The Journal and the Map
At 11:15 Grandpa and the boys stood in front of Miss Belle’s door again. Max pushed the doorbell. He could hear footsteps coming toward the door, and after a short pause it opened.
“Good morning. I had to look through the peephole first to make sure it was you.”
“That was a good idea, Miss Belle,” said Brandon. “We’re glad you are safe.”
“Oh, that boy wouldn’t hurt me.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “He loves me, he’s simply too lazy and greedy.” She sighed. “I still think his poor start in school set him wrong.”
As she spoke she ushered them into the living room and passed around a plate of little biscuit cookies with the word “Maria” printed on top.
“What do you mean?” asked Max.
“He got such a poor start,” said Miss Belle. She handed each boy a glass of milk and offered Grandpa some coffee. “It’s only instant, but it’s coffee.”
“I’d rather have some milk if it’s not any trouble,” said Grandpa. “I still like milk better than coffee.”
“What do you mean about Dexter and school?” asked Brandon.
Miss Belle shook her head as she poured another glass of milk. “He had trouble learning to read, and then he felt dumb. That’s when he started acting up. I tried to tell his mother she shouldn’t send him to school yet; he was so young for his age.”
“Maybe his snacks hadn’t snacked yet,” said Chad between bites.
“His what?” said Grandpa.
Chad looked at his grandpa. “Aunt Susie told me. Last summer when I was still seven I told Aunt Susie I felt dumb because I couldn’t read too good. She told me it was because my snacks hadn’t snacked.” He took a swallow of milk. “She was right. When I went back to school I learned real fast.”
Grandpa shook his head. “I don’t have the first idea what you are talking about.”
Max laughed until he had to hold his sides. “What she said, Chad, was that your synapses hadn’t synapsed. She was talking about the connections in your brain that make it so you can learn to read. She heard it from some doctor for kids that’s on the radio. He said some kids, especially boys, don’t develop the synapses in their brain until they are seven or eight.”
“Yep,” Chad said. “Dr. Dogson.”
“Dr. Dobson?” asked Grandpa.
“Yep!” Chad said. “So maybe Dexter’s snacks hadn’t snacked yet when he went to school.”
Miss Belle patted Chad’s leg and smiled at him. “I think you are exactly right. He’s been trying to make up for it all of his life, in all the wrong ways.” She shook her head, like she was trying to shake the bad memories away. “You didn’t come here, though, to talk about synapses. You came for this.” She reached onto the table beside her and picked up a little journal.
Max could see her hands were trembling.
“This is my grandmother’s journal. You’ll see her handwriting was tiny and very exact.” She rubbed the leather tenderly. “She didn’t write much each day, only a line or two.”
“Do you really think there is something that will help us?” asked Max. “We haven’t found much to go on.”
“I hope so,” she said. “And there’s something else I thought of after you left.”
“What is it?” Brandon leaned forward in his seat.
“It’s what my grandmother repeated over and over before she died. She was so weak and her voice quite soft . . .” Miss Belle stopped and took a deep breath. She placed her hand over her heart. “I still miss her today and it’s been sixty years. Right before she died, she grabbed my hand and pulled me close. I leaned down so I could hear, and she said, ‘The clock—keep the clock. It holds the secret. And remember, Old Sam is dead . . . Old Sam is dead.’”
“Who’s Sam?” asked Chad.
Miss Belle shook her head. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. We didn’t know anyone named Sam. I asked her what she meant and she just kept repeating it, ‘Old Sam is dead.’”
Max felt his frustration building. “I don’t know what that means.”
“I know,” Miss Belle said. “I don’t know either. That’s a mystery all by itself, but you never know when some little fact will help.”
Twenty minutes later Grandpa and the boys were in the van driving back out of town. “Thanks for the milkshake, Grandpa,” Chad said. He sipped his drink. “I wasn’t too hungry after the cookies and milk but I needed a little bit.”
“Me too!” said Max from the front seat. He could feel the tension starting to drain away.
Grandpa’s phone rang.
“Answer that, Max.” said Grandpa. “I don’t want to talk and drive; it’s not safe.”
“Sure!” Max picked up the phone from the console between his seat and Grandpa and answered. “Hello, this is Max.” His voice was deep and businesslike.
Chad slurped on his almost empty shake until Max waved his arm at him.
“Shh,” whispered Brandon. “He won’t be able to hear.”
“Oh, hello!” Max’s voice changed back to normal. “You do?” His voice shot up another step. “That’s awesome.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered, “It’s the man from the antique store, Howard. He has the map ready.”
“Why don’t you put him on speaker phone, Max?” said Brandon. “Then we can all hear.”
Grandpa nodded at Max. “Just a minute, Mr. Howard,” said Max. “I’m putting you on speaker phone. Grandpa and us boys are in the van.” He listened a moment and then pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the keyboard to the phone.
“It’s the bottom button on the left side of the phone,” said Grandpa. “Press down until you hear it beep.”
“Can you hear me now?” asked Max after he heard the beep.
“Yes, I can!” said Howard. “Hi, everyone. Where are you going?”
“We’ve been to see Miss Belle again,” said Max. “She had a diary for us to look at. Now we are headed back to Creede.”
“How is the little lady?” asked Howard. “Stubborn as ever?”
Brandon laughed and leaned forward from the back seat. “Yes, sir! She’s what my dad calls a pistol.”
Howard laughed. “Well, like I told Max, my friend got the map back to me and I think it’s a great improvement. He was able to pull some of the letters out so they can be seen.”
“Yippee!” Chad said.
Howard laughed. “Yippee, indeed! Now we just have to figure out how to get it over to you. I can fax it if you get me a number.”
Max looked at Grandpa and then turned to look at Brandon. “We’ll have to find a fax machine in Creede,” Max said.
“That might be hard on the weekend,” Howard said.
“Can we call the girls and have them look?” asked Brandon.
Grandpa shook his head. “They don’t have a phone.”
“Maybe we could try the campground,” said Max. “They might be there for lunch.”
“Good idea,” said Grandpa. “Howard, we’ll get back to you as soon as we have a number. Thanks so much for your help.”
“It’s been my pleasure, yes indeed. I haven’t been this excited about anything in a long time. Have you made any progress?”
Max groaned. “Not much. We hope to find something in this diary and now if we can get the map. . . .”
“Okay. Let me know,” Howard said. “I’ll be at this number for a few more hours.”
“We’ll call you back soon, I hope,” said Max. “Bye.”
“Goodbye.”
“Do we have the campground phone number?” Max closed the phone.
“Look in the glove compartment,” said Grandpa. “I think I put the receipt there from when we signed in. Maybe the number is on it.”
Max opened the glove compartment. He pulled out the top sheet and scanned it. “Yes. Here’s a number.”
“When you dial, put it on speaker phone again,” said Grandpa. “They might need to speak to an adult.”
Max dialed the number. When the manager answered, Max asked politely if he could get a message to the people in spot 37.
“We sure can,” she said. “In fact I saw them pull in a few minutes ago.”
Brandon leaned over the seat. “Ask her if she has a fax machine.”
Max looked startled and then gave Brandon a thumbs-up. “Ma’am, you are on speaker phone, and my cousin just reminded me of something. Do you have a fax machine there?”
“Yes, we do,” she answered. “But right now it’s not working. I’m sorry.”
“Do you know if there is another one in town?” Max clutched the phone more tightly.
“The hotel has one,” she said. “The Creede Town Hotel,” she repeated.
“That’s great.” Max relaxed his grip on the phone. “Could you go to our spot and have someone find out the number and call us back? We need to receive a fax today.”
“I’ve got the fax number right here,” said the lady. “I can give it to you now, then I can walk this phone over to your spot so you can talk to your family.”
“Oh, that’s awesome,” Max said.
Grandpa reached into his shirt pocket and handed Max his pen. “Just see that I get it back,” he said.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Max said. He bent his head over the receipt and wrote as the lady read off the phone number.
“I wish we had a phone.” Molly stood in the doorway of the trailer and watched for Grandpa and the boys.
“I know,” said Carly. “I wish we knew what they found out. I hope Miss Belle is okay, and I hope Dexter didn’t hurt her. And how can we tell them about the robbery?” She plopped down on the couch and turned her back to the room.
“If something were wrong, Grandpa would find a way to let us know,” said Dorie.
“That’s right,” agreed Grandma. “No news is good news.” She sat at the little table and spread mayonnaise on bread for lunchmeat and cheese sandwiches.
“Uh-oh,” said Molly.
“What’s wrong, honey?” asked Grandma. She put down her knife and pushed her hair back away from her face.
“Here comes the lady from the office, and she has a phone in her hand.”
Carly shrieked. “I knew it! Something horrible has happened.”