The Lucky Paw

Chapter 5

By the time Katy was seated back in bed, she had made up her mind not to tell Mrs. Patterson or Beth and Anna about the secret room. Her mother had kept it a secret, so Katy wanted to, too.

The next morning Katy woke up excited, thinking about the old diary. She was certain that it had belonged to her mother. But why had she left the book behind? Perhaps the answer had something to do with her mysterious disappearance.

Katy wanted to believe that Chandler Strook was still alive. But after nine years apart from Katy, it was most likely that she had died. Or if she hadn't, she probably had amnesia. If Chandler was perfectly fine, Katy thought, she would have called or visited me or wrote letters. It seemed unlikely that her mother would stay out of touch for so long.

"Katy! Breakfast!" Mrs. Patterson shouted. Katy came thundering down the stairs like a mini hurricane. Anita was right behind her. Breakfast was juicy sausage links and pancakes, both of which tasted delicious and tangy.

"Katy," said Mrs. Patterson, "I scheduled an appointment with your doctor on Wednesday." "Oh, Mrs. Patterson, you didn't have to!" Katy said. "I don't need a checkup." "It's not a checkup," replied Mrs. Patterson. "Then what is it for?" Katy asked in a small voice. Mrs. Patterson sighed. "I saw your track practice yesterday." "You didn't look as if you were fine." "I am fine! It was just a little downfall! I don't need to go to the doctor about it!" Katy knew she was whining, but didn't care.

She hated getting shots. Her doctor, Dr. Miller, was nice, but Katy always hated going to the doctor.

"You're going, Katy," Mrs. Patterson said in a firm voice. "Okay," Katy said dejectedly. She shuffled up the stairs. She reached for the pendant, but it wasn't there.

With a start, Katy remembered that she had not put it on that morning. She was angry. If she had not forgotten to put it on, perhaps the bad luck would not have happened.

Katy wanted to read the old diary, entry by entry. She decided to risk going up into the space with Mrs. Patterson around. She desperately wanted to read the journal.

Just as she was about to open the tile to the attic, Mrs. Patterson stuck her head in the doorway. " Anita and I are going for a walk in the park. Would you like to come?" she asked. "No, thanks," Katy replied. "Okay," Mrs. Patterson said. "Keep the doors locked. We'll be home in two or three hours." Katy nodded.

Normally, Katy would have accepted a trip to the park readily. But she was eager to read the old journal. And with the Pattersons out of the house, it was a golden opportunity to do it.

Katy tapped the ceiling tile with her hand, and the tile moved inward easily. Katy smiled at the dusty crawl space and hoisted herself up. She wasted no time in getting to the diary to begin reading the second entry.

May 7, 1995

I really meant to write more often. But there is so much to do around the house! What with sewing, painting, cooking, and cleaning, caring for Katy, there is always much to do. I was kept busy for many weeks, tending to the house and family. Every once in a while I come up here to just be by myself for a few minutes. Things are so hectic lately, sometimes I need some peace and quiet to just think. I can never stay long, though. Mother needs constant help with the chores. I wish Father and Mike didn't have to work quite so often. My mother works only on weekends. My father works on weekends and weekdays. Mike has weekends off. However you look at it, everyone is working far too much. Not that I don't understand that we need to make money, but everyone needs a little break now and then. Father always has dark circles underneath his eyes, and it worries me to have him working so hard. Father is trying to support our small family, I know. But I still barely see any of him at all, because when he comes home, he is so tired that he goes straight to bed. Mother brings him soup and tea. We are all rushed trying to get everything done and make money. I have sold a few of my belongings, but they only brought a small amount of money, and were not much help. If only I could sell my sewn clothes and my paintings, we would not be so poor. I know for a fact that people will pay quite a bit of money for good quality clothes and paintings. So I just go on, sewing and painting as usual, trying to think of a way to sell them. Right now I am sewing a blouse and painting a statue.

Katy was lost in thought. She had had no idea of her mother's background or heritage. She did not know that they were poor. From what Katy remembered, they had enough money to get by quite easily. Katy glanced at her watch. She had time to read another entry before the Pattersons returned. She opened the book and began reading again.

June 7, 1995

I have decided to write in this journal every month on the 7th. Since April 7th is my birthday, I figure writing on the seventh every month might bring me good luck. I guess it's just an old superstition, but somehow it makes me feel better. We have been busy, Mother and I. My mother is a notorious neat freak, so she makes me help her do an immense cleaning of the whole house, including the cellar, every June. She calls it Spring Cleaning, even though it's really summer when we're doing it. Katy is such a good baby and sleeps a lot, so that helps me get the cleaning done.

Katy was stunned. She couldn't remember anything from when she was a newborn.

She did not remember Chandler's parents, because they had died when Katy was three, and Katy only remembered things from when she was four and five. She didn't have a clue how her mother's parents had died, because her mother, nor her father, ever talked about them. And Katy had simply forgotten about them. She did remember, however, that when she was four and five, there was no Spring Cleaning.

Katy checked her watch. It was 10:30. Two and a half hours had passed. Mrs. Patterson had said they would be back in two or three hours. Katy sighed. She knew she just wanted an excuse to read more of the diary. She opened the book gingerly, and read on.

September 7, 1995

Wow, it has been forever since I have last written. But I have been extremely busy, for a good reason. One of my paintings finally sold! I was painting the statues in front of the library, and a woman came up and offered me a good sum of money for the painting. She must have told friends about it, because pretty soon, lots of people are showing up, wanting more paintings of the statues. Sometimes I was up working until midnight, painting. However, Mother, Father, and Mike are thrilled. I may not have much time to tend to Katy, but Mother helps out, and besides, I am making money. Now if only I could sell my sewn clothes and other paintings, I could really have a business going! I can really see myself working in a quaint little shop, making and selling clothes and paintings. But I probably won't get that shop very soon. We are stretched on money, though not terribly, but it still costs a lot to open and decorate a shop, even a small one. And what if my clothes and paintings do not sell?

Katy wondered how her mother could ever have been so reluctant to sell her beautiful clothes and artwork. Maybe she didn't think they were good enough. People would be getting a very good deal to have her paintings for under five hundred dollars. They were worth much more.

Katy couldn't understand why her mother didn't simply stack the clothes and paintings on a table and label a sign "For Sale". She was too shy, I guess, Katy thought.

Either way, she didn't have a clue that when she was first born, they were poor, because as far back as Katy could remember, they had had many things and never needed money. But times did change.