Читать книгу Holly Jean and the Box in Granny's Attic - Bonnie Compton Hanson - Страница 5

Holly Jean could hardly believe her eyes.

Daisy Dunn had just tripped on a rock. And now she was flying through the air—long white gown, long blonde hair and all—just as Mr. Curtiss’ station wagon came round the bend, bringing her long-lost husband home! The dirt road was full of rough stones. Daisy could be badly hurt—even break her leg. Or worse, be hit by the car!

But just then one of Max Morgan’s dogs hurled after her, knocking her sideways. A second later she landed right in the middle of a huge patch of gloriously white Queen Anne’s lace—Daisy’s favorite flower!

The bulky, wood-sided station wagon screeched to a halt. Mr. Curtiss jumped out with Linda Wilson fast after him. “Miss Daisy!” he called. “Are you all right?”

She shook herself off and slowly sat up. “Reckon so. Especially if that’s really my Ben you got there!”

“Daisy!” cried a voice from the back seat. “That sounds like my sweet Daisy! Oh, and I smell Queen Anne’s lace, her own special flower!”

By that time the whole crowd had rushed to the car to help Mrs. Dunn up and to greet her long-lost husband.

Moon cried, “Ma, you okay? And Pa, is that really you?”

Indeed it was. And, seated in back with Mr. Dunn, was indeed none other than Holly Jean’s piano-playing friend, Tad Wilson. Yea, Tad! Let’s go eat!

“Hey, Jeannie!” he called, using her nickname. “Look who we got with us. And, say, I like that yellow dress on you!”

But, wait a minute. There was someone else in the back seat, as well—a girl about Holly Jean’s age, with shiny dark brown hair just like Tad’s. Was that his girlfriend?

“Jeannie! Tootsie!” Miss Wilson called. “I’d like you to meet mine and Tad’s little sister, Tamela. Everyone calls her ‘Tammy.’ She’s just your age, and I told her you’d make her feel right at home here today.”

Miss Linda and Tad had a sister? Wow! There were lots of things Holly Jean didn’t know, it seems! Well, it was a shame to have to share this new friend with Tootsie Anderson, but today was too great a day to think about that. Moon Dunn’s father was finally home. Blind, yes; having to use a cane, yes; but home!

Soon everyone gathered around the piled-high tables. Pastor Jake blessed the food, then they all “set to.” As they ate, Ben Dunn shyly shared about his adventures while he was gone. Mr. Max, now all dressed up, smiled from ear to ear, and kept saying, “That’s my boy.”

Daisy sat adoringly on one side of him, while his young son cuddled up on the other. Both were so excited, they couldn’t eat a bite. Mr. Curtiss, editor of the local paper, took pictures and wrote notes about everything.

But Tim and Jim could eat. So could Tad, Holly Jean, Tootsie, and Tammy. No sense letting all that corn on the cob, sliced tomatoes, string beans, fried chicken, potato salad, pickled beets, chocolate cake, blackberry cobbler, pumpkin pie—and much, much more—go to waste!

Especially the watermelon! Yum!

As for Max’s collie, Bert—the hero who had saved his mistress—everyone gave him a pat, a hug, and a piece of chicken. Soon he was so stuffed, he rolled over and started snoring right under one of the tables!

Between bites, Tammy told about her school in Willow Bend and her hobbies, playing basketball and crocheting. Tootsie told all about her school in Morgan Mills and her hobbies, listening to Jack Benny and the Hit Parade on the radio and eating Hershey’s bars and cherry pie. Ted told all about Willow Bend High School and the orchestra and band, plus his hobby of trying to learn new musical instruments.

Then Holly Jean tried to tell the others about her big school back in Cincinnati, but it was so different from their own small schools, the other girls just stared at her. Tad liked hearing about the music program at Taft, but after that he lost interest. So instead, she told about some of her own favorite things—such as playing the flute and getting letters from Papa Joe.

All four helped out in the kitchen, washing and drying all those now-empty bowls and pots, and getting them back to their rightful owners. Even Tad put on an apron just for fun. And all the while they talked some more! Tootsie was as sweet as pie for a change. Yes! Finally! Even if she was just being nice to try to impress Tad!

Holly Jean didn’t even mind when she accidently spilled dishwater all over her new dress. The day was so hot, it was soon all dry again.

Then Miss Wilson and Mr. Curtiss brought out a surprise—some of the pottery Ben had learned to make during his time at the school for the blind. The pots were beautiful!

Finally, everyone sat around on the grass and sang hymns and old favorites, like I’ve Been Working on the Railroad and My Old Kentucky Home. The Morgans didn’t have a piano for Tad to play. Instead, Moon accompanied them on his little musical comb.

Holly Jean worried that the grass would aggravate Tad’s asthma, but he seemed to be okay. “Hey, Moon’s good!” Tad decided. “Maybe we can do a duet in church. Or a trio with you, Holly Jean.”

At last the afternoon was over. “Star needs milking, I reckon,” Granny Nanny said. “And tomorrow’s the good Lord’s Day. Hope my Tom gets here soon to take us all back home.”

He did. They all bid farewell to a beaming Max Morgan and his family. “You all come now, y’hear?” Granny said. “We’uns just live down the hill apiece, Mr. Ben. Jest slide on down any time you want.”

“And we’d be right honored to have everyone worshiping with us at church tomorrow,” Pastor Jake added. “Ten o’clock, Sunday school; eleven o’clock, worship.”

“’Bye, Jim and Tim!” Moon called. “Next time you come, I’ll take you swinging on my secret grape vines!”

Mr. Curtiss started up the motor of the old station wagon. “Tad, Tammy, time to go,” he announced.

“That was fun!” Tammy said. “So glad I got to meet you, Holly Jean and Tootsie. I’m coming back to Morgan Mills, girls, and you’ve got to come see me in town too. I want to show you my school. And our church—it’s all brick, and real tall, with a cross on top. Our pastor’s Reverend Winston. And, Holly Jean, he’s got red hair just like yours!”

“Yeah, we had a great time,” her big brother added. “A shame it’s all downhill from here!”

It certainly was—straight down the steep, narrow mountain road, brakes smoking and squealing most of the way for most of the vehicles, including Uncle Tom’s truck. But finally they reached Granny Nanny’s farm, where a wild and happy Bear jumped so high to greet Holly Jean and her grandmother, he nearly knocked them both down!

“Thankee, Tom,” Granny Nanny told her son, giving him a big kiss. Then to his passengers in the back of his truck, “See you all in church tomorrow!”

“Well, now, we might just do that, ma’am,” replied Tim and Jim’s mother. “Say good-bye to Holly Jean, boys.”

Then the truck rattled off on down the hollow toward Morgan Mills.

Holly Jean and Granny Nanny carried their pile of pots and bowls back to the cabin, empty now except for half a watermelon. “Where’s Aunt Kate?” Holly Jean asked.

“Never mind about your great-aunt, child,” her grandmother assured her. “She ’n Pastor Jake got a lot of talkin’ to catch up on, I reckon. She’ll be here soon.”

Yes, Holly Jean was glad for her great-aunt and their pastor to be taking time to be friends again. Just as she herself would get to do with her old friends, Shirley and Roger, this very next weekend! Why, she could hardly wait!

“Granny,” she said, “do you mind if I go up to the attic while it’s still light and start cleaning it up? I want it to be nice for Shirley. I haven’t been up there since Mr. Bob built my new bedroom downstairs, and I’m sure it has a lot of cobwebs and dust by now.”

Her grandmother unlaced her good shoes and soaked her feet in a tub of cool water.

“Ahh! My bunions was about to kill me!” she remarked. Then she added, “Yes, dear, good thinkin’. We still have a few hours of sunlight left, so you can get up there before the hens roost on the ladder. But don’t git yourself overtired, you hear?”

Nodding, Holly Jean changed from her dress-up clothes to everyday ones. Then she grabbed some cleaning supplies and headed for the attic ladder. The supplies were hard to carry up without dropping them, but finally she’d made it up the ladder and through the small attic door opening.

It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust. Yes, here were the big straw mattresses and featherbeds. She pulled off the dust-covered sheets, rolled them up, and tossed them out the open crawl-through door—to the horror of some loud, squawking hens below.

Now she just had to straighten up all the boxes and odds and ends around her and dust them off. But as she moved some old potato sacks to one side, she uncovered a very unusual box. Unlike the dull brown boxes all around it, this one was snow white, with small hearts and flowers hand-drawn all over one side, including a lovely white lily. The box was even tied up with a bright red ribbon!

But what really made Holly Jean’s heart stop was something printed across the top:

“With love to Joe Roberts.”

And it wasn’t in her mother’s handwriting.

Or Granny Nanny’s.

Or Aunt Bea’s.

Who in the world had given that box to Holly Jean’s father?

And why?