Free Secret Weapons by Zilpha Keatley Snyder Page B

door opened suddenly and there they were, face-to-face.
    “Er, hi,” Ari said.
    Aurora gasped, stepped back—and then shined the flashlight right on Ari’s face. “Oh.” Her voice was shaky. “It’s just you. You scared me.”
    “Sorry,” Ari said and then added, “Ouch. Hey, could I use that flashlight for a minute? Something’s stabbing my toe.”
    Aurora handed him the light, put down a paper bag she’d been carrying, and helped him pull out the thorn, before she asked, “What are you doing out here at this time of night?”
    Ari grinned. “No fair. That was my question.”
    Aurora sighed. “Well, you might as well know. I was supposed to water Mrs. A.’s plants today. And I forgot. I promised I’d do it today and then with all that stuff about the club I just didn’t remember. So I’m going to do it now.”
    That explained everything. For most people, watering the neighbors’ plants in the middle of the night might be a strange thing to do, but for a Pappas it was practically normal. “Okay,” Ari said. “Great. I’ll go with you. If you wait for me to put some shoes on.”
    Back in the house Ari grabbed a pair of shoes and his jacket and a few minutes later he and Aurora were on their way along the sidewalk toward the Andersons’. As they were passing the Grants’ house, Ari noticed that an almost full moon was just beginning to rise above the jagged rock called Castle Crag. But here, among the trees and houses, it was still very dark. Except for the small rectangles of light spilling out of a few windows, and the tiny circle of light shining from Aurora’s flashlight, the whole cul-de-sac seemed to dissolve into nothingness. Ari shivered—and tried to think of something else.
    “So,” he said, “you got the key?”
    “Uh-huh.” Aurora pulled out a key that had been hanging around her neck on a string.
    “Good.” He looked down at the bag Aurora was carrying. “And what else? What’s in the—” He stopped and sniffed. He couldn’t believe it. “You don’t have rotten fish in that bag, do you?”
    “Yes, I do,” Aurora said. “I’m going to put some on Mrs. A.’s African violets. They’ve been looking unhappy lately.”
    “But the smell. You’ll stink up their whole house.”
    Aurora giggled. “Only for a little while. The smell will be all gone by the time the A.s get home. And the African violets will be all full of blossoms. Mrs. A. will be very happy.” Ari shrugged and grinned. He wasn’t so sure.
    They were almost past Dragoland by then, and Ari was walking a few steps behind because of the smell, when he suddenly turned to look back toward Beaumont Avenue. Afterward he remembered exactly why. He’d heard the sound of a car’s motor and it crossed his mind that Nick might be getting home. And if it were Nick, he just might notice that two of his kids were missing.
    So Ari stopped to see if Nick had just turned in to Castle Avenue—but it wasn’t Nick’s car. In fact, it wasn’t a car at all. It was a big black van .
    Immediately Ari’s investigative reporter’s quick instincts took over. The first thing he did was to call to Aurora. “Look out,” he hissed. “Turn off your flashlight. Run!” And the next thing he did was to follow his own advice. Running as fast as he dared in the almost total darkness, he scurried down the Dragoland driveway and into the underbrush that surrounded the Pit. It wasn’t until he was crouching in the midst of a thick bush that he checked to see if Aurora had followed him. She hadn’t. Aurora was nowhere in sight.
    “Aurora,” Ari called softly. And then a little louder, “Aurora.” No answer. Getting to his feet, Ari pushed his way back through the underbrush in time to see the gleam of headlights and the dark bulk of a large, slow-moving van. As he watched, the van slowed even more, switched its lights to dim, turned into the Andersons’ driveway, and disappeared.
    Ari crept forward. Down the Dragoland driveway