The Dream Club #1 - Corpse

by Nancy Fornataro

CHAPTER 3

   

   

  My Mom is ordinarily pretty calm and easy-going, all the kids really like her. So, that day, I was amazed to see her running fast towards us as we stood in the field, her red hair streaming behind her.

  "Eddie!" she screamed.

  I looked at Friendly Cop who's name I found out was Bill Wallace. "That's my mom," I said to him.

  She reached us and hugged me to her. "What happened?" she asked anxiously, looking at Friendly Cop.

  He took off his hat. "Ma'am, I'm officer Bill Wallace and this is Detective Morgan." He paused and looked at me.

  "Your son and his friends may have witnessed a murder this afternoon."

  "A murder? Oh, my God." She crouched down and hugged me tight. Then came the Waterworks. I don't think I've ever heard Mom cry that loud. This was getting embarrassing.

     "Uh, Mom, it's okay, really."

   Friendly Cop handed her a handkerchief, and she stood up again. The Waterworks stopped, and I was glad.

   He said, "The kids seem to be taking it pretty well. Your son has been a great help to us. However, we may need to take him down to the police station."

   Huh? No one told me that.

   My Mom blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

  "Apparently," he continued, "your son saw the shooter and can give us a good description of the man and his car."

  She looked at me proudly. "I'll tell you officer---"

  "Bill," he interrupted.

  Yes, this man had Dad possibilities all right.

  She smiled at him. "I'll tell you Bill, trouble follows this boy."

  Then, the Waterworks started again. Oh, brother.

  We all headed back to our house, with the neighbors gawking at us, and asking each other what Eddie had done now. Mikey and Mary were still on the porch, and I groaned as I saw their Mom running towards our house. To say this woman was hysterical was an understatement. If Mikey so much as broke a toenail, this woman had fits.

  "Sharon," she shrieked, "what happened?"

  When my Mom told her, she freaked out. She screamed, she cried, she hugged Mikey and Mary until their eyes almost popped out of their heads, she pointed to the field, yelling, "My BABIES!"

  Finally, blessedly, she collapsed on the porch steps in exhaustion. Whew! It had worn us all out just watching her.

  Mikey and Mary panted, trying to get air back in their little squashed bodies, and Cotton barked at anything that moved.

  And when Friendly Cop, Bill, told Mikey's Mom that Mikey and Mary would have to come down to the police station with us, she almost came unglued. Then, she headed for home to lie down.

  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Bill said, "Well, kids, are you ready for a ride in a police car?"

  Silly question. My Mom arranged for Mrs. Katz to watch Cotton, while we ran over to the patrol car, and Mary hopped up and down excitedly. My Mom came too, and sat in front with Bill. I guess Bored Cop went back to the station with someone else.

  We cruised along in the back seat, trying to look cool. Mary was still bouncing. A little way away from our house, I spotted Stinky ambling along the sidewalk. His mouth dropped open when he spotted us.

  "Hey, Stinky," I yelled out the window.

  He frowned at the nickname. "What'd you do NOW, jerk?" he shot back at me. But he was grinning as he said it, so I knew he was kidding.

  We turned in the seat and watched him disappear from view.

  "He might be good for The Club," said Mikey. I had to agree.

  We arrived at the police station a few minutes later. I had never been inside a police station before, although my Mom said (lots of times) that I'd end up there if I didn't behave. Okay, I was ready to behave now.

  Bill showed us some seats in the hallway, and we sat down. Mary pulled at her pigtail, Mikey bit his nails, I tapped on the chair, and my Mom shuffled around in her purse. Pull, pull, chomp, chomp, tap, tap, shuffle, shuffle.

  I looked around, trying to remember the details of this place. Policemen walked in and out, their steps echoing loudly in the hallways. A fat woman sat writing something at a desk. Her humming reminded me of a giant bumblebee. Pull, chomp, tap, shuffle, hum.

  As a matter of fact, she even looked like a giant bumblebee. She had on a gold blouse and black pants. Hum, hum, hum.

  "Edward, don't stare. It's rude."

  Mom looked better now, her eyes weren't so puffy, and she had combed her long hair. She had her compact out and was powdering her nose. I thought my Mom was really pretty, and probably other people did too because I saw some of the officers checking her out.

  I sniffed. They'd have to wait in line. Bill was first.

  Detective Morgan came towards us. I wonder if he and the bumblebee were married. What then, little bumblebee children? Ooops, I was staring at her again.

  "Mrs. McCoy, kids, you want to follow me?"

  Not really, bud. I still didn't like this guy.

  We entered a room with a long table, where there was a tape recorder, some yellow pads, and a bunch of chairs.

  "Please be seated," he said.

  Bill came in just then and sat by my Mom. YES!

  Detective Morgan sat across the table from me and turned on the tape recorder. "Now, I need to ask some questions. But first, I need to ask if you understand you are being tape recorded."

  Mikey and I looked at each other. No brains, no headaches. This guy was really dumb.

  "Yes, sir. I see it there on the counter, and you just turned it on," I told him.

  "Okay, Eddie, you're first. You are Edward McCoy, is that correct?"

  Mikey and I looked at each other again. Oh, brother.

  "The last time I checked I was, yes sir."

  My Mom glared at me. "Edward! Answer the questions and don't be smart."

  "Sorry, Mom." I really was thinking that I was a lot smarter than this guy.

  Morgan looked smug. Jerk.

  "Okay, Eddie," he continued, "why don't you tell us what you saw today?"

  An officer came in with some sodas for us and coffee for my Mom.

  Flip, flip, flip, slurp, slurp, slurp.

  I told him, to the best of my ability, what had happened out there. I left out the part about the Dream Club, and just told them we went for a picnic. My Mom started her Waterworks again, and Bill handed her a handkerchief. Where did he get all of those handkerchiefs anyway?

  Morgan leaned towards me, and said, "Do you think you can identify the man in the red jacket?"

  This guy could never have little bumblebee children. His breath was too bad. Whew. Smelled like he ate a Cotton poop or something. I leaned back in my chair, trying to escape it.

  "Sure," I said.

  He was getting excited now, and leaned even further towards me. I tipped back in my chair, and noticed Bill trying not to laugh.

  "And the truck the man drove off in," he said in a loud voice, "do you remember the make or the license plate number?"

  Man, I needed some fresh air. Bill opened a window, as if he could read my mind, and sat down smiling.

  "Sure," I gasped, "it was an El Camino, black, with the license number...uh," I searched my memory. I had this photographic memory. It came in handy in school and for phone numbers and stuff like that.

  Morgan leaned even further towards me, "Try to remember,

  It was the 'try' that got me. A long gust of poop-breath, so I leaned even further back, and shouted, "1PDE621," before my chair tipped over backwards.

  My Mom looked at Bill, who was laughing now. "See what I mean?" she said.

  After dusting myself off, I sat again, my chair pulled a little further from Morgan. He still looked excited, and told Bill, "He can identify the perp and even saw the license plate number of the truck."

  Mikey and I looked at each other, pursed our lips, and tried the word, rolled it around on our tongues.

  "Puuuurp," I said, my lips looking like I was going to kiss someone.

  "Puuuurp," said Mik
ey.

  "Puuuurp," copied Mary.

  We looked like monkeys in the zoo. My Mom glared at me.

  "Edward, stop it!" Our faces went back to normal and the kissing-fest was over.

  Morgan interviewed Mikey and Mary, then left and came back with some mug shot books.

  I'll have to say, these guys in the books were some strange-looking dudes. One of them looked like a cretin, because his forehead was really big. I kept staring at him.

  "Is that the guy?" Morgan asked excitedly.

  "You mean the purp?" I asked innocently. This started us on another kissing-fest, purping this and purping that until my Mom said, "Edward!"

  "Sorry, Mom. No, sir, that's not the...one."

  "Keep looking, kid," he said.

  Then, after a bit, I spotted the guy. "Yeah, this is the...one, sir."

  He looked at the picture, then back at Bill. "Grady Corona," he said. Bill nodded, and looked worried.

  "He's part of an organized crime ring," Bill said to my Mom. "We've been trying to break it for a long time now. We feel they're responsible for a number of these type murders in Denver. They may be a branch of the Mafia."

  Now, my Mom looked worried, Bill looked worried, and Morgan was ecstatic.