Wrestling with Tom Sawyer by L. L. Samson

Author:L. L. Samson [Samson, L.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780310740582
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Published: 2013-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

twelve

Cato Grubbs Goes Too Far

or Be Careful When You Try to Teach Someone a Lesson. Your Regret Could Easily Outweigh Their Learning Experience. Then Again, You Might Have No Regrets at All.

Ophelia! Linus!” Aunt Portia called up the attic staircase.

“Are you children all right?”

Ophelia ran to the steps. “We’re fine,” she whispered. So far Uncle Augustus didn’t know about the attic, and they wanted to keep it that way.

“What about Tom?” Aunt Portia seemed to be only a voice in the dark stairwell.

“I ain’t skeered!” shouted Tom.

Ophelia winced and cast a “Shh!” in his general direction. “Where’s Uncle Auggie?”

“He decided to go play cribbage. Don’t worry, dear. Your secret is still safe.”

“Everything all right downstairs?”

“On this floor, dear. I’m just about to check on the shop.”

“No!” Ophelia cried. “Umm, what I mean is, let us do that for you.”

“Whyever is that nec—”

Walter suddenly appeared next to Ophelia, holding the flashlight. “Just trying to do our bit, Aunt Portia.”

She clapped her hands. “Well, aren’t you delightful! Please, go ahead then. I’m just as happy to return to bed.” She backed out of the stairwell and closed the door behind her.

Ophelia puffed out a sigh of relief.

Linus stood up as Tom climbed to his feet, laying his knife and wooden stick on the table under the window.

“Let’s go,” said Walter.

The shop was dimly illuminated by a battery-powered night-light near the section labeled BRITISH POETRY, 1800–1875.

They circled their flashlights around the room.

“Let’s see if we can find the door to Cato’s room,” said Ophelia.

They all tromped down into the dark basement, the briny smell of the floodwaters that had filled this room in July still saturated the air. Talk about a swimming pool! Everything had been removed and most everything discarded. It was just a bunch of Cato’s old junk anyway.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to find,” said Ophelia.

Oh, Ophelia!

They carefully ran their lights along the masonry (stonework), hunting for irregularities in the mortar connecting one stone to another. They even pressed on the stones, hoping to find a spring-loaded device that might expose a hidden door. (Perhaps that only happens in the movies where nothing is too much trouble.)

No luck.

“Cato must go in and out through the tunnels,” Walter said. “There’s nothing here.”

“Or he’s hidden the entrance beyond our ability to find it,” said Ophelia.

Linus didn’t doubt that for a second.

“Well, at least Joe can’t get in the house,” said Ophelia. “So things are looking up, right?”

Allow me a bit of foreshadowing here, dear reader. Maybe you’ll realize later on in the story what I was referring to. Or maybe not.

Imagine Tom’s feelings about now. Imagine finding out that the man who knows you testified against him in a court of law for a murder he committed out of greed and revenge—a man you thought was dead and would trouble you no longer—breathes once again and is sleeping in a secret basement room in the very house in which you are staying.

“Are you sure I can’t go back through that circle now?” Tom asked, picking up his whittling.

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