When she got to Toby, the baby looked at him and said, “Hi.” Toby laughed and pulled her into his arms, then he got to his feet and the four siblings formed a small huddle around their littlest member.
“My do it,” Penny chirped, feeling smug about just how perfectly her plan had worked.
“Yes, you did,” Kim said.
“Let’s promise to never lose each other again,” said Kimo. The others nodded, and Pippa sang out, “Give a loud shout—” Suddenly into the huddle poked a small yellow-and-brown head. It was Zephyr, blinking his enormous eyes with their long lashes. The siblings looked at each other and sang out together, “We’ve got a giraffe!” Then they all shouted different things: “He fits right in,” “He always grins,” “He’s lost his kin.” And Toby tried, “We named him Tim,” which made them all laugh, especially Penny, who understood every word the older children were saying.
EPILOGUE
It was several months later, at a small party celebrating the birth of Mr. Knuckles’s and Asha’s baby, that I first heard this story from the Fitzgerald-Trouts. We were eating doughnuts and drinking papaya juice and the whole room was filled with the warm, pleasant scent of dryers (a number of the guests had brought laundry to do during the party). I was telling Kimo that I had been away from the island and was sorry I’d missed his attempt to break the island record.
“Doesn’t matter,” the boy said.
“I hope you’ll try again,” I offered.
“He doesn’t need to try again,” Pippa said cryptically, and her siblings all laughed. I must have looked confused because the next thing I knew they were telling me the story of Kimo’s jump onto the roof of the record studio.
“That’s wonderful,” I said. “I hope you told Ms. Bonicle.”
“Yeah,” said Kimo. “She was happy. She’s gonna set up another track meet so I can do it in front of a crowd.”
Then it occurred to me to ask, “Why in the heck were you trying to break into the record studio anyway?” They looked at each other—one to another—as if they were making sure everyone agreed, and then they quickly filled me in on their adventure finding the Castle and how things between them had gone wrong after they’d found it.
“We love the Castle,” said Kim. “But family is the most important home.”
“It’s true,” said Kimo.
“But that doesn’t mean we aren’t fixing the Castle up,” Pippa added. She explained that her shop teacher, Bronco Bragg, had helped her sell a piece of scrimshaw that she’d found to buy a big load of lumber and nails and tools. He and a limo driver named Leon were helping the children build walls and a proper roof for the Castle.
“We were trying to decide if we should just have one big room or if we should have separate rooms,” Kimo said. “Then we realized the Castle is so big that we can have both.”
“My room will have a shelf where I can put Goldie’s jar,” said Toby, gesturing to the goldfish who he’d brought with him to the laundromat.
“And we can have a kitchen,” said Kim. “With shelves and a table and chairs.” She was holding onto Penny’s hands and the little baby was standing on her own two feet. She was going to be walking any day now. “It’s going to be a proper home, and we’re going to use proper table manners.” Kim gave a grin.
Pippa rolled her eyes. “Ever since Kim got an A on her speech, eating with her is no fun.” I could see that Pippa was only trying to sound annoyed when really she was proud of her older sister.
Just then Asha brushed past us, carrying her tiny daughter in her arms. She smiled radiantly. “It’s time to announce the baby’s name.” She and Mr. Knuckles had not told anyone what they were calling their little girl.
“You’re not naming her Baby Girl, are you?” asked Kim.
“I wouldn’t be smiling like this if we were,” said Asha.
“Fitzgerald-Trouts, where are you?” Mr. Knuckles called out from his spot over by the cash register. He was holding up his glass of papaya juice like he was preparing to make a toast.
“Over here,” the children said, waving to him.
“These kids best parents we know,” he said to the assembled guests. “And they name their baby Penny.”
“Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you’ll have good luck,” Asha sang out across the crowd.
“We want good luck too,” said Mr. Knuckles. “So we name our daughter…Nickel.” He lifted his glass even higher. “To Nickel Knuckles.”
“Nickel Knuckles,” they all chorused. The baby in Asha’s arms was curled up with her eyes closed shut. She was too sleepy to care what her name was yet.
“Awesome name,” said Toby, and the rest of us agreed.
Now Asha spoke to the assembled guests. “The Fitzgerald-Trout children have offered to teach us a few things about how to be good parents. So we wanted to ask…” She turned to look at the children. “Would you be Nickel’s godparents?”
I was watching the Fitzgerald-Trouts and I saw the effect these words had on them. They wiped the doughnut crumbs from their lips and straightened their backs, then Kim stepped forward and said, “Of course we would. We’d be thrilled.” She began to describe to all of us what terrific parents she thought Mr. Knuckles and Asha would make. She talked about their kindness, their generosity, their love—all qualities essential to being a good parent. At the end of her speech, Kim raised her glass and said, “To Asha and Mr. Knuckles and their baby girl.” Everyone repeated Kim’s words, clinked their glasses, and drank their juice.
The party began to break up. The children filled their backpacks with their clean laundry and said their goodbyes, then they headed for the door. I trailed behind them.
“I’m thinking of writing another book,” I said. “What would you say to letting me tell this story?” They looked at each other and again seemed to communicate without speaking. “We could meet somewhere you like,” I said. “I’ll bring ginker cake.” I knew it was their favorite.
“It wouldn’t be a bad thing for other kids to know what happened to us,” said Kim. “How we almost lost each other.” No one disagreed.
“How’s next Sunday?” I asked.
“There’s a fishing stream that we like,” said Kimo. He told me exactly where it was and we agreed on a time for our picnic. Then they started across the parking lot, where mynah birds were bathing in the rain puddles.
“Is there any chance I could meet Zephyr?” I said.
“Oh no,” said Pippa, looking back at me. “After what happened to us, we knew we couldn’t keep him. We took him back to his family.”
“You took him back?”
“Bronco Bragg knew where they were. In that new animal safari park on the North Shore. We drove him there ourselves,” she added. “In the limo. His neck fit right through the sunroof.”
With that, they turned their backs on me and walked toward the long black car. Toby holding his goldfish. Kimo holding the baby. Pippa and Kim carrying backpacks full of clean laundry.
“See you soon,” I called out. When they didn’t say anything, I tried again. “I see you’ve still got the limo.”
It was Kimo who turned back this time, squinting at me and saying, “Clarice hasn’t even noticed. Can you imagine that?” He smiled and I swear the baby in his arms winked at me. Then they all climbed into the limousine and I watched them drive away.
THANK-YOUS
My deepest thanks to the Fitzgerald-Trout children, who let me tell this story. To my invaluable readers: Solomon Alba, Gemma Fudge, Jozy Liftin-Harris, Silas Liftin-Harris, Sara O’Leary, Hilary Liftin, Finn Sanders, Graley Sanders, Kristin Sanders, Linda Spalding, Augie Thorne, Sylvie Thorne, and Serena Zarin. Thanks to Liam Temple for Ms. Bonicle. To Anastasios Theodorou for his insights into pole vaulting. To the incomparable Gregg Gellman, Jerry Kalajian, and Jackie Kaiser. To Jen Dana, for her belief. To Lee Gatlin, for bringing
the book to life. To Susan Rich, with me from the beginning. To Tara Walker, Peter Phillips, John Martz, and especially Lynne Missen, without whom this book would not exist. To Semi Chellas, the greatest collaborator a writer could ask for. To Douglas, always. And finally, thanks to Philip E. Spalding III (Pea Tree) for the memories.
Shout Out for the Fitzgerald-Trouts Page 16