I got up early and had breakfast with Freddie. He made me sit at the table while he got us bowls of Cocoa Puffs mixed with miniature marshmallows, raisins and milk.
“No bugs or snakes in here?” I asked him before taking my first bite. The spoonful tasted surprisingly good.
He grinned. “Nah. I like you.” His red hair was sticking up all over his head in tufts, and he was wearing navy pajamas covered in spacemen.
“Remind me to stay on your good side.” I grinned back.
Kerry’s mom drove me back to the lake around ten. Kerry was still in bed getting her beauty sleep. She’d rolled over and grunted at me while I collected my stuff. I was just as glad not to have to make small talk. A resolve was taking root in my belly. I wasn’t going to listen to any more gossip from Kerry and her friends. I wasn’t going to believe the worst of Audrey without proof. I was going to track Audrey down and find out what was really going on.
I waved goodbye to Mrs. Randall and trudged up the path to Grandma’s, carrying my knapsack. The rain clouds seemed close and heavy, and the ground was wet from an earlier rain shower. I could smell the earth, warm and rich. I breathed deeply and looked past the cottage to the spruce trees and the grey-blue lake. I was feeling peaceful as I stepped inside and found Grandma in the living room sitting at her easel. I stepped up behind her and looked at her painting. It was nearly finished—a forest scene that didn’t look familiar. In the foreground was a turned-over canoe with a black Labrador retriever sitting at attention and looking straight ahead at something we couldn’t see. It looked as though it was guarding the canoe or waiting for its master. You could imagine a lot of stories around the picture.
“Grandma, this is beautiful, but I don’t think I recognize this place or the dog. Whose is it?”
Grandma turned and smiled at me. “There you are, my darling. Why, this is just a nice place I know of. The dog’s name is Blue.” She stood and gave me a hug. She smelled of lily of the valley. “How was the dance?”
“Oh, it was okay. I danced quite a bit. I wore the skirt and top you helped me pick out.”
“I’ll bet. You’re a knockout in that denim skirt. The boys were probably lining up.”
“I thought about selling tickets.”
Grandma laughed. “Your mother had the boys lining up too.”
It was odd to think of Mom being that popular. It was even odder to think of Mom being my age and dating boys. “Was she much of a dancer?”
“My word, yes. She could really cut a rug.”
“What does that mean, cut a rug?”
“An expression that has outlived its time. Your mother was a great dancer. She called last night, by the way.”
“She did? What did she say?”
“She agreed that you should stay with me if that’s what you want. She’s not keen on the idea, but she says she wants you to be happy.” Grandma looked at me over her reading glasses.
I felt relieved but sad. After all, this was what I wanted, wasn’t it? To stay with Grandma Connelly and never have to be around Mom and her new husband? I pictured Mom back in our house in Springhills. She’d be having her second cup of coffee right about now and had probably already started a load of laundry. Mom was as predictable as they come on her days off. In fact, she was usually pretty predictable in how she reacted to me and Leslie in general. For her to give in this easily meant that she was either relieved to have me out of her hair or she had something else up her sleeve. Was my mother using psychology to outthink me? Maybe, she was trying the “give Jennifer what she wants, then she’ll fall back into line” tactic. Lord knows, it had worked before. I had such a wide streak of guilt in my backbone that I always caved when I knew I was giving her trouble.
Grandma said, “Well, you don’t have to make any decisions for a few more weeks. I suppose if you’re going to spend the year here, we’ll have to go into town at the end of the month and sign you up at the school. I don’t imagine the Grade Ten class will be too full to accept one more student.”
Classes with Kerry, Mandy and Leah. A whole year without Ambie and Pete and Leslie. “Okay, Grandma. I’ll think it over,” I said.
“I know you will, dear. I have no doubt you’ll decide what’s best.”
It rained for the rest of the day. Grandma painted while I read Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen’s writing took a little getting used to, but I quickly became engrossed in the story. After an hour or so, we met for tea beside the potbellied stove. The afternoon shadows had lengthened in the room, so we lit the kerosene lanterns to shake off the gloom.
“Jane Austen knew how to poke fun at people who were stuffy class snobs. I think I’d have liked meeting her,” I said.
“Yes, she cut through the nonsense. We could use her to write a book about some of the people in Hawk’s Creek.” Grandma smiled at me and took out her knitting.
“I’m beginning to think there’s a lot of narrow-minded thinkers around these parts.” I pretended to have a cowboy drawl.
“Small communities have a way of forming opinions about people that can be hard to shake. Still, little towns have their good points. You can always count on your neighbours to help you through a bad time. Most of ’em step up when necessary.”
“Grandma, what do you think about Jimmy and Audrey?” I’d decided not to tell Grandma what had gone on between them at the dance, but I still wanted to hear her impression of their relationship.
She shook her head. “Jimmy has been a help, but he doesn’t talk much. I can’t say I know all that much about him or his sister. My hunch is that the family isn’t a happy one. They keep to themselves for the most part.”
“Do you think . . . that is . . . could Jimmy be violent?”
“Oh, goodness, I suppose anyone could be violent, given the right set of circumstances. Jimmy behaved well whenever I saw him.” Her voice sharpened. “Why do you ask, Jennifer?”
“No reason.” I didn’t want to get anybody into trouble, so I changed the subject. “When is your exhibition in Thunder Bay?”
Grandma rubbed her forehead. “I meant to tell you this morning. Where has my head gone? The gallery phoned yesterday, and I’ll be showing next week. I have to go on Sunday to set up and will be home on the Thursday.”
“Are all your paintings finished?”
“Just about. I have this picture to complete, and one other that needs a bit of touching up. I’ll have fifteen to show in all.”
“You’ve worked hard, Grandma. It’ll be a great show.”
“Yes, and I wish you could come too. I think you’d find it extremely dull, though. I also have a day of tests at the hospital. I think it best if you stay here. You could spend the nights with Kerry and her family.”
There was that niggling worry again. “Tests for what, Grandma? Aren’t you feeling well?”
Grandma laughed. “Oh, I’m just fine, dear. It’s only follow-up that my doctor insists I do. Doctors are paid to be worry warts.”
“How will you get to Thunder Bay? Driving all that way by yourself will be tiring.”
“My good friend, Clara Holmwood, came back from England on the weekend. She dropped by yesterday while you were at Kerry’s and said she’d drive me. She has a daughter in Thunder Bay whom she wants to visit. She also has a van that will hold my paintings.”
“Well, that’s good. You know, Grandma, I’m almost fifteen and going into Grade Ten. I can stay a few nights alone here. I’ll be fine.”
“Now, I don’t know about that. Won’t you get lonely all by yourself?”
“Kerry could come here for a couple of days and keep me company. Actually, I like being by myself.”
“You won’t be able to swim alone.”
“No.”
“We’ll have to think about it a little bit more.”
“Okay, Grandma. Just remember, I’ve been looking after me and Leslie for a few years while Mom worked nights. I’m what you call self-sufficient.”
“I can see that, my dear. Well, maybe if Kerry comes to stay and her mom agrees.”
“Besides, nothing exciting ever happens in Hawk’s Creek,” I said.
Famous last words.
Grandma told me that it was one of the wettest Augusts that she could remember. It rained for the next three days, and by the time the sun came out Saturday morning, I was getting cabin fever. I hadn’t forgotten the promise that I’d made to myself to find out what was going on with Audrey, and first chance I got, I went in search of her.
I laced on my running shoes, called goodbye to Grandma and started jogging towards the Musquash house. I had to dodge puddles and be careful not to slip on the muddy roads. A wind pushed against me, making it hard to breathe. Still, it sure felt good to be outside.
Finally, the Musquash property came into view. I slowed my pace, stopped at the end of their driveway, scanning the yard and house. Mr. Musquash had finished the front steps, and the new wood stood out in contrast to the rest of the aging house. His saw was still in the yard covered with a piece of plastic, but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. In fact, the whole house looked deserted and still. I wasn’t going to be put off. I walked determinedly towards the front door and climbed the new steps. The smell of wet fresh-cut cedar filled my nose and I breathed it in deeply. I knocked as loudly as I could and waited. After what felt like a long time, I knocked again. All I heard was the wind whistling through the trees. I jumped off the front steps and circled part way around the back, calling, “Is anybody home? Audrey, where are you?” I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It began like a creeping up the back of my neck and made me shiver, even though the sun was warm on my arms and legs. It was the same feeling I’d had twice before, and I gulped back the fear rising in my throat.
A sudden bang made me jump and spin around towards the shed. Its crooked door swung open, then shut on loose hinges. I clutched where my heart was pounding against my ribs and backed away from the house. My eyes darted from window to window, searching for a sign of life. If someone was inside, they remained hidden from my view. Hadn’t Audrey said her mom never left the house? “Maybe I’ve come at a bad time,” I whispered to myself and turned away from the house, all the while with that feeling of being watched.
Without looking back, I ran with the wind towards the safety of Grandma’s cottage. By the time I started up our driveway, I’d convinced myself that Audrey couldn’t have been home and that I’d find her somewhere else when she wanted to be found.