“Thanks, Jake! I had fun tonight.” Cody shut the door and sighed. He knew Jake was right, and he appreciated the advice, but he was still confused. How could he figure out what Hayden’s motive was? Even if he knew, what good would it do?
He could really solve his problem with Hayden if a monster’s slimy claw came out of the sky, grabbed Hayden by his fat head, and carried him off to another planet.
He let himself in, walked to the sofa, and flopped on it, facedown, quickly rubbing away a couple of tears that had escaped. He couldn’t let go and cry.
He sat up, swung his feet to the floor, and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Hey, Mom,” he said. “Wait till I tell you about the game. I got to pinch-hit and made it all the way to first base.”
Mrs. Carter came out of the kitchen and joined Cody on the sofa. She put an arm around his shoulders and hugged him to her. “I’m glad you had a good time,” she said. “I want to hear all about the game. But first, let me tell you before I forget: Grandma has a doctor’s appointment and some tests late tomorrow afternoon, so when you get out of school, we won’t be home. Instead of coming here, go over to Hayden’s house. Aunt Rosalie said Alma would bake you something good for a snack so you and Hayden can do homework together.”
Cody stiffened. “Mom, I don’t have to go to Hayden’s! I’m thirteen! I’m old enough to stay here by myself!”
“I know,” she answered. “Rosalie is trying now to be helpful and Grandma was delighted with her offer. Go along with the plans, please, Cody. It will make things so much easier for all of us.”
Cody nodded agreement, although it was the last thing in the world he wanted to do. “Okay,” he said.
“Thanks, honey,” Mrs. Carter said, and squeezed his shoulder. “Now, tell me about the ball game.”
Cody described the park and the baseball diamond and the way Jake had slammed the ball out of the field, but he had a scared feeling in the pit of his stomach. If he wasn’t careful, having a snack with a snake like Hayden could end up with Cody himself being the snack.
CHAPTER SEVEN
On Wednesday Cody did as Jake had cautioned. He made sure that while he was at school, he was never alone. Now and then he thought he saw some of the kids watching him with suspicion, but he pretended not to notice.
Lunchtime was the hardest. He bought the cafeteria lunch and balanced a tray containing dishes of something brown, something yellow, and something green, not paying much attention to what they were. Stopping by a table with two empty places, he began to put down his tray.
“Okay if I sit here?” he asked Emily, who sat across from Jennifer.
Emily looked up, flipping the end of her long ponytail back from her shoulder. “Those seats are saved,” she said.
“No, they’re …,” Jennifer began in surprise, but she stopped short as she glanced up, over her shoulder, at Cody. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry. I forgot. They’re saved.”
Cody felt his face turn red with embarrassment. Without a word he walked to the far end of the cafeteria, away from Emily’s loud whispers.
Plopping down his tray at the end of one of the tables, Cody kept his eyes on his food and began to eat.
A few minutes later Hayden slid onto the bench opposite him. Brad sat next to Cody, elbowing him to the end of their bench, and Eddie crowded in beside Brad.
“Made any more interesting phone calls lately?” Hayden asked Cody in a voice loud enough so that the kids around them could hear.
Cody put down his fork. With his tongue, he pried away the gluey macaroni and cheese that was stuck to the back of his front teeth, then said, “You know I didn’t make that call.”
Hayden leaned close, and Brad did, too. Eddie just grinned. “What call?” Hayden asked, his eyes wide with faked innocence.
“You’re my cousin, you know. We have the same grandmother. Why don’t you just leave me alone?” Cody asked.
“That’s no fun,” Hayden said, really annoyed.
Cody polished off the milk that was left in his carton. “Let’s talk about something else,” he said.
“Like what? Like your Hamlet project? You couldn’t find anyone to work with, could you?”
“It doesn’t make any difference.”
“Sure it does.” Hayden grinned and added, “It does make a difference. So we’re cousins, and I have to look out for you. I even have to babysit you this afternoon while your mama’s not home.”
Cody heard a snicker behind him. He didn’t know who was enjoying Hayden’s big mouth. He said suddenly, “I’d better confess about making a phone call.”
The kids seated nearby became silent. Cody went on in a louder voice, “The call I made was to Channel Two’s news hotline to tell them Houston has a new bus. It’s called the Hayden. It used to run on gas from eating too many burritos, but it was polluting the city, so now it runs on hot air. The news people told me I had the wrong channel. Anything that concerns Hayden belongs on Animal Planet.”
A couple of people laughed. Eddie tried to smother a giggle as Hayden scowled.
“Let’s get out of here,” Hayden snapped. He got up from the table. “C’mon guys.”
Brad and Eddie did as he ordered, and Brad managed to give Cody a shove, knocking him off the end of the bench.
Cody picked himself up from the floor. He took his tray to the clean-up window at the other end of the cafeteria and left. He wished he could escape the looks and whispers and sit quietly in the sheltered stairway outside the building, but he couldn’t. He realized that it was more important than ever that he stay in sight of the kids in the school, as Jake had told him to do.
Cody sat in the library, in full view of anybody in the hall passing the floor-to-ceiling glass walls, and opened a book. He pretended to read but started to make up jokes about Hayden.
He’s so stupid that he thought he had to study to pass a blood test.
He’s such a jerk, when he heard people talking about the terrible Midwest tornadoes, he thought they meant a football team.
Someone pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. The person chuckled and said, “I heard what you told your cousin. That was pretty good.”
Cody turned in surprise to see a guy he knew only as Bobby, who usually needed a haircut and who mostly kept to himself. “I also heard that you made a phone call yesterday and set off a bomb scare,” Bobby said.
“I didn’t!”
Bobby shrugged. “They think you did. Wish I’d been here to see all the excitement. Police came and everything. Right?” He gave a loud sniff and rubbed his dripping nose with the back of one hand.
Cody glared at Bobby. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“How come?”
“Because I don’t like being blamed for something I didn’t do.”
Bobby grinned.
Angry now, Cody snapped, “You said you weren’t here. Why weren’t you?”
“Bad cold.” Bobby wiped his nose on his hand again.
“Well, then, you could have made the call easier than me,” Cody said.
Bobby didn’t answer. He just kept smiling.
Cody stood, sweeping up his books. There was no way he was going to let Bobby taunt him. Fortunately, the bell rang, and Cody headed for his next class.
Eagerly, he kept looking for Jake to appear. He’d be visiting the school each day, and Cody was counting on seeing his friendly smile.
It wasn’t until Cody was passing Ms. Jackson’s room later, on his way to P.E., that he heard Jake’s deep laugh. Cody stopped, backed up two steps, and glanced through the open doorway. He saw Jake leaning against Ms. Jackson’s desk, apparently sharing a joke with her, because both of them were smiling.
Quickly, before either of them could notice him, Cody hurried on toward the gym. Why’d Jake go to see her? Cody thought resentfully. Ms. Jackson was nice enough, he supposed, but she was a teacher. He felt as if his friend had gone over to the enemy. He’d expected Jake to come talk to him.
T
here was no sign of Hayden and his buddies as Cody reluctantly trudged home after school. He hesitated on the sidewalk between his grandmother’s house and the Nortons’. His mother had made it clear that he was expected there, and he didn’t have a choice. His mother just didn’t understand about Hayden.
For that matter, Cody didn’t understand Hayden. Jake had said that bullies had a reason for being bullies. He had also said that perps had a reason for being perps. What reason did Hayden have for being so mean and trying to get all the kids to think that Cody had made that phone call? What was Hayden’s problem? As Jake would ask, what was his motive?
The front door to Hayden’s house opened, and Rosalie Norton stepped out on the small porch. “There you are, Cody,” she said. “Hayden has been home for at least fifteen minutes. I was beginning to worry about you.”
As Cody walked toward her, she kept talking. “I’ve got a committee meeting to attend in just half an hour, and it’s not far—the Junior League building—but I want to make sure that you’re settled at the dining room table with your homework before I leave. Alma’s been baking some Mexican wedding cookies. They’re buttery and full of chopped pecans, rolled in powdered sugar as soon as they’re baked. You’ll like them; Hayden does.”
As they walked into the dining room, Hayden looked up from where he was seated, his books in front of him, and smirked at Cody.
Cody put his books on the table, as far away from Hayden as he could get, pulled out one of the carved mahogany chairs, and sat down.
“You better get started on your Hamlet project,” Hayden said. “It’s due in two days.”
Cody shrugged. “Is yours done already? It only has to be two pages. That won’t take long.”
“It will if you don’t have any ideas. I bet you haven’t thought of an idea yet.”
Cody frowned at Hayden. “I do have an idea,” he said, and opened his notebook.
“Bet you don’t.”
“Now, Hayden,” Mrs. Norton said. “Cody’s a fine student and highly responsible about getting his homework done on time. You could use him as an example.”
Cody tried to ignore Hayden’s scowl and studied the first suggestion on Ms. Jackson’s list, which he had copied from the board. His mom had said to get along with Hayden. Okay. He’d try. He said to Hayden, “I’m writing about the last scene, in which Hamlet finally does what his father’s ghost asked him to do and avenges his father’s murder.”
Alma came to the door of the dining room and greeted Cody, then said to Mrs. Norton, “My powdered sugar is gone. I’ve looked everywhere for it, and I can’t find it.”
“Maybe we’re out of it,” Mrs. Norton said.
“No. We have a new bag—the large, two-pound size. It was on the list with my last shopping order. I remember unpacking the grocery sacks as soon as they were delivered. I put the powdered sugar away myself on the top shelf of the pantry, where I always keep it.”
“Oh, dear. I’m sorry but I haven’t got time to help you look for it now,” Mrs. Norton said. “Bye, boys.” She followed Alma into the kitchen, and soon Cody heard the back door shut and his aunt’s car move down the driveway.
He wished his aunt had stayed home. At least Alma was here. Hayden wouldn’t try something in front of Alma. Cody knew his best defense against Hayden was to stay right where he was, where Alma could see and hear him. He’d work on his Hamlet project, now that he’d decided what it was going to be.
But he couldn’t concentrate. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Bobby had said.
Bobby had admitted that he hadn’t been at school the day before. That meant he would have been free to make the call from the pay phone. He seemed to think it was funny that Hayden, Brad, and Eddie had tried to make everybody blame Cody. He wouldn’t think that was funny unless he knew how wrong it was. Had Bobby made that call? It hadn’t occurred to Cody until this second that it could have been someone who was not in school that day.
There was a knock at the back door, and Cody could hear Alma talking to someone. In a few minutes she came into the dining room and said, “Hayden, Brad and Eddie are here to see you.”
Hayden said to Alma, “Tell them to wait for me in the clubhouse. I’m almost through with this chapter.” But he didn’t look at Alma. He stared at Cody.
Alma left, and Hayden said to Cody, “You stay out. Understand?” and he walked out.
Cody didn’t answer. He just stared back. He didn’t want to go with them into their dumb old clubhouse.
He heard Alma say in the kitchen, “Hayden, did you bring down your pants with the torn pocket, like I asked you to?”
“I forgot,” Hayden said.
“Then if you’d please run upstairs and get them for me, I’d—”
“Sorry,” he called, and the back door banged shut.
Alma’s heels clicked across the floor as she walked through the kitchen and into the dining room, muttering under her breath. But she stopped as she glanced at Cody.
“Cody,” she said, “I’ve got to keep an eye on the cookies I’ve got in the oven. Would you mind running upstairs to Hayden’s bedroom? It’s the first room on the right. There’s a pair of those khaki pants you boys wear to school. You’ll probably find them on the floor or thrown over a chair. They’ve got a tear in the right pocket. Would you get them for me, please?”
The buzzer on the oven timer went off, and she hurried back into the kitchen without waiting for his answer.
Cody got up slowly. There was no telling what horrible thing Hayden would think of to do if he found Cody in his room. But Alma had asked him to go up there, and he couldn’t refuse. Hayden was out in his clubhouse and wouldn’t be likely to come back for a while.
Cody made his way to the front staircase and climbed the stairs. He opened the door of Hayden’s room and walked inside.
He had expected Hayden’s room to be messy, but it wasn’t. He’d forgotten that Aunt Rosalie and Alma would pick up after Hayden. The bed was neatly made, and although there were piles of books, papers, and CDs on the chest of drawers and desk, they’d been pushed into orderly rows. Even the little red fish on the computer’s screen saver swam in orderly lines.
There was no sign of the torn pants on the chair or floor.
Cody opened the door of the closet. There on the floor were the pants, dumped onto a pile with a couple of Hayden’s T-shirts. Cody bent down and picked up the pants, ready to search for a torn pocket. But his shoe dislodged a brown paper grocery bag that was under the pile of dirty clothing.
Cody reached down to return the bag to the spot where it had been, but its contents puzzled him. The bag felt firm but soft and pliable under his fingers.
Curious about what might be in the paper bag, he opened it. Inside, he found a large plastic two-pound sack of powdered sugar.
It must be the sugar Alma had said was missing from the kitchen. Why would it be hidden on the floor of Hayden’s closet? Powdered sugar? It made no sense.
Suddenly Cody heard footsteps outside the door and Eddie’s voice asking, “You’ve got it up here?”
Dropping the pants and T-shirts back on top of the paper bag, Cody dove into Hayden’s closet and shut the door. He squirmed as far back behind the clothing as he could go, desperately hoping he was well hidden.
He heard Hayden answer right outside the closet door. “I couldn’t sneak it out to the clubhouse. This seemed like the best place to hide it at the moment.”
As the closet door opened, Cody’s heart banged so loudly he was afraid Hayden would be able to hear it. He closed his eyes.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cody heard the rustle of paper as the bag was picked up. The door closed with a snap, and he leaned back against the wall, weak and shaken.
He heard Eddie say, “This ought to do it. They’ll think it’s him.”
“It was lucky for us he disappeared during lunch period. That made it easy,” Brad said. He giggled and added, “We better make sure he’s still in the dining room.�
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“Where else would he be?” said Eddie. “We can’t go through there and take the chance that Alma will see us. We’ll go out through the front door, the way we came in.”
Cody was surprised to hear Hayden say, “I don’t know about this, guys. I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Don’t worry so much, Hayden,” Eddie responded. “It’s a great idea!”
As the voices moved farther away, Cody heard Hayden ask, “Are you sure you know how to make it all work?”
“Positive, I got the—”
The bedroom door shut, and the room was silent.
Cody waited a moment, making sure they had gone, before he climbed out from behind the clothing. He was breathing hard and his palms were wet. He had to lean against the wall and wait for his heart to slow down and his legs to stop wobbling before he could pick up Hayden’s pants and go downstairs.
Alma met him in the dining room. “I was coming to look for you,” she said. “What took you so long?”
“I—I was trying to find the pants,” Cody said as he held them out to her. “They were on the floor of the closet.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking the pants from him. “I’ll bring you some cookies as soon as they’ve cooled. I sprinkled a little granulated sugar on them. They’re not the same as when they’re rolled in powdered sugar, but they still taste good.”
As though she had done it a thousand times, Alma quickly turned the pants’ pockets inside out and removed two quarters, a pack of chewing gum, and a scrap of paper. She glanced at the paper and tossed it, with the gum and coins, on the table.
The paper lay in front of Cody, faceup. He couldn’t help seeing that the only thing written on it was a phone number—starting with the local area code, 713, followed by 555. The last four numbers—4321, like a countdown—were odd enough to remember.
Cody smiled at Alma and forced himself to go back to the table and face the list of topics. What could he say about Hamlet’s decision to avenge his father?
Laugh Till You Cry Page 5