think you have to be concerned about your mother and your Uncle John. The flu all seems to be centered right here in Asheville.”

“The newspaper says people are blaming it on the goings-on down at the church,” Mrs. Taft told him, “as if that could bring on an epidemic.”

“People can get some funny ideas sometimes when they can't figure out what's going on,” Dr. Woodard said, sitting down in an armchair nearby.

“We're going to solve the mystery,” Mandie announced. “Then they'll know how crazy their idea is.”

Mrs. Taft looked at her granddaughter and smiled. “I certainly hope y'all can put an end to whatever's going on, Amanda,” she said, “but I think it will take some doing.”

Dr. Woodard went upstairs to see Hilda. He returned a short time later, shaking his head. “She's just about the same,” he reported. “The nurse said she has been able to force a few spoonfuls of broth down Hilda's throat now and then, and she has been taking water, but she seems to just lie there, unaware of what's going on around her.”

The young people planned to go to the church the next morning. But it didn't work out that way.

Mandie and Celia woke early when Annie crept into the room. Trying not to disturb them, she started a fire in the fireplace. The girls, half asleep, lay there silently until Annie had left and the fire began to warm the room.

“Today's an important day,” Mandie told her friend. “Let's get dressed and go downstairs. Joe may be already eating breakfast. He's always so hungry.” Jumping out of bed, she reached for her clothes.

Celia stretched for a moment, then followed.

Snowball, who was curled up at the foot of the bed, leaped down to the floor to avoid being covered by the bedclothes the girls threw back. Finding a nice warm place by the fire, he curled up to go back to sleep.

Mandie laughed. “Look at Snowball,” she said. “He doesn't want to get up.”

“I didn't either,” Celia remarked as she hastened into her clothes. “It was so warm in that bed.”

When they finished dressing, the girls hurried quietly down the stairs to the breakfast room. Joe was already there, sitting at the table with a huge plate of food in front of him. But what caught their attention was the fact that the opened curtains displayed a heavy downfall of snow.

“Oh, no!” Mandie cried, rushing to look out the window.

“Oh, yes,” Joe replied. “It's probably a foot deep out there already, and it just keeps coming.”

Celia stood beside Mandie, surveying the white-blanketed outdoors. “We can't go out in that,” she moaned.

Mandie turned away from the window to the sideboard where platters of food awaited them. “Maybe Grandmother will let us go out for a little while,” she said, helping herself to the food.

“I'm pretty positive she won't,” Joe disagreed, hastily eating his food. “She'll be afraid you'll get sick if you roam around in all that snow. Besides, the roads would have to be cleared off before Ben could get the rig through.”

When the girls had filled their plates, they joined Joe at the table.

“What about your father?” Mandie asked. “Will he be able to get out to see the sick people?”

“He always does,” Joe said. “With all the snow we have in Swain County, he knows how to manage. He leaves the buggy at home and rides his horse. That horse is used to snow, and it's easier to get around on horseback than it is to drive a buggy.”

“That's an idea,” Mandie said, looking up at the others. “Maybe we could ride some of Grandmother's horses to the church.”

Joe looked doubtful. “I'd say that as long as it's snowing, you might as well be content to sit here in the house,” he told her. “Your grandmother won't let you go out.”

Joe was right. Mrs. Taft firmly told the young people there would be no traipsing around in the snow outside. She didn't want them to get sick. And they could fall and have an accident. She was responsible for Celia, too.

Dr. Woodard strapped his medical bag onto the saddle he borrowed from Mrs. Taft for his horse and carefully made his way around town visiting sick people.

The next day, which was Saturday, was still snowy and cold. The newspaper reported a long list of deaths caused by the flu epidemic. Complaints about the mysterious goings-on at the church filled the paper. People blamed the church for the town's bad luck—first the flu and now the terrible snowstorm. Some even dared suggest that the church be torn down if the members couldn't solve its troubles.

It continued to snow and snow. More and more people continued to fall ill. The young people sat in the house, fussing because they couldn't get at the mystery. Early Sunday, the snow quit, but it was almost waist-deep in places. People were out early trying to shovel
the snow off the main streets in town because there were no city employees to do such a job.

One of the preacher's farmhands came by Mrs. Taft's house with the message that Rev. Tallant had come down with the flu, and there would be no service at the church that morning. The church would be unlocked, he said, for anyone wanting to go there and pray, but there would be no service. The young people stood in the kitchen listening as the man talked to Mrs. Taft and drank hot coffee.

As soon as the man left, Mandie asked her grandmother, “Could we all just go to the church, anyway, this morning?”

“Amanda, you can pray here at the house as well as you can at the church,” Mrs. Taft told her.

“It's a shame that we let the weather keep us away from the Lord's house,” Mandie replied.

“Amanda!” Mrs. Taft scolded. “That's only your attempt to get at the mystery.”

Dr. Woodard came through the back door, stomping his feet. He unbuttoned his heavy coat. “Cold out there!” he announced, removing his coat.

“Hurry on in to the fire in the parlor,” Mrs. Taft invited, “and I'll get Ella to bring you some hot coffee.”

“Did you get through the roads all right?” Mandie asked eagerly.

“Well, yes, the roads are pretty clear,” Dr. Woodard said. “And I noticed Ben has even cleared the driveway here. But the snow is piled up higher than my head along the sides of the road. It really snowed!”

Mandie followed her grandmother and the doctor to the parlor as Celia and Joe tagged along behind.

As the adults took chairs by the fire, Mandie sat on a stool nearby. “Grandmother,” she said, “Dr. Woodard says the roads are clear. Couldn't we go to the church for a little while? Please?”

“There's no service this morning,” Dr. Woodard told her. “I've just been to Reverend Tallant's. He's a sick man.”

“We got that message a little while ago,” Mrs. Taft said. She looked over at Mandie. “I suppose you may go if Ben goes with you all and stays right by your side. But you must promise to be gone no longer than two hours. We'll be having dinner in a little over two hours.”

“I promise,” Mandie said quickly. “Thank you, Grandmother.” “Thank you, Mrs. Taft,” Celia echoed.

Joe stood next to his father. “Do I have permission to go, too?” he asked.

Dr. Woodard looked at the young people's happy faces. “I suppose so,” he said, “but remember what Mrs. Taft told you. Stay right with Ben, and be back within two hours.”

The young people hastily grabbed their coats and hats and boots. They had no idea what they would do at the church, but they were eager to get there and look around.

This time Ben stayed with them. Inside the church, he stopped at the back of the sanctuary and looked around.

There was nobody else in the church. Evidently no one had come to pray. The young people searched the church. Ben held his breath as Mandie and Joe scaled the rope ladder to the belfry.

“Lawsy, Missy!” Ben gasped. “Miz Taft'll skin you alive if she ketch you a-doin' dat.”

Halfway up the ladder, Mandie called down to him. “She probably did the same thing when she was young.”

When they came back down, Ben followed them back into the sanctuary.

“Let's go down into the basement,” Mandie suggested.

Ben took a seat in the back pew. “I stays right heah and watch de front do,' ” he said. “I lets you know if'n somebody come in dis time.”

“That's a good idea, Ben,” Mandie called back to the Negro driver as she and the others headed for the basement.

There was no disturbance of any kind down there and no sign of anyone else being around.

The bells started ringing. The young people stopped to count, then ran through the church and up to the belfry. As they got there, the bells gave one last ring.

“It's eleven o'clock,” Celia said, following Joe and Mandie to the rope ladder. “And the bells rang twelve.”

They again went up into the belfry but could find no sign of anyone having been there.

“Guess we might as well go back to your grandmother's house,” Joe said.

“I suppose so,” Mandie agreed. “I was hoping we'd find something else here.”

In the meantime, Ben, sitting on the back pew, stretched out his long legs to get comfortable and maybe take a nap. The toe of his boot caught in a loose thread in the edge of the carpet runner that ran the length of the pew. The rug was tacked to the floor and he reached down to disentangle his shoe.

“Now whutdat?” the Negro man mumbled to himself, as he felt a lump under the carpet where it had come loose.

He withdrew his boot from the thread and felt along the carpet. Poking under it with one finger he pushed out an old dirty key. Picking it up, he examined it, but he didn't know how to read and there was some kind of writing on the key.

“Oh, well,” he said to himself, tossing the key in the air and then putting it in his pocket.

He stretched his legs back out, careful not to disturb the loose carpet. But the young people were there before he had a chance to take a nap.

“We're ready to go, Ben,” Mandie told him as they picked up their coats and hats. “We haven't found a thing.”

Ben stood up. “Dem bars on dat window, is dey still pulled off?” he asked.

“They're still off,” Mandie replied. “Grandmother promised to pay for the damages we did, but she hasn't had time yet to get them fixed, I suppose.”

“I s'pose somebody could be comin' and goin' through dat window whilst dem bars ain't on it,” Ben told them.

The young people looked at each other.

“You're right, Ben,” Joe agreed. “It would be easy to open that spring latch on the window with a knife and then close it back. No one would know it was ever open.”

“Well, we can't just sit down there by that window waiting for someone to come in,” Celia argued.