Shadows on the Sea Read online

Page 10


  “Oh … well, good-bye,” Elaine looked bewildered.

  “Good-bye,” Jill managed to say before shutting the door behind her. She peeked out the window and watched the three girls leave on their bicycles. “I hate them! They’re horrible!”

  “What happened?” Nana asked. “Weren’t you invited to join?”

  “Oh, sure I was. After all, I’m Drew Winters’s daughter.” Jill threw the invitation on the table. “They even want me to ride on their stupid float in the parade.”

  “What’s wrong, Jill?”

  “They blackballed Wendy! Just like I knew they would!” Jill paced the kitchen, angrily. “They didn’t even have the decency to face her. They put a letter under her door.”

  “How very mean!”

  Jill sank into a chair. “Wendy’s going to blame me.” Tears surged up in her eyes.

  “Do you want to ring her?” Nana asked.

  “And have her scream at me? No.”

  “Do you want me to talk to her aunt, er … mother?”

  “I don’t know. Adrie seemed to know this was going to happen. She warned us.”

  “What did you tell the girls from the Crystals?”

  “I didn’t say one word. I was too flustered. I should have thrown their invitation back in their faces.”

  “Oh, don’t bring trouble on yourself. They’re not worth it. Just don’t bother going to their meetings. They’ll get the message.” Nana shook her head. “I do feel badly for Wendy, though.”

  Jill went out to the porch and sat by the window. Had Wendy seen the envelope from the Crystals yet? Jill had promised to be a good friend, no matter what. And now Wendy thought Jill had betrayed her.

  A radio news program interrupted her thoughts. “Another merchant ship was torpedoed in the North Atlantic last night.” The rest was muffled as Nana quickly turned down the volume.

  Jill leaned back on the cushions of the window seat and closed her eyes. See no evil; hear no evil. But it was too late.

  Quarry arrived with his lunch after noon, and he and Jill ate outside on the picnic bench. Later, when Nana went down to the point to finish up her painting of the lighthouse, Jill said, “Let’s take the pigeon to the widow’s walk and release it now.”

  “What about the message?”

  “’d01 put it back on the bird’s leg. That way no one’ll know that it was intercepted.” Jill went up to her room to retrieve the capsule from a sock in her bureau drawer.

  While Quarry held the pigeon fast, Jill replaced the band on its leg. She gently set the bird in a covered picnic basket she found in the pantry, then they climbed up to the widow’s walk.

  It was warm on the lookout, with only a slight breeze dappling the sea. “Ifs a good day to fly,” Quarry said, adjusting a pair of binoculars. “I told my pa we were bird-watchin’.”

  They each looped the straps of their binoculars around their necks. Jill brought the basket to the railing. “Here we go,’ she said, opening the cover.

  The bird was huddled in the basket. Quarry held the container while Jill gathered the bird into her hands. “Fly home!” She tossed the pigeon into the air. It flapped its wings uncertainly, then landed on the railing. “Shoo!” Jill waved at the bird. It fluttered to another spot on the balustrade. “It doesn’t want to fly!”

  “It’s gettin’ its bearings/’ Quarry assured her. “Just wait.”

  The bird hopped hesitantly on the rail, then suddenly soared into the air. “There it goes!” Jill cried.

  The bird flew around the widow’s walk a few times, then began to fly in wider and wider circles. After a few moments it turned and headed northwest. Jill and Quarry watched through the binoculars as the pigeon flew directly to Clayton Bishop’s pigeon coop.

  Bad News from Europe

  “I knew it!” Jill whooped. “Clayton’s birds are carrier pigeons!”

  “He did sell squab to Adrie’s inn, though.”

  “That must be just a cover-up,” Jill insisted.

  “Okay, now that we know, shouldn’t we tell my pa or the sheriff or someone?”

  “We need more proof that he’s really helping the Germans.”

  “What more proof do you want, Jill?”

  “Quarry, we need to know who sent the bird. The bird and the message were sent to Clayton by someone else, right? That’s who we’ve got to locate now.”

  “Okay, Jill.” Quarry put up his hands in surrender. “And just how do we do that?”

  “I don’t know. WeVe got to be cautious about asking questions or telling anyone. Besides, Clayton might wonder why the bird was so late. He might suspect it’s been intercepted.”

  “Let’s get down from here,’ Quarry said nervously. “Clayton could be lookin’ up here right now and connectin’ the bird to us.”

  “You’re right. You fold the chairs and lay them flat so they can’t be seen. We’ve got to be real careful from now on.” As Jill picked up the picnic basket she remembered something. “Quarry, I saw Clayton Bishop heading to that path in the woods carrying a covered basket. I’ll bet he’s taking a bird to someone. That way, when the other person needs to send a message, he simply lets the bird fly it back to Clayton.”

  “There’s no one for miles around out there at Frenchman’s Cove.”

  “He’s taking something out there. I’m certain of that.”

  Once they were on the sunporch, Jill told Quarry about the Crystals blackballing Wendy.

  “I kinda thought that might happen. I told you they’re a bunch o’ snobs.”

  “Is there any reason Wendy might be barred—other than the fact she’s a summercater?” Jill watched his face carefully, wondering what he knew about Wendy’s family.

  “Well … there’s been rumors. I don’t want to repeat them.”

  “About Wendy?” Jill waited. Then she added, “And about Adrie?”

  “Well … yeah. I guess you know, then,” Quarry said, “about Adrie bein’ Wendy’s mom.”

  “Has Wendy heard this?”

  “I don’t think so. She hasn’t been up here very much—I think last summer was the first time she ever came without her folks and she was only here for a couple o’ weeks.”

  “Just long enough to be snubbed,” Jill said. At that moment the telephone rang and Jill ran to answer it.

  “Please let me speak to Elizabeth.” Ida Wilmar sounded upset. “I need her right away.”

  “Are you all right, Mrs. Wilmar?”

  “No, something terrible has happened. I must speak to Elizabeth at once.”

  “She’s out on the point, but I’ll go get her.”

  “No … tell her please to come over here quickly. Danke … Thank you.” She hung up.

  Jill raced out the back door and headed for the point. “Nana! Come quickly!”

  “What’s wrong?” Her grandmother stood up.

  “Ida needs you right away!” Jill panted as she met her grandmother on the lawn. “She said something terrible has happened. But she didn’t say what! You better go now.”

  Nana hurried to the car and drove down the driveway.

  “Can I help?” Quarry asked.

  “Let’s pick up Nana’s paints and things,” Jill said.

  After Quarry went home, Jill paced the floor, looking out the window every few moments. Several times she was tempted to ring Mrs. Wilmar’s house, then changed her mind. Nana knew she was worried and she’d call when she could.

  When the phone finally rang, Jill grabbed it.

  “Ida is coming home with me to spend the night. Would you throw something together for supper, honey? Anything will be fine. Maybe an omelet?”

  Jill pared potatoes and put them on to boil. She grated hard cheese from the cupboard and got out the eggs. She was setting the table when Nana pulled into the driveway.

  Nana and Ida came into the kitchen. They both looked grim and Jill didn’t dare to ask any questions.

  Nana glanced at the table and smiled at Jill. “Everything looks nice, dear
. Thank you.”

  “I’ll put the eggs on now,” said Jill. “Supper will be ready soon.” She could hear their voices as they went upstairs.

  Jill drained the potatoes and tossed in some oleomargarine. Then she poured beaten eggs into a sizzling pan and added the cheese. Mom had tried to teach her to make omelets by turning the pan gently and sliding a knife along the edges. Jill never could get the hang of it. The omelet would break and they’d both end up laughing. As she was thinking about it, this omelet broke too. Oh, never mind, Jill thought, scrambling it all together. She was putting the food onto the plates when Nana and Ida came downstairs.

  Before eating, Nana held Ida’s and Jill’s hands and offered the blessing. “Thank you, Lord, for this food and for our families. Please guard our loved ones wherever they are.” Jill could see a tear slip down Ida’s cheek and again she wondered what had happened that was so terrible. But they didn’t talk about it.

  After dinner they all went out to the sunporch. A cold breeze drifted through the open windows, so Nana shut them. Outside the stars were bright and the lighthouse across the channel sent its long rays over the water. Nana closed the darkening blinds, then turned on a table lamp. After helping Ida into a chaise longue, she covered her with an afghan. “You sit there and relax, dear,” she said gently. “Things will seem brighter in the morning.”

  Nana sat down next to Jill on the window seat. “Jill, Ida received a letter from Switzerland today. It took almost a month to get here. Her cousin managed to escape from Germany a few months ago and wrote to say that Ida’s husband was arrested last year and taken away to some kind of prison camp.”

  “Oscar, my husband, he is Jewish/’ Ida explained. “That madman, Adolf Hitler, is terrorizing Jews in Germany, taking their businesses and separating families, and Gott knows vat else.”

  “Why?” Jill asked.

  “Hitler is evil. He breeds hate and cruelty and everything that’s wicked.” Ida’s voice was full of contempt. “Ve’re hearing more and more about the terrible things he’s doing to the Jews—and to other groups of innocent people, too.”

  “Do you know where Mr. Wilmar is or how he is?”

  “Nein. My cousin says that people taken to such camps disappear forever.” She pulled a folded handkerchief from the sleeve of her sweater. “I vill never see my Oscar again. I know that now.” She wiped her eyes.

  Jill’s eyes filled with tears and she jumped up to throw her arms around Ida. “I wish I could help you,” she whispered. “I hate this war.”

  “You are a sweet child,” Ida murmured. “I tell you vhat. Vill you call me Tante Ida? May I be your aunt? I have no family anymore.’

  “Yes, you can be my aunt, Tante Ida,” Jill said, struggling not to cry. How could anyone in this town suspect Ida of sympathizing with the Nazis? How could Jill herself have ever thought anything so stupid?

  The Ring

  On Friday, Tante Ida and Nana combined some of their ration stamps, bought groceries, and spent the morning cooking. Jill helped to make Sonnenblumenbrot, a German sunflower bread, and Apfelkuchen, an apple cake. Tante Ida seemed to be feeling more relaxed.

  Jill took a deep breath and asked, “Tante Ida, can you tell me what the word sonnabend means? Is it a German word?”

  “Ja, it’s German. Sonnabend means ‘Saturday,’” Ida answered.

  But that’s not what Quarry had said. “Is there another word for Saturday?”

  “Ja, Samstag. But sonnabend means ‘Saturday night’—going towards Sunday. Why do you ask?”

  “Er … I heard you use the word when you were talking to Nana the other night.”

  “Oh, ja, that was vhen we were planning to get together on Saturday evening, instead of our usual Sunday evening.” Tante Ida smiled. “I sometimes fall back into German vhen I speak.”

  So Nana and Ida really were planning to change their regular meeting to Saturday. That was all right, then. Jill still wondered about their secret, though. And the pigeon’s message.

  While they were eating lunch at the picnic table, a boy rode up on a bicycle with a yellow envelope. Nana stood up right away, her face suddenly pale.

  “Mein Gott!” Ida whispered, thrusting her hand over her heart.

  Telegrams usually meant someone had died.

  “I have a telegram for Miss Jill Winters,” the messenger announced.

  “For Jill?” Nana asked.

  “That’s me,” said Jill. She opened the envelope with shaking hands.

  “What does it say?” Nana asked nervously, looking over Jill’s shoulder.

  “It’s from Mom!” Jill read it out loud:

  HAVE NON-PRIORITY RESERVATIONS ON CARIBOU TO NOVA SCOTIA. STOP. HOME NEXT WEEK. STOP. SEE YOU SOON. STOP. LOVE MOM.

  Jill waved the telegram in the air and did a little dance. “Yippee! Mom’s coming home next week!”

  “Wonderful! What a relief!” Nana exclaimed.

  “Wunderbar!” Tante Ida chimed in.

  “Tour dad may be finished with his tour around that time. I’ll be so relieved when our whole family is together again, safe and sound,” Nana said.

  Later in the afternoon, Jill received a telephone call from Elaine. “Hi! Just wanted to remind you to get down to the town hall early tomorrow morning so you can ride on the float with us.”

  “I told you I can’t make it,” Jill said. “I have other plans.”

  There was long pause. Then Elaine said, “Well, if you change your mind, come down.”

  “Thank you,” said Jill, hanging up.

  Jill thought about Wendy again. She hadn’t heard from her since they went to the Crystals’ tea. Was she still mad? Would she be going to the clambake? Did she know that Quarry was going with Jill?

  “I’m going to ride over to Wendy’s,” she told Nana. “I don’t know if she’ll even talk to me, but I’ve decided to face her anyway.”

  “Good luck, honey,” Nana said.

  Clayton’s car was in the driveway as Jill rode by his house. She pedaled slowly but saw no sign of him.

  Jill passed Guy Binette’s store and stopped to see Quarry. “I’m going over to Wendy’s, but I’m sure I won’t be there long. Are you coming to my house this afternoon? We can ride together when I head back.”

  “I can’t, Jill. I have to work all day today. Guy is stocking up on things for the holiday weekend.”

  “Ida Wilmar spent the night with us. Quarry, it’s so sad. She just heard that her husband was arrested by the Nazis. She doesn’t think shell ever see him again.” Jill paused. “She’s certainly not a Nazi sympathizer.”

  “Don’t rule her out yet,” Quarry said. “Not until we know who sent the bird. You said that yourself.”

  “I know, but I’m pretty sure it’s not her. I asked Tante Ida what Sonnabend means and she told me. It means Saturday evening. She came right out and told me.”

  “Tante Ida?”

  “She asked me if she could be my aunt.”

  Jill was about to leave when Quarry said, “I’ll come over to your house about noontime tomorrow and we can ride to the clambake together.”

  “Okay, Quarry.”

  Jill rode up the sidewalk to the Tearoom Inn, parked her bike, then hesitated. Did she really want to see Wendy? After all, Wendy was the one who should be apologizing. Still, it was a pretty mean thing the Crystals had done and Jill needed Wendy to know she had no part in it.

  She walked up the steps and although the door to the lobby was open, Jill rang the bell and waited.

  Adrie came to the door. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Jill. “Just what do you want?”

  Jill bit her lip. “I was hoping to see Wendy.”

  “Well, she doesn’t want to see you!” Adrie towered in the doorway. Jill recalled Quarry’s description of her. Icebound.

  “I feel terrible about what the Crystals did. I—I want Wendy to know that,” Jill stammered.

  “You’re responsible for all this, Jill. You’re the one who caused all this t
rouble for Wendy.” Adrie turned and disappeared into the other room as Wendy approached the open door.

  “What is it, Jill?” Wendy said in a flat tone.

  “I haven’t heard from you and I …” Jill waited, but Wendy said nothing. “I … felt really awful after you walked away on Tuesday night, and I was hoping …”

  “Hoping what? That we’d still be friends?”

  “Yes,” Jill answered. “I’m not joining the Crystals, Wendy. I think they’re rude and cruel. I never wanted to join in the first place. You wanted me to try to get us both in. Remember?”

  “I remember.” Wendy’s mouth was a tight line. “And I remember that Quarry was a good friend of mine too, before you came along. I know he invited you to the clambake.”

  “How did you find out about that?”

  “It doesn’t matter where I heard it. What did you tell Quarry about me?”

  “Nothing! Wendy, you and I and Quarry are good friends. Remember my promise? I promised to be a good friend no matter what and I meant it.” Jill fought back tears and swallowed hard to keep her voice from breaking. “I just wanted to tell you that I still am your friend. If you want me to be, that is.”

  Wendy’s eyes flashed with icy anger. “I don’t care whether you or Quarry want to be my friends, Jill.” She shrugged. “I told Aunt Adrie all about you and the Crystals and what happened on Tuesday. We had a long talk. You know what? Aunt Adrie and I don’t need you or anyone else in this town. We’re just fine, my aunt and I. In fact, I’ve never felt better.”

  It was as if Wendy were someone else altogether. The change was total. Icebound.

  “Well, if you change your mind, give me a buzz,” Jill said. She waited for a response, but none came.

  Wendy shut the door with a click, but not before Jill saw something shining on Wendy’s finger. The pigeon-blood ruby ring!

  If Wendy and Adrie had talked, then surely she must finally know Adrie’s secret. That must be why Adrie had given her daughter her ruby ring.

  Wendy had wished Adrie was her mother. Now her wish had come true. Maybe she felt she belonged to someone at last. Maybe she wouldn’t need to make up fantastic stories to get attention. Anyway, Jill had done what she needed to do—to offer her friendship. If Wendy didn’t need it or want it—well, there was nothing Jill could do about that.