Keeper, Page 4

would be staying with us next and was cheered, remembering the electric dishwasher.

  Two buckets of paint sat by the pasture fence. Aunt Velma told me to look in the old barn for paint brushes and start on the fence while she went to San Francisco to buy a dishwasher. The barn was a scary place. I peeked inside just once and decided to stay outside, but now I had to go in to find paint brushes.

  It was so dark in the barn that I had trouble adjusting my eyes from the bright sunlight and stumbled around until I found a shelf with old paint cans, rags and brushes. I picked up a brush then dropped it as I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  My knees turned to jelly. Sure it was the ghost from the beach, I turned my head slowly, like in a nightmare. I saw a man dressed in ragged overalls and a dirty shirt. He waved a butcher knife at me.

  "OK, kid," he growled. "Just give me the rest of that dough. I saw you get it."

  I tried to squirm away, but he held on to my arm. My mouth was so dry, I couldn't speak.

  "Come on, kid." He pinched my arm so hard it hurt. "Let's have it. All of it." He pricked my neck with the tip of the knife.

  My hands were shaking as I reached in my pocket and pulled out six dollar bills. He snatched them.

  "You tell anyone, kid, and you're dead. Meat! Understand? Maybe your pretty girl friend, too. I'll kill both of you." He pricked my neck again. "Get the message, kid? Keep your mouth shut."

  "I won't tell," I promised. "Please don't hurt her."

  He shoved me against the shelf, knocking over the paint cans. He smelled like the old wine my mom had used to make vinegar. Stuffing my money in his shirt, the man shuffled off past the horse stalls at the back of the barn.

  I don't remember how long I stood there, too scared to move until I heard Aunt Velma outside.

  "Stephen? Did you find the brushes?"

  I ran a finger across my throat where blood trickled down then yelled, "I'm coming, Aunt Velma." I grabbed a handful of brushes without looking.

  She stood next to the station wagon buttoning up a red jacket. She pulled a red knit hat over her dark hair that was done in its usual plain knot. She seemed to be tired but not too tired to give me orders.

  "No idle hands today. I expect a good job on the fence and don't forget the animals at three o'clock."

  "Yes, ma'am." I was surprised that my lips were moving at all after my terrible fright.

  The animals came over to the fence and lined up, expecting to be fed when they saw me by the hay rack. The two donkeys draped their shaggy heads over the rail, leaving long gray hairs for me to pull out of the splinters. The three old horses lying down in the middle of the pasture struggled up and walked over to the fence like their hooves hurt. The brown goats poked their heads under the fence slats. One of the goats was limping from a cut on his leg. I had just dipped a brush into the paint can to get started when a pick-up truck pulled up beside me. A man got out carrying a black bag. He smiled and waved to me.

  "I'm Dr. Jim, the veterinarian." He put out his hand. I set the brush down to shake hands. "Miss Velma says she has a lame goat." He went to open the pasture gate then turned to look back at me. "By gum, young man," he said, shaking his head, "you're the spitting image."

  "I'm Stephen Hodges, Dr. Jim. Miss Velma's my aunt. What's a spitting image?" I followed him as he went to examine the goat.

  "Never mind, Stephen," he said, opening his bag to take out bottles and bandages. He tossed a few carrots to the horses as they ambled over to join us. "Miss Velma has a kind heart," he said. "She rescues these old animals and brings them here to her pasture when no one else wants them."

  I found kindness in my aunt hard to believe so I kept quiet, still wondering about "spitting images." I held the goat, avoiding his horns, while Dr. Jim cleaned the cut and taped it. I went back to my painting and was a good stretch down the fence when the red car with Sequoia and her mother stopped in front of the house.

  Sequoia ran over to me. "Stevie, I'm sorry I was mad at you. My mom explained everything."

  Tired of riddles, I put down my brush. "Explained what?"

  She picked up another brush. "I'll tell you later. Now, I'm going to help you so we can go the beach and see my cave." She dipped a brush in the bucket of paint and started in then stopped to look at me. "What happened to your neck?"

  "Just a scratch." I felt a shiver go up my spine. If I told her about the man in the barn he might kill us both "I bumped into a broken bottle while I was looking for the brushes."

  Dr. Jim came over to say goodbye when he had finished checking the other animals in the pasture. He looked at the cut on my neck and insisted on antiseptic and a bandage. It was then that I decided on my career. I wanted to be a veterinarian and spend my life taking care of sick and injured animals, just like Dr. Jim.

  With Sequoia's help, the fence was soon finished. She ran to the car to get her backpack. "I brought lunch." She grinned. "I told my mom we were going to the woods again for a picnic. Well, it wasn't the truth, but I wanted to show you my cave." She waved her hand. "Come on. Miss Velma won't be back 'til late."

  I almost forgot my awful experience in the barn as we went down the path to the beach. We picked up shells and stomped on seaweed, laughing when it squirted us. The tide was out, leaving lots of little pools along the beach. We poked at tiny crabs to watch them run sideways and touched sea anemones with a stick to see them close up into a ball. We avoided stepping on jellyfish. Sequoia said they had a terrible sting.

  The cave at the end of the beach was hidden by a big rock. We crawled under the rock to get inside. She pulled a flashlight and two candles from her pack. Not only beautiful, she was smart. We crawled all of the way into the cave before we heard a dog barking.

  "Hurray! It's Joker," I cheered. "He found us."

  "No. It's Shadow," Sequoia laughed. "He probably followed us."

  "Joker!" I insisted.

  I crawled back out of the cave and whistled. The dog came galloping across the sand and jumped into my arms, almost knocking me down. I guess he was one of those big dogs who thought he was small.

  Back inside the cave, Sequoia showed me a handful of strange-looking coins. "See," she turned over the coins. "These are from real pirates. I took one home to show my dad. He said they were valuable, but I didn't tell him exactly where I found them. I wanted my cave to be a secret."

  "I'd rather have a few dollar bills," I grumbled.

  She lit the candles and stuck them in a pile of rocks. We ate lunch and talked about pirates and sea monsters. We were having such a good time that I almost forgot to look at my watch. Time to feed the animals. I wouldn't dare be late. I stood up. "We'd better get back." My feet were sloshing in water. I grabbed Sequoia's hand. "The tide's coming in. Let's get out of here."

  We splashed toward the entrance to the cave, but the surf flowed in so fast that we had to run back. "Come on." I tried to pull her against the oncoming water but it was already too deep. The water doused the candles; the flame went out. We were in the dark.

  "Stevie!" Sequoia yelled. "There's no other way out. We're going to drown. I never should have lied to my mother."

  The dog brushed past us going toward the end of the cave.

  "Here, maybe he knows a way out." I took the flashlight and pulled Sequoia along as we followed the dog. She was crying. I put my arm around her. "I'll take care of you," I said. "We'll find a way out."

  The flashlight bulb grew fainter. "Oh, Stevie," Sequoia said. "I forgot to put in new batteries. Now what will we do? It's so dark in here." She started to cry again. I knew I had to be in charge and save us.

  "Follow Joker," I ordered. "He must know a way."

  Up ahead of us, we could see a tiny bit of light. As we got closer, there was the dog, waiting for us next to a big hole in the rocky wall. The dog scrambled up and out of the opening. I pushed Sequoia through the hole and climbed out behind her. We sat on the bank above the beach, our arms around each other and the dog. Below us, the surf splashed high above the cave
entrance.

  When we got back to the house, I hid Joker in my room while Sequoia helped me pitch the hay.

  "Your aunt won't be back for a while," my helper said. "I promised to explain something to you. Do you want to see that locked room upstairs? I know where the Nora hangs the key."

  I was tired of secrets and riddles. Maybe she could tell me what was going on at Valley Springs Farm. I knew there was something wrong. I rummaged in the kitchen for scraps to feed the dog, glad that Nora had gone off to visit friends in Mendocino and Sequoia's mother had gone to town to buy material for more curtains. Sequoia and I had promised to stay in the living room and play chess while we were alone. After I fed the dog, Sequoia took me through the kitchen to the pantry and reached for the unnumbered key hanging over the flour bin.

  Key in hand, we went up the three flights of stairs. I wondered what strange mystery I might find upstairs in that locked room. She went to the end of the hall to look out the window, making sure we were alone, then took the key, unlocked the door and pushed it open. I guess I was expecting ghosts or monsters or maybe Egyptian mummies. Something weird. Well, what I saw was so surprising that I stood in the doorway for a moment

  "Hurry up, Stevie. We only have a few minutes before my mom gets back."

  I looked at a room much like the one I left behind at home. Model airplanes suspended from the ceiling with such fine wire that they appeared to be flying. A bookcase held a set of Hardy Boys