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!”
