Free Moon Over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool Page B

back from town a couple times a week. Did you two have a nice visit?”
    “If you mean did she tell my fortune, no, she did not. She just carried on a bit, jingling and jangling, telling me an old story about a couple boys who lived here a long time ago.” I kind of liked having the letters and mementos mostly to myself, so I decided to keep those a secret. “But I broke her pot and now I have to go back to work it off.”
    Shady had perked up a bit. “She told you about a couple of boys?”
    “Yeah, and some trouble they got into with the Klan with some poison ivy and such. Ned and Jinx. Did you know them?”
    Shady occupied himself by scrubbing down the bar top. “I did.”
    That gnawing feeling came back to me and I worked up my nerve. “Shady?”
    “Yes, Abilene.”
    “Do you think Gideon knew those two boys? Did he have many friends when he was here? Did he ever go fishingwith anyone or swimming in the creek?” My questions and my need to know came out in a rush.
    “Well, now.” Shady rubbed the back of his neck. “Let me see. I’m sure your daddy did most things boys do. Swim, fish, cause havoc.” He worked at a stubborn spot on the counter but I caught him catching a glimpse of me. “Didn’t he tell you much about when he was here?”
    “Yes, he told me lots of things. He said there was a man who drove a cart around town and brought fresh milk to people’s doorsteps. And ladies who’d walk down the street in white gloves and fancy hats with big feathers sticking way up. But it’s like he was telling things you’d notice from the tree house. Storefronts and activity, people going here and there, but only what you could see from a distance. Nothing up close. Why, I only heard about you a few weeks ago. Did he write to you at all?”
    Shady paused and his shoulders looked heavy. “A postcard now and then. Sometimes, when folks move on, it’s hard to look back. It’s not their fault. We knew he wandered a bit after he left here, but then we got word that he had a little girl, and we knew he’d take good care of you.”
    I did warm a little at that but I wasn’t ready to be done grumbling. I stuck my chin on my fists. “Well, Gideon’s telling of Manifest was nothing like Miss Sadie’s. Her story was full of names and faces and who did what where. I learned more about Manifest in one sitting with her than from all of Gideon’s stories put together,” I grumped. But I still hadn’t learned anything about Gideon.
    Shady looked up, and with the sun gleaming in through the stained glass, he looked like he was having a revelation.
    “Yes, that Miss Sadie sure can weave a story. I bet she could fill in some of the missing pieces.”
    I don’t know if Shady would’ve said more, but he looked relieved to hear a jingle at the door.
    Lettie and Ruthanne poked their heads in. “Hey, Abilene?” Then, remembering their manners, they added, “Good morning, Shady.”
    “Good morning,” he answered. “Would you girls care for a glass of buttermilk?”
    “Yes, please,” Lettie and Ruthanne answered together.
    Shady went into the back room and Lettie whispered, “First we have to sell some eggs in town. Then we can work on the Rattler mystery. We’ve made a list of suspects. Mr. Cooper, the barber. Mr. Koski at the diner. Hattie Mae.”
    “Hattie Mae?” I whispered back.
The nice newspaper lady?
“Surely you don’t think she’s the Rattler?”
    “Well, not really, but she’s got a sweet tooth and she’ll probably give us a licorice whip or some jelly beans if we stop by. But we’ll start with Mr. DeVore, the postmaster.”
    Mention of Hattie Mae made me think of something. “Wait a minute. I need to run back upstairs.” I went up and thumbed through the newspapers I’d selected from Hattie Mae’s office. I found her column in both and gave each a quick look-see. It was the one from October 11 that rang a bell. I carefully tore it out and made a point to take another look through