Chapter Thirty-Three Mini
THIRTY-THREE MINI
Her mother closed the curtains in the living room and forbade her to look through them.
“We’re not to go out. Not to be seen. We’ve been shunned, Mini, so like it or not, this is the way we live until he comes for us.”
The way her mother said it made Mini wonder if maybe Mama knew she’d snuck out twice yesterday: to the Holland pasture, and then later to the cemetery. But there was no way she’d know. Still, Mama had a suspicious look in her eye, like she no longer trusted Mini. And why should she?
“Yes, Mama,” she said, head bowed.
Mini went up to her room, pulled back the curtain, and peeked out. She looked for the cardinal she’d seen yesterday, wondering if he might have something else to show her, but he wasn’t there.
She thought and thought about the white horse, Stella.
She thought about the watch in her pocket.
She looked at the window, squinting her eyes, remembering the figure she’d seen behind her yesterday, willing her to come back, but all Mini saw was her own reflection.
She hadn’t seen her brother yet today. He hadn’t come out of his room.
Papa was in his usual spot by the fireplace, smoking cigarettes, staring into the cold ashes.
No fire today even with frost on the grass this morning and cold mist covering the town like a blanket.
No breakfast either. Mini had fixed herself a piece of bread with jelly.
Mama had made strong black coffee for her and Papa, but that was all.
After following the bird to the pasture yesterday, she’d gone to the cemetery, which she probably shouldn’t have done. But she didn’t know how else to reach him, to leave him a message.
But that had backfired too, just like everything else.
The strangers had seen her.
And now the woman from the cemetery yesterday, Ashley, who’d shone the light from her phone in Mini’s eyes, was walking down their street, right toward the house. And she was carrying Mini’s horse! He was there, tucked right under her arm.
“No, no, no, no,” Mini moaned, a useless incantation.
Shiloh, who was curled on her bed, opened one eye to look at her.
This was bad. Very bad.
Ashley was going to come right up to the door and knock-knock-knock and tell Mama and Papa all about Mini being in the cemetery. Say, “We met your little girl last night by the knackerman’s grave, and she left her toy behind.”
As if Mini could possibly get into any more trouble.
What would Mama do? Lock her in her room? Tie her up outside with a note for the knackerman, saying, Come get her. She deserves it?
Mini held her breath, watching. Ashley glanced up, saw Mini, gave a barely discernible tilt of the head; a gesture that clearly meant come on, follow me. Then she kept on walking down the street.
Should she go? If she didn’t, Ashley might come back to the house and knock.
Mini closed and locked her bedroom door.
Mama wasn’t going to come up and ask if her special girl wanted pancakes or French toast for breakfast. Papa wasn’t going to tease her about the funny cowlick in her hair she could never get to behave and lie flat.
And Finn, he probably wouldn’t come out of his room, period.
He might have died in there by now for all she knew.
She put on her oldest, most patched pair of jeans she used when she was helping Mama in the garden, slipped on her oversized blue hoodie—a hand-me-down from Finn—and pulled up the hood, her best hope for a sort-of disguise.
She opened her bedroom window, checked to see that the street was empty, dropped quickly onto the little roof that covered the side porch, and clambered down the old pear tree, as she had so many times before.
Head down, willing herself not to look back, she sprinted up the street, in the direction Ashley had gone.
It didn’t take long to find her. She was up ahead, turning left onto the old dirt road that led to the side entrance of the cemetery.
Mini moved quickly, keeping her gaze downward, not wanting anyone who happened to pass by to recognize her. But no one passed. The streets were deserted, everyone at school, the factory, or home. But it was more than the time of day; she felt like people were hiding, waiting.
She turned onto the dirt road carpeted in old pine needles, slowing a bit now, taking time to catch her breath and think.
What did this woman want with her? Was she dangerous?
Mini had been warned her whole life about the danger of outsiders.
A person from out of town, a person who hadn’t grown up in Boone’s Ferry, they would never understand the things that went on here.
You mustn’t reveal secrets to an outsider.
They might tell the authorities, who would come to town and ruin everything.
Kids would be taken away, adults questioned and punished. Boone’s Ferry would never survive.
And above all, outsiders must never, ever hear about the knackerman.
Mini had broken that rule too, last night when she told them whose grave it was.
But really, what did she have to lose anymore?
The knackerman was coming for her and her family. It was only a matter of time.
“Not long,” Mama had said. “He’ll come for us soon.”
Was he watching her now?
She didn’t think so. The knackerman began his ride at dusk. Night was his time. In the light of day, they were all safe.
Mini didn’t feel safe, though. She felt eyes on her watching from all directions. She imagined the trees, the old dead grass, even the rocks spying, and that later they would whisper their secrets to the knackerman.
She passed the back side of the church, with the yard where they held picnics and festivals several times a year. Just beyond it, she turned and walked into the cemetery.
Ashley was waiting for her next to the knackerman’s nameless grave.
“I’m glad you came,” Ashley said with a smile.
Mini was quiet for a few seconds, looking at the ground. She could feel Ashley’s eyes on her and she didn’t like it.
“And I’m glad you didn’t knock on my door. If my parents found out I was out here yesterday, I’d be in even worse trouble than I already am.”
“What kind of trouble are you in, Mini?” Ashley asked.
Mini shook her head, kept her eyes on the smooth black stone that marked the grave. “The worst kind.”
Her throat felt thick and strange, and tears started up in the corners of her eyes.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
She concentrated on the sounds around her: the chickadees in the bushes, a dog barking somewhere far away, the ticking of the watch in her pocket.
“Tell me,” Ashley said, voice soft and soothing. “Maybe I can help. See, I happen to know a thing or two about trouble.” She gave Mini a sad smile, and in that smile Mini knew it was true.
But there was no helping Mini. Not with this.
Mini just shook her head, said, “Thanks for bringing my horse.”
“He’s a pretty horse. Does he have a name?”
“Justin. After Justin Morgan. ’Cause he’s a Morgan horse.”
“Is that so?” Ashley said, moving so that she was beside Mini, not staring her down anymore. She passed the horse over. “I have to admit, I don’t know a thing about horses. To be honest, they’ve always kind of freaked me out.”
Horses were one of Mini’s absolute favorite animals. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would be scared of them.
“How come? Did you get thrown or something?”
Ashley shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. I’ve just always been a little afraid—well, maybe more than a little afraid—of them. It’s their size mostly. And their teeth. Those huge blocky teeth. And they can run so fast. If a horse was chasing you, you wouldn’t have a chance.”
“Horses don’t chase people. Not unless a rider makes them.”
“I’m not saying my little phobia has any basis in reality. I guess that’s the true definition of a phobia, right?”
Mini nodded. She knew she should go. Should get back home before someone caught her.
But she liked talking to Ashley. Ashley didn’t treat Mini like she was a dumb kid, say something like, You know what a phobia is, right?
Mini read a lot of books. She knew more than most kids her age about a lot of things.
“Mine’s spiders,” Mini admitted. “Most animals I love, even all the creepy-crawly ones like ants and bees and those orange-and-black beetles that eat dead things. But spiders scare me.”
Ashley nodded. “That’s a pretty common one. Malcolm, my brother, he’s terrified of snakes. And he faints if he sees blood. But don’t tell him I shared that with you, okay? He’s a little embarrassed about it.”
“I won’t tell,” Mini promised, and meant it. She was a good secret keeper.
They were quiet a few seconds and Mini liked it. Most people didn’t like lulls in conversation and kept talking just to fill the silence. She liked that Ashley didn’t feel the need to do that.
“Why’d you come here?” Mini asked, knowing she shouldn’t, but she longed to know. To understand. “No one comes to Boone’s Ferry. Well, hunters sometimes, but you and your brother aren’t hunters, are you?”
Ashley looked around the cemetery. “We had family here once. My great-grandfather was the town doctor a long time ago. Back during the flu.”
“Dr. Endicott?” Mini said.
Ashley turned and looked at Mini. “You know his name?”
“Sure. We learned about him in school. He was an important man. He saved a lot of people back then. He’s the reason the whole town didn’t die in the flu.”
Ashley nodded. “He had a helper. A young woman named Frankie O’Massey. Have you heard of her?”
Mini puzzled over the name, but it wasn’t familiar to her.
She shook her head, then said, “I never heard of her. You should go see Miss Josephine. She lives in Dr. Endicott’s old house.
She knows what happened to everyone in this whole town.
I don’t think there’s anything that’s ever happened here in Boone’s Ferry that Miss Josephine doesn’t know about.
” Mini bit her lip, thinking she’d said too much.
And thinking that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, sending Ashley to see Miss Josephine.