DIgging Up Mr. Posey – book at Amazon.com
While Dana was wondering about her old neighbors, Remy was worrying about their new neighbors. Seated on a large limb in a tree on the border of Dana’s property and her great aunts’ property, Remy watched with eagle eyes the comings and goings of Orson and Joan Weldon. Six feet off the ground, the trunk split into three branches, two that shot up nearly vertical and one that shot out horizontally. It made the perfect seat. He could spread one leg out on the horizontal branch and lean back against one of the vertical branches with his arm around the third branch. Last year when he had been fascinated with all things pirate, he had pretended this spot was the crow’s nest of a black galleon ship. Now, he was using it for his stakeout lair. He knew what he had seen last night. And what he saw, he knew was very bad. There had been a body in the wheelbarrow. Remy didn’t think his aunt believed him completely. She was trying to, because he could tell by the way she listened and had gone out to search. His father would have said it was all in his imagination and told him to go back to sleep. But it wasn’t in his imagination and he was going to prove it.
Remy frowned. It was just like that movie he had watched where Martians had come down and gave everybody plants, and those plants became people who looked human, but weren’t. The people they resembled died. He figured that aliens were taking over Twilight Circle and that the body in the wheelbarrow was probably what was left of the old human body. Yep, the Weldons were mostly likely pod people by now. And it was up to him to protect his Aunt Dana from any harm. And maybe his two old great aunts too.
His only regret was that he hadn’t brought his telescope along. He didn’t want to break it and it was too hard to climb up the tree holding it, but he wished he had it. With all the oak leaves and distance between him and the Weldon’s house, he couldn’t get a good look into their windows. He would just have to be content with observing them when they were outside. Remy had seen Mr. Weldon earlier, carrying big bags of something from his car to the garage. He had craned his neck to get a better glimpse and had felt like an ostrich that he saw once at the zoo in Melville. Maybe the bags carried plant food for the Martian pod plants, he surmised. The Weldons or pod people were probably trying to hatch more of their fellow Martians. He bet the house was full of evil pod plants.
“Ruff! Ruff!”
Remy jumped, startled, and nearly fell out of his secret hiding perch. His heart pounding against his chest, the boy glanced down to see that blasted Hickey mutt below. Scout had his paws up on the tree trunk and was barking up at Remy.
“Shhhh! Scout, go away!”
The dog was about thirty-five pounds and was a mix of various long haired breeds. He looked much like a miniature sheep dog with white fur that was rarely white as Scout was always digging or rolling in something.
“Ruff! Ruff!” was Scout’s reply to Remy.
“I mean it! Get, Scout! You’ll give me away.” No sooner were the words spoken then Remy heard a husky voice from below.
“Well, what have you got here, old boy?” Mac inquired, petting the mutt. He looked straight up to see Remy. “Looks like you treed a nine-year-old,” Mac teased, keeping his other hand behind his back.
Furrowing his brow in protest, Remy retorted, “He didn’t tree me. I was here first!” Dang dog! Remy thought. Now he had been discovered. He liked being up there with no one knowing it. It gave him a feeling of power and a feeling of being safe. He rarely felt that way anymore.
Mac stared up with a smile. The corners of the boy’s mouth were turned down at the edges and Remy sat up straight with certain rigidity, as if defending his space. The boy didn’t like him yet, Mac could tell. “Where’s your Aunt Dana?” Mac asked, glancing toward the house.
