After the Storm: A Kate Burkholder Novel
Linda Castillo
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Once again, my deepest appreciation and heartfelt thanks to my publishing family at Minotaur Books. Charles Spicer. Sally Richardson. Andrew Martin. Jennifer Enderlin. Sarah Melnyk. Jeanne-Marie Hudson. Kerry Nordling. Hector DeJean. April Osborn. David Rotstein. And many thanks to my friend and agent, Nancy Yost. I sincerely love working with all of you!
Seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.
—The Holy Bible, King James version, New Testament, Matthew 7:7
PROLOGUE
August 29, 1985
The old barn had a history. Nine-year-old Sally Ferman had heard all of the stories, and every single one scared her. Her dad told her that the farm was originally owned by a young German immigrant by the name of Hans Schneider. He built a cabin and married a French woman, Rebecca. They had three sons, and over the years, Hans and his boys built the barn, raised cattle and sheep, and grew tobacco and corn.
Then one snowy night in 1763, a band of Delaware Indians raided the settlement. Hans was shot dead as he stood by the window with his muzzle-loader. His wife was dragged from the cabin and scalped. The three boys—all armed and prepared to fight to the death—were burned alive when the Delaware set the cabin ablaze. Rumor had it, if you came out here at night you could still hear Rebecca screaming as her scalp was being hacked from her skull.
Sally didn’t know if the story was true; she’d never heard anything out here except for the coo of the pigeons and the occasional squeal of the hogs. The one thing she did know was that the old barn, with its stone foundation and dark windows, was the creepiest place she’d ever seen.
From her house next door, it looked like a normal barn, with faded red paint and a rusty tin roof. But up close, the place was falling down and spooky. Grass and weeds grew shoulder-high at the crumbling foundation. Last summer she and her best friend, Lola, had sneaked over. They’d nearly talked themselves into going into the barn, when the Amish guy came out and they’d had to hide in the weeds. It had been scary but exciting, too. All he did was pee out the back door. Despite their momentary terror, they’d laughed all the way home. Sally had had a tough time explaining the cockleburs in her hair to her mom.
The memory made her sigh. Lola had been so much fun. She’d moved away last Christmas because of her dad’s stupid job. Sally missed her bunches. Lately, she’d been hanging with Fayrene Ehrlich, who’d just moved to Painters Mill from Columbus. Fayrene was pretty and popular (her mom let her wear lipstick and shave her legs), and she’d already scored a place on the softball team and the girls’ glee club, two things Sally hadn’t managed, and not for lack of trying. Everyone thought Fayrene was the best thing to hit Painters Mill since the new ball diamond out by the middle school. Sally thought Fayrene was a bigmouth and a know-it-all. And she knew for a fact Fayrene wasn’t that smart, because she’d copied Sally’s homework twice already.
But with Lola gone, Fayrene was the only friend she had. The truth of the matter was Sally needed to up her game. Prove her courage and her worthiness for fifth grade. Her mom had told her to stay away from the Amish people next door; they didn’t want English kids sneaking around in their barn. But that was exactly the thing Sally needed to do to show everyone she was a lot braver and twice as interesting as Fayrene Ehrlich. All she had to do was come back with a cool story for the lunchroom and maybe with a souvenir to prove she’d done it.
“Easy peasy,” she whispered as she made her way up the rise from the creek. In the back of her mind she wondered what Fayrene would do if Sally came back with Rebecca Schneider’s scalp. That would shut her up for good.
Making sure the coast was clear, she darted across the dirt path to the barn. It was built on a slope, with the front on the uphill side. The downhill side faced the pasture, and there were stalls tucked underneath and a bunch of hogpens outside. There was a big sliding door in front, where the Amish people backed up their wagon to unload hay. But Sally couldn’t go in that way because she’d be visible from the house. There was no side door, so she was going to have to go in through the stalls in the back.