“He ain’t my daddy.”
“I guess he’d like to give it a try,” Aunt Charlene said, “if you’d let him.”
I rested my head on her shoulder, still fighting the urge to cry. How could I give Joe Hughes a chance at anything when it was all his fault I wouldn’t be looking for Daddy on Sunday?
Chapter 22
The next evening I sat between Tommy and Carla at the Myron baseball diamond, watching Fourth of July fireworks explode in the sky. I’d been chewing on my knuckles for the past half hour, still trying to come up with a scheme for the weekend. Tommy hadn’t been any help, even when I’d told him our dads would be at the cabin on Sunday. I had the feeling he was secretly glad about Daddy Joe’s weekend plans.
Carla clutched her ears and whooped when the night lit up with color. She snuggled against Daddy Joe, then crawled onto his lap and stuffed her Raggedy Andy doll into his shirt pocket. It dangled upside down by a cloth leg.
I watched them from the corner of my eye, remembering the last time I went to the fireworks with my real daddy. It seemed like a hundred years ago. I pushed the thought out of my mind and moved two rows down, where I didn’t have to look at them anymore. Tommy followed me. It turned out we’d parked ourselves right behind Ernestine and Ada Jane.
“You’d better stop that,” Ada Jane said when my knee accidentally jabbed her back. She spun around and scrunched her eyes at me. “I’m telling my grandma if you don’t.”
I flicked a crumb off the bleacher into her hair. “Go ahead. Tell your dumb old grandma anything you want. Tell her to go sit her big, fat butt on a tack.”
I could’ve sworn I heard Ernestine swallow a giggle. Tommy cracked up laughing, spitting root beer on his shorts. “Yeah, tell her to go sit on a whole box of tacks,” he said. “Maybe it’ll let all the air out of her butt. Maybe she’ll win a prize for letting out the world’s biggest fart.”
Ada Jane scooted down the bleachers, away from us. “Come on, Ernestine, let’s go. I don’t want to catch any cooties from you know who,” she said.
Ernestine looked back at me, chomping her gum a million miles a minute. She winked a bunch of times like something was up.
“You got any more of that gum?” Tommy asked.
“Hurry up, Ernestine,” Ada Jane said. “You know we ain’t allowed to hang around them. And don’t give him any of that gum—it’s mine. I’m the one that bought it for you.” By now Ada Jane had moved to the end of the bleachers, but she was still watching over her shoulder, tapping her fingers on the metal seat.
Ernestine’s green eyes glowed bright as the moon. Her hair had slipped out of its ponytail and hung in long, tangled curls around her face, just like always. She turned her head so Ada Jane couldn’t see her, then crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. I laughed out loud. Ernestine’s goofiness made me ache for the time when we did everything together, just her, me, and Tommy. These days I could hardly get her alone for one second, not even long enough to tell her the news about Daddy.
Tommy unwrapped the piece of gum she handed him. “I’ve got to tell you something,” I whispered.
Ernestine’s eyes darted to Ada Jane, then back to me. “And I’ve got to tell you something,” she said. “You guys meet me on your bikes behind the Polar Meat Locker tomorrow at noon. I’ll tell you then.”
When she turned to leave, something crossed my mind. A plan. “Wait,” I said.
“Hurry up, Ernestine,” Ada Jane snapped.
Ernestine looked from me to Ada Jane, then back to me. “What?”
“Are you lighting candles with Ada Jane at church Sunday?”
She nodded. “Why?”
“Can I take your place?” I asked, not believing my own ears.
“For real? With Ada Jane?”
“Yeah.”
“What for?” Tommy said. “I thought you hated being an acolyte, especially with her.”
“Never mind,” I said. “I just need to, that’s all.”
“Sure,” Ernestine said, and then she was gone, racing toward the concession stand with Ada Jane.
Ernestine had found the church money, I was sure of it. But if I couldn’t get to Daddy on Sunday, it wouldn’t matter one bit, even if we told on Ada Jane. Because then Castor Oil would start asking questions, like where the money Tommy and I were caught with had come from.
I had to meet Ernestine tomorrow; I had to warn her not to say anything about the money—even if she’d found it.
I started back up the bleachers to Mama. Somehow, I had to get on her good side. I had to make my plan work. I took her hand, fiddling with the diamond ring Daddy Joe had given her. “I’m real sorry about yesterday,” I said. “What I said wasn’t nice. I didn’t mean it, I promise.”
She swept a lock of hair from my eyes. “That’s very mature of you to apologize, honey.”
“But I still can’t go to Polly County,” I said. “I can’t help it. Ada Jane just reminded me it’s my Sunday to light the church candles. Ernestine did it last week, and Ada Jane said there ain’t no one else to ask. I’d forgotten all about it.”
“Maybe you can trade weeks,” Mama said. “I’ll talk to Mirabelle.”
“No, that won’t work,” I said, my heart racing faster with every word. “I’m already signed up and everything.”
Daddy Joe’s deep voice took me by surprise. “It’s good to see you’re taking this commitment seriously,” he said. “If you’re on the schedule to light candles, I don’t want to interfere with it. We’ll plan something for another weekend.”
“Thanks,” I said, then turned my head and let out a long stream of air. I’d done it! And for once Daddy Joe’s nosing in my business had paid off. I took a deep breath and crossed my fingers: I had one more thing to take care of with Mama. “Can I ride bikes with Tommy and Ernestine tomorrow? Please. Just for a little while.”
“Where?” Mama said, raising her eyebrows.
“Around town. Ernestine asked us.”
“You miss her, don’t you?”
I nodded, trying to look as pathetic as possible.
“Okay, I’m going to let you. You’ve worked hard the last two weeks. I’ll talk to Charlene about it. But I don’t want to hear the first word about any trouble.”
I grinned from ear to ear, giving Mama a hug as the last of the fireworks boomed above us.
On the walk home Daddy Joe lit sparklers for everyone. Carla pouted when her two burned out, so he gave her an extra one, which meant she got more than I did. Like usual, he favored her over me; she always got the extra when something was uneven.
I waved my sparkler in big circles, remembering the last Fourth of July fireworks I’d gone to with my real daddy, just three years ago. He’d given us kids at least fifty sparklers apiece. It’d taken us a whole hour to burn them up.
“Where’d you get all those sparklers?” Mama had asked him. She had a doubtful look on her face, like she suspected funny business.
“Courtesy of the Lions Club,” Daddy answered, grinning at me. “They’ll never miss them.”
“You mean you took—”
“Now don’t get your bowels in an uproar,” Daddy had joked. “They had a whole crate of them. It’s no big deal. Russell got some, too.”
But Mama wouldn’t let up. “You’ve got to pay for them, Earl,” she’d said later.
“Uh…yeah, sure,” Daddy had promised. “I’ll get down there tomorrow and take care of it.”
“Watch out, Billie!” Carla yelled, startling me out of my daydream. She was twirling in circles, whipping her last sparkler around like a sword. She nearly caught my blouse on fire.
“Whoa there! Better watch where you’re walking, Billie,” Daddy Joe said. “I don’t want you kids to get burned.”
Well, here we go again, I thought. First he gives Carla the extra sparkler, and then he tells me to watch where I’m walking. Couldn’t he see it was Carla’s fault? And who did he think he was kidding; he didn’t want me to get burned? I bet
he wouldn’t care one bit if I smoldered into a heap of ashes right there in the middle of the sidewalk. The only thing Daddy Joe cared about was hogging all of Mama’s attention. He’d had his long octopus arms wrapped around her half the night.
I slowed down to walk beside Tommy. “I can’t go with you and Ernestine tomorrow,” he said. “I ain’t got a bike anymore.” He trapped a lightning bug between the palm of his hands, peeking through his fingers at it.
“Let’s go get it.” The words popped out of my mouth so fast they surprised even me.
“What? You mean go over to Goble’s house? We can’t do that.”
“Why not? It’s your bike, ain’t it? It’s not like we’re stealing it.”
“I’m not allowed out. My mom would kill me if she found out I snuck over to the Watsons’.” Tommy eyed Aunt Charlene like he was afraid she’d heard him, but her and Bud Castor were several feet ahead of us, walking side by side. They were plastered together tighter than Band-Aids, hooting with laughter about some joke Bud had just told.
Tommy jerked his thumb toward them and whispered, “Castor Oil’s over at my place all the time now. What if him and my mom catch me sneaking out?”
“They’ll never know. They aren’t going to look in your bedroom. Besides, we’ll wait until after everyone goes to bed.”
He darted after another lightning bug, missing it by a mile.
“You aren’t scared, are you?” I said.
“Who said I’m scared?” He stopped on the sidewalk, socking a fist into his hand. “I’d like to get hold of that scumbag Goble, just once. He ain’t as tough as he thinks he is.”
A half hour later Tommy and I stood in the street, staring at the run-down house where Goble Watson lived with his six brothers and sisters and their loudmouthed mother. Even though it’d been my idea, I was already worried about sneaking out. If Mama caught me, she’d never let me out of the house tomorrow. But then I reminded myself she could sleep through a hurricane. I’d closed my bedroom door, just in case Daddy Joe got up during the night. If only Carla didn’t wake up, I’d be safe. Besides, it’s not like we were doing anything wrong. All we wanted was to get Tommy’s bike back. Goble didn’t have any right to keep it.
A shiver slid down my spine when I saw the Watsons’ German shepherd chained to a tree by the side of the house. He had some kind of bone on the ground in front of him, but he looked up and bared his teeth at us. A long, low growl rumbled in the back of his throat.
We didn’t see Tommy’s bike anywhere in the front yard, but truthfully, it would’ve been hard to find anything in that junk heap. Broken toys, rusted tools, lamps without shades, and garbage cans were flung all over the place. A wringer washing machine sat at the bottom of the porch steps with weeds growing out of it, and a sign that said NITE CRAWLERS 4 SALE was taped to its side. I counted seven cars parked in the middle of the yard, some with their hoods open, one of them missing all its doors.
We made a wide circle around the dog and headed toward the backyard. We were crouched beside a shed when I spotted something under a pile of automobile parts near the house. It looked like the spokes of a bike wheel. I crept closer, trying to get a better look. Sure enough, Tommy’s bike was at the bottom of the pile. Under the light of the moon we started tossing stuff aside, until Tommy finally wrestled his bike free. He pulled it upright.
“Hop on the fender,” he said.
But just as I went to swing my leg over, a shrill cry came from under the bike.
“Look!” Tommy said. He stooped to pick up a yellow ball of fluff. “It’s a kitten. I must’ve run over its tail.” The kitten cocked its head at him and mewed pathetically. “Aw…ain’t it cute?” he said.
Tommy started to tickle the kitten’s chin, but the dog went crazy barking, and we heard voices coming from the front yard. He dropped the kitten into his bike basket, then started off with me on the fender. It didn’t take but a couple of seconds to realize we weren’t going anywhere on his bicycle. The front tire was flat.
“Oh, man,” Tommy muttered, but he wasn’t talking about the tire. “It’s Goble’s mom.”
We tore out of the yard—not before she’d seen us, though. “Someone’s out back, Goble!” she hollered. “Let the dog loose.”
We must’ve cut through ten more yards before the yelling and barking finally faded away. By now I had the kitten, because the bike was bouncing around so much it’d almost flown out of the basket. We turned down a dark alley and followed it another block before venturing onto a sidewalk.
Tommy stopped under the streetlight, trying to catch his breath. “Looks like we ditched them,” he said.
I collapsed next to him. He reached down and took the kitten from me, cradling it like a baby, cooing in its face. “Aw, man,” he said. “I love this little thing. I’m keeping it.”
While Tommy cuddled the kitten, I started thinking about Sunday again, about finding Daddy. “You know,” I said, “we’ll have to leave first thing after church on Sunday. If we wait too late, we’ll miss them. Uncle Russell says they’re pulling out in the afternoon.” I’d already been over this with Tommy at least ten times, but he never seemed to pay that much attention.
“I hope it doesn’t have worms,” he said, touching noses with the kitten. “Worms can kill them, you know.”
“What’re you talking about? Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“Well, I’m going out there Sunday morning. Are you coming with me or not?”
He buried his face in the kitten’s soft fur. I’d never seen him act so crazy over an animal. “I ain’t sure. Maybe.”
“Maybe? That’s all you’ve got to say, after you promised me? Don’t you want to see our dads? Don’t you want them to come back and tell everyone the truth about the money?”
“Aw, come on. That’s stupid. You know they ain’t going to do that.”
His flat, lifeless voice drained the hope right out of me. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him how wrong he was. I wanted to tell him how my daddy would do anything in the world for me, even if his own dad wouldn’t. I couldn’t say it, though. I couldn’t say anything, because all of a sudden the crunch, crunch, crunch of footsteps froze my voice in my throat.
Then three shadowy figures slid out of the alley and surrounded us.
A hand reached out for Tommy’s kitten.
Chapter 23
Tommy jerked away from Goble, clutching the kitten to his chest. “Keep your—”
Goble shoved him. Tommy fell backward on top of his bike, losing his grip on the kitten. It flipped into the spokes of his wheel. He grabbed for it, but one of the Etchison twins beat him to it. The twin snatched the kitten by the tail, dangling it upside down and laughing.
“Stop that!” I lunged at him and dug my fingernails in his arm, trying to make him drop the kitten. The other twin pushed me away, making me fall on top of Tommy. He scrambled out from under me, rose to his knees, and glared up at Goble.
“You’d better leave that kitten alone.”
“Or what, sissy boy?” Goble stood over us, his face smeared with meanness. “Are you gonna cry about the itty-bitty kitty?”
I spat at his feet. “Ugly turd.”
“Shut up, Wisher, before we wring your stupid cat’s neck.” Goble kicked my leg. It felt like he’d crushed a bone, but I didn’t cry out. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
Tommy hopped up and faced him, his chest heaving. “What do you want? We ain’t done nothing to you.” He looked at the kitten, his eyes glistening with tears.
Goble snorted. “You shouldn’t have come messing around my house. I warned you not to. I want the bike back.”
Goble snapped his finger, and the Etchison twin tossed the kitten to him like it was a baseball. Goble squeezed the little thing, making it cry again. He shook it over Tommy’s head. Then, before I even saw it coming, Tommy socked Goble in the gut.
Goble clutched his stomach with his free hand. “You pun
k. You’re gonna pay for that. This cat ain’t never gonna live to—”
“Give me the cat.” A gruff voice from the street caused me to snap my head around. Daddy Joe stood behind me, looking taller than the streetlamp. He took three quick steps and grabbed Goble by the scruff of his neck. Goble’s mouth fell open, and without a word, he handed Daddy Joe the kitten. The Etchison twins backed away slowly, then swung around at the very same time and ran down the alley.
“What’s going on here? You threatening these kids?” Daddy Joe held the kitten in one hand and Goble in the other.
“They was snooping around my house. I heard they stole some money from the church. I was just checking to make sure they ain’t got nothing of mine,” Goble whimpered.
“Liar! You’re the thief.” I shoved Goble’s arm. “You took Tommy’s bike the other night. We were just going after it. If you don’t watch out, I’m going to—”
“I’ll talk to you in a minute, young lady,” Daddy Joe said in a stern voice. He lifted Goble straight up off his feet and gave him a good shake. “I ever hear of you picking on these two again or taking their bikes, you’re going to be one sorry fellow. You got that?”
Goble nodded, squirming like a worm while Daddy Joe held on to him.
“Now get out of here. I don’t want you anywhere near these kids again.”
I didn’t say anything the whole way home. Tommy did all the talking. You would’ve thought he’d beat the snot out of Goble the way he bragged and carried on. Daddy Joe listened and nodded, answering every once in a while with an “uh-huh.”
I walked a few feet behind them, sweating up a storm, wondering how it was that Daddy Joe had turned up in the middle of the night. I’d thought he was asleep when I left the house earlier, but now I suspected he’d been spying on me.
We were almost home when he spotted Carla’s Raggedy Andy doll on the sidewalk. He stooped to pick it up. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this,” he said. “Carla dropped it on the way home from the fireworks. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d venture out and track it down.”
Tracking Daddy Down Page 11