Rocky Corners, Missouri A Fictional Smalltown in the Ozarks

MR DECKER’S SECRET

            “Nick, I don’t want to walk past old Mr. Decker’s house! It’s spooky! Let’s go back,” Amy Johnson pleaded with her older brother. On the verge of tears, guilt over leaving the house without permission left a lump in her stomach.

            “Don’t be a ‘fraidy cat! The pine trees are up ahead.” Nick deflated his sister’s request.   

            Amy made a sour face. “I don’t want to go on.” Her eyes were round like moons as she looked about her, the thick grove of trees blocking the sunlight. The overcast sky added to the eeriness of where they stood. Folks called it Shadow Lane.

            Nick gave his sister a hard look. “Stop wasting time! We’ve got to get back before Granny misses us!”

            Amy gulped, rolling her eyes. Taking a breath, she said, “We should’ve gone over on Granny’s half acre.”

            “The pinecones I want are over here. Mom wants them. Decker’s not going to hurt you. He’s not home most of the time.”

            Leftover dark clouds hung in the sky like billowing black cotton balls. The wind blew enough to ruffle their hair, sending leaves fluttering haphazardly to the ground. The morning rain left puddles dotting the ground. Rain was still a threat on this November morning.

Earlier, the children left their grandmother’s house to gather pinecones, colored leaves, vines, and other natural vegetation for their mother’s crafts. She used the raw materials to create beautiful items to sell at the area craft shows.

The pair loved to “walk around the block” with their grandmother. While they walked, she told stories about the bygone days while they looked for new discoveries, greeted their neighbors, and enjoyed the outdoors and nature.  

Shadow Lane was nothing more than an old wagon path, a dirt lane, leftover from earlier days. Grandmother told the story that for some reason it was never graveled, never developed, like all the other streets in Rocky Corners. It was a deserted place, used only by the occupants of the two houses built there.            

            Elias Decker was a short chubby, little man who lived in a run-down house on Shadow Lane. He always wore a brown shabby suit and wore black scuffed shoes. Untidy dark hair topped his head. When he grinned, he was missing some of his teeth.

            The children thought Decker was a bum and were frightened of him. They wondered why he walked around town, never driving a vehicle. They were sure he had a secret. His mysterious appearance led the children to invent wild stories about the old man to their friends.

            Decker kept to himself. Occasionally he was seen walking to town. Sometimes a big black car would stop in front of his house, pick him up, and drive away.  

            Decker’s house was small. Paint curled on the clapboard siding. Dirty lace curtains framed the windows. The front screen door sagged on its hinges. The yard was overgrown with weeds and brush. Grass grew between the bricks of the front walk.

            Thunder rumbled its warning in the distance. The sky darkened.

            The children hurried to the grove of pine trees. It was close to Decker’s house. There were fat pinecones, laying in heaps, and littering the ground.

            The wind picked up and whistled through the trees, erupting a piney scent. Amy opened the bag and shoved the cones inside.

            “I told you these were huge!” Nick laughed, as he gathered his share.

            Minutes later, Amy looked around and saw Nick was gone. “Nick?” She was alone in the pine grove.            

            She could not see the sky but knew the storm was approaching fast. Where was he? Suddenly, a bird flew out of a tree and moving skyward. Drawing in a breath, an icy shiver ran up her arms. Just as she was about to cry out, she heard him.  

            “Amy!”

            She saw him a distance away climbing a tree. “I found some vines for Mom. Look!”

            Amy left the sack and crossed over a small mound of dirt, to find Nick in a tall maple tree, sitting on a big limb. Thick, rough vines wrapped around the tree trunk and snaked up onto the branches.

            “Grapevines,” Nick announced. “Just what Mom needs.”

            He cut a vine with his Scout knife. “As I throw them down, gather them up.”  

            “There’s a big one just a little way from you.” She pointed.

            Nick inched over the tree limb. “I don’t know if I can reach it.”

            Fat raindrops fell from the sky. The wind began to blow harder, and a light shower began.

            “Be careful, the limb is bending!” Amy shouted.

            Nick reached out, grabbed the grapevines. “Got ‘em!” He cut through the tough vines. But the branch could not bear Nick’s weight and crashed to the ground. He lay on his side, the vines tangled in his hands. His knife lay dangerously near his right leg.

            Amy screamed. “Nicky, are you hurt?” She fell to her knees beside him.

            “My arm hurts.” he whispered. He closed his eyes.

            Hot tears burned and slipped down her cheeks. They needed help, but she didn’t want to leave him alone. “Can you get up? I can help you…”

            His eyes opened and he swallowed. “No, my head hurts.”

            “I don’t think you should move,” Amy told him, remembering the first aid classes she learned at school.

            She swiped at the tears, brushing them across her already wet face. She had to be brave. Crying would not solve their problem.

            The rain grew heavier. She tried to shield her brother’s face as best she could. She had to go for help. She gulped and in the next moment, she ran toward Shadow Lane.  

            When she reached the rise, she stopped. A man wearing a dark brown suit stood before her. He held her bag of pinecones. Drawing a quick breath, she shouted, “Mr. Decker!”

            “Amy Johnson! What in the world are you doing out here?” But the wind and rain muffled his words. He smiled at her; she saw the gaps where his teeth were missing. Rain dripped off his black felt hat.

            Amy shivered. Cold and fear slid down her back and pooled at her feet. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. Would Mr. Decker help them? Or kidnap them? She envisioned a horrible scene.

            “My brother fell from a tree, and he thinks his arm is broken!”

            “Where is he?” A frown lined Decker’s dark face.  

            Lighting lit the sky and thunder boomed. The storm was not letting up any time soon.

            Amy pointed to the place where Nick lay. “Over there by the fence.”

            Decker dropped the bag, brushing past her. He motioned for her to follow, but she ran around him toward her brother.  

            Kneeling, Mr. Decker spoke kindly to Nick. When Nick responded, he picked him up. “Follow me, we need to get into the house quickly.”

            Amy’s mouth dropped open and her brown eyes bugged out with surprise. “Your house?” She started to protest, but the man was moving fast.

            She wanted to refuse. To run for Granny’s house. But she had to follow or be left behind.  

            Reaching Decker’s house, they waded through knee-high weeds and grass to get to the front door. Rain rushed over the eaves, splashing to the overgrown flower beds below. Decker looked at Amy. “Reach into my coat pocket and get the key to unlock the door.”

            She did as he told her. Decker thanked her, then disappeared into the darkness of the living room.

            She stood in the rain, thinking about her options. Their parents had warned them not to go into stranger’s homes. She wanted to run for help, but she heard Decker calling her name. She stood in the doorway peering inside. A soft glow from a lamp spilled out into the dark room.

            Suddenly Decker stood at the door. “Amy, come and call your grandmother.”

            She looked at him. He had taken off his hat and his thinning dark hair was plastered to his head. It reminded her of Grandpa Johnson. It softened her heart a bit. Mr. Decker smiled at her.

            He looked kind. Should she run for help or enter this strange man’s house? A man who harbored a secret.

            Another crack of lightning split the sky and the wind thrashed about the house.

            Mr. Decker’s smile broadened; his voice grew soft. “I think I know what you’re thinking. You don’t know if you can trust me.” He nodded. “You’re a wise girl to take precautions. But you can trust me. I’ve known your Grandma Johnson for years. Do you want me to call her for you?” He brought out a cell phone from his pants pocket.

            She heard Nick calling her name, so she crossed into the living room. The house smelled funny, like it was old. She looked around, it was clean. The furniture was old, but functional. Fat throw pillows were of the same material as Grandma’s bedspread.

            Nick watched her make the call. When she hung up, she sat beside her brother. “How are you feeling?”

            “My arm’s sore.” His voice was meek, not loud as usual. “And my head hurts.”

            Mr. Decker appeared carrying a tray with three mugs and ice cubes in a baggie. Towels hung over his arm. Placing the tray on a nearby table, he offered the children a mug. Steam and the smell of cocoa curled from within. He handed them a towel, then sat in an armchair. The seat was coming apart and one of the chair arms wiggled with his weight.

            “Did you reach someone?” He wiped his face with a towel, then sipped from his mug.

            “Yes, Granny’s coming.” Amy answered. She eyed the dark liquid in the cups.

            “I thought hot cocoa might help warm you up while you wait.”

            “Thank you, Mr. Decker.” Nick sipped from the cup. “It tastes good.”

            Amy looked again at the cup she was holding. Steam curled a bit from the hot liquid. The smell made her want to take a drink. But still she hesitated. She watched Nick drink his.

            Nick knew she was frightened. He caught her gaze, then nodded permission.

            “I don’t have an ice pack, but this baggie should do the trick.” Decker handed it to Nick. “Place it on your arm, it’ll help with the swelling. My brother was a doctor. I learned a lot of medical things from him.” He grinned.

            Amy sipped from her mug, then looked around the room. The rushing storm whipped at the house; the wind tore at the windows. The dimness of the room made her think of all the scary stories everyone told about old Mr. Decker.   

            Peeling wallpaper sagged in places on the living room walls. The dingy faded lace curtains needed washed like Granny did from time to time. Her eyes brightened when she spied the tall, magnificent grandfather clock standing in the corner of the room. It had long ago stopped working and would never announce the time of day or night again. But it was grand!

            A wood-framed picture of a man and a woman set on the table next to the clock. She thought the lady beside him was quite beautiful with long golden curls bunched on her shoulders. The lady wore a jeweled comb in her curls and a red smile covered her lips.

            “That’s a picture of my wife and me. Isn’t she lovely?”
            “Yes and I love her hair comb,” Amy answered.

            “I didn’t know you were married,” Nick said. He was surprised because Granny had never talked much about Mr. Decker except that he wouldn’t hurt a flea.

            “Yes, I am.” The man’s voice broke, and he sniffed. Placing the cup to his lips, he took a deep drink. “Her name is Katherine.”

            “Is she home?” Nick asked.  

            “No,” Decker said, shaking his head, his voice just above a whisper. “She doesn’t live here anymore.”

            “Oh, you’re divorced.”

            Mr. Decker frowned. “No, we’re not divorced. A long time ago Katharine and I were travelling to Massachusetts. She’s from Boston. We were going to spend the holidays with her parents. But we didn’t make it.”

            The children gasped, looking at one another. Amy’s dark eyes widened as she asked what happened.

            “We had an auto accident. Katharine almost died. She spent months in the hospital. My brother, the doctor, helped with her case. But when she got well enough to leave the hospital, we knew she couldn’t come back home.”

            Nick and Amy listened to the story.  

            “She was severely burned, and broken bones handicapped her. A wheelchair was her mode of transportation. The hospital bill took all our savings. I was not able to give her the special care she needed, because I was hurt, too. It took me a year to recover and by then Katharine lived at the Fairview Christian Home. She has the nurses’ attention day and night.”

            His sorrowful words fell upon the two children. Nick’s face grew warm. He remembered how he and his friends gossiped about Decker and thought he was a lazy bum.

            Nick looked at his sister. Tears wet her eyes.

            “I visit her as much as I can. My sister comes to pick me up when I do,” Decker went on. “That’s why this place is so worn down. I don’t have time or the money to spend on it. Katharine is much more important. Would you like to see another photo of her?”

            Both children answered at the same time. “Yes!”

            He pulled a gold watch from his shirt pocket. Flipping it open, he handed it first to Amy. She gazed at the small round photo encased in the worn watch. She swallowed, saying nothing, then handed it to Nick.

            Nick drew a quick breath when he saw Mrs. Decker. Her thin face was scarred with white and pink flesh. Her wispy white hair hung over her shoulder in a braid. Sadness covered her face. Her eyes looked normal, but her nose was deformed as was her lips. They pulled high on one side. She could not smile.

            “During her hospital stay I prayed day and night that I might accept what all happened to her and not be angry. I felt if God allowed her to live, then there was a reason. Even though people are repulsed by her, I cherish her even more.”

            “Are you a Christian?” The words tumbled from Amy. She thought if he prayed to God, then perhaps he was.

            “Amy!” Nick exclaimed. “Shush!”

            Decker nodded. “We used to attend church at Peach Hill. Katharine played the piano, and it sounded like heaven.”

            He went one. “I know people think I’m strange. I’ve let this place go. I look like a bum. But my railroad pension only goes so far. I sold my automobile to help pay hospital bills. I guess you could call me a hermit.” A choked sound left his lips

            Guilt crawled over Amy. Now she and Nick knew the truth about the old man. She understood the “secret” surrounding this house. The black car that came often for him was his sister. He went to visit his sick wife in a town far away. His wife was more important than things.

            A warm glow spread through her, and a plan started to form. She looked at Mr. Decker. Instead of a ragged old bum who frightened the children in the neighborhood, she saw a poor man who proudly sacrificed everything to care for his wife.

            They heard a car and saw Granny pulling into the drive. The wind and rain had stopped, and the darker clouds cleared away, leaving a foggy sky behind.

            Decker moved to the door.

            “Mr. Decker, I’d like to invite you to our church,” Amy said. “It’s the one on Partridge Street.”

            “Yes, do come to church with us!” Nick sat up, put the bag of ice on the table. “I mow lawns. I’ll bring my lawn mower over and get the yard cleaned up for you, if you don’t mind.”

            Decker smiled. “Yes, I’ll pay you next month when my check arrives.”

            A knock sounded on the door. Decker opened it. “Hello, Olive! The children are safe inside.”

            “Granny!” Amy cried, running to the old woman.   

            “Hello, Elias!” She looked at the children. “What has happened?”

            Nick ducked his head. “I fell out of a tree.”

            “But we were getting all kinds of natural things for Mom to use for her crafts!” Amy cried out. “Please don’t be mad at us!”

            She remembered Mr. Decker. The man who had won her heart on this blustery stormy day. “And Mr. Decker saved us! And he gave us hot cocoa to warm us up!”

            Olive Johnson smiled. “Well then, I suppose we should leave him to the rest of his day and get you to the doctor. Thank you, Elias!”

            Nick stood up. “Mr. Decker, thanks for helping us and for telling us the story of your life. I’ll come and mow before it gets too cold.”

            Amy clapped her hands. “And I’ll come help you pick up the sticks in the yard! And remember you said you’d come to church!”

            Olive Johnson’s eyes sparked. “How nice! Yes, anytime you want to ride, someone will come for you.”

            “Thanks, Olive. Now, children, listen to me,” Decker said, putting his finger in the air. “When you go outside, be aware of what is happening around you. Not every day is safe, nor places you might want to go, either.”

            “Thanks, Mr. Decker!” Nick said. He moved to the old man’s side, giving him a hug.       

            Amy did the same thing. “Mr. Decker you’re my hero!”

            “I’ll second that!” Nick added, smiling.

                                                                 ###

            Later that evening, Nick and Amy’s mother called Decker. “Mr. Decker, this is Emma Johnson. The men from church want to help work on your house. I work at the Senior Center, and we want to add you to our list of those getting food baskets and meals served to your door. Would you be interested? We do not want to interfere in your business, we want to help.”

            Decker accepted the help and the conversation ended.  

            Amy and Nick listened to the exchange.  

            “Nick, Mr. Decker is not scary anymore. I feel bad because we called him names. We didn’t even know him. I learned a lesson!”

            “Me too. And you know what? I’m glad I fell out of the tree.” Nick looked at his arm wrapped in a sling. “Because now we know who Mr. Decker really is.”

            Amy’s blue eyes grew round. “Mr. Decker’s secret isn’t a secret anymore!”