Corner of the Housetop: Buried Secrets (40 page)

Uninterested, Derek stood up and excused himself through the crowd towards the door, Gabriel close behind him. When they were outside, he said, "It seems like there are more people every week."

"Maybe a lot more people sinned last week and felt they should be here."

Derek laughed a little. He was about to reply when he was cut off by the general racket of Anthony Clayton and his friends conversing in needlessly loud voice. Turning to glare, he noticed the small group for four was walking towards Gabriel and him. "Oh, perfect," he groaned.

Turning also, Gabriel looked at the cheerful group longingly.

"We should go back today. We're all here, so we might as well," Toby Whiting implored, looked up at Anthony with glowing adoration. Toby was a year younger than the rest of Anthony's friends and it was only recently since Gabriel's exclusion that he'd been allowed into the exclusive social circle at all. It was a replacement that visibly pained Gabriel.

Trying to take Gabriel's mind off the group, Derek said, "I'm going to town with Devon tomorrow. Mr. Cutter had to order some things for Mrs. Worthington, and they arrived. Maybe you could come with us."

Gabriel nodded slowly, still watching his old friends. As they neared, Marcus Baxter glanced in their direction, then leaned close to Anthony's ear and whispered something that directed his attention to Derek and Gabriel as well.

Anthony looked back at Marcus with a scowl, then stared at Gabriel for a moment. His gaze shifted and he stared into Derek's hard eyes for a second, then smirked. "Gabe," he called suddenly, his tone light and friendly.

"What is it?" he asked, looking around cautiously.

"Come see what we found last week. It's just down by the pond."

"I-I really shouldn't. We'd both be in trouble."

"Who'd you get in trouble with? Weren't your mother who minded you being friends with us," Marcus reasoned.

Gabriel's cheeks turned pink and he looked at his hands for a minute. "Jonathan was pretty mad."

"But he's not here," Anthony replied smoothly, as though expecting the protest. "Do you always do everything you're told?"

Biting his lip, Gabriel looked from Anthony to Derek and then back. "As long as it's just at the pond," he said slowly. He peered guiltily in Derek's direction, not meeting his eyes. "I'll only be a minute. If Mother comes out-"

"I'm not covering for you," Derek answered coolly, his eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Looking back at Anthony, Gabriel said, "I shouldn't."

"Only a minute," Marcus coaxed.

After another second of thought, Gabriel started across the short distance to join their group. With a quick glance to make sure they weren't noticed, they ran around the chapel and towards the hill that sloped to the edge of the woods.

Nodding a little, Derek sulked towards the carriage where Devon was sitting.

"Up an' left, did he?"

"Shut up," Derek said half-heartedly.

"Could say I saw it comin', but I won't."

"You just did, old man."

"Whelp, nothing' fer it, if I already said it."

Annoyed, but in no mood for an argument, Derek just climbed into the carriage to wait for Mrs. Worthington or Gabriel, whoever returned first.

Thinking over the situation, Derek supposed he could hardly be surprised. Gabriel was much like his mother in his need for social acceptance and interaction. It was the same as when Gabriel started spending time with Anthony two years ago. Much like Toby Whiting, Gabriel had been the wide-eyed tagalong. In an effort to impress his new friends, he had shown them the swimming hole on the river. Up until that time, only he and Derek had ever been there. It was a shock the first time Derek went to swim and found other people jumping off of his rock into his river. Gabriel had just stammered that Anthony wouldn't tell anyone about it, and it could still be a secret. It was just Anthony's secret, too.

Not wanting to share anything with Anthony Clayton, Derek had declined with less than polite terms. In his foolish arrogance, Anthony had felt the need to respond. That was the first time he and Derek had gotten into a fight, and it had ended with him holding Anthony under the water until he gave up.

Gabriel and Marcus had been too scared to intervene, leaving their leader to suffer in a painfully uneven match of strength: Derek's many hours of manual labor finally seemed to prove their benefit. Derek was so touched by their loyalty and bonds of friendship that he couldn't help but make several more snide remarks, among them a challenge for any of them to tell Mrs. Worthington what he'd done. "Then Mother will know about your little swimming hole and it can be her secret, too," he'd sneered. It was one of the few transgressions he'd executed within Anthony's knowledge without punishment.

Pushing the old memories aside, Derek peered out the carriage window at the ocean.

It was another ten minutes before Gabriel ran to the carriage and climbed inside. He was breathing heavily and his clothes were rumpled. He was grinning.

Derek eyed him with unconcealed annoyance. "And you don't think your mother will notice that you've been off?"

Gabriel did have the decency to look a little ashamed, but the grin wouldn't disappear. He leaned close and whispered, "I got to see Aniline."

Still eyeing the disrupted state of the other boy's hair and clothes, Derek just shook his head, not responding.

Gabriel started to say something else, but was stopped when Mrs. Worthington arrived.

"Gabriel, what have you done to yourself?"

"I'm sorry, Mother. I was playing with some of the other boys and forgot myself."

Mrs. Worthington glared disapprovingly, but only said, "See to it that it does not happen again."

"Yes, Mother."

As the carriage began to rattle down the dirt road, Derek looked out the window again, trying to fight down the annoyance that grew inside him. He was sure Gabriel would speak of nothing but Aniline from then on and he didn't want to be party to anything that would put him in trouble with Mrs. Worthington again. In fact, he sincerely wished Gabriel hadn't confided in him at all.

Through the rest of the ride, Derek was silent, lost in his own thoughts and preoccupied with the rumbling of his stomach. He hoped it wasn't as loud as it seemed to him, because that would mean Mrs. Worthington could hear it, too. When they turned onto the driveway in front of the house, it wasn't soon enough.

When Devon halted Blueberry by the porch, Derek followed Mrs. Worthington out of the carriage and went around to led the horse to the carriage house. Mrs. Worthington climbed the porch steps quickly. Gabriel followed Derek.

"You can't really be mad at me."

Ignoring him, Derek opened the wide doors.

"I only "

"Gabriel, I really don't care. You can do whatever you want." As Derek worked, Gabriel shadowed him, chattering. When his work was done, Derek took Blueberry by the bridle and started toward the stables.

"I'll come down and see you tomorrow," Gabriel said.

Derek only nodded slightly. As he walked, he thought of the likelihood that Mrs. Worthington would find out Gabriel had been with Aniline. Thinking about it, he wasn't entirely sure she would mind learning that fact, though she would most likely be sure to admonish him against allowing Mrs. Clayton to catch him.

Approaching the stables, Derek called to Devon, "I'm going to get changed and lie down for a few minutes."

"Nothin' to do, so go ahead." Devon wiped his forehead.

When Blueberry was put away, Derek climbed to the loft and settled on his bed. He could only lie still for a moment before he was forced to his feet by an overwhelmingly hallow feeling in his stomach. He didn't feel hungry or thirsty, just oddly empty. A drink of water would help. As he reached for his water jug, his eyes fell on the books beside his bed. He grabbed the jug and swallowed deeply, then wiped his chin with his sleeve. Setting the jug down, he took the waterlogged reader and opened to page eighteen.

He began to read and lost himself in several short stories of prairie farmers, city gentlemen, and southern ranchers. He didn't bother with the comprehension questions and his pencil only ticked the pages by lines he had difficulty with. He was not interested in learning; he only wanted to forget Mrs. Worthington, Gabriel, Aniline, and even himself. Maybe if he read about enough other people he would dissolve into them and cease to exist except in the way that fictional characters existed: suspended in a painless reality until some curious reader picked up a book and brought him to life, then set him down and left him to sleep, heedless of the many trials he'd faced a hundred times before with a hundred different readers, and which he would face a hundred more as new hands found and turned the pages.

Hours passed quickly.

Devon disappeared to the house for dinner. He returned and, grumbling, fed the horses.

The sun sank.

Derek squinted into the pages as the light dimmed and shadows crept into the corners of the loft. When at last he could not make out the shapes of the letter, he set the book down. He hunted around for his lamp and a match. He was only four paragraphs from finishing a passage about a boy taking a train to visit his cousin. He would stop as soon as the boy arrived safely. He could close the book then, and perhaps sleep.

When his lamp was lit, he picked up the book and started where he left off.

As Harold looked out the windows, countryside raced by; trees, rivers, and endless fields flew by on the other side of the soot-filmed glass. When the scenes grew tiresome he closed his eyes and dreamed of the pond behind his cousin's home. Harold looked forward to each summer's visit so he could swim with Billy, who was, to him, as the best older brother….

The farther Derek read, the more the words ran together. He yawned and shifted so he was lying on his pillow. His eyes drooped and he could do little more before he fell asleep than allow the book to drop onto his stomach, lamp light flickering over his face.

Coughing and gagging, Derek woke. He wondered vaguely if he was being sick again. He stared around the loft blearily, his senses suddenly startled awake by the scorching light of a large fire spreading over the hay pile by his bed.

Derek jumped to feet, flames leaping after him. He ran to the ladder, yelling, "Devon! Devon!" His limbs shaking, he climbed down the ladder, jumping the final three rungs. The door to Devon's room was thrown open and the old man hobbled out.

"What happened?" he yelled.

"Fire!"

Devon stared for a moment, then seemed to realize he was, in fact, awake. "Run and tell the misses. I'll get the horses." He sounded impossibly calm. When Derek didn't move for a second, he yelled, "Go!"

Turning, Derek ran out into the dark night, all night fears dissolved in the thought of Devon staying behind in the burning building. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran. The entire side of the roof over the hay pile the side where his bed had been was lost in flames.
It's going to collapse
, he thought. He ran harder.