The Great Snapping Turtle Adventure by Susan Yaruta-Young Page A

next week. Unfortunately for them, folk on the Shore do talk, and rumors spread, so it took ten years before anybody else considered buying the place. The Tappers from Trappe decided to try their luck at inn-keeping.” Miss Marie slapped her head, then shook her long braid of hair quickly. “I just hate it when those mosquitoes try to nibble my scalp.”
    â€œUgh!” groaned Charles.
    â€œOh geez,” agreed Max, slapping at an imaginary monster on his head.
    â€œSo, the Tappers bought it,” urged Fred, trying to keep his mind free of bites.
    â€œWell, not exactly. See the Tappers were leery of what might be happening here at the Inn, and they decided, before they sunk any money into it, they’d have a séance here to see if anyone spoke up. They called in a local woman by the name of Marge who was supposed to be good at communicating with the world beyond. She had her own business out on the highway, reading palms and doing some channeling work on the side.”
    â€œWhat’s channeling?” asked Max.
    â€œThat’s when someone can go into a trance, like they’re asleep. When they get in that sleep state, a spirit from the world beyond can come and speak through them,” said Miss Marie. She took a sip of her iced tea and rocked her chair a couple of times in silence.
    â€œWow, really?” asked Charles.
    â€œSome famous people have done it,” said Fred. “Abraham Lincoln’s wife wanted to contact him after he died. She tried to several times through séances.”
    â€œAny luck?”
    â€œSome people claim so,” said Fred. “You’ll have to read up on it when we get home.”
    â€œNow, that’s what I call interesting summer reading,” said Miss Marie.
    â€œYeah, beats the school book list,” said Max.
    â€œAnyway, Marge came in and went into a trance immediately. And from her lips came all this wailing and sadness. She threw up her arms as if she were going to scrape the paint right off the ceiling with her fingernails. The candles they had lit, to create more of an atmosphere, began flickering. Everyone in the room started holding on to each other and wishing they hadn’t come for the séance. Then the wailing stopped and the soft little voice of a young woman started talking. It was a sad tale, I can tell you.”
    â€œWhat???” whispered Fred, Max, and Charles.
    â€œThe voice was of a young woman. When she was twenty years old, she had married her best friend. They had grown up together, known each other since meeting on the school playground their very first day of school. Both were age five and the only first graders in the one-room school house. The friendship grew as they grew, and when they were twenty years old, they married. Some said they were a love match made by angels. One year after their wedding, to the very day, a baby girl was born. Everyone said: ‘happiest little family ever.’ And they were successful. They lived in the home of his family, the farm prospered, the baby girl was healthy, growing perfectly. Then the bad times came.”
    â€œBad times? Oh no,” Max said.
    â€œI don’t think I want to know,” Charles whispered. “No, I do. Please go on with the story.”
    â€œSpring came and the crops were off to a healthy start, growing quickly. It was going to be a good year, a bumper crop year, everyone said so. But by May, it had not rained in a month. Sun burned hot each day. Fields and fields of fresh green crops turned golden, then brown and parched. People prayed for rain. One Sunday, ministers in all the local churches, big and small, preached the Old Testament story about Joseph and the seven-year drought, and all prayed for a change in the weather. It was not too late to replant and harvest a crop before frost.
    â€œThat very afternoon, clouds darkened the skies. By dusk, thunder could be heard in the distance, then closer and closer.