Effie Starr Zook Has One More Question by Martha Freeman

Author:Martha Freeman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster/Paula Wiseman Books

CHAPTER

18

The Museum of the Town of Penn Creek, identified by a plaque affixed to the wrought-iron fence out front, was the best-kept old house on a tree-lined block of old houses. Out front in the driveway was a small silver car.

Effie pushed her bike up the walk and leaned it against the four steps that led to the front door. A moment later she stood in a wood-paneled entrance hall with marble tiles on the floor.

It was all really nice. No cobwebs. No dust. No damp smell.

Directly to Effie’s left was a wide doorway that led into what probably used to be a sitting room. Above it was a carved wooden sign that read DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF GUSTAVUS AND EFFIE ZOOK. There was a staircase to the right of the doorway and beside it a desk. On the desk were a lamp, a call bell, a guest book, and a pen.

Effie signed her name in the book, noticing that she was the first visitor that day. The only other person on the page had visited the Saturday before. Effie could read only the initials of the scrawled names, T-squiggle, S-squiggle. Under hometown, he or she had written more legibly “Harrisburg.”

Effie tapped the call bell and heard quick, light footsteps in response.

“Good morning! Good morning!” called a man’s voice from the top of the stairs. “Why,” he said when he saw her, “you’re Miss Zook, aren’t you?”

Effie realized she had seen the man in the crowd at the BFA booth at Fourthfest. In a sea of T-shirts, his neat polo had stood out. Also, he was one of the few men there without a beard.

“Good morning, uh”—she squinted at the name tag on his lapel—“Mr. Barnes. Do I need to buy a ticket?”

“No charge,” said Mr. Barnes. “When your great-grandparents donated the building, they also donated money to sustain operations.”

“I didn’t know they donated the building,” Effie said.

“Oh my, yes.” Mr. Barnes was a young man with light hair. He spoke fast and moved with birdlike quickness. “Mr. Zook was a great man, a wonderful civic booster, and very generous. Are you here to learn more about him?”

“And my great-grandmother, too,” said Effie, “but I’m sure the other exhibits are also excellent.”

“They are,” Mr. Barnes agreed, “but the average person is more interested in the inventor of the barf—that is, the emesis—bag than in the regional history of alfalfa production. I assume you already know the basics of your family story?”

“I know Gus Zook was a great man,” said Effie, “and his wife was kind. And I know that because of his patent on the invention, my mom and my Aunt Clare get 1.7 cents for every emesis bag that’s ever sold.”

Mr. Barnes’s eyebrows shot up. “Why, there must be millions of emesis bags sold!”

“Many millions,” Effie agreed. “And I have a question if it’s okay. Do you know anything about bad blood between the Zook family and the Yoders? Bad blood means something bad happened a long time ago and everybody is still mad.

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