[where are your roots?]

Jessie was thankful that the twins were mostly oblivious. She'd met
perceptive children with a knack for asking pointed questions -- and she'd
been one -- but the twins were not inquisitive that way at all. They'd
rather make truck noises and play in the dirt, or spend all day making
swords and play-fighting about the farm. She was thankful for that, both
their ability to play with whatever was at hand, and that they'd never ask
what was going on, even if Helen was giving icy stares over stew for dinner.

She retreated to her room for the night as quickly as she could, but before
she could even start to sleep, she heard a knock at the door. No giggle
following it, so it wasn't the twins playing games of who-could-be-more-
annoying. 

"What is it, Aunt Helen?"

"I need to talk to you."

Jessie sighed, and decided she'd rather know now what her punishment was
rather than waiting for morning.

"Come on in."

Helen sat on the bed, somewhat more gently than Jessie expected. Her face
softened, and even her usual scowl was replaced with something else.

"You need to be very careful if you are opening boxes in that shed.
Everything the old owner of this house ever did is in there, and she was
not someone to be trifled with. She was a thorn in a very many people's
sides, and she made quite a number of enemies in this town and elsewhere.
Those people are now in some powerful places and can make no end of
trouble."

Jessie blinked, and realized she was entirely unprepared for how this
conversation was unfolding.

"Like what, Aunt Helen?"

"Let me tell you a few things about this house. I didn't just pick it
because it was something I could afford at tax auction. I knew Eleanor
Black. I suspected she had more than a few secrets buried in this house, and
I suspected that it might be good if someone friendly kept them for her. I
hear you know quite something about her too. Those trips to the library you
make to talk with Ms. Jacobs caught my eye. I knew you'd been prying into
the things in that shed."

"How did you know?" Jessie couldn't decide whether to be more surprised that
she'd been found out long ago, or that Aunt Helen had more than a half dozen
words to say at once.

"I look in on it every now and then. I notice when things move." Helen
fondled something on a string around her neck, and Jessie realized that
there was a second chain there that she'd never noticed. A lot plainer than
even the simple necklaces that Helen wore. A second key.

Helen pulled it out. "I suppose you recognize this."

It was almost identical to the old key on the ribbon in Jessie's pocket. She
felt for it instinctively. Aunt Helen's was cleaner, shiny still, its tin
coating not having worn off in the elements, hiding in the weeds near the
mailbox. The shape was impossible to mistake, though, the delicate
protrusion of the blade and the arches forming the handle, leaving a loop
perfect to put a piece of ribbon or a chain through.