she pleaded with Genie not to leave, and Genie began to see that Carrie needed her. And Carrie told her that she needed to think about not hurting Grandfather, and Genie could see her point.
Being a Fletcher wasn’t so bad, after all. People took care of you. If she wanted to go to a good college, and showed that she meant it by studying hard, the Fletchers would help her get into that college. When she decided what she wanted to be when she grew up, Fletchers would help her then, too. When she had children, and her cousins had children, they would all help those children to be happy and healthy and successful. Fletchers helped one another.
Most people outside the family admired the Fletchers, but some people were jealous, of course. They would say that love, learning, and money made a difference. In her lessons at home, Mom and Dad made sure that Genie already knew these facts by heart: If you were wealthy, no matter how much you gave to charities or your community, no matter how much good you did, there would always be a few people who thought you owed them what you had earned. Or they would believe you would not miss what they stole from you. A very few wanted to hurt Fletcher children just because they were Fletchers. That was why you could not talk to strangers. That was why the family had to have security people.
Genie wondered if the person who killed Cousin Sheila had done it because she was a Fletcher. When she asked Mom about it, she got a lecture about not asking prying questions. But then she asked Dad about it, and he said, “Probably.” He was upset, but he hugged her and told her not to be afraid, that he would always keep her safe.
Being kept safe was one of the reasons you were home-schooled or schooled at the academy and could not go to a public school. Public school was a place where you didn’t learn as much, anyway-something Genie was sure was true from the rare occasions when she encountered other children her age and tried to converse with them. Most ended up calling her names that meant she was smarter than they were, and although she could never understand why that should be considered an insult to her, it definitely felt like one. It was so much easier to be around other Fletcher children. They had better manners, too.
Not all of the Fletcher children were supersmart, of course, but they all got the best education possible, and the family always tried to help its children discover what they were good at and make the most of their talents. From what Grandfather had said that morning, Genie got the impression that Sheila wasn’t one of the supersmart ones.
Grandfather told them that he didn’t expect them to be sad about Sheila if they did not know her, but he hoped they would say a little prayer for her before they went to bed tonight. He believed she was in heaven because she had spent the last two years of her life learning how to find lost children with special dogs, which was a good use of her talents.
After that, the children were told they could have the day off from classes and that they should just spend time with their brothers, sisters, and cousins, and enjoy being a family.
Mom stopped them before they left the room, probably to ask them where they would be, but Uncle Giles saw her do this and quickly came up to her. “Victoria, I believe Roy is looking for you.” She looked as if she might say she would be there in a few minutes, but he shepherded the girls along with him, saying over his shoulder, “Go to your husband. We will keep an eye on the girls. I promise. Your children are not in any danger here.”
When they were outside, Carrie said, “Thank you, Uncle Giles.”
“For what? Rescuing you from your mother?” he asked, then laughed when both girls blushed. “It was my pleasure, Carrie. Now, you and Genie enjoy your day.”
When he had walked back into the house, Carrie said, “Mom’s going to be mad.”
“Yes,” Genie said. “So we might as well have fun, because she’s going to be mad, anyway.” Genie thought Carrie worried too much about Mom getting mad. Then again, Genie got into trouble more often than her older sister.
CARRIE and Genie had played with their cousins for a time, then wandered off together toward the children’s garden.
They said they wanted to see how their little vegetable patches were doing. No one questioned this-the girls did this every time they came here. One of the cousins mentioned that it would be muddy, then smiled and said, “But that will make it easier to pull weeds!”
Genie wondered why she couldn’t be like that, what Dad called “good natured.” But there was something restless in her, and she decided she just never would be someone other girls called “sweet,” not even as sweet as Carrie.
It was muddy, but there were boards and stepping-stones to help them navigate their way. The rain had made the garden very green this year, Genie thought. For a time they pulled weeds, although not many had been allowed to grow up among the carrots and beans and tomatoes. Then they went into the greenhouse, where they could deliver the weeds for composting and wash the worst of the mud off their hands.
Edith, one of their favorite aunts, was there. She greeted the girls cheerily, always pleased to see two of her protegees. Edith had found her talent here. She loved the garden, and loved to teach children about plants and their care, so she happily set them up with jars and pots and young plants that needed to be moved into bigger containers. April was a busy time for Edith, and before long, she wandered away from them to work on projects of her own.
Genie gathered the jars to her side of the table they worked at.
“I wonder why you do that,” Carrie said.
“What?”
“Pick the jars. You leave me all the pots.”
Genie blushed.
“I don’t mind,” Carrie said quickly. “I just wondered.”
Genie checked to see that Edith was not nearby, then said in a low voice, “I like the name.”
“Jar?”
Genie shook her head. “Mason. That name has…some connection to me.”
Carrie looked puzzled. She signed, Freemasons? Stonecutters?
After a moment, Genie signed, I knew someone named Mason.
Last name?
She shook her head. No, first name.
From the past? Carrie signed back. Before? No need to explain before what.
Yes. A man. He was nice to me. He made me laugh. But she didn’t feel very happy thinking about him now. It made her feel unsettled.
After a brief hesitation, Carrie signed, Your father?
“I don’t know,” Genie said softly, frowning, as she filled a jar with soil. “That doesn’t seem right.” She signed, Brother or cousin, maybe.
Carrie made a motion toward the plants they were supposed to be transplanting. Genie made herself get back to work for a minute or two with her pots. If Edith came back and didn’t see much accomplished…But Edith would be kind, and merely think they’d been chatting with each other instead of working, and that would be okay with her. Edith was one of the oldest of the Fletcher children, and she had not been able to have kids of her own. She was sometimes a little rebellious, and muttered as she worked. More than once, sitting next to her at a family gathering, Genie had heard her say something about how plants grew best if they weren’t crowded, in moments when Genie knew she wasn’t talking about plants at all. It occurred to Genie that the relative privacy they enjoyed in the greenhouse was not accidental.
Did Edith like being alone? That was something else to think about.
Gradually, with whispers and signs exchanged between gardening work, Carrie told Genie about the conversation she had overheard between Mom and Dad this morning. Genie was as amazed as Carrie about their mom’s career in journalism.
“I have to find a way to get a copy of the newspaper article about missing kids,” Carrie said.
“That will be easy,” Genie said. “Leave it to me.”
“How?”
“Tomorrow is trash day, remember? It’s my turn to take the trash and recycling out to the curb.”
Carrie frowned. We don’t get the newspaper. How can that help?
