Betsy-Tacy and Tib (9 page)

“I think,” she said, “that we’d better use these bags for marbles again. We seem to get into trouble when we tie things around our necks.”

“That’s right. We do,” said Tacy. And she threw away her stones too.

“Maybe we’d better change our Club a little,” Tacy said, “have our meetings up on the Big Hill.”

“Have refreshments,” said Tib.

“Take lunch baskets up,” said Tacy.

“And a stick and a package, maybe,” said Tib.

“What do you think, Betsy?” Tacy asked. For Betsy had not yet thrown away her stones. She was looking up at the western sky where a pale green lake was surrounded by peach-colored mountains, distant and mysterious.

“All right,” said Betsy, and she threw away her stones. “But of course we must keep on being good.”

“Oh, of course!” said Tacy.

“That’s what our Club is for,” added Betsy.

“It’s a Being Good Club,” Tacy said.

“Well, it didn’t make us good today,” said Tib. “It made us bad.”

Neither Betsy nor Tacy would have mentioned that. But they didn’t mind Tib’s mentioning it. They understood Tib.

In silence the three of them looked at the sunset and thought about God.

R
OM THAT time on T.C.K.C. meetings were held on the Big Hill. Every Tuesday Julia and Katie went up on the Big Hill for a meeting of their B.H.M. Club. And every Tuesday Betsy and Tacy and Tib climbed the hill for T.C.K.C. meetings. Yet not once had Betsy and Tacy and Tib caught a glimpse of Julia and Katie. That
shows how big the Big Hill was.

Betsy and Tacy and Tib did different things at their meetings…. They always took a picnic lunch, of course; but they didn’t take a stick and a package, for they didn’t know what Julia and Katie did at their Club with a stick and a package. They couldn’t imagine. Sometimes Betsy and Tacy and Tib called on Mrs. Ekstrom and laughed about that day when they had pretended they were beggars. And sometimes they turned left at the top of the hill and walked to that lofty rim from which they had a view over the town and the river. But one day they turned right.

Here the Big Hill stretched away to the south. Flat and grassy and dotted with trees, the top of the Big Hill stretched to they didn’t know where. Betsy and Tacy and Tib decided to walk in that direction. They walked and they walked and they walked.

They were carrying a picnic basket; and although they took turns carrying it, it grew heavy at last. The day was warm and they were almost ready to stop and eat their lunch beneath the shade of the trees when Tib made a discovery.

“Look!” she said. “These trees aren’t just scattered every which way any more.”

“They’re going in two rows,” said Tacy.

“It’s a lane!” cried Betsy. She stopped still. They all
stopped, and they looked before and behind them.

Sure enough, it was a lane. The trees were no longer scattered oaks and elms and maples; they were all beech trees and they were planted in two rows. The rows ran as straight as though they had been laid down with a ruler. They ran like two lines of marching soldiers … where?

“Where do you suppose this lane leads to?” Tacy asked.

“There isn’t any house up on the Big Hill, except the Ekstroms’,” Tib said.

Betsy peered down the mysterious shadowy lane.

“Maybe Aunt Dolly lives up here,” she said.

“Oh no,” said Tib. “She lives in Milwaukee.”

“She
used
to live in Milwaukee,” said Tacy. “That doesn’t mean she will live there forever.”

“Well, she lives in Milwaukee now,” said Tib. “Because my mamma had a letter from her. She’s coming to visit us.”

“What?” cried Betsy.

“You never told us!” cried Tacy.

“I was going to tell you,” said Tib. “But this Aunt Dolly who’s coming to visit us … she’s just Aunt Dolly. She doesn’t live in a mirror or up in the sky or here in this lane or anything. Does she, Betsy?” Tib looked puzzled.

“Wait and see,” said Betsy. “When’s she coming?”

“Next week,” said Tib.

“Tib!” cried Betsy and Tacy.

They could hardly believe their good luck.

“We can see her!” cried Betsy.

“We’ll come over and peek,” said Tacy.

“Oh, I’ll invite you in,” said Tib. “You can come in and talk to her.”

“I’d be scared to,” said Tacy.

“Why, she’s very nice,” said Tib. “Would you be scared, Betsy?”

“Yes, a little,” Betsy said.

“I don’t see why,” said Tib.

“Well,” said Betsy. “Let’s investigate this lane. And then we can talk some more.”

The lane was like a tunnel, green and dim. No clover or butter-and-eggs or daisies grew beneath the beeches. Tacy found some clammy Indian pipes but mostly the grass was empty now. There were traces of a path.

“There’s a path here,” Betsy said.

“There used to be,” said Tib. “But nobody uses it much any more.”

“I wonder why not,” said Tacy. She said it in a whisper.

“It’s leading to something,” said Tib excitedly.

“It’s so stately,” said Betsy looking overhead. “It seems as though it should lead to a Palace.”

“It’s scary,” whispered Tacy. “I’m almost scared to go on.”

Betsy was scared too, but she wouldn’t admit it. Tib wasn’t scared though. Tib was tiny but she was never scared.

“Come on,” she said. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.” And she flew ahead like a little yellow feather. Betsy and Tacy followed, and they came to the end of the lane.

At the end of the lane was the beginning of a house. Just the foundation walls of a house, and it seemed to have been built a long time ago. Tall woolly mullein stalks and blue vervain and sunflowers crowded around the low stone wall which was crumbling and falling away.

“Who do you suppose started that house?” asked Betsy, staring at it.

“And why didn’t they finish it?” asked Tacy.

“I’ll ask my father,” said Tib. “He knows all about houses.”

“Oh, no!” cried Betsy. “Let’s have this for a secret. We’ll call it the Secret Lane.”

“We’ll say S.L.,” said Tacy, “so no one will know what we mean.”

“If anyone asks us where we’ve been today, we’ll say we’ve been to the S.L.,” said Tib, dancing about in delight.

“And sometimes we’ll say, ‘Let’s go up to the S.L.,’” said Tacy.

“We’ll drive Julia and Katie nearly crazy,” Betsy said.

And they all began to laugh, and they scrambled up on the wall. Tib started to walk around it.

“Don’t do that, Tib,” said Betsy. “These stones are pretty wiggly.”

“And this cellar’s deep,” said Tacy, looking down into the weed-grown soggy place.

But Tib didn’t listen to them, and she didn’t fall either. She ran on light toes to the back of the cellar wall. When she got there she turned around and came back, so swiftly, so eagerly, that Betsy and Tacy knew she had news.

“Ssh! Ssh!” she said as they drew near.

“What is it?” whispered Betsy and Tacy.

“Just wait ’til you see,” Tib replied.

“Do we have to walk on the wall?” asked Betsy.

“No,” said Tib. “We can go this way.” And she took hold of their hands.

She led them softly around to the back of the house. Reddening sumac bushes crowded close, almost concealing the wall. Tib motioned Betsy and Tacy to pause. They hid themselves in the bushes.

At the back of the house a wing jutted out. A plum tree shaded a little square of ground. And
there beneath the plum tree, which was covered with small red balls, sat Julia and Katie.

A fringed blue and white cloth was spread out on the grass. And each girl had a hard-boiled egg in front of her, and a sandwich, and a chunk of cake. Stuck up beside them was a stick and on the stick was a big square card, the same size and shape as that package they always carried to their meetings. It was lettered in large red letters:

“Big Hill Mystery! That’s B.H.M.” Betsy whispered. Tacy and Tib nodded excitedly.

Julia and Katie peeled and salted their eggs. They were having a very serious conversation. They were talking about what they would be when they grew up. Julia thought she would be an opera singer, and Katie thought she would be a nurse.

“Either a nurse or a …” began Katie. But just then Betsy moved, and a branch crackled.

“Ssh!” said Julia. “What’s that I hear?”

She and Katie looked around.

Behind the sumac bushes Betsy and Tacy and Tib hardly dared to breathe. They scrunched down and waited until Julia and Katie had turned back to their lunch. Then they put their fingers to their lips and pointed to the front of the house. Saying “Ssh! Ssh! Ssh!” and lifting their feet very high, they crept away.

Back in the Secret Lane they hugged one another for joy.

“We know their secret,” Betsy said.

“We know where their Club meets,” Tacy added.

“We know what B.H.M. means,” cried Tib.

They jumped and danced … but softly.

“Where shall we eat our lunch?” asked Tacy.

“Right here,” said Betsy. “And when they come out from their Club they will see us, and they’ll
know that we know where their Club meets.”

So they sat down and spread out a red and white fringed cloth; and a hard-boiled egg apiece, and a sandwich apiece, and a chunk of cake apiece.

“What’s that noise I hear?” asked Tacy as they peeled and salted their eggs.

“Nothing,” said Betsy. “They wouldn’t be through with their lunch. Let’s print the name of our Club on a card and stick it up whenever we meet.”

“The Christian Kindness Club! It would look fine,” Tacy said.

“I’ll print it,” said Tib.

While they ate their lunch they had a very serious conversation.

“What shall we do when we grow up?” asked Betsy.

“I’m going to get married and have babies,” said Tacy without even thinking.

“I’m going to be a dancer,” said Tib, “or else an architect. I haven’t made up my mind.”

“I’m going to be an author,” said Betsy. “And I’m going to look exactly like Aunt Dolly.”

“You’ll have to get different colored hair,” said Tib.

“I know it,” said Betsy. “But people do.”

“Ssh! Ssh! I hear something,” Tacy said.

This time Betsy and Tib heard it too. And they caught the flash of red and blue dresses around the
corner of the wall.

“We see you!” they cried, jumping up.

Julia and Katie started to run, and Betsy and Tacy and Tib started to chase them. Tib remembered, though, to pick up the basket and the red and white fringed cloth.

They chased Julia and Katie through the Secret Lane and past Mrs. Ekstrom’s house and down the Big Hill. Nobody caught anybody but it was very exciting. Shouting, feet pounding, skirts flying, they ran into Betsy’s yard.

Betsy’s mother was sitting there with Margaret playing beside her.

“Mercy! What’s the matter?” she asked, as they dropped in a heap of waving arms and legs.

“We know where your B.H.M. Club meets!” shouted Betsy, Tacy and Tib.

“We know where your T.C.K.C. meets,” Julia and Katie shouted back.

“Big Hill Mystery!” yelled Betsy, Tacy and Tib.

“The Christian Kindness Club!” yelled Julia and Katie.

“You see,” said Tacy to Betsy and Tib, “I
told
you someone was there.”

Betsy’s mother took Margaret on her lap to be out of the way of the waving arms and legs.

“I have a suggestion to make,” she said, smiling.
“Since you know all about one another’s clubs, and since they both meet up on the Big Hill, why don’t you have your meetings together?”

“Together!” cried Julia and Katie and Betsy and Tacy and Tib.

“Go up on the Big Hill together and eat your picnics together. I think it would be fun,” Betsy’s mother said.

Julia and Katie looked at each other in horror, and Betsy and Tacy and Tib exchanged horrified glances too.

Wasn’t that just like a grown-up, thought Betsy, to think that that would be fun?

“You think it over,” said Betsy’s mother, smiling.

“Yes ma’am,” said Julia and Katie and Betsy and Tacy and Tib.

And they thought it over. But the B.H.M. and the T.C.K.C. never met together. Not once.