Chapter 8 Gil
Eight
Gil
Present Day
“Gil, you genius! You found the dragonfly!” Zara held up her hand, and Gil blinked. The girl took his palm and slapped it with her own. “It’s called a high five.”
“High five.” Gil needed to remember to ask both girls for pen, ink, and paper so he could begin writing down vocabulary words and definitions.
“How did you spot it?” asked Benny, pulling back her hair with a hair tie. He could see the gears turning in her head. Sparrow was like that too. Always thinking of something or trying to work out a tricky problem without asking for help.
Gil felt his face burn. “I wanted to go in and use the privy and the light switch, so I was going to knock to be let into the house by Mr. Wally when I spotted it.” He knew it was improper to discuss the “necessary,” but when Zara had explained people didn’t use privies or chamber pots anymore and showed him the indoor privy, he’d been fascinated.
The light switch—instant lamplight!—was incredible too.
“When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go,” Zara joked.
Gil felt strange discussing this topic. “The plaque is so close to the house’s entrance. It is as if the dragonfly was hiding in plain sight.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what Evelyn was hoping would happen,” Benny traced the raised gold image of the dragonfly on the plaque.
It was black with gold lettering and trim, the gold insect centered on the bottom.
A weathered screw at each corner—four in total—anchored the plaque in place.
The gold was starting to turn green after so much time spent outside.
Gil touched the plaque too, wondering if Evelyn herself had placed it on this house. She was handy that way. “The plaque says 1836. Is that the year Sparrow built this place?”
“I believe so,” Benny said. “She raised her family here and turned it into an inn.”
Gil felt his insides wobble. It was strange to think of Evelyn growing up, having children, a family and life that he wasn’t a part of.
But then he remembered Benny. She was a part of Evelyn, so in a way, she lived on, didn’t she?
I will miss you forever, and I promise you will never be forgotten, he said to himself, hoping wherever Evelyn was now, she could hear him.
“This could be original,” Zara noted. “See how the screws are corroded? And how the plaque is made of cast metal? That’s what most historic plaques are made of. I should know, since Grams is the one who commissions them for houses in Greenport.”
Benny tried to pry the plaque loose, but it didn’t budge. “We’re going to need a screwdriver.”
“A turnscrew? I’ll get one,” Gil said, hoping to be helpful. “Shall I ask Wally?”
“You shall,” Benny said with a glimmer in her eye. “Go right in.”
Gil felt strange walking through the house without Sparrow, but knowing she’d walked these very floors gave him comfort. He wanted to explore every nook and cranny. Find all the things that were once hers.
“Wally?” Gil called into the kitchen, feeling odd addressing an adult by their first name. “Benny needs a turnscrew.”
“I have one right here,” said the older man, moving over to a drawer in the kitchen with gadgets he didn’t understand. Wally handed the tool to Gil. “Please let her know I’m here if she needs anything or if you need anything.” Wally stared at Gil. “Like somewhere to stay?”
Gil felt his heartbeat quicken. Did the man know who he really was?
“We always have room in this big house and the inn for a friend of Benny’s.” He smiled like a man with a secret. Or maybe Gil was just misreading things.
“Thank you, sir.” He held up the turnscrew and smiled before departing the kitchen. When he got back outside, the wind had picked up, and both girls had their hoods up to block the rain.
Zara took the tool. “Let me try. My grandmother says I have superhuman strength with jars. Maybe that strength extends to screws.” Zara twisted the screw till one came loose. The second one came off easier, and in minutes, Zara was prying the plaque from the wall.
With the plaque removed, the three of them stared into a small hole. It looked as if someone had purposefully forgotten to place a brick in this one spot.
Benny reached her hand into the opening, and Gil held his breath. “I think I found something,” she said excitedly and pulled out a small wooden box.
Gil stared at it in wonder, hoping he’d recognize the box, but he didn’t. The wood was rotted, spots of it black, other areas eaten away by what Gil assumed were bugs.
Zara cheered. “Hurry up and open it.” She pulled them under the vestibule to keep dry.
“The wood is soft. I don’t want to rip anything inside.” Benny examined the box from all angles. “Hand me the screwdriver.” Zara did, and Benny placed the tool into the groove to open the box. It popped open. Inside was a pouch.
Gil gasped. “I’ve seen a pouch like this before. It looks like the one Sparrow gave us with her letter about the treasure. Mine didn’t have a coin, but the others’ did.”
“That jerk Axel stole yours,” Zara said.
Gil couldn’t hide his surprise. “How did you…?”
“Evelyn explained it all in her diary,” Benny said. “Each time I found one of her clues, I got another journal entry. She told us what happened that night the island disappeared.”
Sparrow had written about everything. Did she know the small part he played in what occurred? His head began to throb. Was she angry with him because of it?
Benny pulled an envelope out of the bag. “Maybe you’ll be quicker at solving these riddles than we are.” She held the envelope out for him. Gil felt a shiver go down his spine. There was Evelyn’s perfect penmanship. And written on the envelope were three words: For Everly Benedict.
Gil faltered. “I still don’t understand how Sparrow knew your name. You weren’t born yet.” He paused, piecing things together quickly. “Aggy.”
“Yes,” Benny said. “I still don’t know why it’s me that ends this curse, but Aggy is the one who sent Evelyn on this journey to find me in the future, and I promise you, I’m not going to stop searching till I fix this for all of you.”
“I believe that.” Gil meant it. They smiled at one another.
Carefully Benny opened the envelope. She pulled out numerous sheets of paper. “There is a riddle on one page, but the others are blank.”
“That makes no sense.” Zara frowned. “Why would she hide blank pages?”
“Wait! What’s that there?” Gil pointed to the bottom of one of the pages. There were a few words in very small print.
Benny held the page up. “It says, Don’t trust her.”
Gil felt slightly off-kilter like he might tip over. No.
“Who is her?” Benny wondered as the wind blew strands of her brown hair around. “And who wrote this? It’s not written in Evelyn’s handwriting. Gil? Do you recognize this handwriting?”
Don’t trust her. “No.” He shook his head a bit too hard.
“Or know who her is?” Zara tapped her fingers on the bricks. Her nails were painted blue. He had never seen nails like that before. “Kimble mentioned a her too, didn’t he?”
Gil rubbed his arms. He needed to get a coat. Maybe Wally had one. He was suddenly so cold, as if he’d never be warm again. Don’t trust her. Should he tell them what he knew?
“Read the riddle,” Zara suggested. “Maybe it will explain who her is.”
Benny read aloud:
There is a story you must find
to reveal what I have in mind.
This tale, so very apro poe,
Sheds light on what you soon shall know—
the reason I committed my crime,
and why we’ve had to bide our time
till you could save what once was mine.
Benny looked at them both. “Well, I cracked one part of the clue already.”
“What’s that?” Gil asked, feeling more at ease now that there was no mention of her.
Benny folded up the pages again and grinned. “We need to go back to Evelyn’s library.”