Blood Secret by Kathryn Lasky

don’t think she wants to.” Jerry looked down at her sewing.
    “Well, it’s up to Jerry,” Constanza said. “Maybe some other time.”
    Sinta began gathering up her things as her mother had just pulled up in her car. Jerry and Constanza walked with her toward the drive. Sinta turned to wave as she climbed into the car. Jerry waved back absently. She was thinking about the cellar. When she had turned to look around just before she and Sinta came up, she had thought it looked ordinary. But she knew it wasn’t. She knew if she went down again, it wouldn’t seem ordinary at all.

Chapter 7
    J ERRY HELPED C ONSTANZA in the cook yard for the rest of the afternoon. Then Constanza came over as Jerry was raking out the last oven. She was holding a bunch of scraggly-looking roots.
    “Seed onions,” Constanza said. “Ugly, aren’t they?” She snorted and held up the bunch. When she held them that way, with their white, dry roots pulled back, the onions did look a bit like bony heads with scraggly hair. “Want to help me plant them? I always plant my onions in early March, then put cold frames upside down on them. It’s warm now, but you never know when a blizzard can sweep down from the mountains.”
    Jerry nodded.
    “Good! I’ll get the rototiller. Teach you how to drive it.”
    Jerry wondered if this was something she had to ride like a tractor. Constanza returned a few minutes later pushing a machine about the size of a small lawn mower.
    She pulled the starter cord and the motor roared. Then Constanza immediately turned it off. “Now you try.” Jerry looked at her. “Go on. This is something you got to learn how to do. Start an engine with a whipcord.”
    Jerry bent down and pulled on the cord. She heard a small wheeze of a wheel turning. “You got to snap it smart like. It’s all in the snap.” Jerry tried two more times. She got it to sputter. “See, it’s harder than starting a car. I think cars should have whipcords—make them more challenging. Harder for robbers to get away too.”
    On the fourth try Jerry got it.
    “Okay, now I’m going to throw it into gear. Hang on.”
    Jesus! Jerry thought. The thing leaped out in front of her and took on a life of its own. She hung on. The vibrations were huge. She felt her arms might shiver out of her shoulder sockets.
    Constanza was yelling at her over the roar. “Head for that patch right in front of you.” Jerry jiggeredover to where Constanza was pointing, her teeth rattling, her hair quivering. Even her eyeballs seemed to shake. “Now tip it forward so it can lock into the dirt.” The rotary blades sliced through the soil. “Don’t worry about keeping it straight, just try to keep a steady pressure on it.”
    Jerry watched as the red soil came up in little clumps. “Good job. Now turn the corner. Just tip it back a little bit. There you go.”
    Twenty minutes later the onion patch was tilled. Constanza gave her a trowel, and together Jerry and her aunt sank down on their knees and began to dig holes for the seed onions. The soil was soft and damp, and Jerry could almost feel it drink up the last of the vibrations that still ricocheted through her body. The earth smelled like the root cellar. She could almost imagine that glow behind the light that seemed to saturate the air.
    After they had finished planting the onions, she helped her aunt arrange the cold frames on top.
    “Oh, look,” said Constanza. “That glass pane over in the corner of this frame is half in, half out. I’m going to have to reset it with some putty. Tell you what, Jerry, go down to the root cellar. There’s a can of putty on the shelf just beneath the window.Fetch it for me. I don’t think I’ll do it today, it’s getting late. But if you can put the can by the sink in the kitchen, I’ll remember to do it tomorrow.”
    Jerry opened the cellar door. The dim amber light seemed to reach out for her. As she walked down the stairs, she felt as if with each step she was