 
Faith's Treasure

By

Katherine Kendall

Smashwords Edition

*****

Published By:

Katherine Kendall on Smashwords

Faith's Treasure

Copyright 2012 by Katherine Kendall

Cover design by Megan Kendall

Cover illustration by © Chorazin - Fotolia.com

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Your support and respect for the property of this author is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and used factiously.

*****

Many thanks to my dear niece Leah and the time she took to read and edit this book. Thank you to my daughter Megan, my son Max, and my husband Ross who listened to me read this book over vacation car trips, provided support, and shared comments. Thank you to the folks at Kalmbach Memorial Park in Macungie, Pennsylvania, and all the work they have done to preserve the grounds and the house of my memory that serves as an inspiration for this book.

This book is dedicated to my daughter Megan Kendall. I love you and I never will stop.

*****

FAITH'S TREASURE

### Chapter 1

When the moving van took off down the street, it stripped the leaves off one of the low hanging branches. I watched the leaves whirl anxiously through the air in the van's wake and unattached, fall to the ground. I felt my stomach lurch and I said to myself, Faith Ann Heart, you are just like those leaves. In fact I could feel them swirling in my own stomach. I turned back into the house and followed my mom around the hollow rooms and listened to her voice bounce off the empty walls.

"I've gotten so used to looking at this stuff, I don't see it anymore." Mom unscrewed the hand-painted outlet cover that my brother Sonny made last year in the hospital when he caught pneumonia and scared us all. "Oh, now I don't have a cover for the switch. I can't leave it like that." She screwed it back on. She had a bag of forgotten memories on her arm: an old paper Christmas ornament that had slipped off the tree and fallen behind the baseboard that showed a photo of me holding a good behavior award when I was in preschool, a metal fondue fork from our set used for melting chocolate and dipping bananas during our Friday night home movies, a lackluster clay pot Sonny made his first year at summer day camp where he made his first real friends, and who knows what else she held in that bag because it hurt my heart to look too closely. "But I really want to keep it." She screwed it back off.

"It's time to go," my father called from the front door. He looked worn out and it was only noon. His dark hair stuck out all over from raking his fingers through it. It looked like he combed it with an electric mixer. My hair was tightly braided and red like my mom's. She had braided it for me this morning. "Where is Sonny, Faith?"

I went to go look for Sonny. I found him in our backyard peeking out the window of our tree house. "Please, come, Sonny." He shook his head at me and I knew I would have to clamber up the rope ladder and get him. I pretended to hit my head on the door jam when I walked in because I had tears on my face and it would scare Sonny to see them and not understand why. "This little house of ours has shrunk. That really hurt. It's okay, Sonny," I told him. It didn't fool him though. He looked scared anyway, so I said, "I'll take care of you."

Sonny used the hand signal for pick me up. He has Down syndrome and it's hard to talk when you have Down syndrome. I picked him up on my back and carried him to the car that Mom and Dad packed with overnight bags. "Are you okay, honey?" Mom asked me.

My long legs felt barely able to hold me up so I handed my brother over to my dad. "I'm sad and excited at the same time." Sad was definitely in the lead over excited.

All four of us stood in a big hug on the front lawn. My heart was so heavy I could barely breathe. Dad said a prayer. I don't even know what he prayed because I was looking at our mailbox that read Dr. and Mrs. Heart and I couldn't help wondering what would happen to it. We got in the car and that's when I let loose. I cried longer than I can ever remember and no one tried to stop me. I cried intermittently through Atlanta, North Georgia, and even into Tennessee.

We drove all day until we reached a place called Bristol, Virginia where Dad had made a reservation at a roadside hotel where we could stay for the night. "Can we go for a swim?" The hotel's pool water shimmered with streaks of gold from the setting sun.

"It does look inviting," Mom said. "It'll do them good to work off some energy. Then we can go get something to eat."

Mom could talk Dad into almost any plan. As soon as he got the key to our room, we put our bathing suits on and jumped into the pool. Sonny climbed out of the pool just so he could jump back in, his favorite thing to do. "Daunga," he yelled—whatever that meant, and jumped into Mom's arms. Then he got out and did the same thing to Dad, except Dad wasn't ready. Sonny vanished beneath the surface. He bobbed back up and began paddling happily in the water.

"Sonny! You can swim," I yelled as he headed for me. I gave him a big hug. Sad as I was, I felt happy for him. "You really can!" Then I turned him in Dad's direction and gave him a push. He swam to Dad like a water wind up toy.

"I guess all those lessons finally sunk in, no pun intended," Dad laughed. "Da, Da," he said. Dad picked him up, hugged him and set him off in Mom's direction.

"Are we gonna play this for the next year and a half?" I asked Sonny after he had made the rounds a dozen times. "I'm hungry." Across the street was a Southern-style, all-you-can-eat restaurant that smelled delicious. I imagined fried chicken, biscuits dripping with honey, and sweet tea poured into fruit jars.

"Me too," Dad agreed, nodding at the restaurant where I was looking. All four of us charged into the motel and changed our clothes. At the restaurant we filled our plates with food. They served just what I thought: fried chicken, biscuits, grits, greens, beans, corn on the cob, potato salad, apple pie, chocolate cake, cheese cake, ice cream and apple sauce—the only thing I didn't like. Amazingly, I tried as hard as I could to eat. I felt hungry but my mouth and stomach turned at the taste of the food. I pushed my plate away. "This has been the saddest day of my life," I realized.

"Things always look their worst at the end of the day when we're tired," Dad said. None of us made much progress on the plates of food in front of us except for Sonny. He ate with gusto.

"Nothing ever worries you for long, does it Sonny?" I told him more than asked. "All he cares about is that we're near."

"He has a special blessing," Dad explained, always able to see the good. "You are right; he just cares about us being together. We could learn a lot about trust from him."

Back at the hotel we settled in for the night. I cuddled with Sonny and let the soft murmur of my parents' voices just outside our room lull me to sleep. I drifted in and out until I opened my eyes for the last time and saw Mom's shoulder length red hair flared over the white pillow on the other bed beside mine, Dad's arm draped protectively around her waist. The world seemed to have grown so small, as small as this room, I thought, and then I fell into a deep sleep and did not wake again until morning.

*

The second day of our trip to the new house a golden red sun rose over the horizon as big as I had ever seen. I know God is not the sun but the rays and warmth of it felt like God holding me. I really hoped I could cheer up a little today. I remembered a Bible verse my Sunday school teacher, Miss Burke, told me: God's power can be clearly seen from what has been made. I said, "I'll never see Miss Burke again."

"I didn't know you even liked her very much," my mom said.

"I didn't but she was smart about God, and I'll miss that." It seemed like every time I thought about something, it was just another ending that I would miss.

We decided to go to the Waffle House for breakfast. "Two sunnies over easy and two scrambled with pigs," our waitress yelled. 'With pigs' meant with sausage. The air smelled thick with the scent of fried food. Pellets of oily steam rolled down the shiny metal back splash behind the fryer. Sonny balled his hands into fists and pounded the table. He screamed in hunger and frustration.

"Sh-h-h," Mom and I burst into giggles. I reached over and held Sonny's hand. Mom made the hand sign for wait. Sonny hung his head, "It's not that bad," I said to him.

Finally the waitress set the food on the table and Dad said a prayer. Sonny peeked up at me and smiled. This time, we all ate. I guess a good night's rest always helps.

We bought packed lunches at the Waffle House and climbed into the car for a long day's ride. Dad told us we weren't stopping until we got to our new house. "It's a big house," he said, trying to help me and Sonny picture it. We had seen some pictures of it. It was listed in the national historic registry. It was built more than 150 years ago. "We can convert that barn into a painter's studio, Helen." My mother painted pictures. We had her pictures hanging up in our old house.

"There's a creek running in the backyard that's been dammed up for a nice little swimming hole, and there's a stone patio with a fountain." Dad looked at me in the rear view mirror and smiled. He knew I'd like that. Then he turned to Mom again, "Remember the kitchen, Helen? It is huge, with a fireplace in it."

I hadn't thought about it but with Dad trying to encourage both of us, I realized that Mom was a little sad to leave, too. That's why Dad was telling her about the studio and the big kitchen. For some reason, this realization made me feel better. Kind of like when they say, 'misery loves company.' It just made me feel better to know that being sad about moving was not so unusual.

"A fireplace in the kitchen?" I never heard of that.

"Just think how cozy it will be at Christmas time," Dad said. "Upstairs the bedrooms are all connected. No hallways, just like in the olden days. There are windows everywhere and lots of doors and little rooms where you wouldn't expect any to be."

"We have to walk through the kids' rooms to get to ours." Mom told me. She had seen the house a few a weeks ago. She flew up and helped Dad buy it.

"We might want to renovate all that in a few years." Dad sounded more excited than sad. "There are four fireplaces, one in each bedroom and a large one in the den that's actually the same as the one in the kitchen, but you see it from the other side."

"So, if there's a fire in the den fireplace, you can see it in the kitchen, too?" I asked, thinking of Christmas. "How will Santa know which one to jump down?" I whispered to Sonny.

"Sana!" Sonny kicked his heels.

"Right, huh, Sonny?" I said. "Maybe Santa will get lost with all those fireplaces and give us twice the presents."

After lunch I fell asleep. When I woke up, the sun fell low in the sky. We'd driven most of the day just as Dad said we would, stopping only for bathroom breaks. "What is the name of the place we are going?" I could not remember the name of the little town in Pennsylvania.

"Lacawalla," my dad said. "It's an American Indian name. It means bear swamp."

I tugged nervously at my braid. "I hope we aren't going to be living in a swamp."

"I'm sure the swamp has dried up, Faith," Mom said.

"Yes, quite a while ago. They built a dam about fifty miles north up the Lacawalla River, and the river bed is now a park in the middle of the town. The Lacawalla River is a branch of the Susquehanna River, and it used to go right through the city. Now the Lacawalla Power and Light Company uses the dammed water to make electricity."

"Miss Allen told me there are Amish people in Pennsylvania, and they don't use electricity. She said they live old-fashioned lives and wear hats and bonnets. She said they don't even use zippers." My old social studies teacher told me all of this when I told her where I was moving.

"That's right although most of them live further west than where we're going. Sometimes they travel to Philadelphia to sell what they make and grow and they travel through our town. They don't drive cars. They use horse and buggies instead."

"I'd love to live like that," I replied.

My mom laughed. She had a sweet laugh that always made her face light up. "Oh, I don't think so. You wouldn't be able to watch TV or talk to your friends over the phone. No movies, either. Hm-m-m on second thought, how does one join the Amish? It might be good for you!"

"Ah, never mind, Mom."

"The Amish live simply, trusting God to take care of them. It's just their way of giving glory to Him. I think it's a wonderful way to live and I admire them a lot, but I'm not sure being a heart surgeon would qualify me as an Amish person."

"We can give glory to God by saying 'yes' to this move and doing our best to get along in our new lives," Mom turned around to look at me.

"It's pretty scary that God just picked us up and moved us with a snap of his fingers." The move had fallen into place quickly. One day Dad told us he had another job and the next week our house sold. A month later Dad bought a new house and here we were, driving there.

"I guess God seems pretty demanding to you," Mom sympathized. She knew how I felt. We had talked about it before.

"I don't like the idea of making new friends. What if no one wants to hang around me?" The thought of it made me angry. I'd left many friends in Atlanta.

"I can't imagine that would happen," Mom said, my biggest fan. I loved my mom and my dad but at the same time I felt angry with them for moving us. They had taken everything familiar away from me and left me dependent on them. Now, when I wanted to feel independent instead I felt dependent. I resented that, but how could I explain what I felt to them? I didn't understand it myself. All they wanted was for me to obey them and follow along, be their good girl like always. I didn't want to be their good girl anymore and that scared me. I wanted them to hurt like I hurt even though I could tell Mom was sad to leave. All these feelings swirled up in me and I thought of the leaves again that I'd seen yesterday. Something stirred in me and I knew it was not all good. Some of it was angry. Some of it was sad, but most of it was terrified.

"Dr. Smith has a daughter your age that will be going to the same school. You'll meet people through her," Dad reminded me. Dr. Smith headed the staff in the hospital where my father would be working. He had visited us in Atlanta. The hospital needed my dad because there were so few heart surgeons in the area and my dad could perform other surgeries as well. Dad felt excited about the move and thought of it as a calling to serve God's people—those were his own words. Knowing that God was calling him only made it worse for me. I could be angry with my parents but how could I be angry with God? I turned to look out the window. I didn't want to meet anyone, least of all some friends of my parents' kids. At that moment I wish he would turn the car around and drive back, forget about our new life, and get back to our old one.

I felt a warm touch on my knee and turned to see my mother's outstretched hand. "God has plans for you. He has good plans, not ones that will hurt you. He'll give you a good future."

I smiled limply because my mom could be so sincere, "I hope you're right."

"I'm sure he does," my dad added. "Whenever God makes plans, he involves everyone. God loves you, and I'll bet there's some very important job he has in mind for you."

"You do?" I asked, never imagining that God had some job for me. "How will I know?"

"Oh, you'll know," Dad assured me. "When God wants you to do something, he makes sure you know it."

"But I'm just a kid."

"Mary was only a year or two older when God called her to be the mother of our Lord," Mom remarked.

"Wow, I hope God doesn't ask me to do that!"

"I think that job is taken," Dad laughed, "but don't be surprised when you start getting the nudge."

"What's that?" I hoped we weren't heading into a birds and the bees talk.

"That's what your father calls God's Holy Spirit moving you to do something you know is right even though it may be very hard to do."

"Oh! I hope I do get the nudge," I said, certain I would succeed. Even though I was angry, the thought of doing something special for God made me happy. I looked across to Sonny who smiled at me.

Four years ago Mom and Dad brought Sonny home with them. He had been a big surprise to me and I knew right away God 'nudged' me to accept him as my little brother. My parents adopted him as a special needs baby. I felt jealous at first, but God blessed me every day with Sonny. Would this move be a blessing to me too? I could not imagine the move being anything more than hardship on me, but the new house sounded really wonderful. If God was going to give me something important to do, well maybe it won't be that bad after all. I hoped not. I reached over and held Sonny's hand.

"It won't be long now," Dad said with a new tone in his voice. I looked out the window and saw the sign as we took our exit, "Exit 8 Lacawalla 1 mile".

***

Discussion Questions: Why does Faith's mother tell her that God has plans for us, ones that will not hurt us? Do you believe that is true? Look up Jeremiah 11:29 in your Bible. Do you think Faith's mother understands how Faith is feeling? Have you ever felt happy and sad or frightened and excited at the same time? If you were her friend, what other scripture might you offer to Faith to help her through this tough time?

### Chapter 2

"This is the place." Dad turned off the winding country road and onto a gravel drive, startling a doe and her fawn. I scrambled out of my seatbelt and jumped into the front seat next to Mom. I peered out the windshield into the dim light. "Someone left the outside lights on for us." I could hear the excitement in his voice at the distant glow of lights. At a bend in the road the house came into view.

"It's a castle." I jumped out of the car when we came to a stop.

I ran up the walk lined with tall red salvia flowers that looked like red-coated soldiers. I counted four chimneys made of stone. It looked like a castle. I ran around to the back of the house and found a pond banked with the same type of stones as the house. A black angel stood in the middle of the pond pouring water out of her jar onto green oxidized lily pads. I could hear her laughing voice in the trickling water. "Streams of Living Water," was neatly carved in Roman script on the edge of the alcove. "She is Sophia the Pond Princess," I said to Sonny who ran up to me. Beside the pond a wooden swing rocked gently back and forth in a sudden evening breeze. The lamp beside it flickered, startling a mother rabbit with two young ones that grazed where the light cast only a dim shadow. She and her family noiselessly disappeared under the stone wall that bordered the property.

I felt an unseen and loving presence. I took a deep breath of fragrant air. An early evening shower must have released the smells of the forest crowding the stone wall. Sonny walked up to me and slipped his hand in mine. His face reflected the same awe and wonder I felt.

I love this place, I thought.

The damp grass bent beneath our feet and marked a trail as Sonny and I chased each other around the pond. He followed me up to the front doors. Dad showed me an old-fashioned skeleton key about four inches long. "It looks like the key to a dungeon," I said. His eyes sparkled when he turned the key and the lock clicked open. The heavy wooden doors creaked on their hinges. At once I smelled the oily scent of furniture polish. Inside, Dad fumbled in the dark for the light switch.

"Found it," the entryway lights washed us in brilliant light.

"Who are they?" My mom asked looking at our reflections in a wall of mirrors.

"Four travel-worn people by the looks of them," Dad said. We all had wrinkled clothing and disheveled hair. I had to laugh.

"Ugh, we'll have to get rid of those mirrors," Mom decided on the spot. "Look at the floor. Is that marble? And the carved wood paneling! My goodness, it is so elegant!" Below the mirrors, my mother stroked the beautifully carved vines. In the dining room I found the same paneling carved in forest scenes of huge trees, meadows, ponds, and caves.

"How did you find this house, Dad?"

Dad heaved a sigh of relief to hear the awe in my voice. I could see that he and Mom loved the house. "It found me," my dad admitted. "Mrs. Milner, who owned the house, heard about my move up here and offered it for sale."

My mother wandered into the kitchen, "I can't believe how exquisite it is." I followed her into the kitchen and looked into the family room through the fireplace. The fireplace was the size of a walk-in closet. "You could roast a whole pig in that fireplace," Mom joked.

"The fireplace is made of the same fieldstone as the outside of the house. And look at these caved wooden mantles," my dad noted. "And in there," he pointed through the fireplace to the family room, "there's a pegged wood floor." That meant that wooden pegs kept the floor in place instead of metal nails.

"I wonder why there's so much wood in the house. Everywhere I look, on the floors, on the walls, the stairs, all of the molding, the cabinetry, everywhere is wood!" My mother turned in circles like she was trying to take it all in.

"I feel like we're in a tree house!" I exclaimed.

"This house has a very interesting history," Dad explained as we traipsed a circle through the family room, the dining room, the kitchen, several various odd rooms and hallways, and then found ourselves back in the foyer. "The man who built it owned a lumberyard. That's why there's so much wood. Let me show you one very interesting thing about this house." He pointed to an unlikely square strip of floorboards, "You see here? Those ends should be staggered. It shouldn't look like that. It's a trap door built into the floor. Some people believe it was for hiding runaway slaves from Africa. This house could be part of the old Underground Railroad that slaves used to escape to freedom."

"I remember my teacher telling us about the Underground Railroad," I said.

Dad explained anyway. Mom called him the Explanator because he was so good at explaining things. "The Underground Railroad was not a real railroad, just a path people followed from the South to the North. It was made up of houses and landmarks where slaves hid. House by house, the slaves traveled in secret until they reached the North and freedom. It took them months of travel on foot or by boat at night. During the day, they stayed in houses like ours where people promised to hide them and give them a good meal. All of these houses put together and the landmarks the slaves followed were known as the Underground Railroad. Back in the 1800s, before the Civil War, hundreds of slaves escaped using the Underground Railroad."

"Our new house is a real part of American history," I thought this was important.

"Not only that but Miss Milner told me that according to an old legend, there's a secret passageway somewhere leading to a treasure." Dad winked at me.

"A treasure! Let's find it," I cried.

"Others have looked for it but no one's ever found it. Miss Milner gave up trying but she still believes it lays hidden somewhere in this house." Dad sounded very mysterious.

"Can we look? Can we look right now?" I just knew it was under the trap door.

"Not right now," Dad asserted, "but you can look all you want tomorrow."

"Whose treasure was it?" I wondered.

"It belonged to Captain Milner. He's the one who built the house," Dad explained. "He made quite a bit of money. People think he used it to help slaves buy their freedom. I wouldn't be surprised if the local library had some information about him."

"Can we go tomorrow?" I asked Mom.

"Do you hear that, Dr. Heart?" my mother teased. "Our daughter is begging to go to the library."

"I want to dig up the floor first." I admitted, pointing to the odd square of flooring.

"People have already looked there, honey," Dad informed me. "In fact, Miss Milner had that room filled with dirt and boarded up. If the treasure is around at all, then it must be somewhere else."

"What do you mean 'around at all'? I thought you said there was one."

"I said there was a legend about a treasure, and legends can be true, or not true, or only partly true," he noted.

I groaned. "I'm sure there's a treasure and I'm going to find it."

Dad smiled at me and pointed up the stairs. "Time for bed."

"Tomorrow," I said to him. "I'm going to find it tomorrow."

Mom grabbed a suitcase filled with linens and headed up the steps behind me.

I found the upstairs very plain compared to downstairs. The paneling throughout contained no carvings and the molding looked common, but my room had a window dormer with a beautiful tree just outside. We dressed for bed while Mom and Dad threw some sheets on our cots. Dad had rented beds for us through the real estate agent until our own furniture arrived and had them set up in my room. My parents kissed us goodnight and went into their room to make their own beds. "Goodnight," they whispered.

"Goodnight," I answered, listening to their retreating footsteps. "This is a quiet house," I said to Sonny who looked asleep already. I remembered the hollow sound of my old house after the movers left and the loud, troubled thoughts that filled my mind since then. Now I felt calm and my anxious thoughts abated. "This house soaks up all my worries," I thought pleasantly before I fell asleep.

***

Discussion Questions: What is the difference between an event in the past that is described as history and one that is described as a legend? Do you think the events described in the Bible are historical or legends? Look up 2 Timothy 3:16. How important are the events in the Bible? How are we supposed to use scripture?

### Chapter 3

A ray of sunlight peeked through the bottom of the window shade and nudged me awake. My bedside clock read 8:12. In my old house an earlier sun came through my window, but here, the sun came late. Sonny rolled over in his sleep. "I guess we're all going to be late sleepers in this house," I whispered in his ear. I took a deep breath of the house air mixed with secret forest smells wafting in on the breeze from the open window.

Across the room two small doors led into storage and closet space. Even the floors of the closets were made of wood, as were the walls. I could see all sorts of designs in the wood grain. That could be scary. I could conjure faces of monsters and goblins if I'm not careful. I scooted my feet into the slippers by my bed and grabbed my robe. I could hear someone downstairs.

"Good morning Glory," my mother held a cup of coffee. I spotted donuts.

"Hi," I hugged her. "When do you want to start looking?"

"For what?"

"The treasure, of course." Gosh, how could she forget? "The sooner we find it, the sooner we'll be rich."

"You, Daddy, and Sonny make me rich."

"Where is Dad?"

"Your father left early to go into the hospital and get acquainted with the folks at his new job. He'll be back soon, though, since there's a lot to do right here. Our furniture and other stuff will arrive this morning in the van. Won't that be exciting?"

"I think the treasure is exciting," I answered, bringing the conversation back to where I wanted it. "When do you want to hunt? How about after I finish this donut?"

"Okay maybe," Mom relented, making it clear that this was not a priority for her. "We'll have to wait for Sonny to get up, though, and I just want to warn you that I'm not going to be pulling up any floorboards."

"I think we should start in the basement. Wait, is there a basement?"

"Old houses like this always have a basement. I hope there's lots of old stuff that would be fun to find. In a way that's hunting for treasure."

I 'm not sure what 'in a way' meant, but at least Mom was willing. Now, I just had to wait for Sonny to wake up. He could sleep well into the morning. Maybe he could use a little help. I stuffed the rest of the donut in my mouth and gulped down my milk. "I'm going to get dressed," I said innocently and ran back up to my room.

I shook him lightly at first and then a little harder. "For goodness sakes, Sonny, wake up! We want to go treasure hunting." He opened his eyes. "Time to get up."

"Hunie capa," Sonny said.

"Hun-gry cat-er-pil-lar," I annunciated each syllable the way Mom taught me. It was important to correct his pronunciation, gently, so he would learn to speak properly and other people would understand him. We played it like a game.

"Ca-a-pil-ar," he repeated.

"Good. Now, get up." I lifted him into a sitting position to make sure he didn't fall asleep again. "I'm going to get dressed. You go down and get some hungry caterpillar food. Mommy has donuts for you."

I knew the word donuts would get him out of bed. He shrieked with delight but then stood at the door looking at me. "What?"

Sonny shrugged with his hands in the air.

"You don't know the way, do you?" I rushed to pull on my T-shirt and shorts. "Come on, I'll show you."

Sonny crawled backwards down the stairs on all fours since his balance could be tricky. Mom stood at the bottom of steps looking up at me. "Isn't it lucky that he didn't sleep in?" she asked me.

"I think he wants to go treasure hunting," I replied sheepishly.

Sonny munched on a couple of donuts while Mom and I put away the milk and wiped the counters. Finally, we were ready to look for the treasure. Mom thought the door right off the kitchen would lead to the basement, but it didn't. It led to a mud room with another door that led to the outside. "I think I'll put the washer and dryer in here."

We tried every door to every room on the first floor. My mother stood with her hands on her hips. "This is ridiculous."

"Look what I found." A little door led to a hallway between the dining room and the kitchen.

"This must be the hallway where the cook could bring food into the dining room without running into any of the guests," Mom said.

"It's a secret passageway. If the house has one secret passageway, it must have more." Sonny and I ran back and forth through the secret corridor.

"Or I could use it as a storage space for card tables and chairs." Practical Mom.

"Let's look for more secret passages. I bet that's where the treasure is."

"That's a great idea, Faith." We forgot about finding the basement and headed for the second floor.

On the second floor we found another funny little door inside the closet in the master bedroom. I pulled with all the strength I could muster, Sonny pulling on me to double the weight. "It won't open."

"It looks nailed shut," Mom got a flashlight and shined it through the cracks. "Let's get the wonder bar." My mother loved tools. She had her own toolbox which, luckily, she packed in the car and not in the van. The Wonder bar is a prying tool. She wedged it through the opening and pried the door loose from the nails.

"Look, Mommy, steps!" I ran forward but Mom grabbed my arm.

"Wait! I don't like the look of those steps." Pulling me back, my mom spotted a small lantern on the floor inside the stairwell. "Look at this antique! I told you there were treasures to be found."

With mother distracted, I managed to regain my position inside the stairwell. "It's all stone. What could be wrong?" The stairs were indestructible as far as I could see. An elephant could climb them. I took a few steps up. The stairwell rounded a corner. "I can see daylight!"

"This is creepy," Mom said.

"It's not creepy when you know there's going to be treasure at the end," I rounded the last curve and saw that the daylight was only shining through the crack of another door.

"Stand aside," Mom got the wonder bar. "I can open this one, too."

The door would not budge. Several times Mom pried so hard with the wonder bar that she chipped off part of the door itself. When we saw a metal bar at the top of the door, we realized what was holding it shut. We slid the bar out of the lock and the door opened easily. "It's frightening to think what the human race would do with just a tad more intelligence," Mom reflected as she stepped out onto the tiny little patio. I peeked behind her since the patio itself was too small for more than one person.

"Wow! I can see for miles," Mom said and traded places with me so I could see. I used a seat built into the back wall as a stepping stone. The seat was actually part of a fireplace on that side of the house.

"It's a glorious view."

"But no treasure," I noted.

"Except for the view, that is a sort of treasure." My mom smiled.

I looked at my feet. "I don't care about that kind of treasure."

"Treasure is where your heart is." She patted my back.

"So your heart is up here at the view?" I pushed my glasses back up my nose so I could see her better. "I don't understand."

"My heart is with the Lord Jesus Christ. He is my treasure. I know he will give me good things in life when I at least try to follow his teachings." She squeezed in the seat beside me. "So, of course, I expect good things everywhere like finding the lantern and finding this beautiful view. The Lord gives me good things when I make him the treasure of my heart."

"Oh, I see now." With Mom, everything was about Jesus Christ. You could start with a question about Peter Pan and she'd find a way to bring it around to Jesus. "So what do you think this place is?"

Mom looked around at the small patio. "I don't know, maybe an access way to the roof and chimneys?"

I nodded. I tried to shake off my discouragement. I thought we'd have found the treasure by now. Mom cheered me on, "There's got to be a basement. If they took the time to build a way to reach the roof, they must've built a basement." Her eyes lit up. "I know. I'll bet the door to the basement is outside. Since this is an old house that would make sense." Jumping up, she continued, "You and Sonny go look, but be careful. I'll be out in a minute. I want to phone Daddy. Those movers should have been here by now." We could see all the way to the main road into town and no movers were on it.

I followed Mom down the stairs and headed outside. I led Sonny around the perimeter of the house half a dozen times before I gave up and sat down by the pond statue. "Let's wait for Mom," I told Sonny. "If the door to the basement is on the outside, it's nowhere where I can find it." I sat quietly.

Although the sound was not very loud or clear, I thought I heard someone crying. "Is that you?" I asked Sonny who was playing with the water in the pond.

Sonny looked at me and smiled. I still heard the soft wailing sound. I strained my ears. Maybe if I moved away from the fountain, I'd hear better, I thought, and I walked to a quiet corner of the yard.

It worked—either that or the crying grew louder. It is definitely crying, sobbing even, and the sound is coming from up the road. I decided I couldn't leave Sonny, so I waited for Mom. When Mom finally came out of the house I called to her, "Mommy. I hear someone crying. Can you hear it?"

Mom stood perfectly still and listened. "My goodness, yes," she answered. "Someone's crying hard. Let's go look and make sure everything's okay. I think your father said there was another house over this way."

"Come on, Sonny," I called to my brother.

We walked up the road toward the sound and found a house up the hill. It stood in a field of weeds behind a strip of forest, briars, and thistle. It looked like it could fall over at any moment, its weather beaten walls leaning inward. An old coat of flaking white paint fell like snow over piles of broken roof tiles on the ground. "Could anybody really live there?" I asked.

My mother nodded sadly; concern furrowed her brow.

We walked up the dirt road alongside the strip of forest and into the yard. I spotted a weather vane impaled in the dirt, an upside-down cupid pointing her arrow at me. "I don't think anyone does live here," I lied. "We probably shouldn't go any further."

"I know," my mother agreed, "but I'm afraid someone may be hurt."

Moving closer I noticed a rocking chair on the porch with a shawl draped over it, a basket of knitting by the door, and a bucket with the mop still sticking out of it. We cut off the road toward the house when a man dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt stormed out of the front door.

"Quick," Mom whispered. She grabbed Sonny and me by the hand and ducked into the woods. The man looked very angry. We crouched behind the bushes and watched him jump into an old, beat-up red pickup truck parked in the weeds by the other side of the house. He slammed the truck door shut and gunned the engine. We watched the truck race down the uneven dirt road, belching a cloud of smoke as it passed us. "That would've run us right over."

Cautiously, we crept out of the bushes. A scruffy-looking boy opened the door to the house and looked out. He saw us immediately.

"Who's he?" I asked Mom. "Is he the one who was crying?"

"I don't think so." Mom stepped forward but the boy darted back into the house and slammed the door.

"That was rude," I remarked.

"I think we should go up and make sure everything's okay," Mom said.

"Why do you think that man was so angry?" I asked her.

"That's a good question," Mom answered. "Maybe someone's hurt and he's going to get help. Maybe we shouldn't have hidden."

"But he looked mean," I said.

Mom agreed. I heard her mumble a prayer as we approached the house. We stepped up to the porch and knocked on the door. I could hear muffled moaning. "I'm Mrs. Heart," my mom yelled. "I just moved in next door. Is everything all right? I heard someone crying." Stubbornly, mom knocked again. I saw her hands were shaking. "I'm a nurse. Please let me help."

I nearly fainted when the door opened a crack. Sonny jumped and scrambled behind Mom. The same boy peeked out. Tall and tough-looking, he said politely enough, "We're fine, Ma'am." His face looked streaked with dirt and tears. My fear subsided and I felt sorry for him. He looked at me and scowled. Then he moved back to shut the door.

"Wait! Can't we help you?" I asked. I could hear the concern in my own voice.

"No one can help us," he choked. "Go away, now. Go! Go!" He slammed the door.

"What in the world?" my Mom said. This is as close as my mom ever came to cursing. She rapped on the door much louder and harder. This time, no one would answer. She knocked repeatedly, but the boy did not answer. Finally she turned to me, "I can't force my way in."

We turned helplessly around and walked back home. Mom was right; you can't help someone who doesn't want help. What would it be like living next door to a family like that? The boy who told us no one could help him looked my own age. I wondered what troubled him, who was the man who had coming barreling out of the house and driven off in a temper, and why when the boy spoke rudely to me did I still have the feeling he was glad we'd come? The sight of his eyes filled with pain haunted me and I turned to the only one I knew that could help, my own Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I knew He could work miracles. He could turn any bad situation into something with good in it. I knew He heard all my prayers so I prayed that somehow we could help the boy. I remembered Dad said God had something important for me to do; maybe this was it.

***

Discussion Questions: While Faith and her mom explore the house, Mrs. Heart finds several things that delight her while Faith is constantly disappointed by what they find. How does Mrs. Heart explain her source of joy? Look up Matthew 6:19-22.

### Chapter 4

"It's the van." Mom took off down the road. "They're here!" We heard the truck before we saw it.

"She's as excited about the moving van as I am about finding treasure," I said to Sonny, watching my mom meet the van as it pulled into view.

When we caught up with her, we saw a man that looked a foot taller than and three times as wide as my mom, hand her a clipboard and tell her to check off the numbers as he called them. Each item unloaded from the truck had a number on it. The clipboard contained a list of all of our belongings, each with a number and a description—a box, a chair, or whatever, making everything numbered and accounted for as he brought it into the house. Once he carried a whole sofa on his back. I gapped at him. When he came back out he smiled at me. "This is some beautiful house," he said. "I never seen such pretty paneling as in your dining room."

I ran after him, "I know. It's forest scenes. And in the lobby's vines." The paneling stood out as something particularly special about the house. I tried to squeeze by mom and follow the movers into the house, but she grabbed my arm and shook her head. She didn't want me going into the house.

"Go keep an eye on Sonny," my mom ordered, struggling to keep up with the numbers called. There were several men unloading.

I took Sonny's hand and sat on the porch to watch. We sat in wonder at all the commotion, watching our old furniture disappear into our new house. I jumped up in the air when I saw my own bed and dresser. "Yahoo," I shouted and marched around the Pond Princess, "Hip, hip, hup." Sonny marched behind me. I did some cartwheels and pirouettes I learned in ballet. We marched around the pond about ten times, and then I led Sonny in a march past the front of the house. I turned the corner and instantly I spotted the basement door. Sonny crashed into my legs.

The door lay horizontal to the ground partially hidden with dirt and grass. With much pulling and tugging, I opened it a crack, just enough to peek down into the darkness. It had steep steps leading down to another regular door that I could barely make out in the dark shadows.

"We're not going down there alone," I told Sonny. "We'll have to wait for Mom or Dad, maybe after the movers are gone."

At dinnertime the movers finally finished up and Dad came home. "I couldn't get away," he explained sheepishly to Mom who looked frazzled. Every room in the house was stuffed with boxes. Mom had marked the intended room on the furniture and boxes when we packed.

"This is incredibly organized, Helen."

"I read a book on how to move," she shrugged off the compliment.

"And I have a basket of homemade chicken, mashed potatoes and an apple pie from Mrs. Knowles," Dad lifted the basket up in his hands to show us. "Dr. Knowles showed me all over the hospital today and introduced me to the staff."

We ate outside on the porch chairs the movers brought. Grabbing a chicken leg, I said, "I like eating with my fingers." No one felt like unpacking the utensils.

"In some countries, people eat from the same bowl by carefully dipping their fingers into it as they eat together," Dr. Heart noted, as he set the bowl of mashed potatoes in the center of the table. Sonny put his hand in it and scooped up a pile of potatoes before anyone could stop him.

"Or, we could just let Sonny eat all the potatoes," I giggled.

"I'll just hold onto this," laughed Mom grabbing the apple pie.

After we finished I told them the big news, "We found the basement door." I took Mom and Dad's hands and pulled them out of their chairs. They followed along readily enough.

"I don't know how we missed it," Mom said.

"Let's go down before it gets too dark." Dad said.

"Okay!" I grabbed the door handle to help Dad.

"Wait, we need a flashlight," he warned.

My mom showed her packing talents when she led us into the house, walked directly to one of a hundred boxes and pulled out a flashlight. "You're magic, Mom," I said, seeing again how exhausted she looked. Sympathetically I remarked, "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

"And miss finding the treasure? Not on your life."

"Then you really think it's down there?" I asked.

"Of course I do. I put great stock in legends. And, even if it isn't there, it's fun to look. Come on, let's go!"

Armed with a flashlight, my family headed for the basement. Dad grabbed hold of the handle and pulled it until the door broke loose of the dirt and grass and fell flat on the other side. A musty smell assaulted our noses and black beetles scurried for cover.

"Now I'll bet that door down there is locked," Dad noted as he walked down the cement steps, grimacing with such distaste at the bugs that I had to laugh. Sure enough, the door wouldn't open. Dad pulled a large ring of keys out of his pocked marked, "Milner House."

"Let's try this one," he chose the longest key I've ever seen, longer even than the front door key. It had a round circle on the top and a couple of notches at the end. "This is called a skeleton key," he explained, "because it opens all the old locks in the house. We'll have to get our outside locks changed. These are too easy to break in to."

"We should bolt this door," My mom said of the one we'd just opened. "I don't like the idea of the kids playing down here."

"You're probably right," Dad said, winking at me. He slid the long key into the old door and jiggled it until we all heard the 'click' of the lock release. The door wouldn't budge. "It's sealed shut from years of being closed," Dad explained, but he finally managed to open it.

More musty air escaped and Sonny sneezed about seven times in a row. The room was very small. A single bulb hung from the ceiling. "Let's see if this works," said Dad, pulling on the string. The dim light shed only a shadow to the corners.

"I don't see much," Dad reported, shining his flashlight on a long slide that ran from the window to the floor. "Ah, there's the old coal chute. Half a century ago, most of the houses around here used coal to heat their homes. Before winter started, a big truck would come by and dump a load of coal down through that window into this chute and it would land in that bin. They lit that big furnace over there, and somebody would have to come down here once or twice a day all winter long and shovel coal into the furnace so the house would stay warm. They used the fireplaces too. My grandmother's house was heated with coal, and I remember that it always had a funny smell and left everything covered in a fine black dust."

"That's probably why they dusted every day back then," laughed Mom. "I'll take electric heat any day."

"Why didn't they use electric heat?" I wondered.

"Hadn't invented it yet. You have to think it up before you can use it. Then, at first, it was just too expensive. Someday, Faith, you'll tell your grandchildren how you used old-fashioned electric heat and how expensive it was. They'll be using electricity made from cold fusion or something, and they'll have all sorts of stuff that we don't have."

"Like what?" Dad thought up stuff that amazed me.

"We'll have outside air conditioning, or ice rinks in the middle of summer. There'll be moving sidewalks everywhere and gadgets that do lots of neat stuff. Maybe even belts that you strap around your waist so you can fly. Who knows, with cold fusion, electricity will be everywhere and dirt cheap."

"Do you really think it'll be like that?" I could hardly wait to grow old.

Dad smiled and hugged me. "I think it'll be even better than that, better than we can imagine."

"Wow...cold fusion. What does that even mean?" I asked.

"It's a safe way of splitting the atom—it generates energy that we can turn into electricity. Of course, there are many different ways to produce electricity. There's solar power, water power, wind power, geothermal power, and nuclear power. Right now, nuclear power is the cheapest, but cold fusion would be practically free with no toxic waste. At least, I think so. No one's done it yet."

"Is that something we should pray for?"

"I sure do," smiled Dad.

"Daddy I'm going to be a scientist when I grow up and discover how to make cold fusion happen."

"Well, now, that would be just like God to answer my prayers and bless my daughter and me at the same time."

Dad directed the flashlight into all of the corners. Nothing. The basement looked clean, bare, and dry. "Treasure enough in the springtime," he said of the dryness.

I groaned.

Mom picked up the old coal bucket that stood by the antique furnace. "Cute flower pot."

"Everyone's finding treasure but me," I said.

"I don't see much down here, honey." Dad picked up Sonny and ruffled his hair. "No doubt the treasure is hidden someplace else."

"But you do think there's a treasure, don't you?"

"You bet I do." He reached up and pulled the string to turn off the light. I slid my hand through his arm and we left the basement.

Dusk settled over the backyard. The sunset streaked the sky purple and red. "There's treasure everywhere if you value the right things," Dad whispered. "Look how God has colored the sky for no other reason than to give you pleasure."

I looked at the ribbons of color in the sky. The sun sank behind the hill. I knew for certain that there was a real treasure and that I would find it, that God knew where to look, and that He would lead me there. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed, Please, God, help me find it.

When I opened my eyes, the small shadow of the neighbor boy I had met earlier that day passed along the horizon and stopped. Maybe if I found the treasure I would share it with him so he could fix up his house. I couldn't fathom a situation where no one could help. I held up my hand and waved to him, but he turned away and walked on without acknowledging my greeting. Sonny must have seen him do this because he reached up and slipped his hand in mine. Sonny knew what it was like to be ignored.

***

Discussion Questions: Dr. Heart prays for someone to discover cold fusion because he believes it will change the world for the better. What do you believe will change the world for the better? Do you pray for it? Look up Ephesians 6:18.

### Chapter 5

I forgot I moved. When I woke up I thought I was in Atlanta where I used to live until I saw the old oak tree outside my dormer window and the fireplace. It did not make me sad to see the tree or to remember that we moved, and I began to think about what I'd do right now if I were still in Atlanta. When I thought of my friends grew sad. I quickly changed my thoughts because I did not want to be sad. Instead, I thought of Sonny sleeping in his own room in his junior bed with the guardrails on the side. I padded across my room and opened his door. His chest rose and fell rhythmically with each breath, a sure sign of deep sleep. I hopped over the guardrail and lay beside him, tickling his face with my hair. He opened his eyes and smiled at me. "If you say, 'hungry caterpillar' I'll go nuts."

"Hungry caterpillar," he smiled.

I scratched my side and hooted like a monkey to make him laugh.

After we laughed and were silent awhile, I asked Sonny, "Why did the boy say no one can help us?"

Sonny shrugged. He made the sign for scared.

I nodded. "I wonder if he has a mother. Was she the one who was crying? Was that man who stormed off like that his father? What could be so bad for them, you know? Why does he think no one can help them? I wonder what is wrong up there or if they are in some kind of trouble."

Sonny's brow furrowed. I pushed the wrinkles back in and he smiled at me.

"Will we ever see that boy again?"

Sonny nodded. His stomach growled.

"I smell coffee," I told him because that meant Mom and Dad were up.

"Ma-ma," Sonny scrambled over me jabbing me in the side as he jumped over the guardrail.

"You don't know where you are going," I said. I watched him head out the door to my room. "Or, I guess you do."

My mom stood at the bottom of the steps. "What will it be today kids, eggs? French toast? Pancakes?"

"Are there any donuts left?"

Sonny back-ended it down the steps, ran into the kitchen, and skipped around the counter island.

"You need something a little more nutritious than donuts this morning. We have a big day ahead of us. One of your father's partners at the hospital has invited us to church and then to lunch at their house. They have a daughter just your age and they live in town. She wants to show you around."

"Great," I thought the summer would be pretty lonely but maybe this girl would change all that. "I forgot that it's Sunday. What is she like?"

"I don't know but if she's anything like her parents I'm sure she's very nice." She said to Sonny, "How about French toast?"

"Friend toes," Sonny repeated.

"Yeah, Mom, let's fry up some friends toes for breakfast." Mom had the griddle all ready. She turned to Sonny and went into her annunciation routine with him, winking at my joke. After breakfast I put on a dress and packed some shorts and a shirt for later. I waited on the porch for the Smiths.

A large black car rolled into the driveway at exactly nine o'clock. A girl with long blond hair peeked out the window and waved to me. "I'm Judy," she yelled.

"You must be Faith," Judy's father shook my hand.

"It's very nice to meet you," I said as politely as I could. "Thank you for inviting us to church." I shook Mrs. Smith's hand too.

"I'm Judy," the girl said again. "I've been waiting years for you to come. Well, maybe not years but a long time. Ever since my father first told me you were moving here into the old Milner house." Judy said 'the old Milner house' as familiarly as if it were her own name. I wondered if people would start calling it the old Heart house. "I was so glad someone my age was moving in."

I hopped into the car beside her when the adults got in. "This is a Lexus," Judy explained. "It cost about fifty thousand dollars."

"It's very luxurious," answered my mother who hates bragging of any kind.

"It's very comfortable, too," I said, stretching my legs.

"I bought it to drive VIPs like your dad around," laughed Dr. Smith. The car drove over our bumpy stone driveway as smoothly as if it were paved.

I listened politely to Judy chattering on about anything that crossed her mind but I didn't pay attention. I liked looking out at the town. We passed the library which I thought might be within walking distance. It was certainly near enough to ride my bike. Downtown Lacawalla looked small. On Main Street we passed a gift shop, a couple of clothing stores, a restaurant, a hot dog stand, a small grocery store, an ice cream shop, a pharmacy, a bakery, and a hardware store. There were other places, too, including several other churches. Judy's father drove left off the Main Street onto a road made of brick. On either side were buildings standing straight up off a narrow sidewalk. "They had to knock down a few buildings just to get a parking lot in," explained Dr. Smith. "This part of town is over 200 years old. Can you guess what these are, Faith?" Dr. Smith pointed to a brick post with a large metal ring at the top.

"Is it for closing off the road?" I guessed.

"Close. It's an old fashioned hitching post where people used to tie up their horses."

"I love horses. I could ride one. Do people do that here?"

"Now, that's a stupid question," Judy interjected. "People ride horses everywhere." She changed the subject without warning, "Our church is as old as the town. We used to be the Evangelical Association but we eventually joined the United Methodists. Now we are Lacawalla First United Methodist Church. I'm in the youth choir already because I am so good at music. Next year I can join the youth group." Chatter, chatter, chatter.

The field stone building curved around the street like the thumb of a glove. Suddenly the bells tolled and I jumped a foot out of my shoes. We all laughed. "Good gracious," my mother said when the bells finally stopped. "I'll have a headache all day."

"The sound reverberates off these walls. It has no place to go," explained Dr. Smith.

"I can't fit it all in," I said. "The building is so tall and there's no room to stand back and look at it."

"We'll go out front after church so you can see it. It's right on Main Street. This is just the side of it." He led us through a stone archway into a courtyard. "Most people that settled this area were Pennsylvania Dutch. You've heard of William Penn, haven't you?"

I shook my head. The name sounded familiar but I couldn't place it.

"You never heard of William Penn?" asked Judy incredulously, laughing at my apparent lack of knowledge. "What did you study in school?"

What a brat, I thought. I really didn't like Judy. I wanted to tell her how mean she was being and how she better quit or I would let her have it, but I knew Mom and Dad would not approve. I shrugged my shoulders and looked away.

"She studied Georgia history, Judy," my mom stood up for me, putting her arm around me. "William Penn is a figure in the history of Pennsylvania. Each state studies its own history."

"That's right," Dr. Smith put his arm around his own child. "Now why don't you two hurry up to Sunday school while we grown ups go to our own class."

In horror, I looked at my mom and shook my head but she didn't seem to notice. Judy grabbed my hand as Mom kissed my cheek and my fate was sealed. I shrugged. I guess I didn't want my parents thinking I wasn't old enough to take care of myself. After all, I'm not a baby, I thought. I waved goodbye to Sonny who had furrowed his brow at me and I knew that he at least understood.

"Let's not go to Sunday school," said Judy as soon as she was out of hearing range of the adults.

"You must be kidding," I thought she was.

"No, we can sneak down to the kitchen and get some cookies. The old folks have their Sunday school class down there and they always bring cookies."

"I am not sneaking around anywhere and I am not stealing cookies from old people." I had my principles.

"Oh, it's not really stealing," Judy looked hurt that I would even accuse her of these things. "The old folks want you to have their cookies. And besides, lots of times I don't go to Sunday school. My folks don't care."

"All right," I relented knowing this was often true of old people and cookies, and her parents did seem to let her get away with a lot. Maybe I was being a little hard on Judy. "I am a little hungry."

Judy knew her way around the church. The hallways were narrow and made of stone, even on the inside. Instead of lights on the ceiling, the lights were on the walls. There were some strips of lights along the floors. "I feel like I'm walking through a castle on Mars."

We turned into a more modern part of the church. The kitchen looked new, and so did the room beside it where the elderly people sat. I walked right into the kitchen, both hands at the ready to take some cookies before Judy grabbed me, nearly jerking my arm out of my socket. "Ow!"

"Sh-h-h. They'll hear you."

"Well, let go of my arm," I said angrily. Judy's grasp felt like a vise. She was stronger than she looked. I would do well to remember that.

Judy dropped her hold on me. "I was only protecting you. They can see through that other doorway. You were about to get caught."

"I thought you said they wanted us to have their cookies."

"Don't be stupid," Judy said. "You have to sneak quietly along the table and then you have to let me know when no one's looking so I can get up and grab some."

I stared at her incredulously. I heard the class begin to sing, "Leaning, leaning. Leaning on the Everlasting Arms..."

"I bet they are leaning," said Judy, "leaning because they're so old, they're probably leaning over."

That seemed very funny to me and I started laughing. Judy put her hand over my mouth to keep me from laughing aloud. "And their arms are everlasting, their whole bodies are everlasting. They've been lasting so long it seems they're everlasting."

I laughed so hard I could not talk.

"Sh-h-h," Judy doubled over with laughter. "Watch, is anyone looking?"

I could only shake my head. Judy grabbed not just a few cookies but a whole package of Oreos. "You must be out of your mind," I said. "They're going to notice that."

"So what," Judy ran out of the kitchen before I could stop her. I ran after her, back down the hall, skidding to a stop at the elevator. Judy had stuffed the Oreos down the front of her dress and crossed her arms to hold them in place. "Hurry, hurry, hurry," she pleaded with the elevator and looked so terrified I almost started laughing again. She saw me smiling, "If this elevator doesn't get here soon, we're bound to get caught."

"What if someone is on the elevator when it stops?"

"There won't be. Only the old people use the elevator and they are all in Sunday school. Everyone's in Sunday school," said Judy and just then the elevator rolled open and there sat a regal looking woman in a wheelchair. "Hello Mrs. Wainwright," Judy said sounding very guilty, her face dark red.

"Hello, Judy. Come on in girls," she hurried us, eying Judy's midriff so intensely I thought she would stick her finger out and poke her, but she just said, "Who's your friend?"

Judy stammered, her face flushed with fear, "Ah, this is, um. What's your name again?"

"Faith Heart, Ma'am. Nice to meet you," my good manners kicking in automatically. I shook the woman's hand. "I just moved here."

"Well, it's a pleasure to have you with us this morning." She turned to Judy's midriff, "And you too, Judy. Are you both off to Sunday school?"

"Yes we are," Judy lied.

"I guess we're all getting a late start today," smiled Mrs. Wainwright as the elevator reached the third floor. She turned her chair and wheeled out of the elevator, leaving us wondering if we'd been caught or not.

Judy jumped out, turning in the opposite direction from Mrs. Wainwright. "Come on, I know just where to hide."

I followed her to a small doorway with a sign that said DO NOT ENTER which of course, Judy opened without a second thought. We went up a small flight of steps. "We'll go up to the attic," she explained.

In the attic we stumbled around trying to find the switch which only gave a dim light when we turned it on. Desks, computers, lampshades, old pictures, vases, trunks, and boxes lined the walls. The contents labeled each box, just like my mom had marked ours. Only these had words like 'Crismon Decorations', 'Eucharist Vessels', 'Atonement Robes', and other totally unfamiliar things. We stepped over two long bamboo poles and Judy huddled down next to an air vent where a stream of cool air breezed through the stuffy room. "I wish I had taken some milk," said Judy ripping open the cookies and stuffing them in her mouth.

I squeezed in beside her and ate some cookies. "I wish you had too," I said after a while. "I feel stuffed. We must've eaten twenty cookies already."

"There's only about ten left. We probably ate more than that."

"Golly, look at this stuff," I said. My eyes had adjusted to the dark. Now I could make out lots of stuff like theater backdrops, wigs, a barber's pole, some fishing gear, and other props. I got up and looked at a rack of gowns at one end of the room with plastic gold crowns on the shelf above. I saw an old well someone had built with plastic vines woven on the sides that even had a bucket and a rope with a lever. There was the loveliest white bridge that I just had to walk across. I donned a gown and a crown. "Look at me! I'm a princess," I shouted.

"Try that blond wig over there, Faith." Judy put on a beautiful red haired wig. "How do I look?"

"You look like me," I laughed, putting on the blond one.

"And you look like me. Except you have a black mouth full of cookie crumbs." She ran back and forth over the bridge. The sugar from the cookies made us full of energy.

"Oh, look over there. I see a castle."

"That's supposed to be the church," Judy explained. "We used it for a play about our church's history. Here, try on these wings."

I pulled the golden wings on. The white feathers had been dipped in gold paint and inlaid in rows to make the wings beautiful. They looked handmade. "Look at me, I can fly," I said, flapping my wings as I jumped off the bridge and crashed into the box marked Eucharist Vessels. The box fell to the floor making a terrible sound like broken glass.

"What was that?" Judy suddenly asked. "Did you hear all that laughing?"

"It came from that vent," I said, trying to lift the box back up and stack it with the others. "I think I might have broken something."

"You aren't very good at flying. You probably ate too many of the old folks cookies, you couldn't get off the ground."

"There it is again, laughing from that vent." I said, feeling a horrible dread rise up in me.

Just then the door to the attic creaked open. We froze. I heard Judy gasp when a man entered. "Judy?" he asked. Apparently he couldn't see us. He squinted in each direction.

"Yes, Reverend James." Judy answered guiltily.

Surprised she had given us away, I watched her step forward into the light.

Reverend James put his finger to his mouth to shush us. He pointed to the vent and mouthed the words, the service already started and they can hear you. Quietly, we followed him out of the attic and into his office. I took off the gown, the wings, the wig, and the crown and sat shamefaced in front of my parents. When my parents asked about the crash, Revered James explained I had broken all of the Eucharist cups for the Christmas wine, including the goblet and bread plate. My father hastily took out his check book.

We all scrambled back into the $50,000 car. Mrs. Smith yelled, "You irresponsible child. We can't trust you for a minute. We turn our backs and there you are up to no good again." On and on she yelled. Judy cried. Mrs. Smith made her apologize several times.

My dad said nothing to me. "I think we'll skip lunch today," my mom said.

"Now look what you've done, Judy. You ruined everything," Mrs. Smith began again.

Judy burst into a fresh set of tears.

"We're awfully sorry," said Dr. Smith. "I guess we're all a little upset."

I got out of the car and ran up to my room. I felt sick from all the cookies and I just wanted to lie down and forget everything. I stumbled into the bathroom and looked at my face in the mirror. Black chocolate Oreo crumbs still lined my mouth. "It's all Judy's fault," I yelled. My stomach reeled and I hurled into the toilet. Exhausted, I dragged myself back to my room and fell into bed.

I slept for a long time until I heard a knock at my door. I pulled the covers over my head. I must've slept all day since it had grown dark in my room. I heard the knock again and Dad said, "Can I come in?"

I opened the door and let my dad in. He scooped me up in his arms and held me tightly in a big bear hug. I felt so ashamed. He should have punished me and then I realized he still might. "What are you doing up here?" he asked.

"I fell asleep and then, right before that, I got sick in the bathroom."

"Oh," he nodded in his best physician's persona. "Well, now, I think you should come down for dinner, anyway. Are you hungry?"

"Very."

"I want to tell you something very important first."

I gulped the words back that flew into my mouth, words like 'it wasn't my fault', and 'she made me do it'. I knew they were excuses. Instead, I said, "I made a big, fat mistake," and I nearly burst into tears until I saw my dad was laughing.

"You know," he began, "I came to this town thinking I could do more good in a small town than I could in a large one. I'm able to do numerous types of operations and I'm what many have described as 'gifted' in that area. Do you know what that means?"

I nodded. "It means you can do something easily because you just kind of have a knack for it."

"That's right. Some would say that God gives different gifts to different people so that they can work together to do God's good in the world. You don't have to believe in God to have a gift. God is very generous. And, so, I thought to myself, if I am gifted then I should use my gift to its best advantage and in a way that will help as many people as possible. I'd like to do that Faith. I really would."

"Because of God?"

"Definitely. And what does God want us all to do?"

"Help people?" I ventured.

"That's right, Faith. And, I'm thinking now that I never really told you how I felt about this big move and why we made it."

"Well, I know you always do the right thing, Daddy." Not like me.

"No, not always."

"But you always try."

"As often as I can make myself, I try to do the right thing. But that doesn't mean that I'm always right. I could be very wrong even if I'm trying. I could have really messed things up moving here. I could be making a big, fat, mistake, but you would forgive me, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, yes, Daddy."

My dad looked straight at me and said, "I just don't think I could stand it if the people I love didn't forgive me and let me make a mistake once in a while."

I fell into his arms and put my face in his neck so he wouldn't see my tears of relief. "I'll always forgive you, Daddy."

"And I'll always forgive you, too."

***

Discussion Questions: It is important to make friends but not everyone we meet will be a true friend. What are some of the incidents with Judy that reveal she may not be a true friend? Dr. Heart forgives his daughter and helps her to forgive herself. The Smiths react differently to Judy. What happens in a family when there is no forgiveness? Look up Matthew 18:21-22.

### Chapter 6

"I won't get scared," I squared my shoulders. "I want to take a walk in the woods anyway. I found a path and the coolest place yesterday."

My mother stood at the door holding Sonny's hand, ready to leave me alone in the new house for the first time though I had stayed home alone in our old house before. "Okay, but remember that I won't be far and you can walk over to Mrs. Shaffer's house if you get scared. She's just across the street." Mrs. Shaffer had a son a little younger than Sonny and they were going to visit for awhile. "And be careful not to go anywhere that isn't close by. I get a little worried that you might get lost out there in the woods."

The family in the dilapidated house owned the woods. I'd heard my mom and dad talking about it, and I knew my dad was asking other people about our neighbors. I also knew my mom worried about the angry man she'd seen storming out of the boy's house, but he had not come back as far as I could tell. His red truck hadn't returned. "I'll be fine. I'll stay close," I promised.

I left right after she did. I climbed up a path behind our house that led to a stream littered with boulders the size of living room chairs. I hopped from one to the next going up stream until I saw an orange salamander. "How cute are you?" I asked, trying to grab it. It slipped right out of my hands and scurried into the water. I chased it as far as I could but then I lost it. Looking around, I saw another path that lead further into the woods. I remembered that my mom wanted me to stay close. I headed up the new path thinking I would not go far. I heard the hurried steps of small animals running for cover as I encroached on their territory.

Blue paint on the trunks of the trees marked the path and I knew enough about hiking to follow the markings, though the path itself looked clear and easy to follow without them. It led to a clearing on a hill where I saw a large granite wall and patio. A carved portrait of Captain Milner carved into the face of the stone looked soberly over the hill at my neighbor's house. The captain had piercing eyes, a beard, and a thin line for a mouth. Cigarette butts littered the shrine, making dirty black smudges on the speckled gray floor. I threw the butts into a trash barrel nearby and found a bushy pine branch to sweep up the ashes. I looked at Captain Milner, "I hope we're friends now. Maybe you can show me where you hid that treasure." Stone cannot talk but I did notice some cryptic writing on the wall below his portrait.

I caught sight of another blue marking across the path and to the right and I followed it. The way turned steep and treacherous. My legs and arms tired as I grabbed at tree limbs to help hoist myself upwards. Stopping to catch my breath, I looked down behind me at the nearly vertical drop I'd climbed. It scared me to think I'd have to come back down this way.

The path ended high on a plateau that overlooked Lacawalla. The view stretched for miles. I walked over to the edge of a large slab of rock that jutted off a cliff. I could even see the dam my dad described on our car ride. The dam had diverted the course of the river but I could still make out the dried up riverbed running through the town as a city park with a bike path and benches. Cars the size of ants drove up and down the streets. Dotted throughout the valley were white-steeple churches, their crosses pointing the way to heaven.

Seeing the churches reminded me of how Dad had not even scolded me or punished me at all for sneaking up to the church attic and he paid for the box of communion glasses I broke. Mrs. Burke said Jesus paid for our sins so we would not be punished, and all God wanted was for us to love him, just like my own earthly father. God seemed awfully close to me right now. I imagined God's angels hovering over this small town and I wondered if God saw the world from high above like I did now.

I sat in the quiet peace of the summer morning, looking at the town in the distance, and thinking about God, when I heard a soft, whimpering sound. At first it seemed it might only be the wind whistling through the trees, but I heard an urgency in the sound that made me want to listen more closely. It seemed to be coming from below the slab of rock where I sat. Then it stopped. "Hello? Who are you?" I waited a moment and then asked again, "Hello?" The whimpering began again even louder. I laid flat against the rock and hung my head over the edge to hear better. "Hello? Hello?"

The whimpering turned into a howl. My goodness, I thought, it's a wild animal, maybe a fox or a wolf. Do foxes howl? I wasn't sure. It sounded so loud and pitiful I thought I should really check on it and help it. I saw a small clearing just beneath me. I grabbed a nearby tree and shimmied down, steeling myself against the fear of falling down the steep drop beyond.

I landed in the entrance to a cave that lay beneath the stone ledge. Down here, the trees blocked the view. "Hello?" I called. A yellow dog shyly wagging its tail made its way over to me. "Why, you cute little fellow." I found a dog. I hugged it. His fur felt as soft and silky as a milkweed. His pink tongue licked my cheek a dozen times before I pulled away to get a better look. Tall and lean, he looked like he still had some puppy left in him. "How in the world did you get up here?" I asked him.

I sat down to play with him. He tumbled over my feet and nipped at my toes. "No," I said, not liking the feel of his sharp teeth and the dog backed off into a sitting position, his tail wagging wildly behind him. "My, you are a good dog and so easy to train."

I stepped into the small cave to get a better look at it. There appeared to be some light shining through one of the far corners. I explored the small area in a short time and found no escape for the dog. The dog would never jump off the ledge. I knew I would not take the chance of climbing down that precipice. Looking up at the way I came, I realized I would have to shimmy back up the tree and then make a daring jump onto the ledge of the cliff. With this thought, my heart sank. It hadn't been hard jumping from the cliff to the tree, but going back up and jumping from the tree to the cliff made my palms sweat and my heart beat wildly in fright at just the thought of it.

I realized I could not leave, either.

"Help," I cried as loudly as I could. "Help, help, help!" My voice grew husky and sore. I sat down in the cave and cried. The dog crawled over and sat in my lap, licking my salty tears.

About an hour later the dog got up and started howling in front of the crack in the far corner where the light shinned through. He sniffed and dug at it as if he knew our predicament. Amazed by his intelligence, I asked, "What are you trying to tell me, pup?" The dog turned and cocked his head at me, then started howling again.

I walked over and saw that a boulder filled an opening in the wall of the cave. "Are you telling me that we can get out of here?" I asked the pup who wagged his tail wildly and bowed his head. Encouraged by the dog, I tried to roll the boulder backwards, thinking I might free us. The boulder only rocked an inch and then rocked back. I tried pushing it to the side but something stood in the way. If I could find a stick, I might be able to lever it out of place. Looking around the cave I found a very sturdy one that would not break under the weight of the heavy rock. Thank goodness, I thought. My hopes soared at the possibility of finally getting out. I wedged the stick under the rock and just as I was about to heave it backward, it rolled away as if by magic.

***

Discussion Questions: Faith is certain that she is old enough to explore the woods behind her house. Her mother agrees but gives her a limitation. Does Faith stay within the limitation that her mother set? Does God give us limitations? What are they? Read Philippians 2:3&4. Now read Galatians 5:13-26 for more instruction.

### Chapter 7

I scooted backwards in fear and amazement as the boulder over the small entrance to the cave suddenly rolled away. The little dog darted out. "Wait," I cried, afraid the dog would be lost. I stuck my head out of the hole and saw the boy next door. He sneered at me. "It's you," I said.

"What are you doing trying to steal my dog?" he demanded, the dog sitting obediently beside him.

"I wasn't. I was only taking a walk and I found him and now I am stuck in this cave."

"How long have you been stuck here?"

"All morning."

"Didn't you know about this opening?"

"No. I shimmied down that tree from up above. I came in the other way. I tried to push the rock away but it was too heavy. Then you came."

"Well," said the boy, coming over to me. "Come on out."

"I'm not sure I'll fit."

"Oh, you'll fit. Put your arms through first and then wiggle the rest of your body through. I've done it lots of times."

I felt a little frightened I might get stuck but doing it as he instructed, I slipped right out. Now on the other side I felt a rush of relief. "I thought I'd never get out of there," I laughed. "Thank you." I wiped the dirt off my clothes and smiled at my new friend. "My name is Faith Heart."

"I'm Dan Nickels and this is my dog, Michael."

"Michael," I repeated weighing the name on the yellow dog.

"Yeah, like the arch angel. He's going to be my angel. Look how he follows me," said Dan, and skipping up the mountain, the dog loped after him. We laughed at the dog, falling and tripping over his own feet.

Dan carried a bag of day-old hot dogs from Jerry's Dogs, the hot dog stand in town. He fed some to the dog as they walked along through the woods, every now and again taking a bite for himself. "No wonder he follows you," I said.

"He's going to grow up and follow my every step and protect me and guard me," he answered. "I call him Mike for short."

"Where did you get him?"

"He belonged to one of the farmers up the road," said Dan, indicating the rutted road behind the cave.

"I thought it might be a road but it is so full of holes, I wasn't sure anyone used it."

"Oh, yes," Dan assured her. "There are lots of people that live up that road. Of course, not many of them have cars so they don't care about the ruts. One of the families up there had a dog that had puppies and once they got too old and no one wanted them, they were going to drown them. But I saved Mike and I brought him to this cave."

"Drown them! Why would they drown them?"

"They don't have the money to keep them and they don't want them going wild. Packs of wild dogs are dangerous and so, if a dog gets puppies, they kill the ones no one wants."

"How awful."

Dan nodded. He looked wild with his uncombed curly blond hair and his piercing blue eyes. He was barefoot and his feet were black with tar from walking the town streets. "They do the same thing with kittens only not so much because they aren't dangerous like a pack of wild dogs can be."

"Do your dad and mom know you have Mike? Was that your dad I saw?"

"He's not my dad," Dan said angrily. "He's my uncle and, no, they don't know."

"I'm sorry," I apologized for making the mistake of calling the angry man who had driven off in a temper, his father. "How will you keep your dog a secret?"

"I'm going to do just as I have been doing this past month. I'm going to take care of Mike out here. The cave is a good place for him and I can bring him food every day from Jerry's and take him for walks."

"Can I help you?"

"Okay," smiled Dan. "But you can't tell anyone, not a single soul. Promise?"

"I promise," I said quickly. "I think the first thing we should do is find something that will hold water so he doesn't get thirsty."

"That's a good idea. I usually just take him to the creek but he should have a bowl or something."

For the rest of the morning we scoured the forest for items to make Mike more comfortable in his cave. Dan used his pocketknife to cut the top off an old plastic milk container for a water bowl. We collected a pile of soft leaves and long grasses for a bed. We even found an old blanket balled up beside the Boy Scout cabin down the road. We scrambled back and forth from the cave through the forest. "I feel like a bird family making a nest," I said.

"Yeah, it's like Mike is our baby." He blushed, "Don't tell anyone I said that."

I laughed. I really liked Dan, as a friend of course.

When we were satisfied with the cave, Mike curled up on his new bed and went to sleep. We rolled the rock back into place over the entrance to the cave and agreed to meet again later in the day. "I can show you lots of places around here and Mike can come, too," said Dan, who was very familiar with the woods.

"But where will we meet?"

"Oh, I'll see you, don't worry. I'll be around."

"Aren't you eating lunch, too?"

Dan shook his head. "I don't eat much."

"Doesn't your mom get mad at you if you don't come home for lunch?"

"No."

We walked down the mountain to my house. Dan still held one of the branches we used to sweep the cave, pulling off the small twigs as we walked. Dan looked very thin to me and I wondered if he might not be sick, having lost his appetite and not wanting lunch.

"If you can, bring something for Mike. It's hard to find stuff he'll eat."

"Like what?"

"Meat and some bread or rice or something. He'll eat cooked vegetables. He doesn't like fruit, though."

"Okay. I'll see what I can find. What about milk? Does he like milk?"

"It makes him sick."

I assured him I would find something. I wanted to invite him over while I ate but something different about Dan made me hold back my invitation. My mother had been very upset that day we had gone knocking on Dan's door. I'd overheard her telling dad how she worried that some sort of abuse took place in the house. My father responded to my mother's concerns by telling her to use caution in how she viewed the situation, "You have only seen one moment of those people's lives. It's unfair to think the worst of them." I decided to keep our friendship a secret until I got to know Dan a little better.

My mother had lunch ready and waiting. She hugged me tightly, "I was worried about you. You were out in those woods all morning and you are late."

"I guess I need a watch. I came home when I got hungry." I ate the grilled cheese sandwich. "I had a wonderful time. Can I go back after lunch?"

"I guess so. What did you do?"

"Oh, I found another great place where I could see the whole town and then there was a little cave underneath."

"A cave? You need to be careful."

"It wasn't like a real cave. It was very small. How was your morning?"

"Nice. I met several of our neighbors who all seem to be very friendly. They invited me to play golf this afternoon, but of course I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Well, I'd have to get a babysitter for Sonny, and I wouldn't want to leave you so soon after we moved here."

"It's okay if you want to." I finished the sandwich and was now working on a bowl of strawberries. "I'm so glad we moved here. I love the woods." Back in Atlanta there were no woods nearby. There had been a park but it had been small and certainly not as exciting as these woods.

"Maybe one day you'll show me all these neat places you've found."

"Sure I will. But, not today."

My mom lifted her brows at that answer. "I'm glad you are so happy." She took my plate and bowl to the counter and we began tidying up the kitchen. I waited around until she said, "I'm going upstairs to check on Sonny." Sonny took a nap every afternoon. I watched her go.

Stealthily, I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a large bag of leftover stew from last night's dinner. The bag would not fit under my shirt so I carried it in front of me and ran as quickly as I could back outside, yelling, "See ya," just before I let the backdoor fly shut.

***

Discussion Questions: Faith prayed for Dan after she met him the first time. Dan seemed to be avoiding an encounter with his new neighbors but meeting Faith in the woods makes him react differently. Why? Look up 2 Thessalonians 1:11.

### Chapter 8

"Faith's up in those woods every chance she gets," I heard my mom say a few days later on an afternoon in the middle of June. Dad came home for lunch and sat in the kitchen while I sat on the other side of the fireplace in the den reading an interesting book on the history of Lacawalla that I got at the library. I wanted to learn more about Captain Milner so I could find more clues about where he might have hid the treasure. I knew they could not see me and that I should let them know I could hear them but before I could, my mom said, "And she's sneaking more food. I guess that's what she's eating for lunch because she doesn't come home to eat."

"Did she take something this morning?" It was nearly time for Dad to go back to the hospital.

"No, but she took half of a meatloaf yesterday. She had it tucked up in the front of her shirt when she left. I can't imagine why she just doesn't ask for a picnic lunch."

"She doesn't like meatloaf."

"I suspect it is more for her new friend Dan Nickels than it is for her. I catch a glimpse of him every now and then. Poor thing, he's as thin as the last kitten in a litter and just as shy, too"

"Yes I remember someone saying there was a boy Faith's age."

"If it weren't that I thought she was practicing a little charity towards him, I'd take her to task for it. But I get the feeling it's wrong to approach her about it. She doesn't have a guilty look about her. Just the opposite, really."

"She's been very happy here. We're lucky about that."

Mom agreed.

"I talked to Ms. Smart about the Nickels," my dad said. Ms. Smart served as the town's librarian. My ears perked up at that. Dad went on, "Turns out that the family is practically destitute. Bill McCrery is Mrs. Nickels' brother. He's a real miser. Mrs. Nickels owns the house and the land above it. Immigrants farm much of her land and her brother, this Bill McCrery, moved in and took over the management of the land when Mrs. Nickels' husband was killed in a car accident. No one has seen much of Mrs. Nickels since the accident. Ms. Smart said the poor woman went through an awful period of grief and couldn't possibly have managed the place on her own. No one thought much of it when Bill McCrery came into town and moved right in. Everyone was relieved, she said. Then Dan started showing up at school dressed in rumpled clothes. His pants were too short and his shoes hurt him. Dan said they didn't have the money and so the town started giving Mrs. Nickels their hand-me-downs."

"Someone should do something to help her."

"They are. I asked around at the hospital. It seems these immigrant farmers are having a hard time under McCrery's management. They lease the land they farm but McCrery is so tight with his money that he raised the rent and never raised their wages. Used to be they could afford what they needed but now they get almost nothing for what they farm. The crops have diminished for lack of proper attention and fertilizer. Mr. Nickels always managed the harvests, renting any machinery needed, and he helped to take care of the crops, but McCrery does nothing for the immigrant farmers. They hardly have even half the amount of peaches they used to sell. I thought I might take a ride up there with the next medical group. There is a round-robin medical service that goes up there every month or so to prescribe medicine and offer health services free-of-charge. It would be a nice way to get to know some of those folks."

My mom sounded worried. "Oh, Henry, they may not be too friendly. I heard Bill McCrery carries a shotgun. They might all be that way, carrying shotguns and shooting people. I'm not so sure it's such a good idea for you to go up there." Evidentially, Mom already knew what Dad told her and more.

"The doctors always go mid-month so as not to run into McCrery. He's the only one to look out for. The rest of the people are fine. McCrery collects rent at the end of the month."

"But, Henry, how can you be sure?"

"Because the other doctors have told me. Don't worry. Besides, you know this is why I came here. I want to make a difference and I know in my gut this is what I should be doing."

My mom and dad had an understanding that whenever either of them had a clear vision of what God wanted them to do, the other would not interfere. My mom simply quieted and said nothing more.

"McCrery's a bad character, to be sure," Dad tried to reassure her. "But plenty of other people go up there to help the sharecroppers and nothing has happened to them. They are just regular people trying to make a living." I peeked through the fireplace and saw my dad put his arm around Mom as she stood beside him. "Now, Helen, I will be fine. God has directed all of us here, I'm sure of it, and He will protect us."

"Plenty of bad things happen to good people."

"I can hardly argue with that—one of the more mysterious aspects of the Christian faith that although we can trust in God, it doesn't mean that unfortunate things won't happen. However, there are plenty of miracles that can happen as well, and we can't give up on faith because we don't understand all the things that God allows to happen. Have faith," he said to my mom, "and let's make it our business to love the people God has given to us."

"It's awfully hard to love someone like Mr. McCrery. But I will try."

I took my book out to the patio where I found Sonny playing with a sailboat in the fountain. I sat down and thought about my friend and wondered if Mr. McCrery was the same man who stormed out of his house the first day I met Dan. He had to be, I thought.

*

Several days later I sat by the open window by the porch reading when a jeep rolled into our driveway. It had a white cross painted on it. My dad jumped out of it and ran up to my Mom who sat on the porch. "We're going up the road to take a look at Mr. Sanchez. He wounded his leg. I might be a little late for dinner," he told her. He pointed to the road that skirted Dan's house, the one that turns into a narrow rutted mess further up the mountain.

Dr. Smith waved to Mom from the jeep and then turned to let his daughter, Judy, out. "I brought Judy along to play with Faith."

"Faith's inside reading," my mom said.

"Okay," said Judy. She followed my dad into the house. Dr. Smith got out of the jeep and sat on the porch with Mom.

I groaned as I heard Judy dash into the house calling my name. I hadn't spoken with her since the incident at church. I heard my mom ask Dr. Smith, "Have you been up the road before?"

"Oh, yeah. Fine people. There's a lot of need for health care up there. Most of the people don't have any sort of vehicle and wouldn't be able to get to town in an emergency. One of the sharecropper's girls ran over to the hospital this morning, said her father was hurt pretty badly. We'll go up and take a look. Sometimes I can get Dr. Francis to go up. He's our local dentist. He goes up every once in a while and pulls teeth. You should come with us some time, Helen. I'm sure you'd be able to help."

"Me? I could maybe bring up some food or something."

"Didn't you say you spoke Spanish?"

"Yes. Do they speak Spanish?"

"They're all Mexican. A lot of them don't speak any English at all. Usually the children translate for us if they're around. You being a nurse and speaking Spanish would really be helpful."

"Well, I'll think about it."

"Maybe next time then."

"Yes," she smiled, but I could tell Mom had some reservations. "You don't suppose you'll be seeing Mr. McCrery up there today?"

"Not likely. He's usually out of town in the middle of the month. He goes over to Atlantic City as soon as he collects the rent money. He's a big gambler. He spent some time in jail a few years ago, before he came here."

"Jail?"

"Hit and run accident. He nearly killed this guy and then ran off. The police found him in his car, passed out from drinking all night. Best for you to stay away from him, as far as you can get."

"Unfortunately, that's not very far," my mother said.

"He won't bother you."

Mom told him about our encounter with the Nickels, how we had heard someone crying and gone up to investigate. Dr. Smith nodded and told her he thought Mrs. Nickels might be suffering from depression. "Mrs. Milner told me she could see her walking by the windows or out on the porch sometimes when she passed by but that Mrs. Nickels never left the house." Mrs. Milner was the woman who had lived in our house previously. "She was fine up until her husband died. Sometimes grief can grow into a serious depression."

"How sad," I heard my dad say as he came back on the porch.

I saw Dr. Smith nod in agreement. Poor Mrs. Nickels, she seemed so far from everyone's reach. If she would just ask for help herself then we could all do something, but Dan was a proud boy not ready to ask and I guessed his mom felt that way, too. I said a quick prayer for them and then, seeing Judy found me, I quickly stuck my head out the window and cried, "Wait." I passed Judy, ran to the door, and out to the porch. "Can I come? Please Daddy?" I know my dad knew I was unhappy about being left with Judy. "Please?" I begged.

My dad looked over at Dr. Smith who simply shrugged his shoulder, "All right with me. Judy comes a lot."

"What about you, Helen? Is it okay if she comes?" Dad asked.

"Please, Mommy."

Sonny ran out the door and over to Mom who bent down and picked up her son. "You've taken Judy before?"

"Yeah, it's good for her to see how the other half lives."

"I'll look after her," Dad promised.

"Okay," my mother relented. "But I want you back before dark, a deal?"

"Fine with me," said Dr. Smith, "I never stay past five."

Dad nodded to me and I hopped into the back seat, Judy following me. The jeep bounced up the rutted road like a rubber ball, hitting rocks and rolling over ditches. I thought it would be easier to hang around dad and ignore Judy than it would be to ignore her at home with Mom. I could smell Judy's clean clothes and hair, unlike Dan whose scent was piqued with sweat and odors of grass, leaves, dirt and his dog, Mike. I longed to be with him and wondered why he hadn't met me at the cave that morning. It was not like him to skip meeting me.

I had almost forgotten her in my thoughts of Dan when I felt Judy's soft hand close around my own, demanding and tight. I shrugged her off, wriggling my hand free, and turned away.

We came in sight of one of the houses. The woods up here were thick and beautiful. Mountain laurel and honeysuckle bloomed along the side of the road and wild violets littered the ground. A woman stood on the front stoop of a gray field stone house smaller than our garage and lined with wild flowers. She waved her hand for us to pass. She called haltingly to my dad who stretched his head out the side of the jeep, "Is go," she said, pointing to the houses beyond.

"But what about you?" asked Dr. Smith stopping the jeep anyway, "and your children?"

I saw a flash of blond hair the color of Dan's ducking behind the house. An older girl poked her head from behind the house where Dan had ducked and stuck her tongue out at Judy.

"How rude," Judy shouted and stuck her tongue back out at the girl.

"Bien," the woman answered. "Sanchez house, is go there."

"What happened?"

"Que mal suerte, pobrecito," she said, lapsing into her native tongue. She pointed to her leg, "bad, very bad. You fix."

"Which one is the Sanchez house?" Dad asked.

"Ocho mas. Arriba. Go!"

"She said eight more, Dad," I told them.

Dr. Smith turned to my dad. "It must be pretty bad," he said waving to the woman as they left. "Did you bring your medicine bag?"

"Yes," my dad answered.

Not all of the houses looked as well kept or as well constructed as the first. As we passed by, people came outside, waved us on, indicating that we should keep going, and not stop. Apparently everyone knew we were coming and everyone was directing us to Mr. Sanchez's house. His was the last house, the eighth one, and the worst. I couldn't imagine anyone really living in it. The outside was full of junk that no one else wanted. A whole car rusted to a metallic orange lay right in the front yard. Dad identified it as a Ford Mustang. I also saw an old washing machine, several television sets left out in the rain and obviously no good at all, a vacuum cleaner, a toilet, lots of pipes of every size, hubcaps, a stack of old crumbling bricks, and twenty or more car tires. Cats crept in out of everything, wildly darting away from us as our car drove in front of the tumbling down shack. "This is Mr. Sanchez's house. He's a pack rat," smiled Dr. Smith, "so be prepared."

Dr. Smith knocked on the door but my dad brushed right by him, opening the door himself. A foul odor flooded out from the house that made me cover my nose and mouth. I never smelled anything so putrid. Judy gagged and turned back outside.

Dr. Smith mumbled in disgust at the odor. "He's dying in there." The stench was putrid Dr. Smith pulled out a handkerchief and put it over his nose and mouth before he entered. "He's over here," my dad called. "Get the needle out of my bag." I saw that my father was already working hard to get a tourniquet on the man's leg. "Fill it with antibiotics. We'll need two shots."

"Two? Don't waste two."

I saw my dad pause for only a moment. "We're not wasting it," he said.

Dr. Smith retrieved the needle from my father's black bag. The costly bag contained all sorts of tools and prescriptions. The doctors at his old hospital in Atlanta had given it to him when he left.

My eyes adjusted to the dark room unlit by either lamp or sunlight. In a dark corner, I saw Mr. Sanchez lying on a mattress soiled by his wounded leg. He looked at me in a way that made me want to cry. I found a lantern on the table which I brought over to Dad.

"Father be with us," My dad prayed as he gave the man two large injections of antibiotics at either end of the wound where the bone had broken the skin. A third shot in the arm made him fall asleep.

Daddy turned to Dr. Smith, "There's no way to transport him to the hospital. The trip back in the jeep, bouncing all around, would surely kill him."

"Shall we amputate it?" asked Dr. Smith.

"We could. It's gangrene but we should try to save it. What would this poor man do without the use of both legs?"

"I'm sure he'll think of something."

"George, he's barely making it with two legs."

"I can't clean that wound out and set the bone," said Dr. Smith. "That's hours of work and for nothing. It's not going to save it." Even as Dr. Smith complained, he prepared to clean it. My dad smiled at him and then to me he said, "You go on out and play. We'll be in here for a while."

***

Discussion Questions: Everyone seems to be avoiding Mr. McCrery, Dan's uncle. What are some of Mr. McCrery's actions that Dr. Heart counts as wrong and harmful to others? What are we supposed to do when the friends around us start to do wrong? Look up Psalm 1:1. Read Ephesians 5 for more instruction.

### Chapter 9

I felt relieved to be out of Sr. Sanchez's house. I blinked in the bright sunlight. I saw Judy running around the piles of junk in the yard, dashing back and forth and ducking now and then to grab at something. "What are you trying to catch?" If we were going to be here a long time, I figured we might as well be friends.

"A cat." She had just about cornered a gray tabby as big as a rabbit when she shrank away in fright. "It hissed at me."

"You're lucky it didn't bite you. You shouldn't corner animals like that."

"It's wild," said Judy. "Come on over here, I hear something."

I stood beside her and heard the soft mewing of kittens. "Where do you think she hid them? No wonder she's so mean to you. She's protecting her litter."

We searched through the junk that covered the yard until Judy found the little nest of kittens tucked away in a clothes drying machine whose lid had fallen off. "Look, there's a red one. Isn't she cute?"

"I like that multi-colored one in the corner," I told her.

The mother cat had found a wonderful hiding place for her kittens inside an old clothes dryer with a broken door that protected the little kittens from rain and wind.

"I wish we could pick one up," moaned Judy.

"Me, too. But I wouldn't dare. Look at the mother."

Our close proximity to her kittens made the mother cat very nervous. She stood crouched only a foot or so away from them with her tail whipping back and forth anxiously. Every once in a while she would hiss menacingly and yowl at us.

"I'm picking up that orange one anyway," said Judy and before I could stop her, she had reached in and pulled it out by the tail. In a flash the mother cat leaped at her leg, madly protecting her young.

Judy swiftly kicked the mother cat before it could do any damage and set it flying through the air.

"You stupid dummy," I shouted at her. "You selfish, stupid, dumb, idiot!" I angrily pushed Judy.

"Leave me alone," she yelled at me, tenaciously hanging on to the red kitten mewing miserably for its mother.

"What are you doing? First you take the poor thing from its mother and then you kick the mother. What if you hurt it?"

"I didn't hurt it," Judy spat. "It landed on its feet. And besides, she attacked me."

The mother cat looked unhurt though totally defeated. She backed off the moment she landed, relinquishing her kittens to us.

"Only because you stole her kitten."

"I'm not stealing it; I'm just going to play with it."

Seeing the worst done already and no way to change it, I scooped out the multi-colored kitten that I had admired. "And don't ever grab a kitten by its tail again."

"I won't," replied Judy petulantly, sitting down and putting the kitten in her lap. "Look," she giggled, "it's climbing up my shirt.

I joined her on the grass, holding my precious kitten and stroking its soft fur. The two us watched the kittens tumble around and play with each other. Their eyes were open and soon they would want to venture out of the nest. They were old enough to be a lot of fun. "Look, now it's chasing its own tail," said Judy. We laughed and carried on so loudly with the kittens that we did not notice anyone else. I knew Judy stooped pretty low. She didn't have the principles my dad often talked about. She'd do things that were flat out wrong, but she sure could be a lot of fun.

"How'd you get those kittens away from the mother?"

I startled at the familiar voice and looked up to see Dan's face watching me. I asked, "How'd you get here? Was that you at the first house? Where were you this morning? I waited by the cave."

Dan jerked his head in the direction of his friend. "Angel came down early in the morning. We brought Mike. He's back at her aunt's house. Her aunt is helping us train him."

I looked at Angel. She was a few years older than any of us. Her hair hung long and black, framing a beautiful brown face. "Hi," I said to her.

"Why don't you two get lost," Judy said.

"Shut up," said Dan.

"Shut up yourself."

"Why don't you get lost," Angel said to Judy and then gently pulled out a gray kitten that looked just like its mother.

"Hey, those are our kittens," Judy said jumping to her feet and pushing Angel away from them.

"Too late. I stole one," the older girl laughed as if Judy were no more than a bothersome fly to be shooed away.

"Give it back right now."

"Judy," I grabbed her arm and turned her around, "let her play with a kitten."

"They aren't your kittens," Dan said to Judy, and picked out another gray one with white feet.

Judy scowled.

They sat in a circle on the grass and watched the kittens play in the middle. "I know," said Angel, "let's take the kittens to the ancient forest."

"The ancient forest?" I asked.

"You haven't shown her the forest yet?" Angel asked Dan.

Dan shook his head. "I don't mind showing Faith but I sure don't want her coming," Dan said, pointing to Judy.

"Well, you're not going to leave me alone. Besides, I'm the one who got you the kittens. You wouldn't even have a kitten if it weren't for me."

"You never told us how you got rid of the mother kitten," Angel reminded her. "I have tried many times to play with these kittens but the mother cat would not let me, and the mother cat knows me. How is it you got her to go away?"

Judy remained silent and gave me a pleading look.

Knowing the chastisement Judy would receive from the group for having kicked the mother cat, I couldn't tell on her. I said nothing.

"You can't come unless you tell us," Angel said.

"I kicked her," Judy finally said.

"Ah-h-h," was all Angel said.

"All right. I guess we can take her to the forest," Dan relented after a while, picking up his kitten to take with him. "I'm bored just sitting here."

The ancient forest, as Angel and Dan called it, was a grove of old growth oak trees on top of a small plateau. The oaks were huge, many hundreds of years old, and encircled a spring-fed pool of water that flowed down the mountain and ran behind the shrine to Captain Milner. We stopped at a small waterfall. Rhododendron grew at the banks of the pond. I had never seen such a beautiful place and I smiled at Dan and Angel for showing it to me.

We sat by the pond where a break in the trees let the declining afternoon sun shined warmly on us. We set the kittens down where there was room for them to run around and play their silly games while we watched. Judy found a branch on the ground that had a few small green leaves still attached to it and she began teasing the kittens, making them chase the branch. Everyone was laughing and Judy, in a rush of excitement over having the power to entertain, took the branch the kittens were chasing and slid it into the water. Before any one could stop it, Judy's orange kitten slid into the water after the branch. The children watched as the little kitten flopped around in the water trying to get at the branch. Then its head went under the water.

Angel jumped into the cold spring water without flinching and retrieved the kitten from the bottom of the pond. The little kitten shivered in her arms, spitting, sneezing, and having an awful time getting rid of the water in her tiny lungs.

Judy watched frozen in amazement at what had happened. Dan shook her out of her stupor. "You idiot. You stupid girl. You are such a donkey. How could you do such a thing," he yelled, shaking her like a rag doll.

"Dan, stop," I grabbed his arm but he flung me away.

Judy suddenly came to and pushed Dan off, shoving him back. "Leave me alone!" Judy screamed. "How was I to know it would jump in? I didn't mean it." Judy started crying and then ran off before anyone could blame her again.

"What an idiot she is," said Dan.

"Where is she going? She's going to get lost," I worried. "Is she running in the wrong direction?"

"Who cares if she gets lost," said Dan.

"She's headed toward the orchards," said Angel, her teeth chattering from the cold water.

"We better find her," I urged them.

"I think you're right." Angel said. "We can't just leave her."

"I'll get her," said Dan. "Come on, Faith."

I took off my light jacket and gave it to Angel to wear. Angel scooped up the kittens and put them in my jacket instead of wearing it, bundling them all together. "I'll get these back to their mother and dry this other one off." She turned and headed back towards Mr. Sanchez's house while Dan grabbed my arm and started running after Judy.

As I ran along beside Dan, I asked, "Does Angel live at the first house?"

"Yes, but she has clothes at her dad's she can wear."

"Her dad's?"

"Yeah, Mr. Sanchez is Angel's father. She came down early this morning and asked me to go to the hospital with her. We went into town and used Mr. Elliott's phone." Mr. Elliott owned Jerry's Dogs.

"Oh," I said absently, realizing now that Angel must be very worried about her father.

"Why does her Dad's house have so much stuff in the yard?"

We slowed down. Dan shrugged. "Mr. Sanchez started hoarding things after his wife died in Mexico a few years ago. Kind of weird. I don't really understand but then, I kind of do."

We spotted Judy and called her back but she stubbornly kept walking. We followed her to the very end of the oak forest until we were right on the edge of the plateau. It was a steep drop down and Judy sat at the edge, hunched over and crying. Below were acres of peaches, their fruit hanging heavily on the trees. Swarms of bees buzzed around them as loudly as a noisy highway. "It stinks," I said, seeing that some of the fruit had rotted early on the trees. Judy looked miserable.

"Come on," Dan said to Judy, "get up and let's go home."

"No, I'm not going. Not with you."

"Come on, I'll walk back with you," I said. "It's okay, no one's mad at you anymore."

"I didn't know. I didn't mean to do that. I loved that kitten."

"It'll be fine. Angel will dry it in the sun and keep it warm." Dan said impatiently.

"I wouldn't have done it if I knew."

"All right already," said Dan. "I'm sorry I shook you."

Judy looked up at him. "I hate you," she said. Then she got up and stomped off in front of us.

"Just head straight and if you run off again I'm not coming to look for you," Dan yelled at her. "She'll cool off," Dan said to me. "She always does."

"What smells so bad down there?"

"Rotting peaches. My uncle never harvested them. He just let the fruit rot on the ground and in the trees. I don't know what he's going to do. Mr. Sanchez was trying to save some of the trees, pruning them and picking off the old fruit. That's how he hurt himself." Dan shouted to Judy, "Take that path to your right."

Judy turned on to the path without looking back at us.

When we got back, Angel had changed her clothes and was sitting in the sun with the little orange tabby that almost drowned. The mother cat fed the other kittens in the dryer. My father still worked on Mr. Sanchez's leg. My watch showed five minutes after five o'clock.

I peeked inside Mr. Sanchez's house. Dad sat stitching Mr. Sanchez's leg while Mr. Smith held the wound together. Dad looked exhausted. "Mr. Sanchez is asleep," I whispered to Angel.

"He's sick with a high fever," Angel bit her lip. I could see how worried she felt.

"You go on, George," I heard my dad say when he'd finished the stitching. "Take the girls. I will stay the night." Someone would have to stay. Dr. Smith nodded. "Come on," he said to us.

Judy hopped in the jeep while I hesitated. I put my arms around my father. "I'll tell Mom you'll be back tomorrow," I said.

"Tell her not to worry. I'll be just fine."

Dr. Smith promised to return as soon as possible in the morning with the proper supplies of medicine for the leg and anything else he could think of that would be helpful. "Bring some coffee and breakfast," Dad said smiling and waving good-bye.

Just before the jeep drove off, Angel came running with my jacket bundled in her arms. She put it in my lap and smiled at me with tears in her eyes. "Gracias," she whispered in a hoarse voice. Dr. Smith pulled away and Judy tore at my jacket, pulling out the red kitten, and holding it to her. "Oh, Daddy, can I keep it?" she begged her father. "Please."

I turned away and looked out the side of the jeep. I didn't really care that Judy had stolen the kitten away from me. I felt worried about my own father. I hoped that Dan's uncle would not make a visit during the night.

"You can keep it," I heard Dr. Smith tell his daughter. "As long as you take care of it."

***

Discussion Questions: Why did Angel give Faith the red kitten? Why did Judy think she could take the kitten? What rights did Judy have to assume the kitten was given to both of them? God is like a precious gift to us. Can anyone take Him away from us? Read Romans 8:38-39.

### Chapter 10

I waited for Dan outside the entrance to the cave for nearly an hour. Mike rested inside; weary from a morning of training. I'd gone home for lunch deciding not to overly worry my mom. I tried to be home for lunch every day now.

Finally, I saw Dan running up the path, breathing heavily and holding out a handful of strawberries. It's funny how he had nothing but he got on pretty well anyway and shared even the little he had.

He looked at my bag of leftovers that I held. I held up the bag, "I brought this but I'm not sure how good it is. You might want to eat some first to make sure the food is okay. I would myself but I'm kind of full."

Dan shrugged his shoulders, "Okay," he said. He pulled off a large piece of chicken from the bone and popped it into his mouth. "Hm-m-m." He took another one. Still, he wasn't sure. "I better eat some more, I can't tell yet." He ate three more strips of chicken and then decided Mike could have the rest. He pushed the rock aside, and the young dog crawled out, wagging his tail and jumping up and down. Dan was very stern with him about jumping. "I can't have him doing that. One day he will be too big for that to be safe," he explained to me. Petting the dog kindly, he said to it, "I need you to be gentle and well-behaved." Then he hugged him tenderly.

As we walked, Dan fed the dog, sometimes eating a potato or a piece of chicken himself. The dog followed along eagerly and we began to talk about things other than Mike. "What grade are you in?" he asked me.

"I'm going into high school next year, and scared about it. How about you?"

"I'm going to eighth. I can't wait. I don't even like the summer because I'd rather be in school."

"Are you crazy?"

"No. I mean it. School is great. They feed you and you get to read books and do lots of stuff."

"I never met anyone who loved school."

"Well, happy to meet you then," he said, bowing to me with a light-hearted smile.

Today we headed towards the stream in the woods with the huge boulders. Dan cupped his hands into the water, "This part of the stream has the sweetest water in the world," he said. I had to agree although I had never thought of water as being sweet.

"What is your favorite subject?"

"I think math," Dan said. "Or, maybe science."

"Are you very smart?"

"Well, I don't want to brag on myself, but I get by all right. I might even be able to skip eighth grade and go to ninth with you, but I have to take a test first. How about you, what's your favorite subject?"

"Lunch is my favorite subject," I laughed. "I'm okay in school. I try to do well but math is kind of tough for me. I forget all the steps you have to take sometimes to figure out a problem and I get confused about why you have to do it anyway."

"I can see that. Lots of people are like that. To me, numbers are amazing because they have so many uses. Take number placement in the two base system, you know, like for computers? It's just 0 and 1. You can't write 2, you write 10. It just means on or off. In fact, computers are just electrical currents on or off—1 or 0—and look what you can do with just those two numbers! Get it?"

"I guess." I didn't have a clue.

"Everything is on or off, even letters are in numbers 0 and 1. Colors, everything! Even pictures."

I shrugged. I just couldn't get excited about the two base system. "Hey, do you hear that?"

Dan turned, "Yeah, someone is calling you. You think it's your mom?"

"I don't think so. Oh, no," I said seeing Judy running up the road, calling my name. "I can't believe it."

"Judy Smith," Dan growled. "I'm leaving."

"Oh, no, don't. We'll hide." But it was too late, Judy came running up as fast as she could. I looked at Dan and frowned.

"Hi! Whose dog?" Judy asked, panting from her run.

"Mine," said Dan.

"Can I pet him?"

"If you promise not to tell anyone about him."

"I won't," she assured Dan and sat down on the rock and began to play with Mike. "He sure is cute. What's his name?"

"Mike," we both said.

"That's a stupid name. Who thought of that?"

"And you're a stupid girl," answered Dan.

"Shut up," Judy stood up and made a face at him. "You smell."

"Come on, Faith, let's go," Dan said. "I don't want to hang around this donkey-faced girl."

"You can't," said Judy, grabbing my hand. "I'm here visiting you. Your mom told me to come and find you. You and my dad are out helping those people again," Judy said, looking at Dan. "What are you doing with him, anyway? He's just a hick, one of those stupid farmers."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Dan screamed until his face turned bright red and he was near tears. He picked up his dog and started off into the woods.

"And I'm telling about your dog," yelled Judy.

"Wait," I called to Dan. "Don't go."

Dan turned around and looked at me, waiting for me to do or say something.

Quickly, I turned on Judy, shaking off her hand and grabbing her by the arms. "You just shut up around him. He's my friend and if you can't be nice to him then you are no friend of mine and you can just go." I dropped my grasp, expecting Judy to turn around and leave. But Judy just gaped at me as if I had three heads. When it was clear that Judy was not going to leave, I told her, "Stay then if you want. But if you say one word about his dog, I'll never be your friend."

Judy shook her head. "How can you be friends with this horrible, smelly boy?"

"He's a lot nicer and a lot smarter than you, Judy Smith." I ran over and took Dan's hand in my own. "He's my best friend."

Judy started laughing. "I can't believe it. You have no idea. He's the meanest boy in school. He doesn't have any friends and he's always skipping school because his stupid dad is such a loser!"

Dan stormed into Judy's face and grabbed her by the collar. Judy screamed for him to let go but he ignored her. "Why you little creep. Shut up," he said. "That man is not my father, do you get that? He's not my father."

"Then who is he, your mother's boyfriend?"

"He's my uncle." Dan let go of Judy's collar and turned away from us. "I'm going back to the cave."

"So where's your mother? No one ever sees her."

Judy's pluck amazed me.

"She stays inside," said Dan more to me than to Judy. Then, for the first time ever, Dan began to talk about her. "She's blind. I'm going to teach the dog how to guide her. I'm going to teach him how to protect her from my uncle. That's why I want the dog. That's why I'm teaching him how to follow and not jump up on people."

I stood in stunned silence. Dan sat down on one of the boulders and looked at us very seriously.

"Okay, I'll help you, Dan," said Judy. "I promise I won't tell."

I nodded and Dan, realizing now that we pledged our friendship to him, smiled weakly. "Thanks. I think I'll need your help."

Dan told us that he had to somehow, some way, help his mother. "I don't know why I've kept quiet for so long, as if Mom's blindness is some shame against her. It just makes her so helpless."

Judy and I agreed that there was no shame in being blind. "I really want to help," I told Dan. "Maybe one day I can meet your mom."

For the rest of the afternoon, we played with Mike, teaching him how to become a seeing-eye dog. Dan knew all about what we needed to do. He had researched how to train Mike. We went over commands like sit, stay, come and heel, hundreds of times, always giving the puppy a little piece of chicken or potato anytime he got something right. Dan usually chose me to act as Dan's mother, using a rope as a leash and having the dog lead me around an obstacle course.

All afternoon as we played and trained Mike together, I wondered why Dan had opened up to me, and especially, to Judy, about his problems with his mother. I could only think that he must be pretty desperate.

*

That evening, after Judy left, Dan brought me to his home for dinner. He found his mom in the kitchen making soup. Mrs. Nickels was able to see a little bit, enough to find her way around the kitchen. Dan told me that she often made soup, stew, rice, or noodles for dinner. Looking around the kitchen, I couldn't believe how little they had. Dan gave her the strawberries he'd picked earlier and Mrs. Nickels said she could make a strawberry tart using a bit of flour, sugar and butter. She looked around as if she could sense my presence. She said, "Is someone with you?"

Dan introduced me. Mrs. Nickels had blond hair and cloudy blue eyes that wandered back and forth, always searching for the light. Her eyes looked as if something had grown over them like a shell of thin plastic. Dan hugged her fiercely when she told him that his uncle would not be home. "I hope he never comes back," Dan said.

Mrs. Nickels agreed but she admitted she felt helpless to get rid of him. She shrugged her arms and said, "He won't leave." Then she changed the subject. "I can hear a smile in your voice. Did you have a good day?"

"The best." Dan answered and we sat down at the kitchen table. His mother ladled out the soup into two bowls for us to eat. "I'm going to get a job," Dan said. "I think I can talk the guy at the newspaper into letting me take the morning route. He's really nice and we can use the money for stuff we need."

Dan's mother nodded as tears welled up in her eyes. "You're so young to have to work," she said.

"I can do it, Mom, but I don't want Uncle Bill to know. This money's for us. For the things we need like soap, for heaven's sake." He put his hand over his mother's and her face turned towards him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to swear like that."

"Of course you're right, honey. Just go ahead and buy what we need. I won't tell Bill."

"Did you find out anything about the rent money?" Mrs. Nickels asked her son.

"I talked to Angel's Aunt Elena. She said she paid and so did everyone else."

"It's just as we thought then." Mrs. Nickels shook her head. "He's gambling with that money."

"He's such a liar," said Dan about his uncle. He turned to me and explained, "He claims the people leasing our land never pay the rent like they're supposed to do. I saw he's letting the peach crop rot again this summer. Can't we call the police?"

"We could but there's nothing the police can do about someone who will not harvest their own crops. I'm hoping I can get my brother to change before it's too late. I have another plan. Can you trust me?"

Dan said he would. Then Mrs. Nickels told me about the days when Dan's father had managed a productive farm, when Dan and his mother had lived well. She obviously missed her husband a lot. Why did his uncle have to come and ruin it all, I wondered?

"If Uncle Bill's stealing from us, he belongs in jail."

"Just hang in there," said Mrs. Nickels. "I think I can find a way for us all to be happy if I can just get him to listen to reason. He's in a bad position right now. He'll either listen to reason or he'll break the law. If he breaks the law, then we can talk about calling the police."

"But Mom," started Dan.

"Danny," she explained patiently, "your uncle is my brother. I love him. I pray every day that he will choose to get well. It's like he's sick, Danny. He's sick with things he thinks will make him happy but are really making him miserable."

"He's stupid."

"He's deceived."

"Money means more to him than you or me."

"I suppose that is true," said Mrs. Nickels sadly. "Just trust me, though. I need to do this my way."

"Okay, Mom," Dan smiled. "I trust you. But you trust me, too."

"One thing we have in our favor is that the deed to all this land is in my name. Bill can take all the money he wants, but he'll never get the land."

"Has he tried to, Mom?"

Mrs. Nickels stood up and began clearing the table.

"Has he? Is that what all the fighting has been about?"

Mrs. Nickels didn't answer.

"Mom!"

Dan's mother turned around and put her arms around Dan. Too often I could hear yelling and screaming coming from Dan's house. Dan told me he called her names, and threatened her but Dan could never figure out why. Did he want the land? Did he think he could just bully her into signing over the deed? Mrs. Nickels hugged her son tightly. "He'll never get the land," she said quietly. She would not tell Dan anything more and I could see what Mrs. Nickels could not: that her silence frightened him.

After dinner, we left the house. We sat by the little fountain pond in my backyard until it grew dark. I started talking about Angel's father. "Dad said his leg was broken so badly that he was lucky the broken bone did not sever an artery or damage the muscle. He has a good chance of walking again."

"I hope he does," said Dan.

"He will," I answered.

"But how do you know?"

"God will help him. I've already prayed really hard for him and so has my mom."

"What good will that do?"

"Don't you believe in Jesus, Dan?" I asked.

Dan shrugged. "I guess so, but sometimes I think he was just a smart man who lived long time ago."

I looked up at the stars. "God made all of those stars and our whole world and He loves us. He sent his son so that we could understand how to live with Him forever. When I look up at the sky and see how pretty it is, I know that He is all around us just like the night is all around us now."

Dan looked up into the sky. "Why did He make it, though?"

"He made it for you, so you could look at it and know Him and know that He loves you. If you put your trust in God, He will help you. Believe Jesus and try to follow what he said, and then He can work in your life."

"My life is too messed up, Faith. And, I'm not really church material. I mean, look at me and all my problems. I hate my uncle. God doesn't like people who hate."

"I'm sure you don't really hate him--"

"Oh, yes I do. I think about killing him so he's out of our life forever. I think about murder and I'm just a kid."

I could hear the sob caught in his throat. What could I say? 'Revenge is mine saith the Lord,' was all I could think of and I couldn't say that. "God will take care of your mean uncle, and he will help you, too, so you don't think about things you shouldn't. Besides, none of us are good enough for God. That's why Jesus went to the cross, because we never will be good enough. If you have to wait until you think you are good like God, you'll be waiting all your life."

"Thanks, Faith, I think."

I heard my mother calling. "I need to go in. Let's meet at the cave tomorrow."

From the kitchen window I watched Dan sit on the swing and look at the sky. He stayed there a long time. Finally, I talked my mom into letting me back out. I ran over to him.

"I need more help than just you and Judy," he said. "I'll do it, Faith. I'll put my trust in God." He took my hand and I sat down beside him while he prayed. "I need help Jesus. My life is full of trouble and I feel so angry all the time. I am sorry. Please be my savior like you are for Faith. My mother needs your help, too, and I need a job. I can bring some money in for the basic stuff we need if you will just help me get that job delivering newspapers. Me and Mom are helpless against Uncle Bill and he is mean, God. Please protect us from him. Amen."

Dan went back home. His prayer seemed desperate to me, almost without hope. I was astonished that he had prayed aloud in front of me. I don't think I could have prayed in front of him like that. The next day he told me that when he walked back home, he opened the door to his mother's bedroom and prayed over her while she slept. He said, "For her everything turns to black when the sun goes down. Then she is completely blind and she goes right to sleep." Dan took my hand like he had last nigh. "I just said a very simple prayer. I said, 'This is my mother. Please help her.' And that's all I said. As soon as I said it I knew God was beside and around my mom, just as you said, like a great and powerful presence hovering in the room. He filled the space of my mother's lonely bedroom like a flower's fragrance fills a garden. I never felt so happy." Dan kissed my cheek and thanked me.

***

Discussion Questions: Faith believes that God will answer her prayers because He loves her. How do we know that God loves us? Look up 1 John 4:9&10.

### Chapter 11

During lunch a few weeks later Dan let his secret slip out to my mom. After he introduced me to Mrs. Nickels, the next afternoon I introduced Dan to my mom. Soon Dan started eating lunch at our house every day. I showed him around all the rooms, including the little porch on the roof that Mom and I found the day we got here. Dan loved to go up there and look out at the scenery. We went up there a lot.

Mom made sure she didn't press him about his family. She rarely asked him questions and only if it would have been rude not to. I could tell my mom really liked Dan. I could not believe what Judy said about him not having any friends at school but apparently, Dan had changed. The more Mr. McCrery stayed away, the more Dan relaxed.

My mom made Dan two sandwiches, usually grilled cheese with tomato and mayonnaise, his favorite, and just about every day. In fact my mom told me, "If you don't bring that boy home for lunch every afternoon, you better have a good reason." That's how much she liked him.

The day after the fourth of July Judy Dan, Sonny, Mom, and I sat around the table eating leftover hot dogs and hamburgers with corn-on-the-cob and potato salad. We laughed and joked about which fireworks were the best. Mom asked Dan if he had seen them. Dan said, "Oh sure. I see them every year and I have the best seat anyone could ever have to see them." Dan referred to the cliff just above Mike's cave where you could see the whole sky and the valley below.

"I didn't see you at the fair grounds but I don't doubt you saw them. You seem to be the kind of person who never misses a thing and always gets what he needs," my mom said.

"That's true," Dan swallowed. "In fact, I bet I could live out in the woods and never need anything."

"You'd have to have a place to sleep."

"Got it."

"Some place where you'd be safe from foxes and bears."

"Got it."

"And you'd have to eat."

"I'll come here to eat just as I always do." Dan could even open the refrigerator any time he wanted and grab whatever.

"You'd get lonely."

"Got Mike." He slapped his hand over his mouth right after he said it. That's how he let his secret slip. My mom is crafty.

"Who's Mike?" She asked.

No one would answer. Judy and I looked as if we no longer spoke or understood the English language and Dan looked absolutely petrified.

"Okay," said Mom in that no nonsense voice, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," said Dan.

"Are we talking opposites?" asked my mom. This is where her mom skills really kicked in.

"No." Dan said firmly.

"That means yes. Let's see. You have Mike to keep you company out in the forest. That would mean Mike is something alive and friendly."

Dan shook his head his head in disbelief at how close she was getting to the truth. I covered my face with my hands and just shook my head. Dan was sinking fast.

"Hm-m-m," My mom deliberated. "It couldn't be a person could it?"

"Yes," I said, thinking we could say it was a friend from one of the houses up the street.

"I didn't think so," Mrs. Heart admitted, still playing the opposite game.

"Mom," I yelled. I'd played this game before.

"I'm sorry," my mom relented. "I didn't know I was upsetting you. Actually, I've known something was up weeks ago."

"You did?" asked Dan.

Judy, as always, popped the most outrageous question, "Oh, why don't you just tell her?"

We stared at Judy, horrified by what she just said.

"Well, why don't you? Your mom won't care. She'll keep our secret."

"Now we have to tell her," said Dan.

My mom nodded and smiled. "Okay, I'm listening."

Dan looked very serious, like an adult would look. In some ways Dan acted like a young adult because he had a lot of adult problems. Mom never once asked him about that first day she had seen him at the door when he had claimed that no one could help him.

Now Dan trusted her, I thought. I looked at my mom's face and knew that she had prayed for this moment. Her eyes were shinning with that light that just says I love you no matter what. I felt not the slightest bit of jealousy. I felt proud and happy to be her daughter because I knew that once my mom looked at you like that, she loved you forever. You could be as prickly and mean spirited as you wanted and she would only respond to you in the nicest way. She had soft red hair and green eyes and a freckled face like mine, not really pretty like a model in a magazine but with this expression of love, she looked plain beautiful. She shined all over Dan and no way could he keep the secret from her.

"You have to promise to keep it a secret," he said to her.

"As long as you're doing nothing illegal or unsafe."

"We're not," he answered confidently.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay. Mike is a dog. He's my dog, only I keep him in a cave."

My mom smiled and then started to laugh. "So that's where you're taking all that food, Faith."

"You knew?"

"Yes. You don't think I notice when a whole half a chicken is suddenly missing from my refrigerator?"

I shrugged. Actually, I hadn't.

"You can breathe a sigh of relief. I won't tell," said Mom.

"Do you want to meet him?" asked Dan.

"Of course."

We decided we would bring Mike down from the woods to show Mom that afternoon. I could hardly wait. We tumbled out of the house in a rush, stepping on each other's heels in our hurry to make it to the cave.

Mike barked wildly and wagged his tail, rushing from side to side as he watched the three of us tearing up the hill towards him. He grew big enough now to be able to stand on his back legs and see over the side of the cave. Usually he knew right away when we were coming. I think he could hear us or smell us. Or, maybe he smelled the food we usually brought but in our hurry to show mom our wonderful dog Mike, we had forgotten the food today. When we rolled the stone away from the back entrance, Mike sniffed our pockets and shirts frantically.

"Come on, boy," said Dan, ready to run right back down the mountain.

"Wait," exclaimed Judy. "I've got to catch my breath."

"Me, too." I gasped. "You're in much better shape than we are. Just give us a second." We sat on a nearby fallen log with Mike barking at us. I used to pray that I could talk to animals, just one of the many outrageous prayers I liked to say, and today I realized God had not answered my prayer for a good reason: I knew Mike yelled at us for forgetting his food.

Dan stroked the dog to calm him. "Are you ready yet?" he asked the girls.

"Look it there, Dan," I said, standing up at the rare sound of a car coming up the rutted road, and the sight of red flashing through the trees. It was the same truck I'd seen that first day at Dan's house. "Is that your uncle?"

The truck swerved back and forth on the dirt road at a maddening pace. Dan's whole demeanor changed as he watched the truck go by on the road several yards away. His back tensed and his face grew sharp and angry, "I hope he wrecks it."

"He's drunk," Judy said.

"Look at him go! Do you think there's some emergency up at the farms?"

"If there is it's his own emergency. He doesn't help people," Dan spat.

"Why do think he's taking a chance like that?" asked Judy.

"He's probably drunk and mad."

"It was a good thing we rested or he would've seen us." He could've easily hit one of us or run over Mike.

"I hate him," said Dan. "How I hate him."

"You shouldn't say that, even if it is true. You should try not to hate him. God doesn't want you to hate people." I didn't want Dan to become hateful.

"I can't help it," said Dan angrily. "I try not to but he's crazy. I know he is. He's let himself become that way. He's really mad about something and scared, too. I thought he'd left for good after what he did a couple of nights ago. He really scared me and my mom out of our wits."

"What did he do?"

"He came home late in a temper as usual. And he started throwing stuff and breaking all the figurines my mom collects. She has a whole cabinet of them. Some of them my dad gave to her. I was asleep in my room when I heard him yelling. I heard stuff smashing against the wall. I didn't know what was going on. I got up and went downstairs and he...." Dan's face had gotten all red and he was shaking with anger. Tears strained to fall but he blinked them away.

"And what, Dan?" I urged him to tell us.

Judy put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "What did he do?"

"He was trying to find something he thought Mom had put in one of those figurines. A lot of them are hollow and she had hidden something in them. But it was gone. I think my mother hid it some place else, whatever it was. I don't know, she wouldn't tell me. She was huddled up in the corner like a kid and he was throwing the figurines at her."

"At her?"

Dan nodded.

"Why didn't you call the police?" asked Judy.

"We don't have a phone, remember?"

"Oh, yeah. That's so weird you don't have a phone," Judy said.

"No it's not. He won't let us have one. We're his prisoners. He can do anything he wants." Dan shouted. He picked up a stick and smacked a tree so hard with it that Mike cowered at his feet. He wiped his eyes. "My mother looked just like Mike looks now," he said, meaning the way the dog was huddled in fear. "I hate him!"

"There must be something we can do," said Judy desperately.

"There is." I spoke very quietly and they both turned to look at me.

"What?"

"We can tell my mom. We'll tell her everything. She'll know what to do."

"Maybe," said Dan. He took a ragged breath. I thought he might fall down and sob but he held strong. "Yeah, let's tell her."

My mom was waiting outside. She waved to us walking down the road. Her face grew grim as we approached her. We were walking closely together in support of one another. Dan's uncle had given us a scare. I could see by the confused expression on my mother's face when she saw us that she probably wondered what could have changed our happy moods.

Even Mike walked somberly with his tail down. "Here he is," I said. "This is Dan's dog, Mike."

The dog sat beside Mike and would not move though he allowed mom to pet him. "My goodness, I've never seen a dog trained so well. He doesn't jump up or wag his tail."

This comment brought a smile to Dan's face. "Thank you. I'm going to give the dog to my mother. I'm hoping Mike will help her get around better and protect her."

"Is your mother having trouble getting around?"

"She's blind."

My mom drew back in surprise. She sat back on her heels and looked at Dan. "Blind? I never knew. I'm sorry. What a fine son you are to want to give her your dog."

"Mom, we have a lot to tell you," I admitted, trying to prepare her. I could tell Dan wanted to blurt it all out at once.

Judy slipped her hand into Dan's.

Dan nodded.

My mom said gently, "What is it, Dan? Tell me and I will help you if I can."

"Take your time, Dan," I told him.

We sat in a circle on the grass and Dan began his story. Mike lay down beside him as Dan spoke. Dan kept his eyes on his dog and talked softly, "My dad died in a car accident four years ago. Everything changed then. My uncle moved in with us." From there Dan went on to describe how Bill McCrery's management of the farm had brought Dan and his mom to the brink of poverty. Then he told Mom his sad story about his uncle's temper. Judy and I wiped tears from our eyes as he described the scene again.

"Is there anything you can do, Mrs. Heart?" asked Judy when Dan finished.

My mom shook her head worriedly, "I don't know. I would like to have Faith's father take a look at your mother's eyes. It might be we could help her that way. I will need to talk to him about your uncle and what might be done there to make your life a little easier."

"Thank you," said Dan quietly.

My mom put her arms around Dan. "I think it is a wonderful idea to give your mom this dog."

"Really?" asked Dan.

My mother nodded.

Dan stood up, shaking off his worry and turning from his troubles to his dog. I admired him for this because I knew it took a lot of inner strength to not just sit here and soak in Mom's affection and sympathy. The more I knew about Dan, the more I respected him and valued our friendship. I could tell Judy did too and I wondered if she could keep all this from her parents. Judy had kept the secret pretty well but in truth, I knew Judy liked to tell secrets more than keep them.

"Let me show you how we've trained her," said Dan, pulling out a rope harness and putting it on Mike. "Now, I'm going to pretend I'm blind. I'm going to head straight for that low-lying branch over there," he said pointing. He closed his eyes and, grabbing the harness, he and the dog began walking straight for the branch, which would surely hit Dan right in the face. My mom watched the dog swerve away as he approached the low-hanging branch and gently lead Dan around it.

"My goodness, how did you teach him that?"

"It was easy, Mom," I answered. "Every time the dog led us into anything that would be in our way, we yelled 'Watch Out' real loud and then we hit what was ever in the way."

"Dan has a dog training book that he got from the library," added Judy.

"Now watch this," said Dan and he steered the dog towards the porch steps. Just as they were about to approach the steps, Mike suddenly sat down. "When he sits like this my mom will know that she has to step up or down."

"He even does it for sidewalks," said Judy.

My mom told us that we had taught the dog very well and that we were lucky to have such a calm dog. "A dog trained this well would cost hundreds of dollars," she said. "I can see too, how well Mike responds to affection and that you trained him in a very loving manner."

After a full show of all that Mike could do, we sat on the grass around my mother, smiling and giggling as if nothing were wrong. We put complete faith in her, hoping she would fix everything but I think Dan felt something more. He suddenly rested his head on her shoulder and quietly linked his arm in hers. He looked up at her. My mom tenderly stroked his face and hugged him. I knew then that whatever little help we could give him meant so much to him. We had already helped Dan just by giving him someone he could talk with.

Later that evening, I heard my mom tell Dad, "It is obvious to me that God has called on me to help the Nickels. It's not just you that God has called here. He's called all of us."

Dad answered, "How can you be sure?"

"Because I don't just feel like I should help Dan, I long to help him."

I felt the same way.

***

Discussion Questions: When you are in trouble, who do you talk to? Have you ever had a time when you felt like there was no one to talk to? Dan felt like that until he met Faith and her mom. Jesus is someone we can always turn to in prayer. Look up 1 Peter 5:7.

### Chapter 12

Two weeks later Dan told me that Bill McCrery ordered the sharecroppers to harvest the peaches. Much of the crop already ruined by neglect, he did manage to fill his truck with about ten bushels of peaches. These he would sell at the farmers market and with all that money, his uncle would be gone for a while.

We stood in my yard as his uncle's red truck barreled down the dirt road, loaded with the peaches. "I hope you never come back," Dan yelled, shaking his fist as it bounce away.

As soon as his uncle rounded the turn and disappeared, Dan took off on foot up the rutted road. "Wait," I cried, running after him. "Are you taking Mike today?"

Dan turned around and waved me along with him. All the anger vanished from his face. "Yes! I can't wait to surprise her. Come, on," he said, hurrying up the hill. Dan knew his uncle would not like the dog. For one, it would cost money to feed it. Two, the dog would be helping his mom get around which his uncle would not like. And, three, the dog would protect her which his uncle would surely not stand for. "Mike'd probably bite Uncle Bill," laughed Dan.

"Can I come? I mean, can I come in your house and watch you give Mike to her?" I asked.

"Sure. She doesn't like anyone to come in because she's always afraid the house is a mess but I think it will be okay today. She won't even think about the messy house when she finds out she has a seeing-eye dog!"

We arrived at the cave. Dan rolled the stone away and pulled out a bag of day-old hot dogs. Breaking off pieces for Mike to eat, he said, "I'm kind of scared, to tell you the truth. What if she's afraid of him?"

"I don't think she could be. Or, if she was, she wouldn't be for long." I stroked Mike's soft fur. "He's such a nice dog." Mike wagged his tail and licked my face as if the dog knew I'd just paid him a compliment. "Maybe we should bathe him before we bring him over."

"That's a good idea. Can we bathe him at your house?"

"Sure. I don't see why not."

Mike followed us obediently, wagging his tail and catching pieces of hot dogs that Dan threw at him as they walked down the mountain. My mom filled a large metal bucket full of water and brought out her best shampoo. It smelled like roses. "Try to get him to stand in the water," Mom said, pouring a pot of hot water into the cold to take off the chill.

Dan pointed to the tub of water, "Come, on, Mike. In you go!"

Mike sat on the grass, wagging his tail, but would not hop into the tub of soapy water.

"Come on, now. In you go," Dan ordered.

The dog stretched his paws on the grass and whimpered.

"Mike, come on. In."

"I don't think he knows what you mean," I explained. "Maybe you should show him"

"Okay. That's a great idea." Dan stepped in the tub himself. "Come on, Mike."

"Wait, I'm getting in, too," I laughed.

When Mike saw us standing in the tub, he wagged his tail and jumped over the side and into the tub, knocking Dan over so that we were all sopping wet. I grabbed the shampoo and squirted the dog. "Hey, cut that out," said Dan laughing at Mike shaking off the shampoo so that it sprayed us. Pretty soon we had suds from head to foot, falling all over Mike in an effort to wash him, and making us all smell like roses.

"Now it's time for a rinse," said Mom, taking the hose and squirting us we ran around the yard. Mom let Sonny get into the game too. Mike ran around chasing us and licking us when we fell down. Mike often turned to lick Sonny's face, the big dog treating him like a little pup of his own. Mom smiled at the gentle dog. "I think he likes getting a bath."

"I think I do, too," said Dan.

Later on, resting and drying off in the hot summer sun, Mom brought out some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, one each for Sonny and me, two for Dan, and three for Mike. The children ate, laughing happily as they threw pieces of food at Mike, watching him display his training by sitting quietly until he received a hand signal indicating he could walk over and eat the portion of sandwich lying on the ground a foot in front of him.

When we dried off, Dan stood up and said, "Well, I guess I better give her the dog. Okay, Mike?"

Mike stood beside his master and wagged his tail.

"I'll be right here if you need me," said Mom.

"And I'm coming with you, right?"

Dan nodded. He took a deep breath. "Thank you, Mrs. Heart," he said and then we turned around and walked across the yard towards Dan's house.

Mrs. Nickels sat on the porch in the rickety old rocking chair, knitting a baby blanket for one of the young mothers who lived up the road. Her lips moved silently, counting her stitches as she fingered them. She grew still and looked our way. I realized her sense of smell and her hearing was acute. She had a look of fear at first but then she smiled and asked, "Who's that with you?"

"Remember Faith Heart, our neighbor? Can she come up?"

Mrs. Nickels nodded kindly. "But who else?"

Dan gave me a quick glance. "There's no one else."

"Yes, there is. I can hear something and see a bit of a shadow as well." Her expression became concerned. "Is that a dog you've got?"

"Yes, ma'am. A special dog."

"How special?" She smiled, not at all afraid. "What did he do, get in the flowers? He smells like a garden." She reached her hand out for Mike to smell.

Cautiously, Mike sniffed the outstretched hand. His tail began to wag. "Come on up closer," said Mrs. Nickels to the dog, patting her lap so the dog would come. Mike drew himself up right beside her and gently put his big head in her lap, his tail wagging all the time.

"He's a big dog. Where did you find him?"

"I found him up at the sharecroppers last spring. They were going to drown him but I saved him. Do you like him?"

"Yes. He's a good one. But where have you kept him all this time? It's the puppies they drown, not big ones like this."

"Up in the woods," Dan answered. "Ma, he's yours. I brought him up and trained him for you."

Mrs. Nickels lifted her face in her son's direction, her eyes searching. I saw again how her eyes looked like they were filmy, bluish white, with hardly a pupil, but they filled with tears like any other. "You're giving the dog to me?"

"Yes, Ma. He'll help you see." Dan stood by his mother biting his lower lip nervously. He looked so awkward and nervous.

"You trained him yourself? Just for me? You are full of kindness, Danny. I love you." She stretched out her arms to her son and hugged him. I felt like the awkward one now, as the two hugged, laughing at their sentimentality. "I'll treasure this day the rest of my life," said Mrs. Nickels, "but you know he won't let me keep a dog," she said of her brother.

"He's not here now," said Dan. "You should at least keep him while he's gone. I've got another place I can keep him if I have to." Dan pulled the rope from his pocket and harnessed the dog. "Come on and walk with him and I'll show you how I trained him."

Mrs. Nickels put her knitting aside and took the leash. Immediately, Mike stood up beside her. The dog seemed to know that this moment fulfilled all his previous days of training. He stood perfectly calm. "Now walk towards the edge of the porch," said Dan, pointing her in the right direction.

Mrs. Nickels walked forward, knowing herself how many steps away lay the edge of the porch. Just at the edge, Mike stepped in front of her and sat down stubbornly. "He knows!" said Mrs. Nickels, "and he's protecting me from falling. What a smart dog! You trained him well."

Mrs. Nickels turned away from the steps and Mike hopped back up on his feet. Though she knew where the door was, she began to head in the wrong direction until Mike gently pulled her back and led her to where she could walk through the door easily.

"Let's go inside and see what he does," said Dan's mother excitedly. She laughed as Mike obediently nudged her away from walking into tables and chairs. He took her through the house safely and in the end, even led her to a chair where she could sit down. Mrs. Nickels smiled broadly, her face full of joy. "He's a very special dog. I can't believe how well you trained him for me, son. You couldn't have made me happier."

Mrs. Nickels played with Mike, testing his skill. We walked all over, even into the woods. Mike showed off and made us both so proud of him. It seemed like Mike suddenly knew that he was born to protect Mrs. Nickels. Finally, Mrs. Nickels knelt on the floor and wrapped her arms around Mike in deep gratitude. "What a good dog he is!" she said over and over again.

Late in the afternoon, I returned home and told Mom about Mrs. Nickels. "She's so nice and I can tell she really loves Mike. I feel so sorry for her that she can't see. She said right away that Mr. McCrery wouldn't let them keep a dog. It was like they both knew that they had this short time to have Mike and be, I don't know, happy."

Mom shook her head, "There must be something we can do about that awful man."

"You wouldn't believe their house. It is so run down and ugly. It's nice and clean but it's practically falling down on them."

"I'm sure Mrs. Nickels has trouble keeping up the house when she has no money. She should have someone coming in to fix a few things for her." Mom told me she prayed for her neighbors, not only for Mrs. Nickels and Dan, but for all of those who lived up the road and who were under the authority of Mr. McCrery. "I always ask God to give us an opportunity to help them. Maybe there's something we can do."

*

The next few days I often saw Dan with his mother holding on to Mike, taking walks in the woods, and along the creek side. I thought of all those times I pretended to be Mrs. Nickels, teaching the dog to protect her from protruding rocks and low-hanging branches. I felt a sense of loss at not having those days back, a dose of jealousy at watching them all being given to Mrs. Nickels now, but I knew I shouldn't. I can't be jealous of them when they have so little, I told myself. I didn't want to be jealous of someone so desperately in need of what I had been given freely.

I didn't mean to spy on them, either, but one day while in the woods, I spotted Dan and his mother visiting the other farmers up the road. I took that as a good sign. Mrs. Nickels needed to socialize. She had a kind disposition and she needed to step out of her grief. I recalled the fun we had with Angel and the kittens and it made me feel so lonely I started to miss even Judy, who had been away at summer camp.

However, I missed Dan a lot more. I had played with him almost every day of the summer and now that he wanted to spend a few days with his mom, I knew I should leave them alone. I ignored my jealous feelings. I would not let myself think like that and I would turn my thoughts to something else the minute I started feeling jealous. These happy days for Dan and his mother were numbered.

I tried to catch up on my reading about Captain Milner which turned out to be interesting. I read all about his involvement with the Underground Railroad, his logging and ship building business and even a little about his early days as a captain. Captain Milner had been a very industrious man.

Then one evening in the middle of August, I saw Mrs. Nickels walking by herself with Mike in tow. I sat on the patio with my father. "Look, Dad, there she is. I'm sure she can't even see shadows this late. She's trusting completely in Mike."

"It is an amazing thing you and Dan did with that dog."

"You should see her eyes. They look like some one squirted a layer of Elmer's white glue in them."

My dad stared at me for a full minute, "Faith, honey, does it look like there's something floating over them?"

I nodded, "Yes. Exactly."

"I wonder if the poor woman has cataracts."

"What are they?"

"Something we might be able to remove, something that with an operation could restore her sight."

"Really?"

"I'd have to bring her in for an examination. Did she ever say what she had that caused her blindness?"

"Dan said she used to see fine but her sight got blurrier and blurrier and his uncle would never let her go to a doctor."

Mom came out with Sonny and suggested, "Why don't you ask Dr. Riley to come and take a look the next time he drives through here? Unless he could see her sooner than that, and I could just bring her into his office."

Dad shook his head. "No, let's wait until he comes out here on his charitable rounds. That way, if she has cataracts and she needs an operation, we can take what we need out of that hospital fund that is set for just that. I imagine she has no hope of paying for it and I'm certain she doesn't have insurance," he said, settling the matter.

That evening I lay in bed thinking of Mrs. Nickels. I wondered at the cruelty of Mr. McCrery in letting his sister grow blind, not even allowing her to go to the doctor. I recalled how Dan had come down into the kitchen and seen his mother stooped in a corner with broken figurines lying all around her. I couldn't imagine a violent life like that. How horrible it must be for them, I thought. No wonder they are so happy to be together while her brother is away. Please, God, I prayed, let my daddy help Dan and his mother.

I remembered Mrs. Nickels said she had a plan for her brother and I wondered what it could be. Mrs. Nickels said her plan involved helping her brother. I knew that both gambling and alcohol could be addictive. We had learned about addiction in school. I wondered at a person like Mrs. Nickels who could love someone as hateful as her brother, and I told God as much, "After all he's done to her, and all she wants to do is help him." I pleaded to God, "Surely we can at least help her get her eyesight back."

***

Discussion Questions: The affects of addiction to drugs and alcohol can be devastating to a family. What are some of the affects of Mr. McCrery's behavior on his family and the immigrant farmers who live up the road? Look up Proverbs 23:19-21.

### Chapter 13

Early the next morning I returned to the Captain's monument. It seemed a peaceful place to me. I could hear the birds chirping. The rising sun peeked over the forest behind me, shedding a beautiful pink glow on the drawing of the captain's face above the words.

"Where did you hide that secret treasure, anyway, Captain Milner?" I believed in the legend. I knew the Captain hid a treasure somewhere. Last night I'd finished the book Dad got from the library. It described Captain Milner as a secretive man, a man who had pirates as friends, and a man who left in the middle of the night for days and returned without a word of explanation.

I could not write the words down without a pencil. The word 'hunter' stood out, highlighted by the sun, or maybe it was just the sparkle of the granite that made the word stand out more than the other words. I looked up at the beginning of the sentence and read:

Deliver thyself as a roe from the hand of the hunter, and as a bird from the hand of the fowler.

What was 'a roe from the hand of the hunter' and 'a bird from the hand of a fowler'? What did 'deliver thyself' mean? It did have a religious sound to it. I recognized the citation, Proverbs 6:5. At least I knew Proverbs was a book in the Bible, and if I could not remember the verse, I could remember the location Proverbs 6:5.

Back home I told my mother, "I want go over to the library and look up some more stuff on Captain Milner."

"I can't complain about my daughter wanting to go to the library."

"No one believes there really is a treasure. What do you think, Mom?"

"I thought you'd forgotten about all that." She handed me a plate of pancakes.

"Mike might have side tracked me a little but I still believe there is a treasure around here somewhere." I sat down with Sonny and ate.

"I guess you miss Dan."

I nodded. "I'm happy to have some place to go, even to just the library."

At the library, Ms. Smart kept her biggest dictionary on a podium. I stared at the tremendous size of the book. I felt smart just looking at it. On the edges were gold thumbnails indicating where the beginnings of new alphabetized words began. I started with roe first since it was a short word and would probably be the easier to find than 'fowler'. I turned the book to the gold thumbnail with the letter "R" on it. The pages weighed heavily in my hand even though they were onion skin thin. I knew I must find R-O next but it seemed to be missing. It took me almost fifteen minutes to finally find the place where the R-o words began. If looking at the book made me feel smart, paging through it sure made me feel stupid. I couldn't even find a little three letter word. Over and over I turned the pages. There were zillions of words that started with R-o. I wanted to give up when I suddenly found the word: Roe. A lump of sheer disappointment ran down my throat and burst in my stomach with such bitterness that it made me burp. Two and a half a pages of definitions on the word Roe! "I'll never find out what it means," I gasped, hunching over the book in frustration.

"What's a matter, Faith?"

I looked up at Mrs. Smart. She must've heard me. "I can't understand this book. It's too hard."

"This is the unabridged dictionary. It has every known word in the English language contained in it. It isn't the regular dictionary that most people would use. That's why you are frustrated. What word are you looking up? Maybe I can help you."

"Roe."

"You mean row, like rowing a boat?"

"No. I mean roe like deliver thyself as a roe from the hand of the hunter." I had memorized the verse after all.

"What?"

"It was written on Captain Milner's wall."

"Oh, you mean Proverbs 6?"

"Yes," I said, surprised that Ms. Smart knew the verse and the number of the Proverb.

"Well, a roe is a type of deer that they used to hunt for food back in those days. What it means is, well, it means...hm-m-m. How can I explain this?" Ms. Smart took a minute to think and then said, "Did you ever find yourself in trouble, Faith?"

"Yes."

"And did you ever feel trapped because of it? Kind of like, there was no way out of it and yet you knew you had to get away or you would be forever in the wrong?"

"Yes." Sometimes I felt like that around Judy.

"That is what the writer of Proverbs is saying. Trouble will hunt you down like a hunter hunts a deer. And, as long as you do the wrong things in life then you can expect to have bad things happen to you. Instead, you should free yourself from doing wrong things. You must trust God who will guide you into right thinking and get you out of that kind of trouble or situation. Do you understand?"

I nodded shyly thinking of the episode at church when Judy and I stole the cookies and hid in the attic. "Is that what "deliver thyself as a bird from the hand of the fowler means, too?"

Ms. Smart smiled, "Yes. You are certainly a smart girl. Sometimes in Proverbs or the Psalms they will write the same idea twice in a row. A fowler is a person who handles birds. It is as if trouble is a fowler and he's got you by the throat as if you were a bird. You must fly away, free yourself of such trouble."

"But why did Captain Milner write that on his wall?"

Ms. Smart took some time to think. "There was a time in our history when people were not doing the right things."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Captain Milner was an abolitionist. He didn't believe that slavery was right. He captained ships across the Atlantic and saw the buying and selling of slaves at the ports where he docked. It was a horrible sight to him, enough to make him quit being a captain." Ms. Smart showed me to a small room in the library where there were hundreds of old books. She opened one of the glass cases with a key that hung around her neck, picked up the book on display inside, and gave it to me. On the front was a picture of the captain in front of a pile of lumber and a ship that was only half completed. In this photo the captain looked very stern with a long gray beard and a head of white hair.

Mrs. Smart left me for a moment to make a phone call while I thumbed through the book and looked at the sketches of how slaves were transported across the ocean. They were so disturbing that I had to close the book. I could understand why Captain Milner gave up shipping. When Ms. Smart returned, she explained, "With the money he earned as a captain, he bought this lumberyard, several thousand acres of land and built a house. Instead of commandeering ships, he built them."

"What about the hidden treasure?"

"I'm not sure there is one, Faith."

"I think there is."

Ms. Smart laughed, "I'm glad you do. I did too when I was your age. Are you still hunting for it?"

"Yes, I am now. Do you think this book will help me find it?"

"Not really, but it will explain to you the kind of man Captain Milner was." Ms. Smart motioned me to follow her. The librarian led me to another glass cabinet, a desk with a glass top that did not open but preserved and protected an old map. "This is a map of our town in the year 1862."

"Wow! Is that my house?"

Ms. Smart nodded. "The area around your house was part of the Underground Railroad; at least that is what people think. Captain Milner was a very active abolitionist."

"There's the river," I said pointing at the map. The dam had not been built yet.

"That was the Lacawalla River when it ran through our town. Captain Milner used that river to move his ships to haul lumber. Runaway slaves also used his ships and the river to escape to freedom."

Mom and Sonny came into the historical room. "What are you doing here?"

"Ms. Smart invited me. She said you were interested in finding out more about the Captain." Mom sat down beside me at the table.

"I asked your mom to come because Captain Milner's past deals with difficult issues and I didn't want you to be upset after you looked through that book, especially since you are living in his house. And, I wanted to make sure it was all right with your mother that I tell you a part of our history that is, well, not exactly text book material."

I hadn't the slightest idea what 'text book material' meant but I knew she had a big secret.

"You know I said that Captain Milner saw the buying and selling of slaves at the ports where he docked?"

I nodded.

"Well, Captain Milner saw this happening because he was part of it. Several times his ship owners forced him to haul slaves on his ship."

"He sold slaves?"

"He hauled cotton, tea, spices and other goods back and forth, but often African slaves were requested as part of the shipment. He found it harder and harder to avoid. Finally, he made up his mind to give up shipping all together and moved to Pennsylvania. He bought land and invested in a lumber company in Philadelphia. He used every cent he had to help free the slaves, even buying them and paying them to work in his lumberyard. After a reasonable time, the slaves could buy their freedom. It was a good plan, but not enough. The author of that book I showed you believes that Captain Milner became involved in the Underground Railroad," said Ms. Smart, pointing at the book with Captain Milner's picture on it. "That book only guesses at the captain's involvement. There is no real proof. The captain was an unhappy man during his life, as many were in that time of history. That is why he had Proverbs 6 carved on his grave."

"Is that what that big stone wall is up near my house? That's a grave?"

Ms. Smart nodded. "That's Captain Milner's grave. Oh, he was a great man, Faith. It takes a great man to discern right from wrong and do something about it."

"It's important to remember, too, Faith," my mom added, "that God forgives even the worst sinner. And if God does, then we should, too. Don't you think so?"

I nodded, knowing the truth of it and knowing that admitting your wrongs is hard. I also knew that forgiving yourself for the misery you have caused others is hard, maybe the hardest thing, like when I embarrassed Mom and Dad at church. "Did he ever feel like he had done enough?"

"I don't know," answered Ms. Smart. "I know that he was much like Saint Paul. He had a strong conversion. Do you know the song, Amazing Grace?"

"Yes." We sing that song in church.

"That song was written by John Newton, who lived nearly a hundred years earlier than Captain Milner. The author had been a slave trader. He realized what a sin it was to treat other humans so miserably and he wrote that song as a tribute to God's grace, knowing that God forgave him and helped him to understand wrong from right. I believe Captain Milner was much like that man."

"Was the woman who lived in our house Captain Milner's granddaughter?"

"She was his great granddaughter, a direct descendant, but there are other Milners. In the house behind yours, where Dan Nickels lives, his mother is a cousin of the Milners. Captain Milner had that house built for his sister. People believe that she often hid slaves in that house as well, but again there is no proof. He had that house made for her when she married a man from Ireland, Mr. McCrery. They had five children, most of whom died from diphtheria, except for one, William. He married and had two children, Dan's mother and Bill McCrery. Now they live in that house."

"Mr. McCrery is not very nice," I noted. "I wonder what Captain Milner would think about how Mr. McCrery bullies his family and the people who live up on the mountain."

"I'm sure the captain would not like it one bit. You're right about that, Faith." Ms. Smart looked over at my mom, talking to her more than me. "Bill McCrery's always been bitter that his father did not leave him the farm. His father chose his daughter over his son. I guess he realized that his son had a few problems." Ms. Smart patted me on the hand, "I hope we can do something to help your friend's mother. We certainly are proud of how you and Dan have helped her. She was a recluse after her husband's death. I don't think anyone realized she had become handicapped."

"She's blind."

Ms. Smart nodded. "Yes, I heard about that. We are so fortunate that you moved into our town. Your father operated on my daughter's friend last week. Your father is a very skillful man. We're lucky to have him."

A line formed at the information desk and Ms. Smart asked, "Do you have any other questions about Captain Milner, Faith?"

"Just one, do you know why there is a legend about the treasure?"

"Just before he died he sold much of his land to the government, who wanted to dam the river. He demanded payment in gold coins. We have a record of the transaction, but the gold was never found after he died. Some people think he hid it. Others think he just gave it away." Ms. Smart got up. "Okay?"

I nodded. "Just one more question. Do you know where he hid it?"

Ms. Smart chuckled at my joke. "If I knew, I'd be booking a cruise to Hong Kong right now."

Mom and I stayed at the library to read Captain Milner's book which had only 38 pages, many of them pictures. I asked my mom why she thought the Captain looked so stern in the photo. "It's hard to live in a time when so much evil is going on," she explained, and I agreed. "No one smiled for a photo back then. Pictures were a serious thing."

Later I returned to Captain Milner's grave. I wondered about what Ms. Smart said regarding the Captain, how he had gotten caught up in something he knew was wrong. He changed from being a slave-trader to a man who offered kindness and help to the same people he once hurt. Ms. Smart said St. Paul did the same thing. St. Paul had a man named Stephen stoned to death for being a Christian. Then St. Paul heard the voice of Jesus and it changed him forever. I wondered about God, how he could do miracles like that, just change a person completely around, and I wondered if God would do something miraculous in the lives of Dan and his mother to free them from Mr. McCrery. Or maybe like the captain and St. Paul, God would change Mr. McCrery from a bad man into a good man.

Down the hill I saw Dan's mother rocking on the front porch while Dan played with Mike in the yard. They looked so happy. Judy and her family were coming over for dinner soon. Dan and Judy still had trouble getting along even though at times they seemed like good friends. Judy could be more trouble than help and that tended to annoy Dan. I knew my mother wanted me to get along with Judy but Dan didn't have to be friends with her. He got along with her for me.

I thought about whether I should help Mom with lunch and play with Sonny. Sonny learned a new game of throwing the ball down and bouncing it one time before catching it. I liked playing with him because he got so excited when he caught it. We also had a new game that we played in the dining room on the carved paneling. The carved forest scenes were fun to trace with our fingers. Sonny liked to take his matchbox cars and drive through the scenes of the forest.

I headed towards my house when Dan came running up with Mike.

"Hi, Faith," he called, waving as he ran.

For some odd reason I felt like pretending I'd never heard him, but I knew a jealous thought when I heard it. Instead I stopped and waved back.

"Sorry I haven't been around much."

Funny how Dan could read my mind. I shrugged.

"I guess it's been kind of boring for you this last week with no one to hang with."

"It's been okay. I went to the library today."

"Did you?" Dan read all the time.

"Yeah and I got some more information on Captain Milner." I told Dan all about how he had been caught up in the slave trade, how he had given it up, and how he started helping slaves escape instead.

"Wow," Dan said, "that's amazing. I didn't know all that about him. What else did you find out?"

"Ms. Smart told me that when the Captain sold his land to the government to build a dam, they paid him in gold coins. The coins were never found after he died and people believe he hid those coins somewhere."

"That means there must be a treasure. Gee, we're just through with one adventure and now we're on another." Dan's eyes lit up.

I felt excited when he said that, like we were the only two who believed in the treasure. "And that monument up there is really his grave."

"You mean he's dead under there?" Dan laughed at how he had never known that and thought of it as just a place where we could sit and enjoy the beautiful hilltop. "Ms. Smart told me you are a descendant of the captain."

Dan shrugged.

"How's your Mom?" I asked to be polite.

"She's cooking meat and potatoes. Me and Mike walked down to the store with her today. Do you know she's never been to the store in a whole year? Everyone was real nice to her and asked after her. It was great."

"I guess you got the paper delivery job?"

"Yeah."

Dan's money put food on the table. In my heart I thanked God. He even looked cleaner than I'd ever seen him, and his pants fit.

"I have a place to show you when I can, a really cool place up in the woods."

"But you've shown me everything. You showed me the cave, the peach orchard, the ancient forest, what else is there?"

"You won't believe your eyes when I show you. It's a little house made out of trees that's completely hidden. It's a special place for me. I've never shown anyone. Not even my mom. Besides, I miss getting together. I think you'd like it."

I patted Mike. "Okay." I knew I'd like it.

"Bye," he walked back toward his house and then turned around again. "Bye," he said.

"Bye." I watched him run down to his mother.

He missed me as much as I missed him. That made me feel better.

***

Discussion Questions: Is the Bible difficult to understand? What ways can we gain knowledge about scripture? Look up Acts 8:26-31.

### Chapter 14

I dipped a fork of roasted meat into the pile of mashed potatoes on my plate and ate happily while Judy bragged on, "I saw a piano in the mess hall and so I just sat down and played. I didn't make a single mistake and I got a standing ovation."

"That's very impressive," My mother cut her short.

"Does Faith play an instrument?" asked Dr. Smith.

"Faith's more of an outdoor person," my dad explained. "If she were to play an instrument it would be something she could play outside."

That's true, I thought.

"What kind of instrument can you play outside?" Judy asked.

"It would have to be a guitar or maybe a little flute. A little flute that fit in her pocket that she could pull out when she wanted to take a rest from hiking." Dad smiled at me.

"What would be the use of that if no one could hear her?" Judy asked.

"Purely for the pleasure of hearing it herself, I suppose," Mom said.

"Dan plays the harmonica sometimes. He does just as you say when he's resting. He keeps it in his pocket. He taught himself how to play and he's really good." Dan often played for me.

"Who is this Dan boy?" asked Mrs. Smith. "I've heard Judy mention his name several times this summer."

"Dan Nickels," said Judy. "Faith's boyfriend."

"He is not my boyfriend." I gave Judy a cross look which she deserved.

"They are just friends," My mom corrected Judy.

"You don't mean that awful boy who got in so much trouble last year for skipping school?" Mrs. Smith wrinkled her nose.

"Yup, that's the one," answered Judy.

My dad cleared his throat and asked Dr. Smith about a new hospital procedure for training interns.

I finished my food but I couldn't leave the table yet. I looked at the carved paneling, absently following the path with my eyes. The forest scenes in the paneling looked familiar. It looked like one of the maps Ms. Smart showed me at the library. I recognized the forest of oak trees in the ancient forest that Dan and Angel led me to the day Dad operated on Mr. Sanchez. My heart skipped a beat. Not all of it looked familiar but I figured a lot had changed since this carving had been created. However, the ancient forest looked exactly the same with the little pond and the spring. I could even see where the stream continued on further down, where it emptied into the Lacawalla River.

"Faith?" I was jolted out of my thoughts. I must've jumped a foot.

"Earth to Faith," Mom teased me. "Do you want dessert?"

I looked at the strawberry shortcake dripping with gooey strawberry sauce and topped with whipped cream. "Okay," I looked back at the mural. I never touched my dessert.

"Are you feeling well?" My mother whispered to me.

"I'm fine," the thrill of my discovery raising my voice an octave higher.

When the adults went out to the porch for coffee and conversation, Judy stayed behind in the dining room. My hopes fell. I wanted to examine the mural up close and alone. No way was I sharing this discovery with Judy.

"You can do whatever you want," I told Judy, who began complaining about having to clear the table. "You're our guest and you don't have to help. Why don't you go in the den and watch TV with Sonny?"

"We have a housekeeper who does the dishes for us."

I wished we had a housekeeper. I hated doing dishes. I hoped that Judy would go watch TV. Instead, she stayed in the dining room, looking at the mural herself. "What is this a picture of?"

"I don't know, trees and stuff." I felt a chill creep along my spine. In my mind I saw Judy running out to the adults and blabbing about the paneling. Why was she asking about the paneling? Judy must've seen me looking at it during dinner. I walked over to the part of the paneling where Judy stood and immediately recognized the cave where I first found Mike. I nearly dropped the plate I carried. It did not look exactly the same. The cave appeared larger in the paneling than in real life but it stood in the same location. I saw the steep cliff on the western side and to the south ran the Lacawalla River. I swallowed hard, and said, "All woods look alike."

Judy shrugged and seeing that I quickly returned to the work at hand, she wondered off into the back of the house to watch television with Sonny. I heaved a great sigh of relief.

I decided that I would show Dan the mural and find out what he thought. I did not dare look at the mural in the paneling again while Judy was around. She's a hard person to fool. Judy is very sneaky herself, and it would be just like Judy to see me looking again at the paneling and demand why. That would be awful. Then Judy would know how important my discovery was to me, and it was very important that she not know. Judy had a knack for ruining things.

After Judy left, I sat back on my heels and really look at the carving. It took me a few moments before I found the forest of oak trees again. I didn't recognize everything, but that would be the case if it had been carved 150 years ago. I saw two houses in the woods. I saw the town but it looked much smaller. It looked like a wilderness town. I traced the stream to follow the mural. Like so many times before, I ran my finger along its route as it curved throughout the scene. There was a place where the stream became very wide as it ran through the boulders, just like now, and then ran into the Lacawalla River. I read that it had taken a long time for the government to build the dam, even though they had bought the land from Captain Milner before the Civil War ended. The damming of the river had changed the look of the land and made the scene carved into the paneling difficult to recognize. Only the cliff, the cave, the stream, and the two houses were discernible to me.

I had to tell Dan. If anyone would be excited to find out about the paneling, he would. I ran out the door and walked up the road. Running as fast as I could, I noticed a fine layer of dust floating in the air as if some blast of wind had stirred everything up. I smelled burned gasoline and in the distance I heard loud, angry voices. I turned the corner to see Bill McCrery.

He must have just returned. I stood at the boundary of the woods and hid behind the bushes and trees where Mom and I hid before. Mr. McCrery stormed out of his truck. Mrs. Nickels got up from the rocker on the porch and stood very still with a hand on Mike's head, staying him. Mike's head was lowered but jutting out like he was ready to bite. The breeze that blew across the house towards me carried the sound of his deep-throated growl. Mr. McCrery yelled something obscene at Dan who stood in the yard. He stumbled up the steps, swearing as he tripped, and hit his knee. He yelled at Mrs. Nickels. "I won't stop looking even if I have to break everything in the house."

Mike barked ferociously back at him.

"What's that doing here?" he asked about the dog. "That's going to the pound." But he made no move toward Mike and instead, entered the house.

I ran into the yard as soon as Mr. McCrery disappeared into the house. I grabbed Dan's shoulder. His eyes burned with angry tears.

"Take Mike and go on down to Faith's house," Mrs. Nickels said to Dan. She spoke with authority. Dan leashed Mike and Mrs. Nickels sat back down on the rocker. "I need to talk with my brother in private."

I could hear Mr. McCrery breaking things inside the house. Suddenly, Bill McCrery appeared at the door.

I froze. He noticed me right away. He stood on the porch, staring at me. I felt a chill down my spine as he spat on the ground. "Who're you?" he barked. His red face looked hot and sweaty and his eyes were watery, like a turtle's. He blinked slowly.

"Leave her alone," said Mrs. Nickels. "She's just a friend of Dan's. You go on now in your truck and leave. There's nothing left here for you. You have taken everything. Take yourself down to the hospital. You're sick with drink."

"Get out of here," he said to Dan and me, flaying his arms drunkenly.

I could smell his breath from where I stood. He sneered at me. "What you looking at girl?" he asked menacingly. I wanted to turn and run as fast as I could but I felt frozen with fear. McCrery suddenly jumped towards me and I screamed, turned quick, and ran to the end of the yard, then turned back to see if he chased me. He stood on the porch laughing.

"Take you and your scardey-cat girlfriend out of here Danny Boy. I want to talk with your mother." Dan's uncle grabbed his sister's arm, jerking her up from the chair.

"I won't leave," shouted Dan, struggling to keep the dog from jumping on Mr. McCrery. "I won't let him do this to you."

"He won't do anything," Mrs. Nickels spoke tenderly to her son. "He's just making a lot of noise. I have something I need to tell him. Now, go on with you."

Dan held fast to Mike. "Please," he begged. "Let's go. I'm afraid."

"This is my house and I'll not abandon it to him," she said firmly. "Now you go on. I'll be fine here."

Just then Mike slipped through the leash and dove at Mr. McCrery. Dan's uncle gave the dog a swift kick in the belly and Mike yelped in pain. Before the dog could charge again, Dan had the leash back on him.

"Go on, now," his uncle warned us, but he had dropped his hold on his sister. "And take that mutt with you." Mr. McCrery made to kick the dog again but Mike quickly scrambled back and barked at him.

"No," Mrs. Nickels said to Mike. "Get. Go on. Get."

Obediently, Mike stopped barking.

Mrs. Nickels disappeared inside the house with her brother. I could smell Dan's fear when he approached me. I reached down and took his hand. It was clammy and cold like Mike's nose and I felt it trembling in my own. Slowly I led him away from the house and down the path. Dan walked blindly next me and covered his mouth with his free hand to muffle the sounds of his crying. Mike followed along. There was an ominous tension in the air. I walked as fast as I could. Dan stumbled along. I had to get home.

I had to tell someone what just happened.

***

Discussion Questions: Have you ever been in a situation where someone around you frightened you? What did you do? What would you do or what could you have done that might have helped you? What did Faith do that seemed right to you? Read Psalm 46:1-3

### Chapter 15

"Your Mom'll be just fine. You can't let your fearful thoughts get the best of you. She is very brave and tough," my Mom rubbed Dan's back.

"Just behind our house," my dad said on the phone with the police. "I don't think he has a gun. He's breaking things in the house. Mrs. Nickels is alone with him."

Mike sat at the door, pawing at it and whining pleadingly, but no one would let him out.

"She is brave," I said, sitting beside Dan. Still, I worried too. I knew my parents wouldn't be calling the police if there weren't some danger. Judging by the look on Dan's face, he felt the same way.

It seemed like forever had passed before I heard the police car drive up the dirt road behind our house, siren on, and lights flashing. Dan and I ran out to the backyard in time to see the rear of the police car speeding towards Dan's house, dirt and dust flying up in a great cloud behind the car. Dan grew visibly calmer at the sight.

"Let's sit here by the fountain," I said to Dan. Dan nodded and scooted beside me on the swing. My mom and dad would not let us go any closer.

"She doesn't want my uncle to take the house from her," answered Dan after I had finally prodded him out of silence. "That's why she wants to stay up there."

"But how could he do that?"

"He's already taken over the management of all the farms and the money. If he takes the houses and the land, we'll have no where to go. It would be easy for him. He could just lock all the doors and windows and not let us in. He would scare us away. I wish he would die."

I wished he would die, too, but I kept silent on the subject, knowing it was not a right wish and that God would not like to hear me say it. Better to wish that he were not so selfish and greedy. I had never met anyone like Mr. McCrery and I felt so frightened of him, I didn't even like to say his name. I anxiously swung my legs back and forth so that just my toes made marks in the dirt under the swinging bench. "What exactly is it that he's looking for? Maybe if we found it, he'd go away."

"He wants the deed. It's just a piece of paper. He wants to make her sign this other paper that hands it all over to him. She signed it once, I think, and then got it back. She's hiding it somewhere. Either that or she burned it and he's looking for the deed. She's mad at him for breaking all her figurines."

"Well, she should just give it to him," I said desperately. "You can live with us."

Dan slipped his hand in mine, squeezed it, and confided, "She has a plan. She thinks he's desperate for money right now. That's why he's so angry all the time. My mom's hoping she can talk some sense into him. There's a place he can go where they won't let him drink and they'll take care of him. Mom's going to tell him he has to go there. She said she thinks he'll go because he's afraid of something. He knows he's sick." Dan whispered, "It's our only hope."

"Who's he afraid of? The police?"

Dan shook his head. "I don't know. He gambles a lot. He probably owes people money."

We heard a car driving back down the road behind us. It turned into our drive. Two police officers got out of the car and walked over to my parents, who were sitting on the patio waiting to hear any news of Mrs. Nickels. We ran over to hear what the police would say.

"He left," said the officer with a brown braid down her back. A curly blonde hair and blue eyed officer beside her smiled kindly at us and put his arm around Dan. He said, "Your mom is fine." Then to my parents he said, "Mrs. Nickels said he wanted her to sign these papers." The officer held up a legal document. "It transfers the deed from her to her brother. You can tell how he was forcing her to sign it." The officer pointed at a blue streak across the paper. "We're going to keep it as evidence. Maybe we can get a restraining order. If so, you won't need to worry about McCrery for a long time. He won't be allowed to go near her."

"Where was she hiding it?" Dan asked.

The woman officer answered Dan. "In the cracker box."

"She's really is brave," I said.

Dan covered his face and shook his head. "He'll never leave us alone. Not until he takes everything from us."

The two police officers looked at each other. "Don't worry fella," said the woman. Her badge read Officer Krauss. "We'll take care of this," she took Dan's hand and held it. "It's been pretty scary for you, hasn't it?"

Dan nodded. I thought he would break down and cry.

"Your mom told us about how he's been pushing the two of you around." Officer Krauss looked at my dad. "That guy's a coward and a bully. You just don't know what's going on behind closed doors. I certainly appreciate your looking out for these two," meaning Dan and his mother. "I can't thank you enough. We got a look at Mr. Sanchez's leg up at the hospital. We need to investigate that injury. Sanchez is so worried about McCrery that he won't talk, but we've known there was something going on up there for a while. Mrs. Nickels says McCrery threatens the tenants. Maybe he had something to do with Mr. Sanchez's fall."

My dad said, "Maybe we can get to the bottom of all this and get Mrs. Nickels back on her feet, too. She's got a bad case of cataracts and I'm hoping I can get her into surgery soon. Maybe get her eyesight back."

My mom invited the officers in for leftover shortcake and coffee. Dan and I stayed outside. Neither of us felt like eating. "I'm going home," Dan said, and I could tell he felt anxious to see his mom.

"You want to play later?" I asked. The sun would set soon and I had yet to tell him about the paneling.

"Maybe."

"I have something I want to show you," I said, a little of the excitement returning. I smiled at him.

"Okay, I'll be back," he promised.

I let Mike out of the house to catch up with Dan. The dog rushed past Dan, straight for the house.

I passed by the kitchen where they sat eating cake with the police officers. Sonny sat with them but he ran over to me when he saw me standing at the door. He knew something was up with me.

"Would you like a piece of shortcake?" my mom asked me again.

"No thanks," I answered, making my way into the dining room where I waited for Dan. I wondered what he would say about the scene in the paneling when he saw it. The more I looked at it, the more new things I spotted. Could it be a treasure map, I wondered? I traced my finger over the stream that ran through the mural, seeing it as a path. I traced it from the top of the mountain on the little plateau at the spring-fed pond, down to the waterfall, and into the wide path of large boulders. I wondered at the large cave much bigger than the one in which we kept Mike. Why should the cave be so much smaller now? What had happened to it? Was it a pile of boulders that fell over into the stream one day? Why would it have fallen?

Dan returned sooner than I'd expected with Sonny following him into the dining room. "Mom's fine. She's gone to bed to rest," said Dan.

"I'm glad," I said. "I hope they can fix it so your uncle will leave her alone."

"Mom's pretty upset. She said Uncle Bill owes a lot of money."

"Well it's him that owes the money, not her."

"That's true. Why should we have to pay his debt?" Dan said.

"Speaking of money, look at this!" I pointed to the mural.

Dan fixed his eyes on the paneling.

"You see it, don't you?" I asked.

"I can't believe we didn't notice it the first time we were looking at it. It's the view from the roof!"

"Wow, you're right," I said, remembering the view from the chimney seat. "I was hoping it was a treasure map," I admitted, "but I don't see a beginning or an ending and there is no line leading to an 'X'."

"Hm-m-m," said Dan thoughtfully. "That's true, there's not."

We looked at the mural for a long time but could not seem to make any sense of it other than that it might be a map of Dan's woods. The mural had lots of wildlife. I saw birds and squirrels in the trees, beavers at the stream, deer in the woods, and a mountain lion on the cliff. "It must've been a lot different back then," I commented about all the animals.

"The woods must've gone on for thousands of miles. Look at the town," Dan laughed.

"It's only just that main street and what is that over there?" I pointed to one of the larger buildings.

"That must have been Milner's old lumber yard where the mall is now, right by the river. That would make sense since they'd have to use the river to transport the lumber."

"Ms. Smart told me the Lacawalla River used to run into the Susquehanna and you could sail right over to Philadelphia."

"I think this mural is just a picture of what Lacawalla looked like a hundred years ago," said Dan.

"I guess," I answered. Not completely giving up, I said, "It's fun to think it might be a treasure map."

"Yeah," Dan agreed, walking towards the door. "You want to see that little house in the woods?" he asked.

"Sure. Where?"

"Behind the Captain's monument."

Sonny had fallen asleep on my lap so Dan got Mom to carry him upstairs. "We're going outside for a while, Mom," I told her.

"Okay, but not too late. Make sure you're in by ten."

The sun hung low at the horizon. We had about an hour. We took flashlights outside and went up the hill towards Captain Milner's monument. Mike saw us and ran up to follow, trotting along beside us. Behind the monument were several acres of neatly planted rows of pine trees. Skirting these, we came to the shelter. The Boy Scouts built a lean-to. A lean-to had a pole fixed about six feet high across two trees on either side with tree branches spread against them. The triangular shelter had survived for many years although it gave only temporary shelter from wind and rain.

A new moon made the warm night dark. Soon stars twinkled brightly in the sky. Dan and I stretched out under the lean to, looking up at the sky, pointing out each star as it became visible. Mike lay happily beside Dan, the dog's head in the crook of his arm.

"Do you think you'll be taking some ninth grade classes?" I asked. "I wish we were in the same grade."

"Maybe. I don't know. Mom has to go down there and talk to the counselor so I can take the test."

Mike lifted his head. The hairs on his back rose straight up and a nasty growl vibrated in the back of his throat. It made me wary. The dog jumped up, pricked his ears, and made a long whining sound that sent a chill down my back. "What is it, boy?" Dan asked the dog.

Suddenly Mike dashed off towards Dan's house running with his tail tucked beneath him, as if something devilish chased him. Dan jumped up, "Mike! Come back!" A loud boom echoed through the woods.

"Gosh, what was that!" Dan turned to me.

"Come on," I said, "Let's go to the monument." We would have a good view there.

We ran as fast as we could along the rows of pine until we came to the monument. Fat billows of black smoky clouds filled the sky above Dan's house. I couldn't believe what I saw. I cried, "Look, Dan, your house is on fire!"

***

Discussion Questions: What did Mrs. Nickels hope for her brother? Why didn't she just call the police and have her brother arrested? Why wasn't she more afraid of her brother? Read 1 Corinthians 13:4-7.

### Chapter 16

Dan tore down the hill, already far ahead of me, and beyond, Mike headed straight into the fire, leaped through the open porch window of Dan's house, and disappeared into the flames. Another explosion shattered the upstairs windows, shooting glass shards all over the front yard. The top floor of the house burst into flames.

"Mom!" I heard Dan scream. I saw his legs flying in long leaping strides that barely touched the ground. Nearly at the house, a figure black as night darted across the hill towards him, grabbed him, and held him back. I heard Dan scream in protest. Close behind him, my gait stretched wildly on the ground barely keeping my balance. At the bottom of the hill, a searing heat and an evil wind whipped the air and stopped me cold. I felt a wind so hot I thought I might burst into flames. Yellow-blue tongues of flames licked hungrily at the side of Dan's house, reaching out of the windows and creeping up to the roof. I heard the piercing siren of a fire truck over the deafening roar of the flames. It came racing towards me, fishtailed in the dirt road, and hit an uneven bump so that the back end bucked into the air before coming to a sudden halt just a few feet from where I stood. Thick, black smoke suddenly engulfed me and I saw a bodiless hand poke through the black wall, grab my arm, and pull me away. I gulped in the clean air for the thick smoke had choked me in an instant, and I coughed. I looked up to see my father, his other arm securely holding Dan. The roar of the fire was so loud I couldn't even hear Dan but I could see him mouthing the screams. "Mom!" he screamed over and over again.

Dad kept Dan and me from getting to close to the fire where we had unwittingly run at top speed. He let go of me with a warning look, needing both hands to secure a better grip on Dan, who was struggling with all his might to rush in and save his mother.

Firemen jumped out of the truck and grabbed the hose. The water that shot out of the fat fire hose at lightning speed seemed to evaporate against the flaming house. Two other fire-fighters, dressed in smoke-protective masks and fire-retardant suits, rushed into the house.

I waited until I saw the firemen pass by the front window. In a few moments they were back at the door, one carrying Mrs. Nickels in his arms, the other carrying Mike. The fireman carried Dan's mom to the front lawn and laid her on a cot on the ground away from the smoke. From somewhere an ambulance had arrived. Paramedics circled around her, placing a mask over her face to give her oxygen. Dad let go of Dan who rushed over to Mrs. Nickels, throwing his arms around her and crying. I walked over behind them, afraid to look.

Mrs. Nickels' chest rose and fell slightly. I saw her arm bleeding and red from where Mike, who must've led her through the flames, had grabbed her with his teeth. Dad bandaged it. I looked around for the brave dog.

I saw Mike limp over to the side of the woods to a cool place away from all the commotion. He lay down heavily in the grass. I rushed over and covered him with hugs and kisses. I stayed with Mike as the rest of the house burned down. It did not take long. Embers floated in the sky and the pungent smoke burned my throat and nose as I held Mike's head in my lap and cried.

I felt someone's arms around me, pulling me away from the dog. I let go of Mike and hung onto my mother. I pulled close to her, hugging her fiercely as I cried. I looked into my mom's face and I knew for sure: Mike had died in my arms.

Medics loaded Mrs. Nickels into the ambulance and Dan scrambled in the back to sit beside her. I watched as the back doors of the ambulance closed behind Mrs. Nickels and Dan. I could see there were others in there too, probably Dad, working on Mrs. Nickels. A chill went through me as I realized that Mrs. Nickels could die, just like Mike had.

The ambulance drove away, its siren screaming as it spun its tires in the dirt, rushing to get to the hospital. I heard voices explaining the facts surrounding the arson. Someone lit the fire on purpose using a large amount of fuel. The police found the can. They would take fingerprints from it. Matches lay beside it. I knew in my heart that Dan's uncle had done it.

The house burned on and on, falling into a pile of ash and debris. I couldn't stop watching even though it filled me with dread. Finally, my mother found me and led me away. When we'd gone around the corner and the house was no longer in view, I started to talk to my mother.

"I went to see Mike," I said, "because I wanted to tell him what a brave dog he was."

Mom nodded.

"Oh, Mommy," I cried, "Is Mrs. Nickels going to die, too?"

Mom shook her head, "I don't think so, Faith."

"Are you sure?"

"It's likely that she'll recover. Thank goodness for Mike. I don't think the firemen would have found her without him."

Mom tucked me into bed. Sonny slept in the next room. My mom sat on the side of my bed, stroking my face with a wet washcloth to soothe my fiery skin. She told me Dad called to let them know that Mrs. Nickels would be okay and that they found Mr. McCrery in the woods. She began to explain to me what was going on and why. "All the firemen are still there and the fire is nearly out. Someone will be there all night so you don't have to worry about the same thing happening to our house. Just get some sleep and everything will be better tomorrow."

"Will you get Mike, Mommy? Will you get him and bring him here so we can bury him? He's all alone out there," I said, crying like a baby.

"Of course, I'll get Mike right away," she promised.

"Is Mrs. Nickels really going to be all right?"

"Yes, darling. I'm sure she will. She's inhaled a good deal of smoke and suffered a few burns but Daddy said she'd be fine."

"Why did he do it, Mom, why?"

"Why did who do what?"

"Why did Mr. McCrery start that fire?"

"We don't know that for sure," my mom said but of course, everyone suspected him.

"I'm sure," I said.

"Alcohol makes people do crazy things when they are angry. I don't know why he did it, if he did it, but it is all over now."

"What if he comes over here and starts a fire over here?"

"I don't think you have to worry about him anymore."

"Why? Did they put him in jail?"

"Yes. They turned him over to the authorities and locked him up. You don't have to think about him anymore. He'll be in jail for a long, long time."

The thought of Mr. McCrery being gone for a long, long time was very comforting to me and I realized how terrified of him I felt. I closed my eyes, ready for sleep. Just before I nodded off, I mumbled, "Don't forget about Mike, Mommy."

***

Discussion Questions: Have you ever had a pet that died? Do you think animals go to heaven? If you lost a pet you loved, do you hope to see it in heaven? Read Isaiah 11:6-9

### Chapter 17

We buried Mike in the grassy woods between the old Nickels' house and ours. Mom, Sonny and I rose early that morning and said our last good-byes. "He was the best dog in the world," I said sadly. Sonny nodded his head solemnly.

While Dan stood vigil by his mother's bedside at the hospital, we worked all morning to make Mike's grave site beautiful, clearing away weeds and brush to make a path from each house to the grave. "This sawdust will make the path soft," my mom said after we made a trip to the garden center in town.

I helped my mom unload the bags of sawdust into the wheelbarrow. Mom took the marker and gave me a pen to write Mike's name on the wooden cross. "Add whatever else you want to write," She encouraged me. I decided to write:

## Mike the Brave

## A Dog Who Gave Up His Life to Save Another

I stuck the cross in the soft mound of his grave while Mom took the wheelbarrow and filled it with flower plantings. The three of us stayed busy all morning and when we finished Mike's grave site it looked like a small garden. We bought a bench and placed it in the shade then we sat down to rest.

Around noon, Dad returned from the hospital with good news. "Mrs. Nickels is going to be okay," he told us, sipping coffee on the porch while Sonny played beside him. Dad's face looked drawn with exhaustion as he described his night. He'd monitored Mrs. Nickels, who spent the night fighting for her life. He'd talked with the police, telling them the events that lead up to the fire, and all that he knew about the troubled life of his neighbors. He'd sat and comforted Dan and prayed with him relentlessly for the life of his mother. Dad sighed. He set his empty cup on the table. "McCrery admitted that he started the fire. Says he was so angry he couldn't remember much, but he remembers pouring the gasoline around the house. Says he's not sorry. The land should be his. Can you believe that?"

I got up and looked out the window. I could smell ashes and hear the voices of curious people walking up the dirt road, just to look. It had been like that since this morning. I felt glad that Dan stayed at the hospital and didn't have to see the intruders. I felt confused. I wondered why God had let this dreadful event happen. The pain of Mike's death felt like a sharp stone in my chest every time I took a breath. "Where do you think they'll live now, Daddy?" I asked.

"I'm not sure but we'll think of something."

"What will they do? How will they survive?" I felt worried and anxious. I knew how desperate things were for them. How would they make it?

My dad, however, did not sound as gloomy as I felt. He said almost cheerfully, "I think they'll probably move in with Mr. Sanchez's sister. Mrs. Nickels is going to need some help getting around for a few days. We operated on her eyes this morning and more than likely, she'll be able to see again in a few weeks. But for now, she needs someone to take care of her and I thought Mrs. Munez would be the likely candidate. Mr. Sanchez is starting to get around pretty well, and I suggested to Mrs. Nickels that she put him in charge of managing the land leases. He seems to know quite a bit about it. More than likely, Faith, Mrs. Nickels and Dan will be much better off than they were with McCrery in charge."

"Really?" I asked. "You mean they won't be homeless?"

"Mrs. Nickels is a strong woman. She should be able to take good care of Dan," her father explained. "Mr. McCrery took advantage of her when she was grieving but she's rid of him now, and by his own making."

"Thank the Lord for that," said my mom.

"Then I guess it's a good thing their house burnt down," I asked, a little confused.

"I wouldn't say that but as it turns out, they are at least rid of McCrery and that is a good thing."

"Do you think God made all that happen?" I asked, getting right to the point.

Dad hesitated before he answered, seriously considering my question. "I don't think God made their house burn down. I think he gave Mrs. Nickels the courage she needed to keep possession of her house and keep her brother from bullying it away from her. And, I think God helped her to start thinking more of her son and less of her grief so that she had the courage to stand up against her brother. All in all, I'd say Mrs. Nickels was a very brave woman through all this and I think she loves God and tries to do what is right. I don't think God made McCrery do such an evil deed as to burn the house down with his sister in it. I think people, in their stubbornness and rage, fall into wrong thinking and do wrong things all by themselves."

"But I prayed every night for Mrs. Nickels."

"So did many people," Dad answered. "And we prayed for Mr. McCrery."

"Why!" I gasped.

"Jesus tells us to pray for our enemies."

"Oh," I said. "I forgot. Do you think God heard my prayers for Dan and Mrs. Nickels?"

Mom smiled at me, "God always hears our prayers. He just doesn't always answer them the way we expect. He doesn't snap His fingers and turn everyone into do-gooders. People do good when they choose to do what is right. They do evil when they choose to do the wrong thing. If there were no choices, there'd be no true love, because love is a choice, Faith. In this world bad things happen, terrible things, heart-breaking things, but if we ask Him, God will help us through them."

I knew she was referring to Mike's death. My mother's words made me cry.

Mom continued, "There is always love. God chooses to love us and so love always reigns as the most powerful choice. When we start loving others, then we begin doing good because God is love."

"Do you think Mr. McCrery will ever love Mrs. Nickels and Dan?" I asked.

"If he chooses to. That is our prayer for him. The power to love is available to everyone." My mother said this with great certainty although it took a strong dose of imagination to think of Mr. McCrery becoming a loving person.

I left the window, sat beside my mother, and put my head on her shoulder as she stroked my hair and hugged me. My heart felt heavy and my body trembled. My mother's words comforted me in a way that felt very tender and kind. "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too," she answered.

*

Two weeks before school started, Dan knocked at my door. I'd seen him a couple of times when we visited at the hospital, but not alone. I felt so glad to see him I hugged him. He held me, too, as if he'd missed me. I said, "I have a place to show you."

When I brought him to Mike's grave he said, "I really like this bench."

"It's a beautiful resting-place for him," I sat on bench beside him.

"Thank you," he said.

I nodded, "No thanks required. How is your mom? Do you like it up at Mrs. Munez's?" I asked him. Everything happened just as my father said it would. Dan and his mother moved in with Mrs. Munez yesterday.

"Senora Munez is taking good care of her. You should see Mom with her eyes bandaged. She has to wait another week before the bandages come off." He got up from the bench and walked over to the edge of the woods to look over at his house. "They say the eyes heal very quickly."

"That will be really exciting when she gets the bandages off."

"It sure will and we're going to build a new house, too."

"Really? So we will be neighbors again?"

Dan smiled. "I went to the school office by myself with a note from Mom, asking them to give me the test, and they did. We'll be classmates, too. Soon we'll be in ninth grade together."

"Wow. You'll be in my class?"

Dan nodded and we laughed. "You want to go up to Senora Munez's and see my mom?"

Even with Dan's shortcut which being a straight climb up the mountain, is no real deal, Mrs. Munez's house was pretty far to walk. "It works better coming down," he explained when, already huffing and puffing, I told him I had to sit down for a minute. We sat by the stream on a rock with our feet dangling in the cool water. We still had the steepest part of the mountain to climb.

"What about your uncle?" I asked.

"What about him?"

"Where is he? Where did they find him?"

"He's in the hospital right now. They found him in the woods, near where we were. He's hurt real bad. When they found him he was drunk and he told the police everything he'd done but later, after he sobered, he couldn't even remember what he did. At least, that's what I heard the police say."

"How is he hurt?"

"He has burns on his arms and legs. He'll be in the hospital for about a month and then he'll probably go to jail. Mr. Sanchez is going to take over the management of the farm now. You should see him. He's really changed. He checks everything out and helps everyone. He's back to his old self like he was before my dad died."

"So your uncle is going to jail?"

"Probably." He reflected, "He's a sick man, Faith. He's sick with greed. It got the better of him. So did his alcohol addiction. I went to the hospital to see him and he was completely out of it. He thought I was his father."

"He thought you were his dad?"

"I guess I resemble him."

"Did he say he was sorry?"

"No," Dan shrugged. "He's still really angry about everything. If he changed, if he stopped being so mad and said he was sorry, I think my mom would try to help him. I would, too. Maybe once he gets out of the hospital he'll have time to think things over. He never was in his right mind the whole time he lived with us because he was drinking so much. I kind of knew that before all this happened. I was afraid of what he'd do. It was like I knew all the time he was going to do something crazy and now that he has and it's over, I feel better. I don't even hate him anymore. I know God is helping me, ever since we talked about it that night. I feel okay. Mom and I can start living like normal people again. My mom, she's so different. She's happy, Faith. I haven't seen her happy in a long time."

"I can't wait to see her."

"She wants to see you too. She says you were an answer to her prayers."

"Me?"

Dan nodded. "Yeah. She said she prayed a long time for me to have a friend I could open up to. She said she was worried about me because it was like I was shutting down and getting hard inside. She was right, too, Faith. If it weren't for you, I don't know where I'd be right now. I hated everybody. I was mad at everything. I was thinking all sorts of crazy thoughts about my uncle and ways to get him out of our lives."

That surprised me and I wondered what dastardly deeds he'd been imagining. I smiled at him anyway, hardly able to believe that I meant so much to him.

"You helped me trust God again. I'd lost Him when my dad died. I guess I was mad. But you're so close to Him. Everything about you, Faith, makes me smile."

I shrugged. I felt embarrassed. I thought that as long as I lived I would never know anyone as fine as Dan Nickels, but what he said and how he said it left us in an awkward state.

"Well," Dan said, "I guess we should be going." He offered me his hand as I got up. It seemed kind of a grown up thing to do. We put our shoes back on and when I looked up at him, he smiled at me. All of the awkwardness disappeared and I could tell we were back to normal. "Come on, let's go," he said, and he disappeared around the bend in his usual spurt of energy.

***

Discussion Questions: What kind of things do you pray for? Do you think God wants us to pray for each other? Do you think anyone prays for you? Read John 17:20-26.

### Chapter 18

Mrs. Nickels lay on a bed in the main room of Senora Munez's house. Beside her bed stood a little table with a picture of Jesus touching his crimson heart. Candles flickered on either side of the picture. A prayer mat lay on the floor below. "What is this for?" I asked, describing what I saw to Mrs. Nickels, whose bandaged eyes could see nothing.

"Senora kneels here and says the rosary for me."

"Is this a rosary?" I picked up the beads that lay on the table and handed them to Mrs. Nickels.

"Yes. The rosary is like a necklace only it is a special kind of necklace. It is a praying necklace. I can feel the beads are very smooth. Senora prays a lot." Mrs. Nickels fingered the strand of wooden beads from which hung a silver cross, engraved with the image of Christ on it. "Each bead stands for a prayer. For each of these small ones, she prays the Hail Mary. That's a prayer to Jesus' mother and then for each of the big beads she prays the Lord's Prayer. Senora says the rosary for me every night."

"Why does she have a picture of Jesus here? Is it just to look at?" I asked.

"That's an icon. An icon is a holy picture. This is like a little altar for Senora. It is like having a little church in her house."

"Oh," I said.

"Where is Senora Munez, Mom?" We had just arrived and Dan sat beside her on the bed.

"She went up to Sr. Sanchez's house. She cleaned up his house and got the extra room ready for Angel. Angel, Sr. Sanchez's daughter, has moved back home with him."

"Why did she move out of her father's house in the first place?" I asked even though I knew I was being nosey.

"His wife died several years ago. I think Angel felt too sad to be around her father." Mrs. Nickels knew all about having to suffer through the death of a loved one. "I guess Angel needed a mom and the senora is very much like a mother to her. She's her aunt."

"Angel looks just like her mother," Dan said.

Mrs. Nickels nodded. "That's enough of all this sad talk. What are you kids going to do today?"

"I want to go down to our house and look around," Dan answered.

"I wish you wouldn't," his mother warned. "It's dangerous down there."

"There's nothing left, Mom. Everything burned down to ashes."

"You may go but only to walk around the edge of the yard."

"Okay. I'll be careful. What will our new house look like and when are they going to start building it?"

Mrs. Nickels grew quiet.

"Mom?"

She gave a big sigh. "I just don't know if we can build a new one now, at least, not right away. Our insurance never covered the fire because it was deliberately started."

"What do you mean? You mean we won't have a house?"

"Sh-h-h," Mrs. Nickels tried to calm her son. "We have a house. We have this one."

"But this is Senora Munez's house."

"She only rents it. It belongs to us," Mrs. Nickels explained.

"But I don't want to live here."

"We have to live where we can. We're lucky we have this one. Eventually, Senora Munez will move in with Angel and her brother. It's all settled."

Dan ran out of the house and Mrs. Nickels reached her hand out to me. "He's very disappointed. I am, too. Maybe you should go and see what you can do."

Outside I caught sight of Dan running back down the mountain. The mountain paths could still confuse me so I walked down the mountain using the road instead. I figured he would head back to his old house that burned down but I didn't find him there.

It must be hard for him, I thought, to lose his dad and now his house with all his belongings. Some things just can't be replaced. He must have had many memories of his dad in that big house. Now he has to live in this little stone one with no hope of returning. The stone house that Senora Munez lived in had only a main room and a small bedroom. She wondered where Dan slept.

When she returned home she found Dan sitting on the bench beside Mike's grave. "There's no end to all this trouble," said Dan. "I thought we were going to have a new house. I thought everything would be better. Now it is only worse. We have no money and we have to live in that little house."

I sat down beside him. "You know, I've been thinking. Maybe you could move in with us. We have a little place over the garage."

Dan wiped his face and shook his head, "Thanks, but I don't think my mom would intrude like that. At least we own the little house."

"Everything will be okay. Sr. Sanchez won't spend the money as your uncle did. You'll have some money to make things better. It'll just take a little while."

Dan smiled, "That's true."

I felt myself getting hungry and knew Dan must be too. "Come on, let's get some lunch."

My mom made two grilled cheese sandwiches for Dan and one for me. "You two look like the saddest pair I've seen in a long time," she said, sitting down with us at the table. "You shouldn't worry so much. Your mom is going to surprise you, Dan. She's a very brave woman and I bet once those bandages are off, everything will turn out just fine."

"I hope so," Dan answered. Miserable and sad, he still managed to eat two sandwiches and half of mine.

We decided to stay out of the sun and play a game of Monopoly in the dining room. Mom played with us. She persuaded Dan not to go poking around in the ashes of his old house. "Your mother has not seen your house yet. Even the edges are dangerous because there are still some beams standing upright. What if they fell over on you?"

At first he didn't care but Dan relented when she promised him that when Dad came home, we would all go over together. Dad planned to be home early today and Dan looked anxious to poke through what was left of his old home. He played terribly. I won almost all the cards worth anything. Dan kept looking over at the paneling. I had to remind him when his turn came around. "You're out of Jail. Dan?" He was not listening.

"What are you thinking about" my mom asked him.

Dan had a dazed expression on his face.

I saw where he was looking. "He's checking out the paneling. We figured out it was a map of this area."

"Oh, my," my mother answered. "I never would've guessed that." She looked at the paneling.

"Oh, forget it," I said, leaving the dice on the board and getting up to join them in front of the paneling.

Dan pointed out the forest, the houses, the little town, the stream, and the Lacawalla River where it ran before it they dammed it.

My mom looked closer at the paneling. "There's something odd about it," my mom said.

"I know," Dan agreed. "I can't figure it out. I think it's the creek. It's not the path of the creek today. It flows by my house." Dan pointed to the little house and traced his finger along the stream from the spring. "See. The creek looks like it's flowing away from the river, right out of the cave and through my house. The real direction of the stream is just the opposite and it curves around the back and flows down behind the Captain's monument. The stream doesn't go by my house."

"Oh, well, I don't really know the creek but I know you are right. It doesn't flow into your house," Mom said. "I see what you mean. Isn't that odd? I wonder why it was carved that way."

I grabbed hold of Dan's arm. "Because it's not a stream!" I yelled.

"It's not?" asked Dan.

"No! It's a path!"

"A path?" Mom asked. "What do you mean, Faith?"

"It's a map! A treasure map!" I jumped up and down, pulling them with me in my excitement. "That's not water, that's a path to the treasure!"

Dad walked into the room. "My goodness," he said, seeing me so excited.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him over, explaining what we'd found. Dan pointed out how the stream in the paneling flowed by his house, almost in his house. "Then it disappears into the ground at the cave, see that?" Dan pointed to the cave, an area well past his house. "What do you think that means? It can't be a stream."

Dad studied the carving.

"It follows the path of the stream here," Dan continued, pointing to the boulders, just under the cave. "But then the real stream curves way over. Here it's coming from my house, flowing in the opposite direction up to the cave. That's not right. We think it's not a stream. It's just disguised as one." Dan squatted in front of the paneling, pointing at the place where the stream ran under the cave. Watching the two of them, I thought Dan looked and sounded like my own father. He examined every detail of the carving. "The cave is much larger on this carving, too," explained Dan. "It's really not that big."

"That's the cave where we kept Mike, Daddy."

"It could be that some of those stones that were originally part of the cave, toppled down the mountain so that now it is smaller than it was," My dad said. "An earthquake will do that."

"Will you go up to the cave and look around with us, Daddy?" I asked.

"That's a great idea," Dan said, forgetting about going to his house to look around.

Dad stood up and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "I guess I'm up for a little hike."

"I think we should look around beside the cave on the west side and see if there's anything there," said Dan.

"Like what?" Mom looked skeptical.

"Oh, I don't know, a hole, maybe. Let's think about it. If it were a treasure map then the path would be clear. I mean, why would it disappear like that?" He pointed to the area around Dan's old house and then again around the cave, the two places where the stream disappeared.

"It might just be the way the person carved it," said Dan. "The trees and rocks get in the way. Not that it's disappeared; it's just behind the trees."

"I don't think so," said Dad and I had to agree with him. "I think that if this paneling is really a map then it is not a treasure map but a map for something else."

"What else could it be for?" I asked because I knew for certain it led to the treasure.

Dad answered, "The Underground Railroad. After all, what was really important to the Captain? Was it money or was it fighting slavery? One thing is for certain, I do believe this paneling is a map. It's not a stream because it's not flowing down. It's flowing up. Why would someone this talented carve a stream flowing north?"

"That's what I said," Dan jumped up excitedly.

Dad's words sent chills through me. The Underground Railroad suddenly seemed like something real instead of an old history story. "Maybe we should call Ms. Smart."

"I think that's an excellent idea," my mother reached for her phone. "I'll call her right now."

"And I'll get changed. Faith and Dan, why don't you fix us something to eat that we can take along? I have a feeling this is going to take some time," Dad suggested.

We made peanut butter sandwiches. I found a few hot dogs and put them in the sandwiches too. "Not a bad idea," said Dan.

Mom got Sonny ready to go on the adventure when the doorbell rang. "Get that," she called downstairs to me. We stuffed the sandwiches in my old book bag and ran to open the door for Ms. Smart.

"Wow! You sure did get here fast," I said.

Ms. Smart quickly asked me to take her to the dining room. "I came as fast as I could. I shut down the library. I had to shoo people out, which I feel just awful about. But this is exciting! I brought a big roll of paper, too."

"What do we do with that?"

"I'll show you," she said. "Now you kids hold both ends of the paper as I roll it across the paneling." Ms. Smart covered one section of the paneling. The scene repeated itself so she needed to copy it only once. She fumbled around in her big black bag until she found a large piece of black chalk, which she rubbed over the surface of the paper.

"Look, I can see the map," I said.

"It's coming out perfectly," smiled Dan.

Ms. Smart smiled back at us. "This way, we can take the map with us if we need it." After she had rubbed over the whole scene, she fumbled in her purse again for a can of hairspray. "Here we go," she said. "I'll spray this stuff over it and then we won't smudge the map." She sprayed the paper lightly, then ripped off the part with the map and rolled it up. "Now we're ready," she said.

Ms. Smart showed Mom and Dad the map. "That's perfect," said Dad. "We may need it."

We headed out the door with the pack of food, the map, and a good flashlight. Dad helped us into his car. "We better drive," he said. "It's getting late."

Dan directed us to the cave. It looked like it always looked with the large opening facing the cliff and the smaller opening on ground level only large enough for a child to pass through. "I've been in there a hundred times and it is just a little room," explained Dan.

"Ah, but remember that is not where we are going to look. We are going to look beside it. I want everyone to take a good look around for anything unusual because, if I'm right, I'm thinking there is another cave somewhere to the left over here." Dad poked around the thick growth of bushes beside the cave. "I should have thought to bring some gloves," he said, wincing at the pain from some sticker bushes.

Ms. Smart got a large stick and poked it in and out of the bushes, trying to see the ground. "This is impossible," she said. "This undergrowth is so thick, I can't see a thing."

Dan and I looked everywhere else, ignoring the impossible bushes. We searched every square inch of ground that we could see. "Just exactly what are we looking for?" asked Dan. He looked a little disappointed.

"I'm not sure," Dad answered.

Mom carried Sonny in the back carrier, anxious about the cliff and whatever else my brother might find. "Let's look at the map again."

Ms. Smart rolled out the map so that everyone could see. "The path clearly ends to the left of the cave."

"But it's to the left of the cave when the cave was much bigger," said Dan.

"That's right," Mom agreed. "We're looking in the wrong spot."

"By golly, you're right." Dad gave Dan a wide grin. "We should be looking over there," he said, pointing to a pile of rocks that could have been from the side of the cave that had collapsed.

"There must've been a huge rock that was held up by that pile over there and then fallen off sometime in the past. So, that would make the entrance somewhere, well, I guess, right under those rocks." Dad frowned.

Everyone stared at the pile of rocks too heavy to move. No one could lift them. Each rock looked like it weighed a ton.

"Oh, great," I said. "We'll never be able to move those."

The search ended in disappointment. Mom and Mrs. Smart decided to walk back to the house while Dad and I drove Dan back to Senora Munez's house, stopping in to see Mrs. Nickels and to find out how her eyes were healing from the operation. Dan sat beside his mother as my dad pulled off the bandages. "Your eyes look fine. It won't be too long now. Can you see anything?"

"I can see shadows even though it's dark now and I never could see anything after sundown, even in artificial light."

"That's a good sign of healing." He bandaged them again. "A few more days," he promised.

"I pray for her every day." Senora Munez stood beside Mrs. Nickels like a mother beside a favored child. "I not let anything happen to her."

Mrs. Nickels reached out and Senora Munez took her hand. A smile crept over Mrs. Nickels' face. It was clear the two women had grown very fond of each other. Dan crawled in bed beside his mother, too tired to talk. Now I knew where he slept. We said our good-byes and drove home.

That night, Dad tucked me into bed and said, "It is just amazing how God has worked things out for the Nickels, isn't it, Faith?"

I yawned wide and long, then nodded and smiled. I laid my hand on my father's shoulder and scooted up next to him. "I love you, Daddy. But God needs to make one more thing work out."

"What is that?"

"He needs to help Dan get his old house back."

"How's that?"

"Well, he can't keep living in that one room stone house. That's why we really need to find the treasure, so he can build his house back up. I know you don't think there's a treasure. You think that it's just a map to the Underground Railroad around here, but I want it to be a treasure map so much."

"Faith, is that why you want to find the treasure?"

I nodded and said, "If we find the treasure, Mrs. Nickels can use it to build a house. Maybe the treasure is under those rocks."

"So if you find the treasure, you are going to give it to Dan and Mrs. Nickels?"

"Yes," I said, yawning again, exasperated by my father's slowness. "It could be the treasure. It really could."

"Faith?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too. And I love Mom and Sonny. And I love the Nickels, and I love God." That pretty much covered it.

"I love Him, too, sweetheart." Dad said, "You remember Christ's command to love God with all your heart, mind and strength and to love your neighbor as yourself?"

I nodded that I did. Already my eyes were closed and I felt half asleep but I heard my dad say, "I am very proud of you," just before he turned off the lights.

***

Discussion Questions: Have you ever had to rely on a map to get somewhere? Would you be able to follow a treasure map if you found one? How is the Bible like a treasure map? Read 1 Timothy 6:17-19

### Chapter 19

The next morning I opened my eyes to see my father sitting on my bed, calling my name. "Faith," he said, "wake up. It's time to get up."

I thought it might be the first day of school and my eyes shot open with a start. Then I quickly remembered that I still had several days and one weekend of summer vacation. I smiled. "Hi, Daddy. What are you doing waking me up so early?"

"We have work to do. We're going to spend all day looking for that treasure."

"Really?" I could hardly believe my ears. "You mean you think there's a treasure, too?" My father wore his work boots, an old T-shirt, and a pair of old cotton shorts. He pulled a bottle of sun block mixed with insect repellent from his pocket, the acrid smell of the lotion still fresh on his skin.

"That's right. Up you go. Your mother has breakfast ready for you and then it's you and me and some others all day, looking for the treasure."

I shot out of bed and jumped in circles around him until he grabbed me in a bear hug. "You get dressed now and I'll see you downstairs. Don't forget to put lotion on," he said, leaving the bottle on my dresser. "We're going to be outside most of the day."

I shrugged. Every day I spent outside and never put lotion on, but I did what Dad told me, and ran to the kitchen to gobble down French toast and bacon. "Thanks for the great breakfast," I said to Mom when I finished.

"Your father told me what you plan to do with the treasure if you find it." My mother beamed.

"Oh, yeah."

"I am proud of you too, Faith." Mom cleared my dishes away for me. "You better hurry. Your father is all ready to go."

Outside I saw Mrs. Smart stepping out of her truck. Dad loaded several shovels and an ax into her truck. She wore khaki shorts and a white blouse, a hard hat and hiking boots, and looked ready for a safari in Africa. A car with two men I didn't recognize pulled into the driveway and joined us. Just then, Dr. Smith's jeep drove up, too, and I groaned to think Judy would have to ruin this day, but she had not come. I guess Judy didn't want to move rocks around all day. Instead there was another man with Dr. Smith, making five adults all together, including my own father and Ms. Smart, who still had the map.

Dad saw me. "There you are, sweetie. Here's your work crew."

I laughed, "You mean you're all looking for treasure?"

"That's right, honey."

"We thought your idea about giving the treasure to the Nickels to rebuild their house was a great one," explained Ms. Smart. "Your dad called us last night to ask for our help. We're going to try to move those rocks and find the entrance to the cave."

"Wow," I said. "Let's go." I ran up the road, waving my arms for them to follow. The truck soon drove past me, but Dad ran to me and we walked together up to the cave. It felt great to have so many people believe in the treasure, and in me. It made me feel confident and strong. I felt the way Jesus must feel when we believe in Him and are able to do more than we ever thought we could.

At the cave, we found Dan trying to move the rocks himself. I was not at all surprised to find him but he was surprised to see me, and all the help we brought.

It took most of the morning to move the rocks. Everyone worked hard in the heat and I could understand why my father wanted me to put on lotion. The perspiration caused the gnats and other bugs to swarm around us annoyingly. By eleven-thirty we needed a break.

Mom and Sonny came up the path to the cave with a back pack full of chicken sandwiches and cookies. Mrs. Smart had packed soft drinks in a cooler in the truck and everyone stopped for a bite to eat and something to drink. Dan and I competed with each other over who had the sweatiest body. I let him win that one. My hands were red and sore from digging dirt away from between the rocks so that the men could get a handhold to pull them off the pile. With just a few rocks left on the pile now, I could see the ground. A spot in the middle of the pile looked odd to me. I couldn't see very clearly because the light of the sun barely touched the ground between the rocks. I ran to get a flashlight from my backpack in the truck and pointed the light directly in between the rocks where I saw a thing that made my heart jump. "I found it," I screamed. "I found it!"

"What?" said Dad rushing towards me. Everyone jumped up to see what I found, leaving their food on the ground.

"Look, Daddy! It's a ring."

Dad peered into the space between the rocks at the metal pull ring, the size of a man's fist. That meant there might be a door over the ground. "Let's go!" he shouted and with all the energy produced by the excitement of actually finding something, the men pulled away the rocks as if they were no more than rubber balls.

"Good golly," he said. "We were right!" We all stood circled around the door that laid flat to the ground, made of a single slab of wood. Bolted to the center of the door, lay the ring.

"Let's open it," said Dr. Smith.

"You do the honors," Dad said to me.

I reached down to pull the door open. I tugged and tugged but it would not give. Soon everyone tried to get a hold on the door. It gave a few inches while everyone pulled and tugged with two hands, until surprisingly, the edges of the door broke off.

"This wood's rotted. That door must be locked somehow," my dad said.

"That slab of wood has to be six inches thick," Dan cried.

"Get the ax," someone called. Ms. Smart scurried over to the truck and pulled out the ax. She gave it to the strongest man who I recognized as one of the firemen I'd seen in the fire truck the day Dan's house burnt down. Everyone called him Shantzie, except me and Dan. We called him Mr. Shantz. He whacked the door with such a powerful stroke that it shattered splinters of wood into the air. "Stand back," Dad said and he held a protective arm in front of Dan and me. Mr. Shantz hacked away at the rest of the door until it fell with a thud. Steps led down into the earth where a huge bolder sat right in the middle of the stairwell. A thick chain attached to the bolder had hung from the end of the pull ring to keep anyone from opening the door.

Dad turned on the flashlight and started down the steps, climbing over the boulder. No one followed. It didn't seem a very welcoming chamber and there was an unpleasant odor. As he reached the bottom of steps they heard him. "Oh, my," he said. "There's a skeleton down here. I think it is a human skeleton. Probably a runaway slave who got sick on the way."

"Let me see," yelled Dan, but Dad asked him to wait.

After what seemed like a long while, Dad walked back up the steps, his expression full of shock and horror at having confronted some of history's more evil side face-to-face. "This was part of the Underground Railroad, all right. There's lots of stuff down there, dishes, beds, even shreds of what used to be clothing." He looked at Dan and me, "No treasure, though."

Everyone got a chance to see the chamber. Ms. Smart got a tarp from her truck and laid it over the skeleton out of respect, which was fine with me. I did not like the skeleton down there, but the chamber interested me. A table stood in the middle of the room and several old cots sat around the walls. The low ceiling made the adults have to hunch over, and despite the hot day, the chamber felt cold and mildewed with moisture coming from somewhere. They all wondered who might have had to hide here and how many people might have used this place to escape to freedom.

Ms. Smart spent a lot of time in the chamber, going over every inch. She found an old child's toy harmonica, a couple of buttons, a slave bracelet stuffed in one of the mattresses on the old cot (and some baby mice), a set of old dishes that had been just lying on the table, and, her most important find, an old map that truly identified this place as being part of the official Underground Railroad. It was a real treasure for Ms. Smart and her library.

Outside, we returned to our lunches and finished eating. The morning had been both exciting and disappointing. Dan did not even eat. He sat alone and in silence. His disappointment showed clearly on his face and I could tell that he did not trust himself to talk. When I came over, he just hung his head and would not look at me.

"What about your house?" I asked, desperate to cheer him. "We haven't checked the other part of the map." Though I felt certain my father and his friends would not want to go poking around in the filthy ashes, I could not help but mention it.

Dan snapped his head to attention and a big grin stretched across his face. "You're right! I forgot about that." He jumped off the rock he'd been pouting on and bounced over into the group of men like Tigger in Winnie the Pooh. "My house, my house. We have to go to my house," he shouted.

Dr. Smith and some of the other men shook their heads, "I don't think so," they said. "It's dangerous. Someone could fall through floorboards or pieces of the foundation could fall. It's filthy, too. There's ashes and black dirt. The whole place smells."

Dan frowned at the bleak description of his house. He looked like he might cry. "Please, please. We can't give up now."

The men got up to go but Dad and Mr. Shantz remained.

"Please," Dan said as they told him good-bye.

Mr. Shantz stood up and looked at my dad, who nodded. "Okay, Dan," Mr. Shantz said. "We'll go."

Dan jumped for joy and hollered hurray. He hugged the big strong man, who smiled and hugged him back as if he were his own son. Then Mr. Shantz ruffled Dan's hair. "Are you in?" he asked me and Mom.

Mom said, "You bet we are."

*

There was not much left of the Nickels' house. The front doorway still stood upright on its foundation as if it hadn't heard that the rest of the house behind it had crumpled and burned away. Dan knew every part of the house, too, as if it were all still standing. Carefully he walked along the edges where the foundation met the floor. Ms. Smart and the other adults looked at the map that she had made with chalk and hairspray.

"If we follow the map like we did up at the cave, the path seems to disappear right above the North Star." Ms. Smart pointed at the portion of the rubbing from the carved paneling that clearly indicated that the North Star stood directly over the area in which the path disappeared. "It does show your house but I don't know why the North Star is over it. The North Star is on the other side of the sky in the summer. I'm certain of that," Ms. Smart said.

"The North Star is at different places in the sky at different times of the year." Dad scratched his head. "But it is clearly summertime in the carving. All the leaves are on the trees. It just doesn't seem to make sense."

"That's definitely the North Star," said Dan. "You can tell because here is the Little Dipper and the North Star is part of the Little Dipper."

"That's right," said Ms. Smart. "And right under the North Star is where the path ends."

"Oh, my," said Dan, hitting himself in the head for being so stupid. "That's the star that was on our house. It fell off. It was a weather vane with an angel holding an arrow to point the direction of the wind and above the angel is a big star." Dan pointed to it now. It lay impaled upside down in the dirt. I remembered seeing the weather vane stuck in the ground the first time I saw the house and knew it had fallen off before the fire.

"That would make sense. Can you remember what part of the house was under the weather vane?" Mr. Shantz asked Dan.

"It was right in the middle," said Dan. "I guess it would be in the kitchen. Yeah, because the chimney was on the other side of the family room and so that would be, yeah, the kitchen."

"Okay," said Mr. Shantz, "show us where your kitchen was."

Carefully, Dan, Dad and Mr. Shantz walked across what was left of Dan's house to the kitchen where the stove and the refrigerator still stood. Mr. Shantz walked carefully through the kitchen, stomping his shovel into the floorboards in front of him as he went when suddenly a whole square of flooring fell through. We all ran over and peered into the perfectly cut square of floor that had crashed down under the house.

"There it is," I whispered so softly it sounded like a sigh. We looked at each other and smiled. Down in the dirt floor we saw a door like the one we had seen by the cave. It had a pull ring on it.

Mr. Shantz took the ax and began to hack away at the rest of the door. This time we knew that a big boulder hung from a chain attached to the pull ring. The boulder crashed to the ground as the door fell away. Dad shined a flashlight down into the chamber. It was a much larger room than the one at the cave. There were bunks on all sides and in the middle of the floor was a large wooden trunk, locked with a metal chain.

I just knew it was the treasure.

***

Discussion Questions: Have you ever been close to getting something you really worked hard for, so close you can see and feel it? Maybe it was something you saved your money for, or a good grade in a subject you had to really study for. How did it feel when you finally got it? Many of us long for a close relationship with God. Do we have to work really hard to get it? Read Ephesians 2:8-10.

### Chapter 20

Mr. Shantz wiped his forehead, "I can't break the chain or the box," he gasped, handing the ax back to Dad. "Let me up out of here. We gotta pull the box up."

"Come on, kids. Let's go down to the hardware store and get us a rope to haul that chest up." Dad smiled at my mom. "You think you can rustle up some more food for everyone while we get the rope?"

Mom waved everyone back to our house, "You bet. I'll grill some hot dogs and hamburgers. Let's take a break."

Everyone felt hungry and thirsty, especially Mr. Shantz who had done all the heavy work.

Down at the hardware store, Dan and I ran into Judy and her mom. "You found a what?" yelled Judy.

"There's a treasure chest in my burned down house, right Faith?"

I laughed. "Yeah, just like you dream about."

Before long a group had gathered around them. Judy went outside and told anyone passing by about the treasure. Soon the group doubled in size and followed us back to Dan's house. Newspaper and TV reporters showed up. Everyone gasped when they got to the Nickels' house and saw the chamber, right in the middle of what used to be their kitchen floor.

The chamber in Dan's house had bunk beds built right into the walls. Twenty or more people could've hidden in this larger chamber at one time. Ms. Smart wouldn't let anyone go down. She explained to the group, "There are all sorts of things stored away inside, including an old sewing wheel and rolls of cloth for making clothes. It all needs to be carefully preserved. And who knows what we'll find in this trunk." Ms. Smart would not let the TV reports go down.

It took seven men to lift the trunk out using pulleys. Then Mr. Shantz took the ax and hacked away at the lock for a long time. Then another man took his place. It took five more men whacking at the chain for a good thirty minutes before it snapped and fell off. Everyone clapped.

"Well, who wants to be the one to open it?" One of the reporters asked.

"Dan?" My dad motioned to him to step forward, "why don't you take the honors? It is on your property."

"Come on Faith," said Dan, "let's open it together."

Dan smiled brightly as he walked up to the trunk with me. My heart was pounding with excitement. The trunk reached all the way up to our shoulders. The lid was very heavy. We lifted with all our might and an acrid smell of metal hit the air. The heavy lid started to fall back down and we both yelled at the same time, "Help." Dad and the rest of the people circling around us rushed forward to help heave the heavy lid open. Finally, it fell back and we looked inside.

The trunk held gold coins, thousands of them glittering in the sun, and worth a fortune. For a moment we could only stare, stunned by the reality of its worth when suddenly Dan let out a whooping yell and climbed into the trunk. I hopped in too, grabbing the gold coins in my hands to show everyone. Then Judy scrambled into the trunk, too, shoving coins in her pocket when she thought no one was looking. People clapped and yelled, "Hooray!" and Dan and I danced in the trunk, hardly able to believe our good fortune.

In only a few hours, the whole town knew. A video of our discovery ran nationwide. We even got phone calls to be on shows but we declined. School started in a few days and Mrs. Nickels and Mom wanted us focused on our school work.

*

"I will give you as much as you want," Dan told me later at the end of the week, when the excitement died down and we sat on the swing, talking it over.

"Will you give me the whole thing?" I asked, a little sad to realize the treasure didn't belong to me and I couldn't give it to him like I wanted to do.

Dan laughed. "That's not fair and you know it."

"I'm just testing you. I don't really need it like you do." In a way it turned out better that the treasure belonged to the Nickels. The Nickels would find it hard to accept charity.

"That's true. It will help us a lot. We're going to pay off my uncle's debts. Then we are going to turn this whole farm into something wonderful and rebuild our house and everything. No one's going to have to live in a shack anymore. Mom is going to fix up all the houses. And Mr. Sanchez is going to be the best manager." Dan smiled remembering all the plans his mother told him. Her sight grew better each day.

Looking back on all his troubles, Dan sighed, "It all changed that day you told me about God when we were sitting on the swing beside the fountain. That day I prayed for a long time and I knew God would make it okay. Do you remember?"

I nodded.

"You gave me more of a treasure that day, than when we found the trunk."

I shivered, suddenly remembering my promise to God that if He let me help Dan, I would share my treasure with him. I felt so happy I thought I would burst. I smiled shyly at Dan and thought again of Miss Burke, my old Sunday schoolteacher who always made her students memorize verses from the Bible. I told Dan, "Where your treasure is there your heart will be also, Matthew 6:21."

"Truer words were never spoken. I'll have to start reading that book," he smiled.

Later that evening I took a flashlight and went up to my parents' bedroom. "Can I sit on the chimney seat for a while?" I asked them. I had to go through their room to get there.

"It's a nice night for it," Dad said, but knowing only one person could fit on the porch at a time, he didn't offer to go along with me. "Just be careful."

From high on the roof porch, I looked at the night sky. It made me feel good to look out over the town. I remembered the map and I realized that the chimney seat did not just give access to the roof. I knew in my heart that it must have served as a watchtower. Captain Milner came here to watch for ships coming down the river. I could almost feel him sitting beside me. He must've sat on this stone seat where I sat now, and watched for ships containing runaway slaves so he could help them. No doubt the stowaway slaves disembarked from the ship when he gave the "alls clear" signal with the lantern my mom found, and then they ran for cover in the chambers, later to slip out in twos and threes for freedom northward. It must have been dangerous here at the Mason Dixon line, the border between the North and the South, because slave hunters could capture known runaways and bring them back.

What a fine house this is, I thought, and what good people have lived here. I had an urge to kneel on the seat and pray. As I peeked out over the edge, I prayed, "I knew You gave Daddy something to do when we moved here. I knew You wanted him to use his skills to operate on people and to heal them. And I know You always use Mommy to help people. But I never thought You would use me, Lord. I never thought I was big enough to be much help. And I never thought when I made that promise to share the treasure if I ever found it, that You were my treasure and that it was You I was going to share. I love you."

Just then I saw a falling star, drawing a line across the sky like an exclamation point. I laughed, feeling God's embrace in a warm breeze.

"I love You, too" God answered in His own special way.

## ***

Discussion Questions: Do you think God had a plan for Faith moving to Lacawalla? Do you think Faith trusted God with her life? How do you think God works in your life? Read Romans 8:28.

*****

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading this book. I teach children in Kindergarten through the eighth grade how to use a computer. I also teach Sunday school to high school kids. I love to be around kids because they have so much energy and curiosity. When I go to work in the morning, I thank God that I will be working with kids all day instead of adults! In Sunday school I get to really talk about God and Jesus and that is so important to me. He loves us so much and He wants us all to know Him.

I loved sharing this story with you. I hope you enjoyed every page. Visit my book's Smashwords' page and let me know how you liked it.

Katherine Kendall

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