Dead Silence by Brenda Novak Page A

Joe.”
    Teddy recognized that name. “Vincelli?”
    â€œThat’s him. You know him?”
    â€œYeah, he’s funny.”
    â€œMaybe some people think so. But I’m not too impressed.”
    Not everyone liked Joe. Teddy had once heard a friend of his grandmother’s say she felt sorry for Joe’s parents, that their son was a “no account” boy. He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly. But he knew it wasn’t good. And he knew there were some things he wasn’t supposed to repeat, so he didn’t mention it. Instead, he pointed toward the signs. “You’re voting for Mrs. Nibley?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œHow come?” he asked, squinting up at her.
    â€œI’m not a big fan of Kennedy Archer.”
    â€œOh.” She didn’t like his father, either? He wasn’t sure what to make of that.
    â€œWhat about you?” she asked. “If you were old enough to vote, who would you choose?”
    â€œNot Vicki Nibley,” he admitted.
    â€œSo you’re an Archer man?”
    He nodded.
    â€œDo you know him?”
    He nodded again. He thought he should probably tell her that Kennedy was his dad, but he was afraidshe’d hate him, too, if he did. “He’s nice,” he said, hoping to win her over.
    â€œIf you say so.” She was still smiling, but something in her voice told Teddy he hadn’t convinced her. “Are you ready for your cookies?”
    They’d finally arrived at the cookies. He grinned. “Yeah.”
    â€œGreat. I baked a big batch for you last night. Should I get the phone so we can call your mother? Let’s ask if you can come in and have a few cookies with a glass of milk.”
    Teddy tilted his head to look past her and into the house. He could smell the yummy aroma he remembered so clearly from his mother’s kitchen; he wanted to go in and pretend his house would smell like that again someday.
    But his father had told him he couldn’t go in her house. Staring at the porch floor, he scuffed one sneaker against the other. “Um…my mom’s not home.”
    â€œWho’s watching you, then?”
    â€œMy grandmother,” he said. “She already knows I’m here.”
    â€œYou’re sure.”
    He nodded, but she still seemed hesitant.
    â€œIn that case, why don’t we spread a blanket under the trees and eat out on the back lawn?”
    Even if she didn’t like his father, she seemed really nice. And eating on the back lawn was probably okay. It was still outside, wasn’t it? “That’d be good,” he said in relief. “And when we’re done, maybe I could work for you again today. If you need me.”
    The smile that beamed down on him felt like sunshine.
    â€œI was about to unlock the toolshed and visit the root cellar, which is always an adventure.”
    â€œWhy is it an adventure?” he asked.
    â€œHave you ever been there before?”
    â€œOnce, with Evonne. I helped her bring up some beets.”
    â€œDon’t you think it’s spooky, with all those spider-webs?”
    â€œI’m not afraid of spiders.” He stood taller so she’d believe him, even though the root cellar was a little scary. “But why do you want to go into the cellar?”
    â€œTo count what’s left of the bottled peaches and tomatoes. I’m going to reopen Evonne’s Homestyle Fixin’s.”
    â€œHer stand?” Excitement buzzed through him like a horde of bees. When he’d started spending his days at his grandmother’s last summer, Evonne had let him come over a lot. Somehow being at her place made him feel happy inside. “I can count really good.”
    â€œI’ll bet you can,” she said with a laugh. “In any case, I’m glad to have your company.” She held the door a little wider. “Would you like to help me carry everything outside? After our snack,