Time for Andrew: A Ghost Story by Mary Downing Hahn

  "I must have been a raving lunatic," I muttered.

  Theo scowled, but the sound of a Model T chugging up the driveway stopped him from saying more. Its headlamps lit the trees and washed across the house.

  "It's John again," Theo said. "Papa will start charging him room and board soon."

  Hidden in the shadows, we watched John jump out of the car and run up the porch steps. Hannah met him at the door. From inside the house, their laughter floated toward us as silvery as moonlight, cutting into my heart like a knife.

  "Hannah has a beau." Theo sounded as if he were trying out a new word, testing it for rightness. He giggled. "Do you think she lets him lass her?"

  I spat in the grass, a trick I'd learned from Edward. "Don't be silly."

  "What's silly about smooching? When I'm old enough, I plan to kiss Marie Jenkins till our lips melt." Making loud smacking sounds with his mouth, Theo demonstrated. Pushing him away, I wrestled him to the ground and started tickling him.

  As he pleaded for mercy, we heard the screen door open. Thinking Mama was about to call us inside, we broke apart and lay still. It was Hannah and John.

  "They're sitting in the swing," Theo whispered. "Come on, let's spy on them. I bet a million zillion dollars they start spooning."

  Stuffing his jar of fireflies into his shirt, Theo dropped to his knees and crawled across the lawn toward the house. I followed him, sure he was wrong. Hannah wasn't old enough for kissing. Or silly enough.

  We reached the bushes beside the porch without being seen. Crouched in the dirt, we were so close I could have reached up and grabbed Hannah's ankle. To keep from giggling, Theo pressed his hands over his mouth.

  Sick with jealousy, I watched John put his arm around Hannah and draw her close. As his lips met hers, I felt Theo jab my side. I teetered and lost my balance. The bushes swayed, the leaves rustled, a twig snapped under my feet.

  "Be quiet," Theo hissed in my ear. "Do you want to get us killed?"

  We backed out of the bushes, hoping to escape, but it was too late. Leaving John in the swing, Hannah strode down the porch steps, grabbed us each by an ear, and shook us like rats. "Can't a body have a second of privacy?"

  Theo and I begged her to forgive us, but Hannah's dander was up. If she hadn't noticed the fireflies under our shirts, I don't know what she would ve done to us.

  Snatching my jar, she gazed at my captives. The flickering glow lit her face. I wanted to tell her she was beautiful, I wanted to tell her I'd love her forever, but all I could say was "These are for you, I caught them just for you, Hannah."

  "Poor things," she said softly, her temper gone without a trace. "I'll have to let them go, Andrew. They'll die if I don't."

  Before I could stop her, she removed the lid and held the jar high over her head. "Fly away, fly away," she cried. Like sparks from a bonfire, the fireflies escaped in a sparkling green mist.

  Theo handed his jar to Hannah. "Set mine free too."

  In moments, Theo's fireflies rose and scattered across the dark sky.

  "They're going to the moon," Theo shouted. "They're going to the stars!"

  "I wish I could send the pair of you with them," Hannah muttered. "Maybe I'd have some peace and quiet then."

  We crossed the dew-soaked grass and climbed the front steps. Theo darted into the house, but I sat on the railing near the swing. There was a pitcher on the table, and I was hoping Hannah would offer me some. / lived here, John didn't. Surely I had a right to a glass of that lemonade.

  From the shadows, John smiled at me, but I pretended not to notice. Hannah was sitting beside him. A little too close, I thought. Surely Papa wouldn't approve.

  "Have you been practicing your boxing?" he asked.

  I nodded but I kept my eyes on the huge moth fluttering against the window screen. Plock, plock, plock—it wanted to get to the light in the parlor.

  "It sure is hot," I said. "A glass of lemonade would really taste good."

  Hannah laughed. "Andrew is known all over Riverview for his subtlety."

  I scowled at her, angered by the simpery way she spoke to John, but Hannah just laughed again. "Run along, Andrew. It's way past your bedtime."

  "Yes," John agreed. "Growing boys need their rest."

  Before I could think of a fitting reply, Mama appeared in the doorway. "Stop pestering your sister, Andrew," she said. "It's time you were upstairs in bed."

  I looked at Hannah, hoping she'd rescue me, but all she said was, "Good night, Andrew."

  John raised his hand in a farewell gesture, and at the same moment, Mama stepped outside and collared me. "When I tell you to do something, I expect to be obeyed." Giving my bottom a swat, she sent me upstairs.

  Theo was waiting in the hall. Puckering his lips, he threw his arms around me. "Oh, John, John," he squealed. "Kiss me, darling, kiss me."

  While we scuffled, Papa's voice rolled up the steps like thunder. "Stop the horseplay, boys, and go to sleep!"

  Scared to risk a whipping, Theo and I sprang apart and ran for our beds. Under my pillow, the hard lump of the marble bag reminded me I'd soon climb the attic steps. If I beat Andrew, I'd be safe from Edward, but I'd never see Hannah and Theo again. For the first time, I felt a pang of regret at the thought of returning to my own world.

  ***

  I needn't have worried. Although I won the first turn, my fourth shot went wide of its target. Aiming carefully, Andrew knocked out six before he missed.

  "I can't believe this," he said glumly. "If I keep getting worse and you keep improving, you may beat me after all."

  Holding my breath, I shot my aggie at one of the four marbles left. To win, I had to knock all of them out of the ring, not an easy feat. Thinking of rockets and TV's and computers and other things I couldn't remember the names of, I watched my shooter roll right past my first target.

  "My turn." Andrew picked up his bull's-eye and sent a cat's-eye spinning across the floor. He sighed and sat back on his heels. "That's seven. I win again."

  Too disappointed to speak, I watched Andrew tighten the knot on his bag of marbles. His face was calm, his fingers deft, his body relaxed. Raising his head, he looked at me. "Is tomorrow the day you meet Edward?"

  "You know perfectly well it is." Giving in to my temper, I leapt to my feet and kicked the remaining marbles so hard they scattered in all directions. "It's not fair. You should be jumping off that trestle, not me!"

  Andrew's eyes widened. "I told you, there's nothing to be scared of."

  "Prove it," I yelled. "Switch places with me—be yourself for just one day. If you jump, I'll do anything you want, I swear I will. I'll be you forever if I have to."

  Andrew backed away. "We made an agreement," he whispered, "a gentleman's agreement. It would be dishonorable to break it."

  "Twenty-four little hours," I begged, "that's all I'm asking."

  "I can't risk it."

  I stared at Andrew, shocked to see a tear run down his cheek. Wiping his face with his pajama sleeve, he said, "Don't you see? I don't dare jump. If I'm doomed to die in 1910, I'll drown in the river, I know I will."

  A gust of wind blew the candle out. In the sudden darkness, I heard Andrew run downstairs. By the time I reached the top of the steps, he was gone.

  Chapter 18

  The next morning, Hannah found me in the porch swing, rocking glumly back and forth.

  "I was waiting for you in the grove," she said. "Don't you want to play marbles?"

  I shook my head. What was the use? In a few hours, they'd be fishing my body out of the river. "Theo and I are going somewhere in a little while," I told her.

  She sank down beside me and fanned herself with an old Tip Top Weekly. "Whew. Only ten o'clock, and already it's as hot as an oven out here."

  I glanced at Hannah sitting there so innocently. It would break her heart to lose me, she'd said so herself. If I told her the truth, maybe she wouldn't be so sad when I drowned. She'd know her true brother was alive and well in another time.
<
br />   Clearing my throat to get her attention, I said, "I really am a different boy."

  Hannah took my confession as a joke. "At first you acted so strange I truly found myself wondering about you. But not anymore—every day you act more and more like your old self."

  "You don't understand," I said. "Let me finish—"

  Without giving me a chance to explain, Hannah got to her feet and headed toward the door. "No more jokes, Andrew. I have to help Mama with the canning." Hannah ran her hands through her hair, lifting its weight off the back of her neck. "Drat those peaches. Why can't they wait till cool weather to ripen?"

  The screen door slammed shut, leaving me with a mouthful of revelations. Not that it mattered—she wouldn't have believed me anyway. Picking up Tip Top Weekly, I fanned myself vigorously, but it didn't do a speck of good. The air was just as hot as ever.

  All too soon, Theo came looking for me. "It's after eleven. Time to go, Andrew."

  Reluctantly, I laid the magazine aside and followed him down the porch steps. Halfway across the lawn, Buster spotted us. When Theo saw him, he whistled and the dog dashed toward us, barking and wagging his tail, glad to be included on an outing. He actually nuzzled my hand and grinned at me. In a way it scared me more to see him getting so friendly. Who did he think I was?

  Before I plunged downhill behind Theo and the dog, I looked back at the house. Its windows sparkled like fire in the sunlight. Hannah waved from the back porch. As I raised my hand, the scene quivered. Andrew appeared in his sister's place. He gazed at me, his face solemn. "Good luck, Drew," he called.

  Ahead of me, Theo yelled, "Hurry, it's almost noon."

  Andrew vanished. The porch was empty. The dish towel Hannah had been holding hung on the railing, a bright splash of color.

  At the bottom of the hill, Theo waited impatiently. Nearby, Buster snuffled through the bushes, looking for rabbits. Crows cawed in the woods, jays scolded. Sunlight dappled the bushes and trees. I smelled honeysuckle and damp earth.

  Light-headed, I ran down the path, ducking branches, stumbling on roots, skidding on loose stones. I reached Theo's side, weak-kneed and gasping for breath.

  Theo stared at me. "You've got the oddest look on your face, Andrew."

  I forced myself to breathe normally. My heart slowed, my knees stopped shaking. "What do you mean?"

  He studied my features for a few seconds, concentrating so hard his forehead wrinkled. "You're just plain Andrew now," he said, "but a minute ago, when you came running down the hill, you looked different."

  As perplexed as Theo, I pressed my hands against the sides of my head and tried to keep my identity from slipping away. Was I Drew or Andrew? I wasn't sure anymore. His time and mine flickered back and forth like images in an optical illusion.

  Theo touched my arm. "Come on, Andrew. Edward will think we're not coming."

  Silently, I followed him down the path into the woods. The mossy ground was cool under my bare feet, but even in the dense green shade, the heat clung as close as a second skin. The air was heavy with humidity. Clouds of gnats circled my head. Mosquitoes whined in my ears and bit right through my clothes.

  We walked single file, slowly, silently, swatting insects and ducking low branches. Buster first, then Theo, then me. And Andrew — I looked over my shoulder, expecting to see him close behind, treading on my heels, merging his personality with mine, becoming part of me. I stumbled and tripped, bushes lashed my face, my head ached as if someone were drilling a hole through my temple.

  Suddenly, we were out of the woods. The trestle was just ahead, a high iron bridge spanning the river, at least twenty feet above the water. I couldn't imagine jumping from something that high and living to tell about it.

  "Come on, Andrew." Theo was already halfway up the embankment, looking back at me. Above him, Edward stood silently, arms folded across his chest, waiting for us.

  It was a steep climb, made treacherous by cinders, loose stones, and broken glass. By the time I reached the top, I was out of breath.

  "So you showed up after all," Edward said. "I didn't think you'd have the intestinal fortitude."

  I looked to the right and to the left. Shimmering in the heat, the tracks vanished into the woods on either side of the trestle. "What if a train comes?"

  "You know as well as I do there's only two a day," Edward said. "One in the morning and one in the evening."

  "That's right," I mumbled, "I forgot."

  Gripping my shoulder, Edward said, "Let's go. We're wasting time."

  Utterly fearless, Theo ran ahead, jumping from tie to tie as if he didn't notice the empty spaces between them. Buster followed a little more cautiously, head down, watching his step.

  Weak-kneed with terror, I stepped onto the trestle. There was no railing, nothing to keep me from falling. At any minute, I expected to slip between the ties and plunge into the river.

  In the middle, Edward leaned over and spit. "This is just about where Emmet Burden drowned. He landed on that rock."

  We all stared at the boulder just below the water's surface. Sparkling in the sunlight, the river swept over its broad back.

  "I was there when they found him," Edward said. "Have you ever seen a body that's been in the water for a week? The fish eat your eyes, they chew your nose off, they bite your fingers and toes and take chunks out of your skin. Emmet looked like swiss cheese."

  I gagged, but Theo said, "Andrew knows where to jump. Lester Jones showed him."

  "I've never been on this bridge," I said, but even as I spoke I wasn't sure. Doubts filled my head. Maybe Theo was right, maybe I'd just forgotten. Clenching my teeth, I swallowed hard. No, no, it was Andrew who'd been here before, not me. It was Andrew who'd said he'd jump, Andrew who should be here now. Not me, not me, not me.

  "What are you talking about?" Theo asked. "Don't you remember anything?"

  The river's dull roar filled my ears, my forehead pounded with heat, the sharp smell of creosote burned my nostrils. Afraid to sit, afraid to stand, afraid to move, I stared down at the water. Fate demanded a death. Mine or Andrew's—what difference did it make?

  "Well, what are you waiting for?"

  I looked at Edward. The sun was behind him, shining in my eyes. He was a dark shape blocking the light.

  "You little braggart," he said. "Lies, lies, lies—I knew you wouldn't jump."

  I backed away, but Edward came closer. "Show me how brave you are."

  He pushed me just hard enough to make me stagger.

  Under my feet, the railroad tie was hot, splintery, oozing tar, but I clung to it with my bare toes.

  "You're making a big mistake," I whispered. "I'm not Andrew, I'm Drew."

  The sound of the river drowned my words. Neither Theo nor Edward heard me.

  "Hit him," Theo yelled at me. "Knock him in the water!"

  "Stay out of this," Edward shouted.

  "Nyah, nyah, nyah—you can't get me!" Theo stuck out his tongue and danced away from his cousin.

  Red-faced with anger, Edward lunged at Theo. Maybe the sun was in his eyes, maybe he was too mad to be careful, but he lost his balance. Waving his arms wildly, he reached for me, missed, and fell off the trestle. Down, down, down he plummeted, his face turned up to us, his mouth open in a silent scream.

  The water closed over Edward so quickly it took a moment for me to realize he'd actually fallen. One second he was standing beside me. The next second he was gone. How had it happened so fast?

  Far below, the river slid past, its skin unbroken, so brown with mud I saw my shadow on its surface. What had Andrew and I done? We were the guilty ones, not Edward. He wasn't meant to die.

  Suddenly, Edward's head emerged from the water. He waved his arms, cried out, struggled against the current, sank again.

  "Edward can't swim worth shucks," Theo whispered. "If you don't help him, he'll drown for sure." Eyes blank with fear, he stared at me, waiting for me to act. I was his big brother, I knew everything, surely I wasn't going to stand b
y and let this happen.

  Dizzy with fear, I asked myself what Andrew would do. Stories from Tip Top Weekly flashed through my mind. Like his hero Frank Merriwell, Andrew wouldn't hesitate. No matter how much he detested his cousin, he'd jump into the river and save him.

  Well, I'd taken Andrew's place, hadn't I? I had no choice but to do what he'd do. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and leapt off the trestle.

  Chapter 19

  I fell through the air, faster and faster, and hit the water feet first. Down, down I plunged, straight to the mud at the bottom. The river was dark and cold. Strong currents tugged at my legs. The branches of a sunken tree snagged my shirt and held me with bony fingers. My heart pounded, my lungs ached. Kicking hard, I pulled free and swam up toward the light.

  When I surfaced, I saw Edward several yards away, bobbing along, still struggling. I swam toward him, but he sank before I reached him. Taking a deep breath, I dove after him, but the water was so murky I couldn't even see my own hand.

  I rose again. No sign of Edward this time. The river roared in my ears and foamed around me, smelling of decay. Too tired to fight it, I let the current carry me until I spotted Edward again. I floundered toward him and grabbed his shirt. Getting a good grip on his shoulder, I used the last of my strength to tow him to a tree trunk lodged between a couple of rocks.

  Exhausted, we clung to the branches. Above the noise of the water, I heard Edward gasping for breath. His lips were purple with cold, his face was dead white. Like me, he was shivering.

  From the trestle, Theo shouted, "I'm coming, Andrew. Wait right there!"

  "Don't jump!" I yelled. "Climb down the rocks."

  A snort from Edward drew my attention back to him. "Poor little Andrew—did you fall in the cold, cold water too?" His voice was loaded with sarcasm.