Keeper, Page 3

dog sniffed at the bag of food as I put it down. I told him to stay put and keep quiet while I went back up to the kitchen for further orders. Nora was putting together a lunch for Sequoia and me. ”Miss Velma will be gone most of the day.” She said, “You kids go and have a picnic.”

  We ran out to the porch to make sure Aunt Velma had gone. I let the dog out and met Sequoia in front of the house. She had the picnic bag in one hand and beckoned with the other. “Come on, Stephen. Let’s go. I know a special place for a picnic.”

  We started down the path to the woods with the dog trotting behind us.

  “Let’s name him 'Shadow,'” Sequoia suggested.

  “No,” I told her. “I named him 'Joker' because he wanted to play tricks last night on the beach."

  “You were on the beach last night?” Eyes wide, she stopped to look at me.” You must never go down there at night, especially when there’s a full moon. A ghost walks on the cliffs. People have seen it.”

  “I know." I shivered, remembering. “I saw it.”

  “Wow!” She turned to walk down the path. “Some folks say its the ghost of a fisherman lost at sea, and others think it is the ghost of Sir Francis Drake who was here four hundred years ago.”

  “A four hundred year old ghost?" I followed her over a fallen log across a stream. “Who was this Francis guy? Why would he be on the beach?”

  Sequoia looked surprised. “Stephen! Looks like you don’t know anything about California history. If you’re going to live here, you should learn all about him.”

  “I know one thing. I’d rather be called 'Stevie,' and you can be my teacher for a little while then I’ll teach you something.”

  “What could you teach me, Stevie?” She stopped at a grassy spot under a pine tree. “I know a lot of things. My dad teaches history at our school in Mendocino. I’ve learned a lot from him.”

  We sat on dry pine needles and opened the lunch bag. “OK.” I said. "Who was or is this old ghost?”

  She unwrapped sandwiches while I popped the lids on cans of root beer.

  She smiled. “Now listen to this, Stevie. Sir Francis Drake was a famous ship's captain. He was an English pirate called a privateer. He sailed one of those big wooden ships, and he took lots of gold from Spanish ships. Of course the Spaniards deserved it because they took the gold away from the Indians. My dad thinks Sir Francis Drake landed his ship right here on the Mendocino Coast. How about that? We may be sitting on history right now."

  “Well,” I asked, “Why was he called 'Sir'?”

  She took a bite from her sandwich then a sip of root beer. ”There was a queen named Elizabeth. She was real happy that Francis took treasure from the Spanish, so she made him a knight and everyone called him 'Sir.'"

  I scratched my head. “Well, I remember about King Arthur, so there, and he had a lot of knights who sat around a round table. They were called 'Sir,' too.”

  “That’s true, and I learned about King Arthur, too, but I’m sure that Sir Francis Drake landed here because I found some old coins in a cave down at the end of the beach.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. “Hey, Sequoia, how come you were allowed to go down to the beach alone?”

  She pulled slices of chocolate cake from the bag. “Well, not really. When my mom comes here to sew curtains for Miss Velma, I get to explore. I'll show you the cave if you promise to not tell anyone."

  The dog had been down to the creek to drink. Now, he had mud on his grayish fur and wet whiskers that tickled when he licked my face. Feeling full and sleepy, I stretched out on the warm grass. Butterflies made lazy flights above me. A green and yellow spider was busy spinning a web across a nearby bush. I watched the spider try again and again until he was able to attach his silken threads to the twigs. Patience, I thought. Perseverance and patience. I could learn from the spider.

  I petted the dog, wishing with all my heart that I could keep him. Sequoia sat under the tree making daisy chains from the white flowers around us. She held out a daisy, chanting, "He loves me, he loves me not."

  I fell asleep before she reached the last petal. When I opened my eyes, she was shaking me.

  "Stevie." She yanked at my arm. "Get up. It's late. You have to feed the animals."

  I looked at my watch. Yikes. After three o'clock. Heart in my mouth, I ran back down the path, hoping Aunt Velma was still shopping, but there she was by the fence, pitching hay.

  "I can't tolerate tardiness." She grabbed an armful of hay and tossed it over to the waiting animals. "I hope this won't happen again." Then she saw the dog and picked up a stick.

  "Please don't hurt him," I begged.

  "Then get rid of him. I told you! I didn't want a dog here."

  "Go away," I yelled at the dog. "Get lost. Beat it."

  He stood on the road looking at me with trusting eyes. When I picked up a few small rocks to throw, he tucked his tail between his legs and ran up the road, stopping every few second to look back. I threw another rock.

  "Stevie! Don't!" Sequoia stood on the porch. "I hate you," she yelled. She took the flower chain from her neck and stamped on it. "You're mean."

  Tears stung my eyes as I watched the dog go up the road. Sequoia and her mother got in their car and drove away. I had lost both a dog and a new friend. Aunt Velma left me to finish feeding the animals, reminding me to set the table for the guests' dinner.

  Nora stood in the kitchen doorway with a dish towel in her hand. I finished pitching the hay and walked over to the house.

  "Poor animal," Nora sympathized. "It was wrong of Miss Velma to make you do that." She sighed. "I try to understand her. I guess she has her reasons."

  "I have reasons, too, Nora," I argued. "I'm leaving. I'm going to run away from this place. I'll take the dog and disappear." I reached in my pocket. "See. I have five dollars here in tips and a ten dollar bill my sister gave me. We'll get by."

  "Don't be too hasty, Stevie." Nora stacked knives and forks on the kitchen table. "Miss Velma's never been the same since it happened." She shook her head, then smiled at me. "Anyway, I couldn't get along without you."

  I washed my hands at the kitchen sink and picked up some spoons. "What happened?"

  Nora ignored my question as she put the big frying pan on the stove. "Special dinner tonight for the German guests. Dumplings and peach pie. Miss Velma always serves the good wine the special dinners. Of course, she charges extra for it. You'll find the wine glasses in the pantry."

  I grabbed a handful of knives and forks to set the tables. "But what happened, Nora?"

  She shrugged. "Nothing. We don't talk about it."

  Deciding to mind my own business, I set the tables, put out the wine glasses, and looked forward to more tips after delivering ice buckets. After dinner was served, I sat at the kitchen table with Nora and ate a big plateful of the delicious German food. "More dishes for the morning, Nora?"

  "Yes, I'm afraid so, Stevie, and a sink full of glasses, too, but things are going to get better."

  "Better? How could anything get better around here?"

  "A man from the health department in Mendocino came here yesterday to make sure our guest house had a clean kitchen and said it was the law that Miss Velma have an electric dishwasher. 'More sanitary,' he said. 'Very expensive,' Miss Velma said. No wonder she seemed depressed today."

  Well, I knew I wasn't depressed. An electric dishwasher sounded great.

  After delivering ice and collecting more tips, I went down to my basement room, turned on the lamp and spread my fortune on top of the bureau. I fanned the bills out in a design, setting dimes and quarters in the middle. What a work of art! Enough money to buy dog biscuits.

  A noise in the bushes outside my window startled me. I had the scary feeling that someone was watching me. When I looked out, I didn't see anything but heard crunching sounds like footsteps on dry leaves. It was so quiet, I figured everybody had all gone to bed.

  I heard another noise and saw a family of raccoons tip over the garbage can. I la
ughed at them, relieved to find out what caused the noises I heard.

  Slipping on my old shoes, I turned off the lamp and went to the basement door knowing I had to go the beach to see if the dog was there. Would he forgive me?

  Leaving a stick in the doorway, I ran down the road, slid through the bushes to the sand below and sat down to take off my shoes. Big waves, crested with foam, swept in across the beach, roaring toward the cliff. The tide was coming in fast. The dog wasn't there. I scrambled up the cliff just ahead of a huge breaker that sprayed me with salt water. Walking up the deserted highway, I whistled and called the dog. No luck. I ran back to the house, fastened the lock on the basement door once I was safely in and turned on the lamp I my room.

  I gasped, feeling sick, like all of the air had been knocked out of me! The money was gone! Not a dime was left.

  I knew I couldn't tell Aunt Velma what had happened. How could I explain my trip to the beach against her orders? With a heavy heart, I crawled into my bed and tried to go to sleep, sure that the next day would be filled with chores. Painting the fence would be my first job and then, what? I finally closed my eyes and slept.

  I helped Nora serve breakfast the next morning, after we cleaned the kitchen. I wanted to tell her about my money but was afraid Aunt Velma might find out. After breakfast, I carried luggage to the van as the German tourists got ready to leave. I gratefully accepted more tips. Aunt Velma followed the van down the road as it left and returned with the NO VACANCY sign. I wondered who