Big Lies in a Small Town - Diane Chamberlain Page 0,126

to ask if she planned to leave me in the closet all the time, but thought better of expressing any doubt. Gulping, I pushed the wall back in place. Then I stood in the narrow pitch-black space, hardly able to breathe. Seconds passed and my breathing quickly grew shallow. Panicky, I tried to find a knob or something that would allow me to open the false wall again, but my hands felt only smooth wood. I called to Aunt Jewel, pounding my fist against the wall.

The wall tilted inward again and I let out my breath. “Scary in there, ain’t it?” she said with a laugh. I asked if there was a way to open the wall from the inside on my own, thinking ahead. What if the police came and no one was home to let me out? They’d find my skeleton in the wall someday, generations from now.

Aunt Jewel showed me how to dig my fingers into the edge of the door to pull it open again. She helped me step through the forest of clothing. She said finding me a hiding place was the easy part and I asked her what the hard part was.

“Telling Abe and Agnes—Jesse’s mama and daddy—you’re stayin’ here for the next seven months,” she said.

At that very moment, I heard the sound of voices coming from downstairs and my heart leaped into my throat. I reached for the knob of the closet, but Aunt Jewel set her hand on my wrist. She cocked her head to listen. It was just the family, she said. She told me to go back in Nellie’s room and stay there. She’d talk to them.

So that is where I am right now. In Nellie’s room, sitting on her bed. From here, I can look out the window at the long straight dirt road leading up to the farm. I’m watching for a police car. Why haven’t they come yet? The only reason I can think of is that they’ve already caught Jesse. I hope that isn’t so. Would they torture him to tell them where I am? I can’t bear to think of what they’d do to him if they caught him. Please, God, keep him safe!

And where are they looking for me?

I picture Karl going to Miss Myrtle’s house, asking her if she’s seen me. He’ll tell her I’m wanted for the murder of Martin Drapple and she won’t believe him. “Oh, that’s nonsense!” she’ll say. “Why, Anna wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

And he’ll say, “She killed him with the claw end of a hammer.” He’ll tell her that she’s lucky to be rid of me. That I’m dangerous.

I feel bad about that, imagining Miss Myrtle thinking of me as a danger.

I think of my clothes and books, my perfume and rouge and everything else I left at her house. It’s likely I’ll never see any of it again. Other than my purse and the clothes on my back, the only thing I have with me is this journal.

4 P.M.

I guess a half hour or longer passed as I sat there alone in Nellie’s room, my eyes glued to the long driveway, waiting to see Karl’s car coming to take me away. I could no longer hear voices downstairs and wondered how Jesse’s parents had reacted to Aunt Jewel telling them that they now had a fugitive on their hands. I heard light, rapid footsteps on the stairs, and in a moment, Nellie burst into the room, pigtails bouncing.

“We get to sleep in the same room!” she said, her huge eyes twinkling. She is so adorable. I’d felt drawn to her when I met her before and I’m even more so now. I tried to act like everything is fine as I talked to her. I didn’t want to frighten her. I told her I would try not to take up too much space in her room and she said she didn’t care, that she liked sharing.

She bounced a little on the bed. She pointed to my journal on my lap and asked me what it was. I explained that it’s like a diary, then realized she probably had no idea what a diary was. “It’s where you can write down your thoughts, just for yourself. So you can keep them to yourself,” I said. “No one else should read them.”

She leaned over and lifted the pages a bit, just enough to see my writing. She told me I wrote “that funny way. Where the letters get