Tremolo Read online

  Sir raised his head and stared at me as I approached. I stopped ten feet away, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out one of the sugar cubes I stole from the sugar bowl at camp. I knew if I tried to catch him without bait he’d run me ragged until both of us were too tired to go for a ride. He eyed me skeptically, chewing on a mouthful of pasture grass.

  Monty willingly allowed himself to be captured and was on his way to the barn. I stood fast with my hand outstretched. “Hey, Sir. Come on. Over here.” I clicked my tongue to get his attention. “Come on, boy. Come ‘n get some nice sugar.”

  He stared at me, but didn’t move. I decided to brave it and walked another step toward him. He raised his head higher and almost turned to trot away when he noticed my outstretched hand.

  “Come on, Sir. We’re going for a nice ride. You don’t wanna be left home alone, do you?”

  He took three deliberate steps toward me.

  I held the lead rope behind my back with one hand and jiggled the sugar cube in the other. “Let’s go, Sir. Here ya go, boy.”

  The gelding took another two steps toward me, stopping just before he reached me. He stretched his neck as far as possible, maintaining his advantage. He couldn’t reach.

  “One more step, boy. That’s it.”

  The big horse capitulated and inched forward. His muzzle moved over my hand and the sugar cube disappeared.

  Quickly, I grabbed his halter, attaching the brass clip to the ring beneath his chin. When he realized he was caught, he backed up frantically.

  “Hey, there. Come on now.” I held tight to the rope.

  Finally he stopped, lowered his head, and surrendered.

  I stroked his blaze and murmured to him. “Good boy. What a good boy. You remember me, don’t you Sir?” I dug out another sugar cube and fed it to him as we walked back to the barn. I hoped he would remember next time.

  Monty stood in crossties midway down the aisle. Elsbeth ran a brush through his thick forelock. The gentle gelding lowered his head to her hands and thoroughly enjoyed the attention from his adoring fan.

  I clipped Sir into his crossties and went over to the box of currycombs, brushes, and various other tools of the trade. I picked a hard stiff brush, a soft-bristled finishing brush, a rag, and a hoof pick.

  There were bits of grass and leaves in his mane and tail, one burdock firmly entrenched in his forelock, and several small patches of crusty mud on his flank. I worked systematically from front to back, starting with the stiff bristled brush to dislodge the mud and loose hair, and finishing with the soft brush and a rag to polish his gleaming coat. After twenty minutes he was sparkling, his mane and tail were fluffy, and his hooves were clean. The twins finished about the same time as I did, since their mount required extra care in his white patches.

  Siegfried applied hoof polish to Monty’s variegated white and black hooves. I sprayed both horses with Repel-X bug spray, wiping a rag soaked in the solution inside the horses’ ears, around their jaws, down their blazes, and under their chests. The mosquitoes could be fierce deep in the woods, and if we ran into a patch of horseflies, we’d all be miserable without some protection. Elsbeth bridled Monty with a gentle snaffle bit. I used a more traditional Pelham bit on Sir. The shank of the added curb accomplished what its name implied, curbing his more devilish instincts to bolt with an eleven-year-old on his back.

  The saddles that Mr. Anderson bought at auction years ago no longer fit. The horses’ bellies had grown in proportion to their excellent care. We’d given up trying to make them work and had learned to enjoy riding bareback.

  Elsbeth mounted first with a leg up from Sig. He handed her the leather bag with the blanket, then led Monty over to the fence. The horse stood calmly while he climbed up onto the top rail and hopped on board behind his sister.

  Sir was not as cooperative. I’d tried the fence routine numerous times last summer, but realized it would never work. The horse was too quick for me. To deal with his prancing side step, I learned to mount from the ground. I grabbed the reins and a large handful of mane in my left hand and tightened up the rein. If he moved, he’d be forced to walk in a small circle. I grasped his mane tightly, hopped on my left foot, and leapt up in a surprisingly graceful arc onto his back as he began, as expected, to turn in tight circles to his left. Once up, I released the tension on the left rein and sat down firmly on his back when he tried to trot before I was ready to go. I redirected him back to the fence to get my backpack. After three tries, I got close enough, grabbed the pack, and slid my arms through it. I let Sir canter up beside Monty and the twins, who were already loping along the fence toward the woods.

  Chapter 20

  It took an hour to find the boulder where I’d left the candy the day before. We followed snapped branches in what seemed like circles until we came upon a spot I recognized. Siegfried and I led the horses and Elsbeth rode astride, ducking low or breaking branches above her head to help clear a path. Siegfried carried his map and compass and assured me that once we found the boulder, he would prepare a superior exit path using his orienteering skills. I wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but had seen him striding purposefully through the woods at home with compass and map in hand. He’d never gotten us lost and I trusted his ability to get us back to camp safely.

  Elsbeth slid off of Monty’s back. “Are you sure this is it?”

  I glanced around the area, scratching my head. The big boulder looked very familiar. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure…”

  Siegfried walked over to a bush and picked something up from the ground. “Ja, Gus. Here’s the wrapper from the bubble gum you left for Sharon. The Bazooka Joe comic is gone, though.”

  I handed Sir’s reins to Elsbeth and ran to Siegfried’s side, taking the wrapper from him. My heart leapt in my chest. “She was here. Oh my gosh. I don’t believe it.”

  We stopped and exchanged long glances, then peered into the surrounding woods.

  Siegfried lowered his voice. “Do you think she’s watching us?”

  A shiver ran down my spine. “She might be. I think she was watching me yesterday.”

  Elsbeth began to call out in a low, sweet voice. “Sharon? Shaaarrrrron.”

  The echo of her lilting voice traveled through the pine trees and back again. She tried again, this time adding more information. “Sharon? We have food and a blanket for you! Sharon, please come out.”

  A cool breeze lifted the fronds of the ferns, rippling along the forest floor. An owl hooted softly in the distance.

  “She’s afraid.” I said softly. “She’s afraid we’ll capture her and bring her back to that drunk.”

  We called for five more minutes, trying to entice her out of hiding.

  No dice.

  Disappointed, I tethered both horses to bushes and opened the lunch bag. I unwrapped the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and poured red Kool-Aid into three Dixie cups. Elsbeth spread the blanket on the top of the boulder and surprised us with a bag of Fritos and some carrot sticks. We sprawled on the blanket and began to eat.

  Elsbeth took a dainty bite of her sandwich. “I wonder if she has a mother?”

  “Good question,” I said.

  Siegfried reached for his second Twinkie, downing it in two bites. “Ja. What if she has brothers and sisters?” he mumbled.

  Elsbeth refilled his cup and he drained it in one swallow.

  I started to take one of the carrot sticks, but Elsbeth slapped the back of my hand.

  “Nein! Those are for the horses.”

  I quickly withdrew my hand and smiled. “Sorry. I should’ve known.”

  She grabbed the carrots that were wrapped in an old piece of wax paper and a rubber band and carried them over to her equine friends.

  Both massive horse heads turned and persistently nudged her until she’d given them all of the treats. She brushed her hands against her jeans and walked back to the rock.

  Carefully, she arranged the remaining sandwiches and food on the blanket, then dug a small folde
d piece of paper out of her pocket, anchoring it with a rock beside the food.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “A note to Sharon,” she said quietly. “It tells her who we are and that we won’t hurt her.”

  “Do you think she’ll write back?” I asked.

  Siegfried pulled a short stubby pencil out of his shirt pocket. “Not without a pencil,” he said as he laid it on the blanket.

  Elsbeth and I nodded in approval.

  We made our way out of the woods following Siegfried and his compass. Every twenty steps or so, he blazed a tree trunk with his pocketknife. We made a trail that took us straight back to the path connecting up with the Andersons’ farm.

  When we arrived back at camp we spent a full hour sweeping the sundeck and living room porch to ensure our right to borrow Grandpa’s skiff, then headed up the hill in search of William.

  Chapter 21

  William bent over plastic parts spread on a newspaper and adjusted his work light. It was quiet in the bunkroom. The twins and I watched him arrange model pieces he’d snapped off the grid. He flattened the instruction sheet and tacked it to the paneled wall behind the desk.

  “Did you kids have fun today?” he asked without taking his eyes from his project.

  We answered in unison. “Uh-huh.”

  William leaned forward and chose a small round piece. He held it up against another and pursed his lips. Frowning, he checked the instructions, then rearranged the two pieces so they fit together perfectly. Satisfied, he reached for the model glue, unscrewed the cap, and pierced the aluminum seal with the end of a safety pin. The strong smell of toluene filled the room. Carefully, he applied a dab of glue on the parts and set them on the newspaper to dry.

  Elsbeth spoke up. “We found Gus’s rock.”

  I shot her a warning glance. William was a good guy, but if he knew we’d found Sharon, he’d tell his folks. Sharon would be forced to go back to her the father who beat her and we’d all be responsible for her future pain. Until we figured out what to do, I wanted to keep our discovery to ourselves.

  “Gus’s rock?” he said. “What’s that?” William glanced sideways at me and continued to work, breathing noisily through his nose.

  I answered before Elsbeth could explain, afraid she’d spill the beans. “Oh, it’s just a big boulder that makes a good fort. Out in the west woods. We ate lunch on it today. It could make an excellent clipper ship, too.”

  His nose whistled while he concentrated on the instructions. “Well, as long as you three don’t get lost out there like you did yesterday. Stick together. There’s an awful lot of wilderness out there, kids. You know, black bears, moose. You might wanna stay closer to camp for your next picnic.”

  We exchanged glances behind William’s back.

  “We’ll be okay. We’ve got Siegfried’s compass and the map, and usually Shadow’s with us. He’s a good watch dog, you know,” I said.

  At the mention of his name, Shadow lifted his head from his paws. He’d been sleeping on William’s bunk bed on a gray woolen blanket pulled tightly across the mattress.

  William told us in the navy sailors had to make their beds “just so.” He was practicing, and wanted to get a head start on the technique. He hoped to rise to the top of his class when he joined up, and to become an officer within seven years. We’d heard the story many times and listened eagerly every time William received a letter from his cousin Daniel, a five-year veteran of the navy. Postcards from every port were pinned to the wooden boards over the desk, featuring tropical seascapes and dancing hula girls.

  I glanced around the small bunkroom with envy. The building housed the ice room, the laundry, a small woodshop, two bunkrooms, and a washroom. Various pennants were pinned above the bunks: mementos of past occupants.

  My grandparents usually hired college students as cabin boys, but this year they’d agreed to hire William. Although he was just entering his sophomore year in high school, he was a hard worker and almost as tall as most of the college freshman. Strong, lean, and dedicated, he learned his job rapidly and became indispensable the first week. Normally Grandfather hired two cabin boys, but the boy who’d promised to come back this year from Clarkson College broke his leg while climbing in the Adirondacks. Grandfather was still searching for a suitable replacement and William had worked hard to fill the void.

  After forty minutes of concentrating and piecing together tiny parts, William capped the glue and pushed back his chair. He rubbed the top of his nose and sighed. “The hardest part is done. Tomorrow I can start attaching parts to the body of the car.”

  “Neat,” I said. “Can we watch again?”

  He smiled and looked at us. “Sure, but don’t you kids have anything better to do than watch me build models? Isn’t it boring?”

  We shook our heads, again in unison.

  “Heck no, William. It’s a blast,” Siegfried said.

  I loved it when Siegfried picked up the latest slang. It added such an interesting flavor to his potpourri of German phrases.

  “Ja, William, it’s keen,” said Elsbeth, using her own favorite word.

  A knock sounded on the door and we swiveled around to find Betsy standing in the doorway. She flashed a helpless look and my heart began to beat in the way only she could inspire.

  Chapter 22

  “Excuse me?” Betsy’s voice was small, tentative. She looked through the doorway with wide eyes.

  William bolted from his chair, knocking it back in his haste. He pushed past me and strode to the door. “Betsy. What’s up?”

  We followed William, crowding around him. He batted us back and moved closer to her, ogling her with a moonstruck expression.

  I recognized the look. A pang of jealousy hit me square in the chest. William liked Betsy. Although I knew it was ridiculous, I enjoyed her gentle teasing and dreamed I might earn a special place in her heart.

  She looked up at William with interest, batting her eyes as she spoke. “I can’t seem to make this darned washing machine work. Can you help me?”

  Betsy had changed from a white waitress uniform to Sunday casual clothes. Her smooth brown hair was pulled high into a ponytail tied with a white filmy scarf. She wore turquoise pedal pushers that snugged around her rounded hips. The pant legs wrapped around her well-defined calves. She wore a lavender sweater backwards, a new style of the day. The pearly buttons rippled down her spine in a gentle curve, riding the fabric as she moved. A thin strand of white pearls graced her neck. On her feet were black Capezios, the thin leather slippers that had become so popular with the girls that year. She walked with the grace of a ballerina, placing each foot carefully before the other.

  I followed, spellbound, and accidentally slammed into the side of the workbench. The edge of the table caught me in the ribs and my right shin scraped against the table leg.

  Siegfried caught me just before I went down. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I waved him away, mortified that Betsy might see.

  Elsbeth stared at me with a puzzled expression. “Gus? Are you feeling okay? You look funny.”

  My face reddened. Fortunately, neither William nor Betsy turned around. William draped his arm over her shoulder and they leaned forward to examine the machine controls. He slowly pointed out the features.

  Betsy’s giggle mimicked the tremolo of the loons, melodic and sweet. Confusion spun my brain in circles. That tremolo, that crystalline yodel, belonged to my feathered friends on the lake, not in a flirtatious encounter in the icehouse.

  She sidled up to him and batted her lashes.

  I clenched my fists and bit my lip. How could he? How could she?

  William opened the washer door and showed her where to put the detergent. “It goes right in here, see?”

  She laughed again, this time sounding like tinkling wind chimes. Did she really not know how to run a washing machine? I wondered if it was all a ruse to get him to pay her attention.

  I sagged against the workbenc
h and held my ribs. The pain was still fierce and I wondered if I’d broken a bone or something.

  Elsbeth slid a protective arm over my shoulder. “Gus? What’s the matter?”

  “I’m okay,” I whispered. “I just need a second to get over it.” I took a deep breath and managed to straighten up.

  The twins both leaned down into my face.

  “Gus?” Siegfried whispered.

  I shrugged them off. “I’m fine, really. I’m fine.” I managed a small smile.

  “Okay,” Elsbeth said hesitantly. “If you’re sure?”

  I nodded and smiled wider this time.

  She seemed relieved.

  Siegfried gave me one more piercing look, then finally joined his sister, heading for the door.

  “We’ll meet you in the living room after dinner,” Elsbeth called over her shoulder.

  I waved at them. “Okay. See you later.”

  William twisted the control knob to its appropriate position, then tugged on it to start the machine.

  I meandered over and watched as it started to fill with water.

  “Oh. So that’s how it works,” Betsy widened her clear green eyes in admiration. She glanced over at me, smiling. “I’ll bet you knew how to work it all along, hey, little man?”

  I blushed furiously and went tongue-tied.

  She sashayed toward me, linking her arm in mine. “Gus is my special friend.” She leaned down to brush her soft lips against my cheek.

  My legs wobbled and my vision grew unfocused when she pressed her warm body against my side. She smiled up at William, running her slim fingers through my hair. “I think you should grow it out, Gus. Nice and long. You look a little bit like Paul, you know. Those big, long-lashed eyes of yours are beautiful. I think with long hair you’d really resemble him.”

  I just stood there. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.