“Already?” Popcorn cried. He jumped from his seat and headed toward the front of the ballroom.
I could see Gwen gearing up to ask more questions, but there was no time left for me to project confidence.
“’Scuse us,” I said to table 17 as I ran to catch up with Popcorn.
As we hurried toward Tito’s table, we saw that he was already out of his seat and almost to the door beside the stage. Even if we started running, there was no way we could catch him in time.
Then Popcorn did something interesting. He closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and YELLED.
“TITO!!!!!”
Tito stopped and turned.
“TITO!! IT IS ME, PAUL ROBARDS!!!! I’M YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN!”
The room went silent. Everyone was looking at us. I saw Tito looking as well, but he was so far away that I couldn’t see his expression behind his mask. I knew I should holler something, too.
“I need your help!” I croaked. My words were barely loud enough to be heard by the next table.
Then two security guys materialized right in front of us. I couldn’t see Tito anymore. All I could see were the uniforms of these two tall guys trying to keep us away from Tito, right when we needed him. I felt that buzzing in my bones, and a bunch of the feelings I had pushed way, way down came roaring up and out of my body in a rush of air and loud noise.
“I NEED YOUR HELP!” I yelled this time.
“We are going to escort you boys to the exit,” the taller of the two security guards said in a deep, serious voice. Everyone stared as the security guys led us by the arm past table 17, past the table where we’d gotten our place cards, toward the front door. I craned my neck around to see if Tito was still standing there watching us, but he was gone.
21
GROUNDED
“I hope you have a ride home,” my security guy said to us as he pulled us through the lobby, “because I’m not going to be able to let you back in the hotel.”
We were supposed to be riding home with Louisa in the Fluff Cream van, but she wasn’t going to be able to leave until the end of the gala. And I didn’t want to tell that to the security guy, because then he might figure out that Louisa had snuck us into the gala in the first place.
As soon as we were through the door, I saw Brain sitting on her bench.
“Brain!” I called.
She turned toward us when she heard her name. I watched her face as she took in the fact that Popcorn and I were being escorted out of the hotel by security guys. Brain, like I’ve said, is practically a genius, so I knew she’d figure out that things hadn’t gone exactly well at the gala. She looked disappointed for a moment, but then, strangely, she started smiling. She casually dropped the Spy Buddy walkie-talkie into the bushes and walked over to us, projecting confidence, like Tito would.
“Oh, kind sirs,” she said to the security men, “you have found my brothers! You see, they disappeared inside the hotel, and I feared they might have wandered into the wrong room. A ballroom, perhaps. Our father will be along to pick us up soon. Thank you, gentlemen.” She nodded politely. “Now, don’t let my silly family ruin your evening. I’ll take it from here.”
My security guy looked at Popcorn’s security guy. Popcorn’s security guy shrugged. I wondered for a moment if the security guys would actually leave us with Brain and go back inside the hotel.
They would not.
“Sorry, uh, ma’am,” my security officer said to Brain. “We can’t release them to you.” He looked at Popcorn’s security guy again. “We should only release them to a parent. I don’t really wanna be responsible for losin’ a couple of kids.”
“I agree,” said the short security guy. “Maybe we should let the police handle it.”
“No!” Brain cried. Then she added, more calmly, “That won’t be necessary, sirs. Our father will be along in a few minutes, after all. Let me just, uh, call him again to make sure he’s on his way.” Brain pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed a number. “Hello,” she said. “It’s Brianna. You know, your daughter? I just wanted to make sure you were still on your way to pick us up at the Empire Hotel. On Hedgeworth Avenue. We are by the front entrance with the wonderful security professionals who are keeping us safe until you arrive, Dad.”
I’m not the genius, but I knew there was no way it was Brain’s dad who was picking us up. He was on a business trip to Singapore, and I’m pretty sure you can’t get to Hedgeworth Avenue from Singapore in less than a day.
“Our dad will be here in a few minutes,” Brain told the security guy, smiling with her whole face. When she turned to Popcorn and me, though, her expression looked less like a smile and more like panic.
Just then, a couple of news reporters who had been at the gala came out to talk to us about what had happened inside. But the security guys said that the reporters couldn’t talk to us without our parents present.
One of the reporters stuck a microphone in Popcorn’s face anyway. “Are you really Tito the Bonecrusher’s number one fan? Tell us more about that.”
“These kids aren’t making any statements to any newspapers!” I heard a voice shout at the reporters. “You should be ashamed of yourselves, trying to interview minors without their parents’ consent. No wonder journalism is in the toilet these days.”
“Granny Janet?” I said. At first I couldn’t see her around my security guard, but then there was a flash of green and there she was, standing in front of me and looking even meaner than usual.
“Granny Janet, I—”
She held her hand up before I could say anything else. “Oliver, I don’t even want to know why you and your friends are here,” she said, “and we are certainly not going to talk about it in front of these so-called reporters.”
“Are these children with you, ma’am?” my security guy asked Granny Janet.
“They most certainly are not,” she said in a huff. Then she turned to me. “Looks like you got yourself into quite a jam,” she said. “Did you call your parents?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brain piped up before I could answer. “I think that’s, uh, Dad now.” She pointed to the headlights of a car heading toward us.
“Good,” Granny Janet said. “Then I’m going to finish my dessert.” She turned around and went back into the Empire Hotel.
The headlights got brighter until the car was in front of the hotel, where I could see it was a silver Honda with a dent in the side mirror. Carl’s car.
“Brain!” I should have played it cool in front of the security guys, but suddenly this whole situation felt less like a Tito movie and more like a mistake.
“We had to call a parent, Oliver!” Brain cried. “I didn’t know who else to call!” I think it was sinking into Brain’s head that there was no way to save our operation. We wouldn’t get to step three.
“We’re going to be grounded,” Popcorn said weakly.
Grounded was better than jail. My dad was in jail, and he would have to stay there. Because I hadn’t figured out how to help him. Three weeks ago on the couch, when Mom was giving me the bad news, I should’ve just said, Oh well, that’s disappointing, and spent the next couple of weeks just watching TV and eating junk food at Brain’s house. Then I wouldn’t have wasted so much time on a stupid plan that didn’t work at all.
I felt the bone-buzzing again, this time around my eyes.
Carl got out of the car and walked over to us. He looked like he had been working in his home office when Brain had called, because he was wearing his usual working outfit: the old T-shirt that had a picture of a guy mowing the lawn on it, and gray sweatpants. He obviously had gotten right in the car when Brain had called, without taking time to comb his hair.
Carl may be mostly a dork, but I had to give him credit—he played it cool in front of the security guys.
“Are you responsible for these kids?” my security guy asked Carl.
“Yes,” Carl said.
“And you purchased the tickets these two boys use
d to enter the Number One Fan Foundation Gala tonight?” Popcorn’s security guy asked.
This felt like a trick question. If Carl said, Yes, I bought their tickets, he might be responsible for all the trouble we’d caused. But if he said No, I don’t think they had tickets, then we might be in even bigger trouble with the security guys.
But Carl did something much smarter than just answering yes or no. He managed to change the subject!
That old Carl! “No,” he said. “I didn’t purchase their tickets. They must have bought them with their own money. They must have saved and saved for them. Did you gentlemen ever save and save for something when you were younger?”
“I saved up once to buy a baseball glove and bat,” Popcorn’s security guy said with a faraway look on his face. “I mowed lawns.”
Carl knew better than to stick around while the security guy was thinking about his baseball glove. He hustled us into the car.
“Thanks, Mr. Wyatt,” Brain said once we were squeezed into the back seat, with Popcorn in the middle per usual. “That was really gallant of you.”
Carl didn’t answer Brain. He was completely silent. It was the first inkling I had that maybe he was actually kind of mad.
“I’m going to take your friends home,” Carl said, turning to me, “and then you and I are going to have a conversation.”
The look on Carl’s face told me it was not going to be a casual conversation. It was not going to start with a question like Hey, is the inside of the ballroom at the Empire Hotel as amazing as everyone says? I had a suspicion that the conversation would involve my mom, too, and then probably some yelling.
When we got to Popcorn’s house, Popcorn jumped out of the car, mumbled “Thanks for the ride,” and bolted for his front door.
But Carl wasn’t going to let him off that easy. He turned off the engine. “Let’s go in,” he said to Brain and me. “I’m going to need you to explain your evening to your friend’s father.”
Popcorn looked kind of nervous when we came into his house right after him. He was standing in his living room. Mr. Robards was sitting on the couch holding an old-looking book and seeming confused. I guess he was surprised to see that Popcorn was home early from his sleepover at my house.
“Uh, Dad, you remember Brain and Oliver,” Popcorn said, gesturing at us. “And this is, uh, Oliver’s stepdad,” he said.
Carl introduced himself to F. T. Robards, who still looked confused.
“Why don’t you tell your dad where you were tonight?” Carl said to Popcorn.
Popcorn took a deep breath. He squinched up his eyes. “I WAS AT THE NUMBER ONE FAN FOUNDATION GALA AT THE EMPIRE HOTEL.”
I was getting used to this louder version of Popcorn, but his dad looked taken aback.
“They were trying to meet Tito the Bonecrusher,” Carl explained. “So they snuck into an event he was attending.”
Mr. Robards flushed. “And did you meet him?” he asked Popcorn.
“Not really,” Popcorn replied. “I told him who I was. But then they made us leave.” Popcorn flopped down on his couch like someone had pushed him.
“We should … go?” Brain said.
Carl and I agreed.
* * *
We had just dropped Brain off when Carl got a phone call. I stayed with him in the car, where I could see Brain talking to her mom at the front door.
“He’s with me,” I heard Carl say. Then there was a pause. “I know,” Carl said. “I’m sorry. We’re at the Gregorys’ house now.” I wondered if Carl was in trouble, too. It sounded like maybe he had left home without exactly telling Mom that he was going to pick me up at the Empire Hotel.
Carl ended the call and turned to me. “That was your mother,” he said. “She would like for you and me to come home immediately. But first, I think we should make sure Brain’s mother knows where she was tonight.”
My heart started beating pretty fast.
We went into the Gregorys’ living room. By then, Brain had told her mom where we were, but it turned out Brain wasn’t going to get into any trouble at all. Her mom said that it would be too upsetting for Brain’s dad to find out that she had gone to an event sponsored by Designer Mart, even if all she’d done was sit outside on a bench.
Brain looked at me. We both knew the conversation with her mom had been way easier than the conversation with mine would be.
“See you Monday,” I told her.
* * *
When we got back to our house, Mom was sitting on the couch with Louisa. Louisa’s hair was messed up, maybe from being in the Mr. Jiggly Fluff costume, and she looked like she might have been crying. Could Louisa have actually been worried about me when she couldn’t find me after the gala? That old Louisa! Maybe she was a softy after all. My big sister. I walked over with my arms outstretched to give her a hug.
When I got close enough to look at her face, though, she didn’t actually have that big-sister-reunion look that I had been hoping for. She looked pretty mad. And her fist was clenched like she was ready to punch me.
“Don’t you DARE come near me!” she yelled. “What is wrong with you? First I heard that you got taken out of the gala by security, then I heard that you drove off with some strange man you said was your dad, and then I got home and you weren’t here. YOU SHOULD HAVE CALLED ME!” She stood and stomped up the stairs.
I will never, ever understand Louisa.
“Have a seat, Oliver,” Mom said in a calm, even voice. “You too, Carl.”
“Carl is innocent!” I cried. “Don’t divorce him! It was all my fault!”
Mom looked at me strangely. “Oliver,” she said, “I’m not going to divorce Carl because he picked you up from a hotel without telling me.”
“Oh,” I said. “Okay.” I exhaled. “I’m glad you’re not that mad.”
“Wrong,” Mom said. “I’m extremely mad. And worried. And confused. In fact…” Her face was looking less calm. “I need a minute,” she said. “Go to your room.”
I trudged up the stairs, but instead of going to my room, I walked into Louisa’s. For once, her door was open. She was on her bed, just sitting there. She wasn’t even messing with her phone. I walked toward her, expecting her to roar Get out! before I reached the bed. She didn’t, so I sat down.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call to tell you what happened to us,” I said.
She didn’t even yell. She just talked in a normal voice. “Why did you care about meeting Tito so much?” she asked. “I mean, I know you really like him. I do, too. Or I used to, anyway.”
“Because…” I started to feel hot, like I was going to cry. I spoke fast to push the feeling down. “Because he could tell me how to help Dad. He’s the one person who could tell me how to get him out of the correctional center in Florida.” I swallowed. “And then Dad could be here for your graduation. As a surprise.”
It was over. I had spent three weeks so focused on one thing, to never quit trying, and now it was over. And when I thought about that, it made it harder for me to push the feelings down inside myself than it had been to push my clothes and things down in the hamper. The thing I had forgotten about a hamper is that eventually you can’t stuff anything else down inside of it. Especially something as big as the disappointment of not being able to help your own dad.
I started to boo-hoo like a real baby, which was pretty embarrassing, so I buried my face in Louisa’s pillow.
* * *
A few minutes later, I felt Louisa’s bed sink down a little bit as someone else sat on it. I knew it was Mom. She waited for me to get myself together, but as soon as I lifted my head out of the pillow, she started asking questions.
“Okay,” she said. “I need you to explain to me. What on earth were you doing at the Empire Hotel?”
I looked at Louisa’s bedspread and started bunching some of the fabric between my fingers. “Um,” I started, “trying to meet Tito the Bonecrusher.”
There was a long pause.
“You mean to t
ell me,” Mom said, “that the whole reason for this awful night is that you were trying to see a cuss-word celebrity?”
Something in the way she said it got to me. Like she really thought I had done it just to meet a famous person.
Oh, man. The feelings were all there. I let the angry ones out first. “I didn’t have a choice!”
“Didn’t have a choice?” Apparently, Mom’s angry feelings were all there, too. “You didn’t have a choice but to lie, break rules, trick people, and put yourself in danger?”
“IT’S NOT THAT BIG A DEAL!” I yelled.
I didn’t mean for the words to come out as loudly as they did, but both Mom and Louisa flinched a little bit. So I took it down a few notches and tried to speak in a calmer voice. “It’s not like anyone got hurt. Nothing bad happened.”
Mom did not take it down any notches. She was crying, her face red. “You sound like your father,” she said. “I don’t know what to do with you.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, searching her face for something that would explain why she said the words your father almost bitterly. But she wasn’t looking at me. It was like she wasn’t even talking to me, even though she was talking about me.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” she said. “But you know what I meant.”
“I really don’t,” I told her.
“She means that you did the same thing Dad did,” Louisa said. “Broke rules and said you didn’t have any choice.”
“What rule did Dad break?” Was this a story from when they were married?
“The LAW,” Louisa said. “He broke the law for Walker Stewart.”
The room got fuzzy. “What?” I said. “I thought Dad was innocent and his boss just took advantage of him!”
Mom and Louisa looked at each other.
“He wasn’t completely innocent,” Mom said in this really soft voice, like I was a baby animal she didn’t want to frighten. “He knew some of the things he was being asked to do weren’t right. But he went along with it so that he wouldn’t lose his job.”
Tito the Bonecrusher Page 12