The Saddle Creek Series 5-Book Bundle. Shelley Peterson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ one day, mark my words.”

      “Ambrose?” asked Abby.

      “Yes, it’s me.”

      “Thanks for the encouragement.”

      “My pleasure. Your coyote is outside guarding us, Abby. He’s a good animal.”

      “Yes, he is. He always protects me.”

      “He’s protecting us all. I’ll report back.”

      Ambrose was gone. Abby briefly wondered what he’d meant, then she turned all her attention to the stage. The scene had begun.

      Cody crouched outside the theatre, quivering with fear, but biding his time. The Bad Man had finished digging holes and placing upright sticks all around the back of the theatre. A lot of them had been placed at the doors. Now, he was uncoiling a skinny, long white rope. He ran it from stick to stick, then fed it through his fingers until it reached his car.

      Behind him, Cody could sense movement. He didn’t look. He didn’t need to. The moment was coming when the coyotes would converge on him. He was ready.

      The Bad Man started the motor. He leaned out of his machine and made fire with a little stick. He put the fire to the end of the rope and watched it burn.

      The wild coyotes came slowly, stealthily, quietly. Cody waited for just the right moment.

      When they were almost upon him, Cody jumped up into the air and raced to the Bad Man’s machine. Five howling coyotes followed, snapping and growling.

      Owens was shocked. His eyes bulged. He pulled his legs into his car, preparing for a speedy getaway. Cody was too quick. He leapt into the car, over Owens’ legs and out the passenger side window. Owens howled and raised his arms in alarm. The wild coyotes streamed into Owens’ car. He hollered as they ripped and tore and panicked.

      Cody watched as the leader and one other leapt out the window and headed back home in full flight.

      Owens gunned the engine, pulled his door shut, then started to drive off as two more coyotes scrambled out the driver’s side window. Realizing there was still one more inside the car, Owens slammed on his brakes. He jumped out, tattered and bloody, followed by the last coyote, who shot out of the car like a cannonball.

      Owens had left his car in drive. It began to roll slowly down the theatre lane toward the road. Owens desperately stumbled after it as fast as he could. He reached the car door with outstretched fingers and awkwardly managed to pull himself in. He drove haltingly away, cursing bitterly.

      Cody observed the flame as it ate the rope, inching closer and closer to the door where his Abby had entered the building.

      He sniffed the air. He felt fear. He puzzled about how to make his fear go away.

      The rope was now only six feet from the theatre door. The flame was moving faster, picking up momentum. Cody didn’t like it.

      He loped over to the flame. It was too hot to pick up. He grabbed the end of the white rope closest to the door and tugged it loose. With the rope in his mouth, still burning quickly, Cody ran toward the rusted water trough in the little paddock beside the barn. He dropped it in. There was a little sizzle as the flame was extinguished by dirty rainwater at the bottom.

      His fear had gone. Darkness had fallen and all was well. He would lie down and wait for his Abby.

      Act 2, scene 1, the carnival, went off as well as possible with twenty first-time actors adapting to their costumes. Act 2, scene 2, began with Geppetto searching the Truant Sea for Pinocchio. This was the giant dogfish scene. The huge iron beast opened his jaws to swallow Geppetto. Its razor-sharp teeth flashed, and it roared like an angry sea. Abby could barely repress a terrified squeal. She was expected to walk in there? Talk about suspension of disbelief!

      “Abby,” came a now-familiar whisper in her ear.

      “Later, Ambrose! I’m about to go on!”

      “You’ve got oodles of time. Pinocchio hasn’t even swum out there yet.”

      “You’re right. I’m just jumpy.”

      “Very understandable. Anyway, I’m reporting back. Cody led a pack of coyotes through Samuel Owens’ car and then stopped the fuse from reaching the fireworks. Everything’s fine.”

      Abby was stunned. “What did you say?”

      “Later. Gotta go.”

      “Ambrose, I didn’t understand a word you just said!”

      But he was gone. Abby was momentarily dazed. Fireworks? Owens? Coyotes? Everything’s fine?

      She’d have to ask Ambrose later, because her entrance was coming up. What was her line? She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the script. Abby knelt at a stage light and peered closely. Here it was:

      “The Blue-Winged Fairy appears as they hug and dance in their joy at being reunited. She nods wisely, and says, ‘Loving father, Geppetto. Brave little puppet, Pinocchio.’”

      I can do that, Abby thought.

      The next morning, Joy Featherstone and Robert Wick drove to Samuel Owens’ mansion. It was ten o’clock.

      “There were a lot of firecrackers,” said Robert, eyes on the road. “Big ones, too. Would’ve made quite the racket.”

      “Go through this for me one more time, Robert. Why are we going to see Owens when we still have so much to do before the rehearsal this afternoon?” Joy was tired. They hadn’t finished last night until after midnight. After they’d sent the actors home, they’d discussed wardrobe changes, lighting, sound effects, and production details until they were exhausted and could work no more. Everything must be perfect by opening night.

      “Abby told us that Ambrose told her that Owens dug in firecrackers around the theatre and was going to set them off. With everybody in the theatre. And firecrackers were there. You have to admit it.”

      “Right. So we say to Samuel, ‘A ghost told us that you were doing bad things last night.’ Ambrose also told Abby that Cody and a pack of wild coyotes thwarted him. Do we mention that, too?”

      “Come on, Joy, I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to get into details, I’m merely going to offer to sell him my upper field.”

      Joy rubbed her weary eyes. “Tell me why.”

      “He wanted to buy the whole property so he could look out his windows and see nothing but land that belonged to him, right?”

      “Right. According to Gus LeFarge.” Joy lay back in the seat and rested her head. “But the day the ghost scared him, he said he wanted to buy the farm to burn down the theatre.”

      “True, but that was all bluster. Hopefully he’s forgotten all about that, and has gone back to his original goal. And the upper field is the only part of Wick Farm that he can see from his windows.” Robert looked pleased with himself. “He can’t see the barn.”

      “You jump to the conclusion that Owens will leave us alone if he owns the field.”

СКАЧАТЬ