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Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon
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complained.
“It was probably you,” Glenda said. “You’re always moving it around from the kitchen to your study or taking it into the living room to show it off when someone comes visiting. I’m sure everyone in Rancho del Oro has seen that bank.”
I broke in. “It looks like a bank building, but why is it named Dime Box?”
Gabe grinned. “I got it thirty or forty years ago in Dime Box, Texas. Yep, there’s really a town with that name. That old bank is probably a collector’s item by this time, and I’m guessing it must hold a good hundred dollars’ worth of dimes.”
“It’s heavy enough,” Glenda remarked.
“Will you look for it?” Gabe asked. “It’s got to be somewhere around the house.”
Glenda and I both agreed to look, and later we did, but we couldn’t find the bank. Glenda wasn’t worried about its disappearance. “Gabe just laid it down in some odd place he’s forgotten about,” she said. “Sooner or later it will show up.”
I remembered the conversation at Mrs. Barrow’s luncheon about people mislaying things. My face must have shown what I was thinking, because Glenda said, “His age has nothing to do with the Dime Box being missing. It’s just the problem of living in a new place and getting used to new things. Why, my goodness, that bank may be hidden in the same place as my amethyst bracelet. Someplace safe. New cubbyholes …”
Glenda and Gabe had lived here well over a year. Their house wasn’t exactly new. I couldn’t help being puzzled by the missing bank. I had noticed the Dime Box on the counter on Monday morning, while I ate breakfast, but I couldn’t remember when I had last seen it there.
“Where is your amethyst bracelet?” I asked Glenda.
She started, then looked down, pink flooding her cheeks. “I wish I knew,” she said.
“You’ve lost it?”
“No. Only misplaced it,” she answered. “I remember putting it in a place where no one could find it. At least, I think I did. I meant to do so.” She looked up at me and shrugged. “It’s somewhere in this house.”
“Was the Dime Box near the back door last night?” I quietly asked Glenda when we were out of Gabe’s hearing.
“I don’t think so,” she said, but I wondered if she was right.
The next day, aside from time spent with Ashley, I helped Glenda with odd jobs—like reorganizing everything in the linen closet. I played endless games of gin rummy with Glenda and Gabe, and I double-checked Glenda, who made sure Gabe took all his medications by making a chart and using a kitchen timer.
However, in the late evening, when the house seemed a small, brightly lit oasis in a desert of blackness, I couldn’t help feeling that someone was out there watching us. I knew I must be wrong and only imagining things, but in that dark hole of a ranch, when the silence grew menacing, I kept listening intently for something to break the pattern. When it did, when there was a rustle outside, or the snap of a twig, or the thud of what might be a footfall, I jumped, holding my breath.
It didn’t help that Glenda was just as nervous as I was. We didn’t speak about it, but I could tell we felt the same. We both seemed to be waiting for what would happen next.
WHEN MILLIE LEE ARRIVED ON FRIDAY MORNING TO CLEAN , Ashley wasn’t with her.
Millie Lee, busy pulling cleaning supplies from the top shelf of the pantry, didn’t look at me. “Ashley said I should tell you she was busy this mornin’,” Millie Lee said. Then, lowering her voice, as though she were talking to herself, she added, “That girl’s just as aggravatin’ as her mother.”
The way Millie Lee was grumping around, I began to suspect that she and Ashley had had a major disagreement. I was glad I wasn’t the one Ashley was avoiding.
Because Ashley didn’t talk much when we were together, I’d hunt for something to chat about. Last time I’d opened up about my brother Hayden, who at ten was a real pest, and I’d told a
“It was probably you,” Glenda said. “You’re always moving it around from the kitchen to your study or taking it into the living room to show it off when someone comes visiting. I’m sure everyone in Rancho del Oro has seen that bank.”
I broke in. “It looks like a bank building, but why is it named Dime Box?”
Gabe grinned. “I got it thirty or forty years ago in Dime Box, Texas. Yep, there’s really a town with that name. That old bank is probably a collector’s item by this time, and I’m guessing it must hold a good hundred dollars’ worth of dimes.”
“It’s heavy enough,” Glenda remarked.
“Will you look for it?” Gabe asked. “It’s got to be somewhere around the house.”
Glenda and I both agreed to look, and later we did, but we couldn’t find the bank. Glenda wasn’t worried about its disappearance. “Gabe just laid it down in some odd place he’s forgotten about,” she said. “Sooner or later it will show up.”
I remembered the conversation at Mrs. Barrow’s luncheon about people mislaying things. My face must have shown what I was thinking, because Glenda said, “His age has nothing to do with the Dime Box being missing. It’s just the problem of living in a new place and getting used to new things. Why, my goodness, that bank may be hidden in the same place as my amethyst bracelet. Someplace safe. New cubbyholes …”
Glenda and Gabe had lived here well over a year. Their house wasn’t exactly new. I couldn’t help being puzzled by the missing bank. I had noticed the Dime Box on the counter on Monday morning, while I ate breakfast, but I couldn’t remember when I had last seen it there.
“Where is your amethyst bracelet?” I asked Glenda.
She started, then looked down, pink flooding her cheeks. “I wish I knew,” she said.
“You’ve lost it?”
“No. Only misplaced it,” she answered. “I remember putting it in a place where no one could find it. At least, I think I did. I meant to do so.” She looked up at me and shrugged. “It’s somewhere in this house.”
“Was the Dime Box near the back door last night?” I quietly asked Glenda when we were out of Gabe’s hearing.
“I don’t think so,” she said, but I wondered if she was right.
The next day, aside from time spent with Ashley, I helped Glenda with odd jobs—like reorganizing everything in the linen closet. I played endless games of gin rummy with Glenda and Gabe, and I double-checked Glenda, who made sure Gabe took all his medications by making a chart and using a kitchen timer.
However, in the late evening, when the house seemed a small, brightly lit oasis in a desert of blackness, I couldn’t help feeling that someone was out there watching us. I knew I must be wrong and only imagining things, but in that dark hole of a ranch, when the silence grew menacing, I kept listening intently for something to break the pattern. When it did, when there was a rustle outside, or the snap of a twig, or the thud of what might be a footfall, I jumped, holding my breath.
It didn’t help that Glenda was just as nervous as I was. We didn’t speak about it, but I could tell we felt the same. We both seemed to be waiting for what would happen next.
WHEN MILLIE LEE ARRIVED ON FRIDAY MORNING TO CLEAN , Ashley wasn’t with her.
Millie Lee, busy pulling cleaning supplies from the top shelf of the pantry, didn’t look at me. “Ashley said I should tell you she was busy this mornin’,” Millie Lee said. Then, lowering her voice, as though she were talking to herself, she added, “That girl’s just as aggravatin’ as her mother.”
The way Millie Lee was grumping around, I began to suspect that she and Ashley had had a major disagreement. I was glad I wasn’t the one Ashley was avoiding.
Because Ashley didn’t talk much when we were together, I’d hunt for something to chat about. Last time I’d opened up about my brother Hayden, who at ten was a real pest, and I’d told a
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