The Buried Book Read Online Free Page A

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    Jasper’s feet had found their way to the end of the cornfield. He’d never seen this part of the farm before. It was a foreign country. He wouldn’t have been surprised if some person in odd-looking clothes approached him, speaking a language he didn’t understand. But there was no one.
    Instead of corn, neat rows of short leafy greens stretched before him for over five hundred feet before turning into tall brown wheat near the horizon. A hundred feet to the left, there was a split-rail fence and then more corn. Three hundred feet to the right, there stood a field of bushy-looking grass that rose up to his chest. At the far end, he could just make out something tall and bulky hidden behind a stand of trees. He puzzled at it.
    Jasper picked his way through the leafy greens he suspected were sugar beets and into the thick, bushy grass. Oats, he thought. These were probably oats. Uncle Leo always answered his questions about the different crops. He didn’t say much else, but his uncle never tired of talking about farming. Leo even let Jasper steer the tractor a few times. He’d stand between his uncle’s knees while his enormous work boots operated the metal levers.
    Uncle Leo isn’t so bad, Jasper told himself. Even if he wanted to shoot his own sister for being a bad cow, he never would. Even as he thought it, he couldn’t help but worry.
    She must be dead then.
    She can’t be dead, Jasper argued with himself. He ran his hand over the tops of the long grass. The blades tickled across his palm until he squished a handful in his fist. The idea that someone might’ve killed her is just silly. He could hear her voice saying the word silly .
    Your head’s just inventing more nightmares, Jasper. It can’t ever seem to keep still, can it? Stop worrying over every little thing.
    Jasper looked down at his muddy socks. He hadn’t bothered to put on shoes. One of his toes was poking out of a new hole he’d just made in the left one. She’d be furious if she could see him standing there in the middle of a field, upsetting everybody. She’d told him to be good. Jasper looked back over his shoulder at the empty rows of corn behind him. He’d probably get a beating for running off. He probably deserved it. He thought about turning back for a split second but thought better of it. If he was going to catch a whupping either way, he might as well put it off for a while. He wanted to see what was out there hiding behind those trees. Jasper kept heading through the field toward the horizon.
    She just went out shopping. That’s all. She’s just over the bridge in Windsor, buying more of those flowery teacups she loves. Dad’s always complaining she cares more about those silly knickknacks than . . .
    Bare splintered wood emerged from behind the branches like a shipwreck on the shores of Lake Huron. As he rounded past the trees, the shipwreck became a house. Or what was left of a house.
    An overgrown path at the edge of the field led to the falling-down front porch. Half the house was charred away. Black and gray ash had devoured the siding and roof shingles. The windows were cracked and clouded in soot. The roof had caved in along the west eave, making the house as crooked as a bent old man. The front door hung halfway open from a broken hinge, beckoning him inside.
    Jasper circled the wreckage of the lonely building. He scanned the surrounding fields and overgrown front yard. The road that had once led to the house had been plowed over and planted. They had just left it to crumble. They hadn’t even bothered to tear it down.
    It was twice as big as Uncle Leo’s cabin. The first floor contained twelve windows and a front and back porch. The second floor was tucked up under the roof with only one window peeking out from each end. It was more of an attic, really, before the roof had caved in.
    The handrail for the front porch steps toppled over into the weeds when Jasper gave it a tug. A small creature scurried out