Nothing Ventured Nothing Gained Page 7

  “All right, let’s go. And remember, no lights, especially when it gets dark, except for a flashlight in the back of the house, and keep Champ quiet. All we need is him to start barking. No TV, no radio, nothing. No noise.”

  “Why can’t we watch TV?”

  “I told you, they’re watching the house. We don’t want to alert them.”

  “How do you know they’re watching this house?”

  “Didn’t you see the sheriff’s car there a couple times? They’re watching this house for sure.” Stanley took the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. Good thing the door was in the back of the house. Couldn’t be seen from the street like the side and front doors. Lucky, they found a key hanging in the shed. At first the door was unlocked, too bad Mark got greedy and stole that whole pie and gallon of milk. Dumb kid didn’t know better. Taking enough food for a meal was one thing, but a whole jar of peanut butter and loaf of bread was a bit much. They’d have to be more careful. Hopefully, the blanket wouldn’t miss. Was gonna be nice in a warm house tonight. A shower would be great, too, and clean clothes. They had a lot of laundry to do. Thank goodness, they didn’t have to go to the laundromat.

  Mark headed straight for the refrigerator. “Look, lunchmeat. Where’s the bread?”

  Stanley shook his head and slipped off his shoes. “Look for it. I’m not your servant. And take off your shoes.” He plopped down on the sofa. Boy it felt good to sit on a soft seat. He’d almost forgotten what a real home felt like. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe they should go back to Uncle Otto’s. Nah, they’d only be in the way.

  ***

  “I’ve been thinking about having the family over for dinner. Callie’s right, it’s too much for Mama.” Bea set a bag of groceries on the table. Ever since Callie mentioned it, Bea couldn’t get it out of her mind. Mama wasn’t a spring chicken, especially after that bout in the hospital. Still, once she started watching her diet, she seemed good as new.

  “That’s a good idea. When do you want to do it?”

  “I was thinking Sunday. And I know Thanksgiving’s six weeks away, but I was thinking of having dinner at our house, too.”

  Ed set some wood in the fireplace and lit it. “How do you think Jess’ll feel about that? You know she loves to cook.”

  “Well then she can come to our house and cook. It’s too much for her. It’s time for us to take over.”

  “Fine by me. Just hope it’s okay with her.”

  Bea put the groceries away. “Why did Callie want us to come up here?”

  “What makes you think Callie wanted us to come up here?”

  “Seriously, Ed. How dumb do you think I am? You go off in the living room with her and after she leaves you suddenly come up with the idea to visit the cabin?” Bea loved to watch him squirm.

  He ran his fingers around the collar of his shirt, hemmed and hawed, finally looked at her and said, “Okay, she’s hoping whoever’s breaking in will show himself with us not home.”

  “She thinks it’s Butch, doesn’t she?”

  “Now, Bea, don’t be jumping to conclusions. She didn’t say and I didn’t ask.” Ed sat down and patted the couch next to him. “Let’s just enjoy our time here.”

  Bea picked up Bixby and sat next to Ed. “Sure is peaceful here, isn’t it?” She leaned back and closed her eyes. Quiet and peaceful. Easy to block out the world. At least it would be if she wasn’t so worried about the break ins. If it was Butch, wouldn’t he have acted by now? What was he planning? More importantly, where was he hiding? Maybe in the empty house next door. She’d be glad when their new neighbors moved in. She hated that empty house. Something downright scary about it. Try as she might, she just couldn’t rid herself of worry. Better she’d have stayed home and let Ed come up here alone. One night was enough. Tomorrow, she’d insist they go home.

  ***

  Stanley stood in the shower and relished the hot water fall over his body. Boy, it felt good. Was there anything better than a hot shower? Not at this moment there wasn’t, and he wasn’t about to hurry. Not like at Uncle Otto’s. No one to yell at him here. Whoever heard of timing a shower? Three minutes. More than that Uncle Otto started yelling. Wasting water, running up the bill. How much did water cost anyway? Seemed like longer than a week since he’d taken one. Sponge baths on the run couldn’t compare, especially sponge baths with bottled water. Cold water at that.

  “What are we having for dinner?” Mark yelled through the door.

  Darn kid couldn’t even let him take a shower in peace. “I don’t know. Wait until I get out. And don’t touch anything out there.” Wouldn’t surprise him to find Mark nosing around. For a twelve-year old, that kid was nosier than the old busy body who lived next door to his grandmother. Stanley chuckled, remembering how his mother referred to her as ‘Nosy Nellie’.

  Stanley soaped up, rinsed off, and got out of the shower. He’d left Mark to his own devices long enough. Kid got bored too easily, and there wasn’t anything to keep him occupied. It’d be just like him to turn on the TV. He wrapped the towel around him and went in search of his brother.

  Why didn’t it surprise him to find Mark in the kitchen, going through the cupboards? “What are you looking for?”

  “A snack. I’m hungry. Ah, cookies!”

  “You’re a bottomless pit. You just ate.”

  Mark stuffed a cookie in his mouth.

  “And don’t make a mess.” Like that wasn’t going to happen. His brother didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘neat.’

  “I’m not, gees, you’re worse than Uncle Otto.”

  After Stanley dressed, he wiped down the shower, gathered up the towels and dirty clothes. Time to do the laundry.

  “Do I have all your dirty clothes?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re sure? If you run out of clean clothes, it won’t be my fault.” Wouldn’t be the first-time Mark didn’t throw all his dirty clothes in the laundry. Uncle Otto was a stickler for doing laundry once a week. Sometimes Mark didn’t throw his dirty clothes in the hamper. Uncle Otto had a fit, and Mark had to wear dirty clothes until next laundry day. Neither of them had many clothes. They’d outgrown most of them. and Uncle Otto didn’t have the time or money to replace them. At least that’s what he said. A crashing sound came from the kitchen.

  “What the heck?”

  Mark sat on the floor, surrounded by broken glass, remnants of what looked like a cake dish, the pedestal still intact.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “What’d you do? I told you not to touch anything.

  “I didn’t. It fell off the table.”

  “Right, it jumped off by itself.”

  “I swear I didn’t do nothing. I walked past and must have bumped it with my elbow.”

  Stanley brought the wastebasket out from under the sink and looked around for the broom and dustpan. “Here, pick up the big pieces and be careful you don’t cut yourself.” Darn kid. Always getting into trouble. Couldn’t leave him alone for a minute. It wasn’t like he didn’t have enough to do with the laundry and making dinner. Now he had to figure out what to do with the broken glass.

  He finished cleaning up the glass, sweeping extra careful under the table and as far under the stove and refrigerator as he could. He tied up the bag. Better throw it in the woods far away. The less signs someone was there the better. Missing food was bad enough. Food! Now he had to figure out what to make for dinner.

  He opened the freezer. Hotdogs. Perfect. Quick, easy, and warm. First a hot shower, now a warm meal. Boy, he missed being home. Missed the home-cooked meals, coming home from school to a warm snack in the winter, cool snacks in the spring and summer. Missed his family.

  Not the time for reminiscing. Shrugging off his thoughts, he put the hotdogs in a pan, looked in the cupboard for beans. He grabbed a can of corn. It would have to do. Not a great meal, but better than they’ve had. Except for that roast beef. Boy, was that good. Would have been better hot, but roast beef
sandwiches sure beat peanut butter. Didn’t last long, though. Nothing did with his brother’s appetite. He swore that kid had a tape worm or something.

  After dinner, Stanley folded the clothes, packed up their knapsacks, and put the towels back on the shelves. “Hey, Mark, come here.”

  “What?”

  “I was thinking, since this bedroom is at the back of the house, you can watch TV for a while. Just keep the sound turned down.” Stanley handed Mark the remote. That should keep the kid busy for a while and no one would be the wiser.

  “Cool.” Mark grabbed the remote, jumped on the bed, and turned on the TV, pushing buttons to find channels.

  “Hey, go easy with that. You don’t wanna break it.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Mark leaned against the wall. “Hey, look at that.”

  Stanley turned around in time to see the radar on the weather channel. A storm warning scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

  “Wow, up to ten inches of snow tomorrow. Good thing we’re in a nice warm house.” Mark changed the channel.

  “Wait, turn it back on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.” Stanley grabbed the remote and switched back to the weather channel. Looked like the snow was going to start tomorrow morning and last through the afternoon. Temperatures were dipping down to the twenties. Hope this didn’t mean they were in for a cold, snowy winter. Temperatures in Octobers were usually mild. He tossed the remote back to Mark.

  ***

  Coffee! Bea got up and grabbed her robe. The rich delicious aroma drew her to the kitchen.

  Ed kissed her cheek and handed her a cup. “Morning honey pot.”

  “Hmm, nothing better than you and a good cup of coffee in the morning.” Bea took a sip and let the smooth taste of the rich liquid roll in her mouth. “Delicious as usual.”

  “Sleep well?”

  “Very. Nothing like the quiet peacefulness of nature. I almost hate to go home.” Bea sat on the stool next to the counter.

  “There’s no hurry, you know. We don’t have to leave tomorrow, we can stay as long as we want.”

  “About that, Ed. I think we should leave today.”

  “Today? Why? I thought you said we’d stay the weekend.”

  “I don’t know.” Bea shrugged. “Just something in my bones tells me we should go home today.”

  “Well then, I guess we ought to listen to your bones. When do you want to leave?”

  “I thought we’d stop for lunch on the way home.”

  “That soon?”

  “You know me, Ed. If we’re leaving, why wait around?” Seemed silly to dawdle when you had to leave eventually. She never was one to waste time. Besides, something told her to hurry.

  “Do you want breakfast?”

  “Just a bowl of cereal. I’m going to pack up. You take care what you need to do before we leave. I’m hoping to be on the road in an hour or so.”

  Half way home the snow started. Flurries at first, but didn’t take long to turn into a blizzard.

  It swirled across the road. The wipers struggled to keep the heavy wet stuff off the windshield. If there was anyone in front of them, Bea couldn’t see them. The car swerved, and she gripped the seat. Not that it would help if they ran off the road, but just for something to hold onto. Nothing worse than driving in bad weather, and this had to be the worst. Wind whipped a blanket of snow at them, blocking all vision.

  “Darn car’s all over the place. I’m having trouble keeping it on the road.” Ed held the steering wheel with both hands and turned it hard.

  “Just take it slow.”

  “If I slow down any more, we’ll be stopped. Damn car’s not handling well at all, and the road’s slippery as hell.” Again, he swerved, causing Bea to hit her head on the window.

  She bit her tongue. Better to not say anything. He didn’t have to remind her how bad it was, she could see for herself, she wasn’t stupid. Traffic crawled. Occasionally she caught sight of a snowplow up ahead, clearing the road and dropping salt, but as quick as they removed the snow, wind blew it right back on the highway. Why they bothered with salt was beyond her.

  “I can’t believe how hard it is to control the car. This wind is fierce.” The car slid toward the edge of the road. Somehow Ed straightened it out.

  Bea wanted to scream, but clenched her teeth instead. All she wanted was to get home safe. A forty-five-minute drive turned into hours. Three hours later, they turned into their drive. Longest three hours she’d ever spent. She sighed and opened the door. “Just leave everything in the car. We’ll get it tomorrow.” Her voice came out in little more than a squeaky whisper. What the heck? Laryngitis? Seriously?

  “What happened to your voice?” Ed grabbed the shovel and cleared a path for her. “I hope you’re not getting sick.”

  “Must have been all that silent screaming. I’ve never experienced driving in weather like that.”

  “It was pretty bad. I was scared myself. If I’d have known we’d run into a blizzard, we’d have stayed at the cabin.”

  Chapter 8

  “Mark, quick, grab your knapsack. Let’s go.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s here, go quick. Take this. I’m gonna have one last look around. Take Champ and go. Don’t let anyone see you.”

  Mark grabbed their knapsacks and Champ’s leash and ran out the door. Snow already piled up and came down so hard, he couldn’t see where he was going. Straight. He had to stay straight. The shed was just ahead. There! He could see it now. Once inside he threw the knapsacks down and fell to the floor out of breath. Where was Stanley? He should have been right behind him. He peeked out the window. Not that he could see anything. Just wild, blowing snow. The weatherman didn’t say they were supposed to get a blizzard. Champ sat next to him, whimpering.

  “It’s okay, boy. He’ll be here soon.” At least Mark hoped he would. Boy, it was cold. Too bad they came back already. It was so warm in the house. They were gonna freeze to death out here. He looked for the blanket and curled up in it. His stomach growled. Great, they didn’t have nothing to eat either. There wasn’t time to grab anything. Tears filled his eyes and slid down his cheeks. He wanted to go home. Wanted his mother, his dad, Gram. Why did this have to happen to them? Right now, even Uncle Otto would be welcome. Just to be in a warm house with food.

  It wasn’t fair. They had to go back. Uncle Otto was mean, but he was better than this. He shouldn’t have listened to Stanley. What’d he know, anyway? Dumb, that’s what he was. Better off, yeah, right. Nothing about this was better off.

  He slid down, rested his head on the knapsack, pulled the blanket around him, and closed his eyes. If only this was a bad dream and he’d wake up. Wake up to his mom and dad. To the way life used to be.

  One last look around and Stanley pulled the door closed behind him just in time. Voices came from the garage. What were they doing home already? He jumped off the step and took off toward the shed. Not that he could see it. Already the snow covered Mark’s footprints, which was a good thing. Hopefully his would be covered just as quick. Otherwise, it’d lead right to them. Not that anyone would be fool enough to come out in this.

  At least he didn’t think they would. Phew, finally the shed. He pulled the door open and Champ ran out. “Champ, come back!” He whistled. Nothing, no sign of the dog. Great. Just what he needed. Crazy dog. He’d never been out of the shed without them before. Would he find his way back?

  “Darn, it’s cold out there.” He stamped his feet to get some of the snow off his shoes. Usually he took them off when he came inside, but not today. Much too cold. Besides the floor was wet with snow from Mark and the dog. “You okay, Mark?”

  “I wanna go home.”

  Crap, he hated when Mark got all weepy, worse than a girl. Still, he felt sorry for him. Poor kid had been through a lot this past year. It wasn’t his fault. Heck, right now he’d give anything to be home himself. Not that he could do anything about it. The wind howl
ed, the shed shook, and the door blew open.

  “Mark, help me with this, quick.” Stanley pulled the door closed. “I’ll hold it, find something to tie it.” He looked around for rope, wire, anything that would hold the door closed from inside. “There, on the shelf, is that wire?”

  Mark brought him a bungee cord. “How about this?”

  “That should work if I can find something to hook it to. He looped one end on the small hook on the door and looked for something close by to latch it to. “Can you hold this closed while I try to ease it onto that nail?”

  Mark held the door while he pulled on the cord. Almost there. Bam, the nail let loose and the cord snapped back at Stanley, the hook just missing his head. The door flew open, wind whipped cold and snow inside. He fought to close the door.

  “We’re gonna die.” Mark huddled on the floor under the blanket. “It’s cold, we don’t have no food, and we’re gonna die.”

  “Shit!” He didn’t have time for this. Snow swirled inside and already piled up on the floor. “Mark, come on, help me with this.” He pulled the door closed. “Can you hold it? I’m gonna try something.”

  Mark wiped his tears and grabbed the door. Stanley found a hammer and pounded the nail in farther, then bent it so he could hook one end of the bungee cord to it. He found another nail and pounded it into the door and hooked the other end of the bungee cord to it. “Okay, let go, let’s see if it holds.”

  Mark backed away and crawled back under the blanket.

  “Phew, it worked.” Stanley reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a candy bar. “Here, it’s the best I can do right now. When this storm ends, we’ll go to the store, okay?”

  Mark grabbed the candy and nodded.

  Chapter 9

  Bea unlocked the door. “I would have preferred you’d have kept the information about the car to yourself. It was bad enough I could see what was happening. I didn’t need a blow by blow report from you.” She kicked off her shoes and plopped into the nearest chair. “It wasn’t very reassuring.”