We Hold These Truths Page 6

  When they were almost to School Street, Ben stopped and dropped to his knees. “Too hot—I have to rest!”

  The others flopped to the ground too, all three of them panting like dogs. It was at least ninety degrees outside—a sharp contrast with the cool basement.

  Ben lay back, looking up into the swaying canopy of a big sugar maple. Any other year, he’d have been so happy on an afternoon like this—school nearly over, homework and tests all done, nothing to do but swim and sail and hang out by the harbor—at least until his mom and dad got him started on the summer chores.

  But the end of school this year? It was so different.

  Everything was different.

  And with his parents separated, this whole summer was messed up.

  He tried to find a word for the way he was feeling.

  Sad? Yes, but it was more than that.

  Angry? A little. More like a lot, at least sometimes.

  Tired? Definitely some of that.

  Then it struck him.

  I’m feeling . . . old!

  It seemed crazy, but that was how he felt: old. Maybe it was because everything seemed so heavy—like the feeling he’d had down in that sub-basement. Except now it wasn’t the weight of the earth pressing in on him. It was the past—feeling responsible for saving all of it, for protecting it.

  The past was crushing him—and the future felt even heavier.

  His next thought shocked him.

  Maybe the old school really should go, like Robert said during the fake debate—out with the old, in with the new. Let the future come as fast and nasty as it wants to. There’s nothing in the past you can really count on anyway—and you can’t trust the future either. You can’t trust anything or anybody, not ever.

  Almost as fast, another thought burst in—a big, loud No!

  Ben knew all that negative stuff wasn’t true. Because his mom was still his mom, and his dad was still his dad, and he knew he could absolutely trust each of them, no matter what.

  So . . . what’s my real problem? What do I actually want?

  It was the third time today he’d asked himself that question.

  An answer came—weird, but still, it was an answer, and it felt true.

  I want the past and the future to shut up and leave me alone—I want to think about now.

  Just as quickly, another challenge.

  So, what’s stopping you?

  Ben shut his eyes and tried to get his mind around that—no past, no future, only now.

  Patches of sunlight fluttered across his eyelids, and he smelled the salt of the ocean. Grass tickled the back of his neck, and the warm breeze brushed his arms and cheek. Along with rustling leaves and the cries of seagulls, he could hear Jill and Robert breathing only a few feet away.

  He had to admit it—shut out all the other stuff, and now felt pretty good.

  And deep down, a tiny part of his mind also admitted that hanging around with Jill was a pretty big part of what made now feel good.

  And, yeah, it was good that Gerritt was here too—he was part of the new now. He just wasn’t as big a part of what made it feel good.

  Ben smiled.

  The new now.

  He liked the sound of it.

  And this new now wasn’t over, not nearly over!

  There was stuff that all three of them needed to do, together. Now.

  Because they had to, right?

  Right!

  Ben got to his feet.

  “We’d better get going, guys.”

  He reached a hand and pulled Robert up, then did the same for Jill.

  “We’ve still got a lot to do.”

  “Yeah? Like what?” asked Gerritt.

  That tone again. But Ben didn’t react.

  He said, “Well, for starters, before I walk to the marina, I’m gonna stop at my mom’s house and play with my dog a few minutes—want to come?”

  Instantly, Jill said, “I do!”

  Gerritt smiled—he tried not to, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Yeah,” he said, “why not? Nelson’s the only dog on this planet that I actually like.”

  Four minutes later when Nelson burst out of the kitchen door in a tail-wagging frenzy, Ben watched Jill and Robert laugh and hoot as they tried to catch him.

  It was the best chunk of now that he’d seen all day long.

  CHAPTER 13

  Sinkhole

  A quick look around Tom Benton’s living room told Ben that he and his dad were the last to arrive. Tom had set up a few folding chairs, and Ben wasn’t surprised to see that there was a table loaded with snacks over near the big windows that faced Barclay Bay—the old guy was crazy about fresh fruit. There was also a tall chocolate cake on the table too, probably brought by Mrs. Keane—at least he hoped so.

  The air conditioner in a side window was making a lot of noise, but the room was still very warm. The only person who didn’t look hot was Robert’s grandmother. Ben was glad to see her, glad that Gerritt had brought her on board. It was a good sign that the guy just might be a human.

  About two hours ago Jill had told him about this meeting—it had been her idea. “Everything depends on the next day or so, and we all have to be on the same page. And the best way to make that happen is to have a meeting. And you’re in charge of running it.”

  That’s what she’d said.

  So he’d only had a couple hours to dread it and fret about it—which was plenty of time to get his stomach tied up in knots, and in spite of how hot it was as he and his dad had walked over from the marina, his hands felt cold and clammy.

  But looking around the room now, he felt a little better. First off, it wasn’t a very big group: Jill and Robert, Tom Benton, Mrs. Keane, Robert’s grandmother, Jill’s parents, his mom and dad, and the lawyer, Harold Chamden—ten people, not counting himself.

  Then Ben recalled that quite a few others were missing: Arthur Rydens from the bank, the seven kids he had recruited during social studies today, and also Mrs. Hinman. So, including himself, that made . . . twenty—twenty Keepers of the School! He remembered how alone he had felt the day Mr. Keane had died, leaving him totally responsible for trying to save the school.

  This was tons better!

  His dad walked over and sat near his mom, and he wished he could do the same. But Jill caught his eye and gave him a look that said, Well? Get on with it!

  Ben cleared his throat and looked down at the items he’d written on an index card. The list was very short.

  “Um . . . hi, everybody. We should get started. First, I want to ask Robert to tell about what we found down in the sub-basement of the school today, when we found the fourth safeguard.”

  Just that quickly, Ben realized that being in charge of a meeting wasn’t so bad after all—you got to tell others to do stuff.

  Ben watched how different people reacted as Gerritt gave a short summary of their expedition, holding up his iPad now and then to show pictures of all the discoveries. His grandmother looked so proud of him, and it was obvious that everyone was impressed with his clear explanations—even Jill.

  The lawyer, Mr. Chamden, was scribbling notes as fast as he could on a long yellow pad, and when Robert stopped, he had the first question.

  “Can you e-mail me files of all those images, and a short explanation of where the objects are located?”

  Robert nodded. “All set with that.”

  Mrs. Keane raised her hand, and when Ben pointed at her, she spoke to the lawyer.

  “But won’t all those wonderful things the children have found stop the developer? How could they still have the right to tear down the building?”

  The lawyer said, “Well, it’s probably just like the situation with the Underground Railroad hideout. Legally, the Glennley Group already has a very strong claim on the entire property, and as long as they act to preserve historically important elements, they’ll most likely be allowed to proceed with their plans.” He shrugged. “We’ll just have to make our bes
t case to a judge and see what happens.”

  That seemed to stun the group a little, and Ben felt like he should move to something more cheerful. So he asked the lawyer, “Has there been progress with the real estate stuff?”

  Mr. Chamden smiled broadly. “Absolutely! We’ve put the Glennley Realty Group almost out of business up and down the coast. All the sellers were very happy to get better offers, and they’re glad to be dealing with local people, too. This is going to take a big bite from the profits Glennley planned on, and it’s also going save a lot of shoreline from overdevelopment.” He shrugged again. “Of course, I’m not saying that this is going to make Glennley back away from the deal. They’ll still make plenty of money from the theme park.”

  Another murmur of concern rippled through the group, and again Ben wanted to lighten things up.

  He smiled around the room and said, “Um . . . well, the good news is . . .” But then he couldn’t think of anything, not really good news. So he said, “. . . well, we have a whole day and a half to find the captain’s last safeguard, and I forgot to mention that we recruited seven new kids today to help us out, and our social studies teacher, too, Mrs. Hinman. Plus, let’s not forget that there’s a chocolate cake and two huge bowls of fruit over there.” That got a little laugh, but it didn’t last long.

  Ben asked, “Does anyone else have news? Or ideas about steps we can take during the next day and a half? Or . . . anything?”

  Jill’s mom stood up.

  “Well, I think we should launch a huge public relations attack against Glennley—send out everything we have about their fake janitors and the shameful way they stole that Underground Railroad site. And we should also use the new will, plus tell all about these things the kids found today, which ought to get the preservation community excited again. We should throw everything at them at once, and get the whole region stirred up about this. The Glennley company has to care about its public image, right? So let’s take the fight straight to them and make a big stink, and let’s do it tomorrow, before it’s too late! That’s what I say!”

  The lawyer looked like he wanted to answer her, but Robert spoke first—and Ben was glad that he began so respectfully. Jill was watching him with her eyes narrowed, and a fight right now between Gerritt and Jill was the last thing the other Keepers needed to see.

  “We’ve been thinking about all that too, Mrs. Acton. And it’s probably going to happen pretty much like you said—except not tomorrow.” He flipped open his iPad and swiped quickly at the screen a few times. “Listen to what Captain Oakes said about the last safeguard—this is from the message about the clues for the safeguards, which was the first thing that Ben and Jill found: ‘Above all, seek the final safeguard ONLY IF YOU MUST—for once the last is found, our school will change forever.’ So this last safeguard? It’s probably something pretty special—the captain sure seems to think so. And before we hand everything over to some judge and all the Glennley lawyers to fight about, we’ve still got some time inside the school building. And we want to use that time and give it our best shot.”

  The lawyer wanted the last word. He stood up and slowly looked around, and Ben could picture him standing in a courtroom, delivering the final argument of a trial.

  “No matter what might be found, and regardless of all the documents and evidence that we submit to the legal system or to the larger court of public opinion, there is still a very strong possibility that the Glennley position is just too strong and too well protected. To be completely honest, at this point, I cannot imagine what could fully stop their plans for the theme park. And I wouldn’t be doing my job properly if I didn’t prepare each of you for the distinct possibility that all our work may well come to nothing. . . . I’m sorry, but those are the facts . . . as I see them . . . at this moment.”

  Mr. Chamden sat down, and in the silence, Ben felt like the meeting had just slid sideways into a huge sinkhole, demolishing all their hope and optimism—a total loss. With the possible exception of the cake.

  Help came from an unexpected source.

  Robert’s grandmother got to her feet. “I’m certainly not an expert on any of this. But I have to say that I am so pleased and impressed with everything that these young people have been doing—with all their spirit and initiative. And no matter what happens, a lot of good is going to come out of what they’ve done—I am completely sure of it!”

  All the grown-ups jumped up and applauded, including the lawyer. And then Tom called out, “Well, how about we all have some food!”

  The meeting was over.

  Ben was right about the cake—Mrs. Keane had brought it, and it tasted even better than the last time he’d eaten some.

  But as good as the cake was, including the wonderful cold glass of milk he guzzled afterward, Ben still couldn’t get the lawyer’s last words out of his head: . . . all our work may well come to nothing.

  CHAPTER 14

  Jaws of the Beast

  Tuesday looked like a beautiful June morning—even though it was still uncomfortably warm and humid. Bright sun, every tree in full leaf, and each bush and flower around the schoolyard bursting with color. Plus, Ben had decided that the kids sitting on either side of him were turning out to be real friends—and Jill might become more than that . . . someday.

  But none of that helped. Ben felt awful—all of them did.

  They sat on Captain Oakes’s gravestone, silent and grim, because they couldn’t take their eyes off the diesel-drinking monster that had crept onto Washington Street during the night. Even though it was more than a hundred yards away, the size and power of the demolition machine still overwhelmed them.

  He and Robert and Jill had met at school a half hour early so they could get a head start on the final safeguard search, but the destructive power of the huge contraption had hit them like a punch in the stomach. Walking slowly around the thing a while ago, it had reminded Ben of a huge trebuchet, one of those medieval war engines for smashing castles.

  Mostly yellow, it had tractor treads over twenty feet long. The engine unit was as big as a dump truck, and it had a huge jointed neck that stretched more than sixty feet—it needed its own extra trailer. And at the end of that neck was a set of jaws that made it look like a mechanical dragon. The mouth of the beast had been spray painted a bloody red—somebody’s idea of a joke. Bright metal glinted where the steel teeth had been polished by chewing on concrete and brick.

  Ben recalled the nightmare he’d had about the death of the school—he had dreamed of a wrecking ball bursting through the walls. Somehow, this seemed worse, to have giant jaws crunching the place to bits. And the grin on the thing? It reminded him of Lyman’s smile.

  That thought had an effect on Ben. It made him mad—and that sharp burst of anger woke him up.

  “Hey,” he said, “that thing’s nothing but a pile of junk chained to a trailer, right? And it can roll away from here just the way it came. So let’s stay focused, okay?”

  His voice sounded hollow, as if he didn’t believe his own words.

  He tried again, putting his heart into it.

  “And don’t forget the codicil, and the pictures from the underground room, and all the other last-minute stuff we’ve got cooking. Come on, guys, we can’t wimp out now. ‘After one still star, horizons afar’—that’s what we need to think about. This is a big day for us—it’s our star search day! There’s not really time before homeroom now, but at least we can show Wally and Lyman that we haven’t given up. Let’s show ’em that we still own this place!”

  Jill moved first. She turned away from the big machine and stood up.

  “Yeah,” she said, “no point in sitting here like monkeys on an island. Let’s go, Robert.”

  Robert stayed put. “I don’t need a cheerleader to tell me what I should do, and I’ll sit here on my island as long as I want to. So why don’t you shut up—and go fetch me a banana.”

  It was more of that same surly attitude—which had gotten much worse since
Gerritt’s run-in with Wally yesterday morning.

  Ben was afraid Jill was going to explode, and when she turned and took a step toward Robert, he expected the worst. But she looked over at Ben with a devilish smile and said, “You know what monkeys like more than bananas? They like to play . . . chase the bag!” And without warning she grabbed Robert’s backpack and jumped to the ground.

  “C’mon, Ben, let’s play catch!”

  Ben hopped down, and Jill tossed him the backpack.

  “Hey!” Robert shouted. “The good camera’s in there!”

  Jill hooted like a chimp, and said, “Me doesn’t understand!”

  “You are dead,” Robert yelled, scrambling to his feet. “Do you understand that?”

  Jill grabbed the backpack from Ben and took off toward the front of the school. “Big words, banana brain,” she called over her shoulder. “Let’s see if you’re monkey enough to catch me!”

  Robert leapt off the gravestone, and as he went past Ben, he landed a fist on his shoulder.

  Ben winced, but then he grinned and said, “Not bad, for a monkey!”

  Gerritt stopped short. “Yeah? Well, here comes another one!”

  But Ben was ready, and he dodged the next punch, and he also saw that Robert smiled a little—it was all pretty stupid.

  Ben backed away, so Robert turned and started toward the front of the school. But then Ben called, “Hey, Gerritt—hang on a second. I’ve gotta tell you something.”

  Gerritt stopped again and turned to face him, defiant. “Yeah? What? ”

  Ben almost chickened out, almost said, Forget it. But he walked toward Gerritt and made himself keep talking. “Yesterday, before school? I was hiding in the bushes along the path toward the Annex—I was gonna to jump out and scare you, just a goofy prank.”

  Ben saw a quick ripple of thought cross Robert’s face as the memory came back.

  Gerritt looked him in the eye. “So . . . you saw Wally, too, right?”

  Ben nodded. “Yeah, and I saw you shove right past him—which was awesome!” He paused, waiting for the explanation, but Robert didn’t seem like he was going to say anything.