Chapter 3
The
ambulance is on
its way," Mom announced as she rushed into the bedroom. When she saw
Grandma Charlotte's gray face her eyes grew teary. "I should have called
for the ambulance as soon as we arrived. Jessica, go out to the porch and wait
for them."
I was glad to get out of
there. I didn't want to be the room if Grandma Charlotte died. With the scrapbook clutched in my
hands, I waited for the paramedics. My fingers traced over the faded dragonfly
that had been embroidered onto the cover. At one time it probably was black,
but now it was sooty gray.
A distant siren wailed. It
grew louder as it got closer and died when the ambulance pulled up in front of
the house with its red lights still flashing. I led the two uniformed men to
Grandma Charlotte's room and then hurried outside.
I waited in one of the three
wooden chairs that stood guard on the porch. With nothing else to do, I figured
I might as well look at Grandma Charlotte's scrapbook. The first page read:
Charlotte
Crane
age
11
1932
The words were written
carefully in black ink on yellowed rough paper. Three faint pencil lines served
as a guide for the letters. At eleven, Grandma Charlotte had neater handwriting
than I do.
"I wonder what Grandma
Charlotte meant by the 'riddle of the Liberty Lady?'" I whispered.
Maybe there wasn't a riddle,
but something Grandma Charlotte made up like hearing people in the house when
Mr. Thomas said no one was there. Of course he could have lied.
My right knee began to
bounce. I had to push it down with my hand to make it to stop. What was taking
the paramedics so long?
I turned to the second page.
This scrapbook wasn't anything like the ones Kelsey and I planned to make. The
pages were heavy off-white paper, kind of like construction paper, but
different. Instead of mostly photos, Grandma Charlotte had filled the pages
with an assortment of stuff.
There were cut-out newspaper
clippings and pictures of animals from magazines, all carefully glued down. She
must have kept every birthday, Easter, get well, and Christmas card.
One page had black hair
taped on it with just one word written, "Mixie's." Gross. Who was Mixie?
The photographs were small
and black-and-white. She had used the same little black corner frames to hold
all of them in place on the pages.
A cute little Scottie dog
appeared in several. Mixie. I flipped back to the page with the hair.
Dog hair. Double gross.
In one picture Grandma
Charlotte was climbing a tree in a dress. Except for the hair-style and the
dress, Grandma Charlotte could have been my twin.
"That's weird," I
said and studied the black-and-white picture. "Grandma Charlotte is so
old, but if she looked like me when she was my age, does that mean I'm going to
look like her, when I'm her age? Scary." I made a face. I want to look
older, but not that much older. "I wonder if she had dark red hair,
too?" I couldn’t tell in the black and white photo.
I shivered even though it
wasn't cold and turned the page.
In the next picture of her
she was dressed as a princess with a tin-foil crown. Below it is said,
"TOOTH FAIRY PRESENTS." I guess she was supposed to be the tooth
fairy. She'd glued three copper pennies, two nickels, four dimes, two quarters,
a fifty cent piece and three silver dollars in a circle.
On the third to the last
page was a letter. It was from my great-great grandfather to Grandma Charlotte.
She had labeled it, Daddy's last letter to me.
June 16, 1932
Eureka, California
Dear Charlotte,
Happy birthday. I hope
the Sutro Baths are enjoyable and a suitable place for you to spend your most
important twelfth birthday. I miss you and your mother. I'm sorry I'm not there
with you. There is a special birthday present waiting for you when you return
next week.
I arrived home from New
York last evening and have secreted away our future. Tell mother all is not
lost. I beat the bank's closing and have a golden surprise hidden away at home.
If something should happen to me, solve the riddle of the Liberty Lady.
I hope to see you soon.
Love,
Daddy
On the second to the last
page was a short newspaper article. The headline read, Pedestrian Killed in
Hit and Run. "Mr. Jonathan A. Weston was tragically run down by a
hit-and-run motorist on the evening of June 20,1932."
Under it was glued a
memorial card from his funeral.
Grandma Charlotte had put
several small pictures of her father on the same page. He had a wide smile under a large
handlebar mustache. This page was not as neat at the others. The writing was
smudged and the page had been spattered with water.
Pasted on the last page of
the scrapbook was a hand written poem. The writing was the same as in the
letter. At the top, the author had drawn a dragon. Each corner had been
decorated with clusters of leaves and flowers.
I read the poem aloud.
"From
the east to the west they traveled.
From the North to the South
I'm told.
Dragon
wings beat the rhythm,
Of
the hidden treasure of gold.
There
came a lone Liberty Lady,
In
her right hand she held a key.
She
rode a magical beast;
The
iron horse of victory.
In
secret silence she came to stay
In
our house hidden safe away,
Not
like the other fallen In depression on that Black Day.
She
covered herself in star flowers,
Dreaming
of fortune for hours;
Hidden
deep beneath the wood
Alone
in her ivory tower.
Dragon
wings beat the rhythm,
Of
the hidden treasure of gold.
Find
the Liberty Lady,
For
her secrets to be told.
Of
all the hidden treasures I own;
The
money, gold, and precious stones,
Not
one of them can compare,
To
the love a-waiting at home."
"That's some
poem."
I jumped.
Mr. Thomas's nephew stood at
the edge of the porch. He had come from the backyard and was carrying two
Cokes.
"It's okay," I
said and then ignored him, hoping he'd go away. He didn't.
I closed the scrapbook and
set it in the empty chair next to me. "It's something my great-grandma
Charlotte had in her scrapbook from when she was a kid."
"Here." He held
out one of the two Cokes. "I'm Josh. Sorry I was a jerk earlier."
"It's okay." I
said and took the Coke. I didn't want it, but I took it anyway. He might have
put poison in it to get even with me. "Thanks." I pretended to take a
sip.
He sat on the porch railing.
He didn't look so bad when he wasn't glaring at me. He still wasn't as cute as
Todd or as tall. I wondered what
Kelsey would think of him.
"I'm Jessica." It
was impossible to be rude when he was trying to be nice, not if we were going
to live in the same house for the next two months." I should have known
the Coke wasn't Gram's or Great-Grandma Charlotte's. They never drink anything
but water, plain ice tea without sugar, or sour lemonade."
He laughed and then said,
"Let's just forget it?"
"Okay."
We drank our cokes in
silence. I stole a glance at Josh and decided he really wasn't so bad. At least
he was someone close to my age. Someone to talk to.
"I was wondering,"
I said. "Why did your uncle want to spend the summer in Eureka? It's foggy
half the time and there's nothing to do here."
"He's a writer, but I
haven't seen him write since we came. He says he's soaking up local color.” He
crumpled his coke can. “Hank isn't my real uncle. I don't even really like him."
"Then why are you with
him?"
"It was him or a foster
home."
"Oh," I said. When
he didn't say more, I felt I'd been a little too nosy and stared at the street
like it was exciting to see a car drive by. A group of older teenage boys came
around the corner. One bounced a basketball, three had skateboards, and one
coasted on a mountain bike. They crossed the street and disappeared around the
corner.
"Hank isn't so
bad," Josh said to end the silence. "He pretty much lets me do what I
want as long as I stay out of his business. The only thing I have to do is be
in my room by ten and stay there."
"You're lucky. My
parents still think I'm too young to be left alone during the day which is why
I'm stuck up here until Gram is out of the hospital and back on her feet."
He finished his soda and belched. I sort of laughed and his
face reddened.
"Is the old lady going
to be okay?" he asked.
"I hope so."
"Is she normal?"
He tapped his head with his finger.
"Yeah. She was okay
when she and Gram came down for Christmas. She's just old, not crazy."
"Well, before you got
here she said all sorts of strange things about lost ladies and prowlers in the
house. She kept pointing to the walls and crying there were too many dragons.
She even said your grandmother's accident wasn't an accident. It was creepy
sitting with her."
The front door opened. A
paramedic guided the front of the narrow gurney. Great-Grandma Charlotte was
strapped down, but her head rocked from side to side.
Her eyes fixed on the
scrapbook in the chair. She cried out in a feeble voice, "Don't let him
get his hands on that. You have find the Liberty Lady first." Then she
closed her eyes and lapsed into unconsciousness.
The legs on the gurney
folded up as the men slid it into the back of the ambulance. One paramedic hopped in beside her and
the other man hustled to the driver's seat. The back doors slammed shut and the
ambulance sped down the street. Its lights were flashing, but they didn't turn
on the siren.
"Jessica, we have to
go," Mom said. "We'll follow them to the hospital."
I handed Josh my half-full
soda and scrambled into the car taking the scrapbook along.
Would the ambulance get to
the hospital in time? Even though I'd rather be back home with my friends, I
didn't want Grandma Charlotte to die.
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