The children rang the bell but no one answered. They knocked on the door. Still nothing.
“Grandma Belle can’t go out with a broken hip,” said Violet.
Benny peered through the window. “Her wheelchair’s gone! I left it right there in the corner.”
“Maybe she was feeling better,” said Jessie, “and her grandson took her for a walk.”
“Maybe they’re sitting in the yard,” said Henry.
The children ran around back, but the only thing they found in the yard was a group of small birds chirping along the walk.
“Look,” said Benny. The birds were feasting on pieces of popcorn. The children followed the trail along the walk out to the alley to the trash. They quickly opened the trash cans. Two were empty, but a white box stuck out of the third. “Another one!” said Benny.
Henry lifted it out and tore it open. Popcorn spilled out. Inside was a red, white, and blue mask with two horns on the top. The wood was old and cracked, and the feathers sticking out of the top smelled musty.
Violet ran her fingers over the wood. “It’s beautiful. Why would Grandma Belle throw this away?”
“It’s probably Nurse Rumple cleaning out more clutter,” said Jessie. “We have to warn her not to throw anything else away until we find out if these masks are copies or real kachina masks.”
“I’ll keep this mask here and wait here for them to come back,” said Henry. “You go home and call Grandma Belle. Leave a message on her phone asking her to call us.”
After the three children sped away, Henry discovered old gardening tools in the yard and quickly set to work. He was one of those people who couldn’t bear standing around doing nothing. The tools had rusted from being left outside. Still, they were good enough to clear weeds from the flowerbeds, prune overgrown trees, and trim the bushes around the porch. If Grandma Belle would let him, he would plant a wonderful vegetable garden and grow flowers that would bloom all summer long.
“Who’s that?” said Jessie as they neared their house. A strange car sat in their driveway, and a stranger leaned against the hood. With his white beard, round belly, and bright red suspenders he reminded Benny of Santa Claus. Watch ran to the man, carrying a stick in his mouth.
“Good dog,” said the man, taking the stick and patting Watch’s head. Then he threw the stick far down the block. “Fetch!” he called, laughing heartily as Watch ran after it.
“Hello,” said the children.
The man turned and smiled. “Why, I would know you anywhere,” he said. “You look just like Aldens. I’m Officer Tom Morgan. I talked to you on the phone last night about your garage break-in. Sorry to be so late getting to you. Been busy helping some friends set up tepees for next week’s powwow. Let’s have a look at the scene of the crime.”
The children led him back to garage. But when they opened the door, everything was tidy once more. “There you are,” called a cheerful Mrs. McGregor as she came out of the house. “Cleaning up was the least I could do.” She turned to Officer Morgan. “Those children worked so hard on this garage. Then someone came and tore it apart. I felt just awful that I didn’t listen when Watch tried to warn me that a thief was out here.”
Mrs. McGregor was so proud of her work that no one had the heart to tell her the truth. Not only had she cleaned the scene of the crime, she also cleaned away any clues the thief might have left.
Officer Morgan looked around. “Anything missing besides the mask and the can full of money?”
“Not that we know,” said Violet.
Violet took out the internet articles she had printed out. “This looks like the mask they stole. We thought ours was a copy, but now we think it may be a real kachina mask.”
Officer Morgan looked at the pictures very carefully.
“We found another mask today,” said Benny. “It has two horns. Henry has it at Grandma Belle’s.”
“Wait, I’ll show you.” Violet ran into the house and returned with colored pencils and paper. She quickly sketched the horned mask, coloring in the red, white, and blue.
“This is exactly what it looked like?” asked Officer Morgan.
“Yes,” Violet said.
“Exactly!” said Jessie, who held up the drawing, very proud of her artistic sister.
“You know,” said Officer Morgan, “if you keep practicing, you might make an excellent police artist one day,” he said with a wink. “Perhaps I can arrange for you to watch one work,” he offered.
“I would like that,” Violet said.
Watch ran up with a stick in his mouth, staring as Officer Morgan got into his car and drove away. The children stared too. It seemed a little odd that he appeared to be more interested in some old masks than in a can full of stolen money.
“I bet he thinks the masks are real,” said Benny. “What if they are? What if,” he broke into a wide grin, “they are worth a lot of money!”
Henry worked hard cleaning out the flowerbeds. Hidden under the weeds he found petunias and zinnias, marigolds and snapdragons, larkspurs, and many flowers he had never seen before. He felt sure that someone had once loved and tended this garden. He turned the sprinkler on the flowers to give them a good drink, then set to work cutting back the bushes. Two hours later, he sat to rest on the front porch and admired his handiwork. Now that he’d trimmed the bushes, the front porch could be seen from the street. Maybe now the paperboy would be able to throw the newspaper all the way onto the porch.
A cold glass of Violet’s lemonade would sure taste good right now. But Henry had to make do with cold water from the garden hose. As he put the tools back near the garage, he saw the red car parked in the alley. Could the nurse have come home while he was working out in front? Maybe Grandma Belle was home as well.
Henry ran around and rang the bell. Then he knocked. No answer. He wrote a note asking Grandma Belle to please call the Aldens. “We found another mask today outside of your house,” Henry wrote. “Please don’t throw away any more masks until we talk to you.”
As he slipped the note under the front door, he heard a noise inside. “Hello?” he called. “Anyone home?” No answer. He pressed his ear to the door and knocked. Nothing. He waited a long time but didn’t hear anything more. He picked up the box with the two-horned mask and climbed on his bike. Shivers prickled the back of his neck. He whirled around. Did the front curtain move? Was someone there? He watched and waited, but the curtain—if it had indeed moved before—never moved again.
It’s nothing, he thought, nothing at all. Still, as he rode away, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. |