Middle of Nowhere by Caroline Adderson Page B

her.
    She looked down at him. “I’m happy crying now.”
    As we got closer, the road started to dip and the trees thinned out and I could see that it was water, a giant, sparkling bowl of it. It was late morning and getting hotter, even under the trees.
    Mrs. Burt read my mind.
    â€œCurtis, can you swim?”
    â€œI’m a really good swimmer. We get free lessons in the summer.”
    â€œWhat about Artie?”
    â€œHe’s scared,” I said.
    â€œI am not!” said Artie.
    â€œHe can’t
ever
go in without a life jacket,” Mrs. Burt said. “Do you understand?”
    The cabin came into view.
    â€œThere it is!” she cried. “Still standing! We got a place to live!”
    Artie and I rushed ahead and tried to look inside. The windows were too grimy to see through and the curtains were closed. Mrs. Burt caught up and jiggled the padlock that hung off the door latch. Her fingers came away powdered with rust.
    â€œIsn’t it funny,” she said. “I can still remember where we used to hide that key.” She walked around the other side of the cabin, leaving the walker behind, dragging her hand along the wall for support. Above her head was a small window.
    She felt around on the sill, then looked confused, like maybe she misremembered after all. Artie squatted at her feet and picked something off the ground.
    The key.
    It didn’t work. The rusted key wouldn’t fit the rusted lock, but I had the ax. She asked me to use the flat end. After a few smashes, the whole latch tore right off the doorframe.
    I was first to see inside. Everything that could be torn apart was — torn apart so badly I couldn’t even tell what it was supposed to be. The stove was there and some wooden furniture, but everything else was all over the floor, shredded and scattered. Not only that, the place reeked.
    Mrs. Burt gasped and her knees gave way and she started to sink. I grabbed her just in time, gripping under her arms and easing her to the ground.
    â€œOh!” she moaned, covering her face. “I wish we’d never come! Who would do such a thing? People are no good! They’re no good! I always said so!”
    Her wailing set Artie wailing, too.
    I was still in shock about the mess, but not nearly as shocked as I was by what happened next.
    From inside came a thumping sound, then some high-pitched squeals. Before I could turn to look, a drumming started up like fingers imitating the gallop of horses. Like a hundred tiny horses, they poured out the cabin door. I looked down and saw a furry stream running between and around my legs. Both Artie and Mrs. Burt stopped wailing and gaped along with me.
    â€œSquirrels!” Mrs. Burt cried, clapping her hands. “Squirrels!”
    They vanished in a second. It would have been hard to believe what we’d seen if it wasn’t for the wrecked inside of the cabin. Mrs. Burt laughed and I helped her up again, which was hard, partly because she was laughing so hard. Artie was already hiding behind a tree.
    â€œYou can come out, Artie,” I called. “They’re gone.”
    â€œNo!”
    Mrs. Burt brushed herself off. Using the doorframe to steady herself, she took a brave step inside. She couldn’t get very far.
    â€œBoys, it’s been years since we used to come here. Yet nobody’s touched it! No person, I mean. It shows you. People around here are decent.”
    â€œEven though the squirrels aren’t,” I said.
    Artie shouted out from behind the tree, “Squirrels are no good!”

    IT TOOK HOURS to clear out the cabin. We emptied it and burned most of the stuff. Artie and I did. Mrs. Burt sat on a rock and told us what to do. Rip down the curtains and burn them. Burn the rugs. Burn any books that had been chewed up, which was most of them.
    There were two bedrooms in the cabin. We burned the old clothes that were in the drawers there, all the bedding, and the