The Secret Summer

Secret summer by Amanda Stogsdill

"Are we there yet?" Angie whined for the hundredth time, "How much longer?"

"Another hour. Now enough fussing." Mom scolded, glaring at her impatient daughter from the passenger seat. Dad drove silently, but grunted in agreement.

"Do we have to share a room?" Libby grumbled, "She never shuts up!" Their parents replied that no, the girls wouldn't be forced to share.

"Good!" Both grinned in relief. The once-bickering sisters spent the rest of the journey in contented silence.

"We're here! Finally." Angie leapt out, twirling around in front of their rented house. Small, but neatly kept, with a swing and a small fenced yard.

"Look. A shed!" Dad nodded at the large building.

"Can we see our rooms?" The girls asked, running up the wooden steps. Leaving their luggage, everyone trooped inside.

For many minutes, all that could be heard were opening doors, and exclamations of "I want this one." And, "This is awesome." The exhausted parents smiled. This much-needed vacation might be a success, after all.

Lugging her case to her room, Angie gazed around. Closet, bed with a flowery bedspread, and a bookcase. Her window looked out to the backyard. A tree grew nearby, its thick branches nearly touching the house.

In the living room, there was a small selection of board games and DVDS. Libby was annoyed when she was unable to get cell service. "There's woods and a beach to explore." Dad reminded her. Angie hoped she and Libby could ignore one another for the summer.

After a hot dog and macaroni dinner, Angie sat in the swing until it grew dark. She hoped this would be the best vacation ever! The stillness surprised her. Would it be like this every day? Are there any kids nearby?

 Angie's first night in her own room was a terrifying one! Leaves rustled, and the tree's branches scratched at her window. Was that a dog howling? Creak! Did that closet door open by itself? Restlessly, she closed the door, but it refused to shut properly. Furiously shoving her suitcase against it, she climbed back into bed. Finally, sleep claimed her.

The next few days were busy with the sisters exploring their summer home. The shed held bikes, and garden tools. "Help!" Libby shrieked.

"What?" Dad came running. "Just a spider. Kill it with this!" Angie taunted Libby, until Mom said enough was enough!

Libby reported they had neighbors, a family who lived on the other side of the woods. "Their son August is cute." She giggled. Angie rolled her eyes. "Their daughter's your age." She continued, poking Angie.

"Okay. How do we meet them?" Mom asked, always practical. Libby explained they were eager for company, so were welcome to show up anytime.

Angie had a stranger experience. Her closet was still terrifying, but the old-fashioned key fascinated her. She'd discovered it her second evening—a rainy one. After unpacking, she'd found the brass key in a drawer! It was heavy, and cold. She tried it on every door in the house, without success. She decided to keep this secret from Libby.

The day after Libby's news, following her directions, Angie set out to meet her neighbors. Down the path and through some trees, then past a stream. Turning right, she came upon a stone house by itself in a clearing. Painted every color of the rainbow, it looked like a storybook house, minus the gingerbread windows.

A bored-looking girl was jumping rope on the porch. "Hi!" Angie smiled, waving.

"Hi." The girl threw down her rope, and literally cartwheeled in front of the astonished Angie. "You're here! I'm Summer. Your sister said you'd come." Her green eyes danced, and her thick braids flopped.

"Really?" Angie blinked. "Do you live here?"

"Yeah, we love it here. Better than the city." Summer skipped in a circle, Angie wished she'd stop. "Want to meet my parents?" Looking like she'd be heartbroken if refused, Angie followed Summer inside.

"Wow!" Angie gasped, eyes wide. She'd never seen anything like it. Deer heads decorated the walls, fur rugs lay scattered on the wood floor. And the smell, a combination of cinnamon and spices! Angie sniffed appreciatively. "Does your Mom cook?"

"No. That's candles!" Summer beamed, "Everyone's in here." Opening a door, she called, "Mom, Dad. The neighbor girl's here!"

"Hello." Two paint-smeared people waved their brushes at Angie. "I'm Angie!" She introduced herself.

"Mom. Can we bake cookies?" Summer waited, expecting an answer.

"Sure. Share with the neighbors, too." Both turned back to their canvases. From what Angie could see, they were splattered with just one color, more sat ready nearby.

As the girls baked a batch of chocolate cookies, Summer chattered about her life. Angie learned that driving into town was an event, and how the school bus couldn't reach Summer. "Mom teaches me." Summer grinned, shrugging. "I'm glad you're here. I do get lonely sometimes." She admitted.

The aroma of baking chocolate filled the house, drawing Summer's parents from their work. "Delicious!" They sampled and exclaimed.

The warm days were busy; both families enjoyed one another's company. Barbecues, swimming, and trips into town passed the time. Libby and August behaved like teenagers, flirting and giggling.

For the girls, their summer took off two weeks later. On a gloomy, overcast day, they investigated Angie's creepy closet. "It's enormous!" Immediately, Summer crawled inside, all the way to the back. "Like Narnia." She laughed.

Angie hung back, still fearful. Then, she pinched herself. It's daylight, nothing to be afraid of. Once inside, Angie hoped the door wouldn't slam. She blinked, letting her eyes adjust. Pulling a flashlight from her pocket, she swept it around. Its beam caught something on a high shelf. "Summer, look!" Angie pointed to a box on the shelf. She rushed over, having already explored the large space.

Standing on a stool, Angie lifted the box down. Covered in dust, it appeared quite old. "Open it!" Summer coaxed. Tugging the handle, the box refused to open. "See that?" Summer examined the box, finding the keyhole. "There must be a key!" Summer exclaimed.

Angie produced her unknown key, sliding it into the lock. The box opened easily. Inside were a pink ribbon, a torn scrap of paper, and a yellow button. "Wow! Whose are they?" Angie fingered the silk ribbon.

"Listen to this! Summer read: “Keep her safe! I'll miss... Call her....`

"That's it." Summer held out the torn paper. The handwriting was perfect, every line legible. The paper wasn't dirty, just torn along one side. "Cool." Summer bounced on her toes, "I love a treasure hunt."

"I know. Should we show our parents?" After some discussion, they agreed to hold off. "Let's see what we can find on our own! There's a library in town! It's not far, so walking won't be a problem." Summer's eyes lit up with the excitement of the mystery. Even Angie was thrilled with their own secret! "When can we go?" She asked.

"Tomorrow. Mom and Dad will be busy painting, so won't notice anything." After Angie carefully placed the box on the shelf, the girls explored the rest of the house. Angie's bookcase held old books, nothing more. Walls were tapped, every cupboard and small space examined. No other mystery revealed itself. Disheveled, they were called to supper, another barbecue in Angie's backyard.

"What were you girls doing? You're awfully dusty." Angie's Mom commented, raising her eyebrows.

"Exploring the house." Angie replied casually.

The next morning after a hurried breakfast, Angie biked to Summer's. Their ride to the library was brisk. Being Saturday, there was lots of activity. Summer pretended not to care when they heard Story Hour in progress. In loud voices, several small costumed children were repeating the fairy tale along with the librarian.

In the young adult section, Angie walked up to the desk. A teenager sat there, earbuds in, ignoring everything. A pin on her shirt said Library Assistant. "Hello!" Angie had to repeat herself before she was noticed.

"What can I do for you?" Why is she here? Angie thought. She explained about the metal box, and asked if there was any way of discovering its owner.

"Yeah! They might want their stuff back!" Summer added.

"Well, there may be something about your house online. Have you checked?" The girl perked up.

"No service." Libby was still grumpy that Dad had chosen that house.

"Let me see. What's your address?" At a computer, the teen began typing, the girls peering eagerly over her shoulder. "I've found the man who rents out the house." She clicked on a photo, "He's ugly!"

All three giggled, studying the image. Tall, with dark hair and brown eyes, he reminded Angie of one of her teachers. He even wore glasses! "If you know where he's staying now, you could call him." The library assistant suggested.

"Cool. What's your name?" Angie thought she could pass this news on to Libby.

"Sylvia. Let me know what you find. I've heard stories about that house!"

"Like what?" Angie's curiosity was aroused.

"Oh, something about a fire. How the people died tragically, burnt alive." Sylvia lowered her voice, "At night, you can still smell smoke, they say!" Grinning to herself, she watched the amateur detectives leave the library.

"Mom, was there a fire here?" They were having tacos for dinner; Angie's question made everyone pause. Dad swallowed his lettuce, then asked, "Where did you hear that?"

Angie explained about meeting Sylvia, just not the real reason for being there. Libby glanced up, interested in this new girl.

"All I know is this is an old house, my friend Ben Williams rents it out when he's traveling." Dad replied.

"No, there certainly wasn't a fire. Sylvia was trying to scare you!" Mom's fork scraped her plate with that shrill sound Angie hated.

That night, Angie's imagination went into overdrive. Twice, she awoke, certain she'd heard crackling flames and smelled smoke. The closet door still creaked, even with stuff piled against it. Listening to Christmas tunes, she eventually drifted off.

Angie ignored her family's greetings the next morning. "You're the wicked stepsister!" Mom placed a platter of eggs and bacon on the table. Angie didn't reply, still groggy, and furious at Sylvia. She'd awoken to Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire! Perhaps a swim or bike ride would shake off her fears.

Returning home that evening, Angie felt refreshed. Over hamburgers and cake, the family played catch up. Libby had met Sylvia, their parents talked about seeing a movie. Angie actually laughed at a joke her sister told, although it was lame. Tonight will be different! She told herself. I'm tired, nothing will keep me awake!

Alas, it wasn't to be. Rain hammered down, accompanied by loud booming thunder, and terrible lightning. Why couldn't my window have curtains? Pulling the blankets up, she tried to doze off. Thinking about Summer helped. They'd raced in the woods, made ramps out of old boards, and ate ice cream. Shopping in the small store was fun. Angie bought a toy castle, a ballerina, and surprises for annoying Libby.

Another trip to the library had positive results. The regular teen librarian was able to find the previous owner, sadly deceased. She couldn’t say for sure, but rumors spread about an illegitimate child.

"Can I trade rooms?" Angie surprised Libby the next afternoon.

"Why?"

"I don't like the color. And it's too small." She crossed her fingers.

"No way! I've arranged my room perfectly, I'm not switching. You should have thought of that before." Turning on her heel, Libby strode away, probably to meet August.

Nothing more was said. Summer and Angie continued to puzzle out their mystery. They phoned Mr. Williams, after Sylvia tracked down his address. Would he even respond?

One night, Sylvia slept over. Angie hoped she'd sleep without revealing her fear of the dark. They ordered pizza, played scrabble, and watched a DVD. The Princess Bride

always made Angie laugh, Summer had never seen it! She enjoyed it, too. The rest of the evening was spent quoting the characters' famous lines. Somehow, a squeaking mouse found its way into Libby’s bed. Summer wished Angie could stay there forever. Around ten-thirty, they fell asleep immediately.

"You awake?" Sylvia whispered hours later. Angie stirred, wondering if she was dreaming. "Did you hear that?"

Angie listened; the closet again! Crossing the room, she positioned her suitcase under the door.

One muggy afternoon, Libby Angie, and Sylvia went for a swim. Angie disappeared in to the chilly water, the teens sun bathed. Angie won the shower argument. Dressed, she went to the swing. She heard both girls giggling in the kitchen.

“How’s your room?” Sylvia asked innocently. Angie replied it was fine.

“You know, that fire happened where you sleep!” Sylvia’s eyes sparkled, “Pleasant dreams.”

“There wasn’t a fire.” Angie shouted, “Stop scaring me.”

“I get it. You want to switch rooms. That's why, isn't it?" Libby jeered, "You think it's haunted!" She and Sylvia howled with laughter. Angie felt her face grow red with embarrassment, tears stinging her eyes. Why did Sylvia have to ruin her and Summer's mystery, anyway?

"I hate you!" She screamed, hurling a book at Libby.

When their parents returned, both girls shouted at once. After shouting for quiet, Mom heard Angie's side first. Still furious, Angie blurted out the whole story. Libby and their parents were amazed. "That was very foolish of you. Mr. Williams was generous letting us rent his house. You shouldn't have gone through his belongings!" Dad glared at his youngest. Libby smirked, which made Angie even angrier.

“You have a letter!” Dad handed it to Angie. Racing to Summer’s, she couldn’t wait to read it. After Summer finished her chores, they disappeared to her room. Tearing it open, they read about Gracie.

She was the adopted daughter of the previous owner. Mr. Williams had completely forgotten her box was still in that closet. He advised the girls to leave it where it was. Gracie never knew her mother. Gracie also never knew she was adopted, believing her Mom had died. She was really a poor woman, unable to care for Gracie. And no, there wasn’t a fire. A small fire became out of control in the woods many years ago, no one died.

“Mystery solved!” Summer folded the letter with a satisfied smile.

“I suppose.” Angie nodded.

That night, she slept soundly for the first time. No creaking door. It was like Gracie’s box was finally silent.

On their last night, Summer’s parents threw a surprise party for Angie’s family at their house.

Dinner was great, not barbecue, but pizza! The librarians came, bringing books “to keep yourselves occupied on your long journey.”

Waving goodbye, the family left early next morning. Angie and Summer promised to keep in touch. Angie would miss the house, though not the closet. It was very strange, Gracie’s story. She had a story to tell her classmates this year.

The end