Riding the Flume Read Online Free PDF Page A

think,” she said. “It’s about Carrie.”
    Charlie’s face turned sober. “Carrie?” He gave her an uneasy glance. “She’s haunting me.” Francie didn’t know she’d said it out loud until she saw Charlie’s startled face.
    â€œWhat?” She saw his Adam’s apple go up and down as he swallowed.
    â€œNever mind. I’m just being silly.” She took Charlie’s arm again and they began to walk back in the direction of the hotel. “I have to ask you a question. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
    â€œFire away,” Charlie said, his eyes sparkling again. “I won’t tell.” He pushed on his hat brim so his hat perched on the back of his head.
    Quickly she told him about the message in the old sequoia stump. “Was it for you? Did you and Carrie leave messages in that old tree hole?”
    Charlie’s eyes had a faraway look. “I’d forgotten about that,” he said. “Carrie called it the post office. She liked it that we could say we were going to the post office and nobody would know what we meant. We were each supposed to check there every day, just the way people check their post office boxes.” He looked down at Francie, and a slow smile touched his lips. “I used to get mad at her because she’d write messages about things she could just as well have told me in person. But that was your sister all over. Anything to make life more mysterious. What did it say again?”
    Francie shook her head. “I only got a quick look before Mama came. Something about meeting at Turkey Fork. And then it said, ‘The only safety is in secrecy.’ That part I do remember. You mean you never got it?”
    Charlie shook his head. “After the landslide . . .” He looked almost angry. “Well, what would have been the point? It busted me up enough as it was.”
    Francie nodded. “That means I was the first one to see it.” They were almost to the hotel. She could see lights in the lobby, and Mama moving about in the kitchen acrossthe street. She tugged on Charlie’s arm until he stopped walking. “What do you think it means?”
    â€œThe message?” Charlie shrugged. “Let me have a look at it.”
    Francie drew a line in the dust with the toe of her shoe. “It’s still in the tree, and I’m not allowed to go into the basin.”
    â€œYou’re not allowed?” Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets. “Why not?”
    â€œFather thinks it’s dangerous.” She sighed. She might as well tell him everything. “And it’s a punishment for talking back.”
    Charlie chuckled. “Well, that’s something you and Carrie share. Her mouth was always getting her in trouble.” He frowned. “But I don’t remember your father keeping her from the woods. He couldn’t . . . she would have gone anyway.”
    Francie sucked in her breath. “Well, I’m not Carrie,” she said. Carrie hadn’t had to look at her parents’ sad faces or feel the guilt whenever she disobeyed them. It happened often enough, anyway. She saw a flicker of something flash in Charlie’s eyes and as quickly disappear. He was disappointed in her, she thought, fighting against that lump that always formed in her throat when people compared her to her sister.
    But Charlie only nodded. “It’s different now,” he said. The logging whistle screamed, shattering the peace of thequiet street and calling the men to work. He touched her shoulder with one finger. “I’ll get the message. And I’ll come see you on Sunday. After all, if she’s haunting you, there must be a reason.” He grinned at her. “Carrie always had a reason.” He settled his hat down low on his forehead and ran off toward the lumberyard.
    Francie stared after him. He’d been joking, she knew