Songbird Season Page 4

  “I know, you’re right.” Melinda rubbed her face and yawned.

  “Of course,” he said ominously, “it wasn’t always easy. They seemed to find trouble around every corner from the very first night.”

  Melinda wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this story, but Auggie loved nothing more than a good tale.

  “So they moved in, and he and his wife were both exhausted. They got their bedroom set up that night, decided the rest could wait. Not long after they turned out the lights, Shawn says he thought he heard some weird noises coming from the attic, but he was so tired that he thought maybe it was all in his head. Either way, they were too worn out to investigate.”

  “Don’t tell us, the place was haunted.” Jerry rolled his eyes. “The long-suffering spirit of some old farmer, I bet. Back when I was teaching, there was always some such rumor circulating at the high school, what someone had seen or heard out at some abandoned place.”

  Auggie’s only answer was a dramatic pause. Then he leaned in, as if telling tales around a campfire.

  “So they keep hearing these thumping noises, up above their heads, but they finally fall asleep. Then Shawn wakes up in the middle of the night, and hears this God-awful scratching on the inside of the closet. Justine’s screaming, they’re both out of bed in a flash. That door was rattling, I tell you. Shawn said a million dollars wouldn’t have been enough for him to open it. They shoved the nightstands against that door and ran downstairs. Camped out in the living room the rest of the night.”

  Melinda shivered. Her home made its share of old-house noises from time to time, but even though she lived alone, she’d never really felt terrified. Except that one time …

  “Well, are you going to keep us in suspense?” This from Doc.

  “Turns out a nice little raccoon family had been living in there since the last human residents moved out. There was a hole in the eaves, right there by a large oak tree, where they went back and forth. And then, a hole in the attic floor came down into that closet. The door had been open when Shawn and Justine moved in, but he’d latched it shut, not knowing he’d just locked their furry roommates out of the rest of their house. What a mess! They found poop piles everywhere for weeks. And it cost a fortune to get those holes patched, too.”

  His story complete, Auggie stopped for a slurp of coffee.

  “Way to go.” Jerry finally broke the awkward silence. “It took us months to convince Melinda to stay on here, to not go back to the Twin Cities. Then when she started to think about buying Horace out, we said, ‘you’ll do great,’ and ‘don’t you worry, it’ll all work out’ and stuff like that. Auggie, what’s your point?”

  “I’m just saying, she could have it much worse.” He pointed at Melinda. “All the animals living in your house are potty-trained. Am I right?” She nodded.

  “Well, I still don’t think you’re being much help,” Jerry sputtered. “What are you trying to do, get her to move to town or something? I just …”

  “OK, enough.” George held up a hand and Auggie and Jerry fell silent. “Melinda, forget all about that. You’ve got a nice place there. And my neighbor’s son is an excellent handyman. He’s honest, and his prices are fair. I can give you his number, if you need it. And it sounds like you might.”

  ✽✽✽

  The store was so busy that morning, Melinda had very little time to think about the farm. It was an unusually warm day for late March, and the bright sunshine had everyone running errands and planning projects around their homes.

  Prosper Hardware carried “a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing,” as Miriam liked to say, from eggs and milk and a small selection of groceries to clothing, seasonal household items and building materials. With the nearest retail shops more than ten miles away in Swanton, and larger towns three times that far, local residents depended on Prosper Hardware for their day-to-day necessities.

  Melinda’s Shrader great-great-grandparents had opened the store in 1894. When her mom, Diane, decided to become a teacher, it became clear Miriam and Frank would be the ones to continue that legacy. Miriam had been helping at the store since she was a girl, and Frank had worked at a grocery store in Swanton before he and Miriam married. They lived in a Victorian over on Cherry Street and, with no children of their own, Prosper Hardware was the driving force in their lives.

  Miriam was now in her early sixties, but her face still lit up every time she sailed through the entrance.

  “What a beautiful day!” She pushed her sunglasses over her short gray curls and carefully wiped her shoes on the mat inside the door. Miriam turned her kind brown eyes toward her niece.

  “I talked to your mom last night, so I’ve heard all about the inspection. Chin up, dear, it’ll be just fine. Our house needed lots of repairs when we bought it, too. It’s just part of the fun. Here, I’ll watch the counter so you can get started on that window display. I think it’s time for a change up there.”

  Prosper Hardware’s two plate-glass windows were impressively wide and tall, but there wasn’t much room behind them to set out merchandise. That didn’t stop Melinda from creating seasonal displays in one of the windows, her creativity kicking into high gear as she plotted how to showcase the store’s must-have items.

  Her spirits lifted as she dismantled the current display, gathering up the thick gloves, scarves and knit hats that had been draped over the open drawers of a small dresser she found at a consignment store. It had been cheap, had a nice walnut finish, and was the perfect rack for smaller items. Next came the dusty snow shovels, and the one space heater left from the special order Miriam brought in just before Christmas. She rolled up the length of quilt batting that had stood in for snow, and untacked the glitter-dusted plastic snowflakes she’d found at a craft store.

  As she wiped away winter’s residue, the expansive window beginning to sparkle again in the bright sunshine, Melinda took a moment to admire Main Street’s quaint charm. The thoroughfare officially started just east of the co-op, where the county highway turned on a quirky diagonal to pass through the heart of the tiny community. Only the middle two blocks held commercial properties, as the rest were filled with homes and two of the town’s three churches.

  Many of Main Street’s buildings were surprisingly ornate in design, with tall windows and charming cornices. Prosper Hardware was two stories of red brick, with a dark-green awning sheltering its storefront and a reproduction metal sign posted between its second-story windows. City Hall, just across the street, was even more grand. Built of golden brick, it was one of the oldest buildings in the community, having been constructed in the late 1880s before the town was even incorporated. It shared a wall with the single-story Prosper Public Library to its left.

  While the bright sunshine had Melinda yearning for warmer weather, Prosper’s little business district still showed the signs of a rough winter. In a few weeks, volunteers would scrub the iron benches that rested in front of the some of the businesses and gather the downed twigs and litter hiding between the buildings and along the curbs. Later in the season, Miriam would lead a group of volunteers to plant the flower baskets that would sway on the light poles all along Main.

  Melinda swept the narrow floor of the display window, then rearranged her props. There was just enough room for the dresser and a small, green-painted bench that was another of her second-hand finds. She stood back, checking their positions for balance and scale. “I can drape those lattice-patterned dish towels over the dresser drawers. And that vintage iron rack, once it is stocked with garden seeds, will look perfect on top.”

  The collection of new garden shovels could lean against the dresser’s side. A selection of shiny, waterproof boots would be cute lined up on the bench. She reached for one pair each in yellow and navy, then the neutral gray that was always so popular.

  At the last moment, she picked up the canary-colored set and checked their price tag. “Just the right size. Hmm.” She subtracted her employee discount, and set them to the side.
“Good thing there’s more of these upstairs. They’re just so pretty, even though I know they’ll get muddy soon enough. I’ve always been a sucker for a cute pair of shoes.”

  The sun beating in the window was so warm, Melinda almost removed her sweatshirt. Aunt Miriam, in a rush of spring fever, switched off the furnace and propped open the store’s oak front door. She stood in the doorway for a moment as a soft breeze, carrying the invigorating scent of thawing earth, brought fresh air into Prosper Hardware for the first time in months.

  “Well, would you look at that?” Miriam pointed across the street. “Look who’s here!”

  Melinda saw flashes of orange, and then heard the sweet songs of two robins as they danced among the still-bare branches of the volunteer bushes between City Hall and the vacant building on its right. “I spotted my first one at the farm yesterday. Seems a bit early, but I’m glad they’re back. The cardinals and jays that hog my feeders will have to start sharing.”

  Miriam glanced at the clock. “How about we get lunch from the Watering Hole? I’m buying. I’ll run back and get Bill’s order. Frank’s busy at City Hall, working on that history project. I’ll text him.”

  Melinda nodded her approval, then reached for the carton of vegetable seed packets, thrilled by the possibilities waiting inside. “This day keeps getting better. Aunt Miriam, you just saved me from some boring leftovers. I can’t wait for a cheeseburger smothered with ranch!”

  She filled the display rack until it was a rainbow of greens and yellows and reds, then made herself put the rest of the packets away. Trays packed with dozens of young plants already filled her canning room’s table. She had to rein in her enthusiasm, or give away half of everything she grew.

  “Here you go.” Miriam pulled some cash from her purse. “Bill wants his usual, that pizza burger thing. Frank wants a burger, no cheese. I’d like a chicken sandwich. Grilled would be better, of course, but fried is fine if that’s all they’ve got.”

  Melinda raised her eyebrows. Frank and Miriam were trying to eat healthier.

  “Don’t look at me like that. We ate fish last night. I’m overdue for something good. And don’t forget the fries.”

  Melinda had barely made it out the door when movement across the street caught her eye. Uncle Frank burst out of City Hall and dashed across Main, still clutching a stack of yellowed papers in one hand. Melinda wondered if he felt guilty about the burger, and now wanted a salad.

  “Don’t worry, Frank, there’s still time to change your order.” She laughed, then stopped when she saw the agitation on his face.

  “Melinda!” he gasped, his cheeks brighter than they should be. “I just can’t believe it! I can’t believe that map!”

  “What’s going on? You shouldn’t be getting worked up like this, with your heart and all. Is everything OK?”

  “Miriam won’t be, if what I just found out is really true!”

  Frank was puffing, still trying to catch his breath. Melinda gently pushed him down on the bench in front of the store. Before she could get any details out of him, he was back on his feet.

  “Bill’s here, right? We’ve gotta get …”

  Frank’s words disappeared as the screen door slammed behind him.

  “What’s all that racket?” Glenn Hanson came out of the post office, pulling on his windbreaker as he hustled down the sidewalk. “I saw Frank barrel across the street like his pants were on fire.”

  “I have no idea.” Melinda threw up her hands. “He ran over here, babbling something about a map. He just …”

  The screen door banged again. Frank was gesturing wildly to a perplexed Bill, who had a large metal spool in his hands. “I’m sure there’s just an error, Frank, especially if the map’s that old.”

  Frank snatched the spool and made Bill take the end of the measuring tape. He pointed at the far edge of the post office, which was on the corner of Third and Main. “Go to the curb, we’ll measure from there.”

  Bill sighed and shook his head, but did as he was told.

  “Good Lord!” Miriam popped out the screen door. “I go up to the office for five minutes … What’s this all about?” Glenn and Melinda could only shrug.

  “Honey, stop it!” she called after Frank, who was backing down the sidewalk, shaking his head and muttering. “Tell me what’s going on!”

  Frank lined himself up with the double wall that marked the end of Prosper Hardware and the start of the vacant, rundown building next door. He swore as he figured the measurement, then checked it again. His flushed face suddenly turned pale.

  Glenn rushed to his old friend’s side, beating Melinda and Miriam by mere seconds.

  “Now listen, you need to calm down.” He wrapped a supportive arm around Frank. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth all this fuss. You’re going inside to rest. Or I call an ambulance. It’s up to you.”

  “Calm down? I can’t calm down!” Frank was in tears as Miriam reached for his hand. “You have no idea. Honey, it’s the lot! I can’t believe it!”

  “What?” she gasped. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “This family’s owned Prosper Hardware for a hundred-and-twenty years. But if that map I just found is correct, we don’t own all the land under it.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Frank finally agreed to go inside, but was so agitated that Miriam reached for her phone.

  “I’m getting Jerry over here as soon as I can reach him,” she muttered to Melinda as she closed the front door, as if they could shut out what had just happened. “We need to sort this out, and quick. I’ve never seen Frank so upset.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” He threw his arms up in frustration, but sat in the folding chair Glenn pulled out by the sideboard. “Miriam, this is a big deal. I can’t believe how calm you are!”

  “Well, one of us needs to be. Honey, it’s going to be fine.”

  Bill dropped the measuring spool inside the door and opened the refrigerated case to get a chilled bottle of water. He was more exasperated than Melinda had ever seen him. “Here, Frank, you’re sweating like crazy. Miriam’s right. There has to be some explanation for all this. There’s no way the lot could be messed up like that. Everything was measured out, what, over a hundred years ago? There’s been no problem until now.”

  “But the numbers don’t match up!” Frank swallowed a gulp of water and slammed the bottle on the sideboard. He absentmindedly ran his hand through his white hair. “I know what our lot’s supposed to be, it’s all right there in the abstract. It’s off by five feet. Five! Something’s wrong, it just doesn’t make sense …”

  Glenn reached for another chair. “Frank, I want you to take a deep breath and start at the beginning. It’s the only way to sort this out.”

  The large wooden box was full of old documents and maps dating to when the town was incorporated in 1890. At that time, Prosper consisted of only a railroad line next to a modest depot, a handful of houses and the mercantile that was now City Hall. Just like today, the main road entered the community from the west, turned on a diagonal through the middle of town, then bent south to cross the river. The earliest map, dated from that year and signed by the town’s founders, laid out the little town’s four-block Main Street as well as residential areas three blocks’ deep in each direction. While most of the blocks had no lots marked out, the dimensions for the spaces fronting Main Street were clearly labeled.

  Further down in the crate, Frank discovered a second map dating from 1900, which was six years after Melinda’s great-great-grandparents opened Prosper Hardware. This one was more detailed, showing how the little community had grown over its first decade. And there, just northwest of the corner of Main and Third, was the problem: The lot width for Prosper Hardware was five feet wider than what was shown on the earlier map. The difference was deducted from the lot next door, which was still vacant at the time.

  The rest of the measurements in that block of Main were the same on both diagrams. All of the 1900 map’s numbers were repeated
on the 1910 and 1923 versions, also found in the wooden crate. But when Frank and Bill rolled out the measuring tape less than an hour ago, its answer was clear: The narrower lot width noted on the original, 1890 map seemed to be the right one.

  “So what you’re saying is,” Glenn put his hands over his face, as if trying to block out a terrible sight. “The last five feet over there, where you’ve got the clothing and stuff and most of that front window, isn’t sitting on your property?”

  “Yes!” Frank banged a palm on the sideboard. “Yes, that is what I’m saying.”

  Melinda’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the conversation yet find some way that it could not be true. “Are you sure about where you took the measurement? I mean, has Third Street shifted at any time, or was the sidewalk on the side of the post office added at a later date, anything that could change the outcome? Five feet’s not very much.”

  Glenn shook his head. “Nope. The post office has been on that lot, in that building on the corner, for over a hundred years. I don’t know what was there before that, but the street’s never changed. Hell, the city’s lucky to get the potholes filled in, there’s never been any money for major road reconstruction. Main Street only stays fixed up because it’s part of the county blacktop, and Prosper doesn’t have to foot the bill alone.”

  “Things around here don’t change.” Bill crossed his arms. “Not like they do in larger, growing cities. With little Prosper, what you see is what you get.”

  Frank stared at the floor. “And what we’ve got is a huge problem. And it starts,” he pointed to the far wall of the store, “right over there.”

  Miriam came in from the back of the building, where’d she gone to make a phone call away from the emotional debating, and put an arm around her husband. “Jerry’s on his way. He’s still at the school, then he’ll stop at City Hall and grab the newest maps they have before he comes over. I called the Watering Hole, ordered our lunch. Melinda, Jessie said give her fifteen minutes and it’ll be ready. We might as well eat something while we wait.”