“Shhh,” she said. “Shh. It’s all right. It’s gonna be all right.”
But I wasn’t so sure it would.
I wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out that day. Or maybe vanish into the woods and never come back. I thought I was being nice when I picked a handful of flowers from Miss Shirley’s garden and made a bouquet for Mama, but the minute she’d seen them her face had turned red and she’d started scolding me.
“Those are Miss Shirley’s flowers,” she’d said. “You can’t just go picking them. She works hard on those. You have to go apologize. Now.”
The boys were outside when I headed up the driveway. Kevin — he was only four — pointed and asked, “Why’s Nola crying? Is she sad? Is she hurt? What’s wrong with her?”
I told the boys what I had to do, and Canaan said he’d come with me to Miss Shirley’s. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “She’s so nice. She won’t get mad. And her vision ain’t good, you know, so even if she tries to, like, hit you, she’ll probably miss.”
But when we got to her front porch, I just stood there, feeling panicked. I couldn’t knock on her door and tell her what I’d done. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Seeing how scared I was, Canaan hopped up the steps and knocked himself.
“Canaan!” I hissed.
But when Miss Shirley answered, he was the one that did all the talking. “Hi, ma’am,” he said. “I came here to apologize. I picked some of your flowers for my mama today, and I didn’t know that was wrong, but she told me, and I’m real sorry about it. Real sorry, ma’am.”
Miss Shirley wasn’t mad at all. She said it was an honest mistake and offered me and Canaan some tea.
“I feel bad you did that,” I told him on our way back to the duplex.
“Why? She wasn’t mad.”
“I know, but I’m the one who did it. I shouldn’t have chickened out. You can’t always help me when I get too scared.”
“Sure I can,” Canaan said. “You’re my best friend, so I’ll always be around to help if you chicken out. Just as long as you’ll be around if I need help, like, running from bears or climbing a mountain or something.”
“There ain’t no bears around here,” I said. “Or mountains. And I wouldn’t be no good at that stuff, anyway.”
“But I’m gonna go places where there are bears and mountains one day,” he said. “And you’re coming, too, and I’ll teach you how to be good at it. You’re not good at basketball, either, but we always win as a team, don’t we?”
“Most of the time.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So that’s when you can help me out. And until then, it’s okay if you chicken out. Deal?”
It didn’t seem all that fair. Even in his plans for the future, he had to help me learn to help him. But he didn’t mind, and I liked the idea of climbing mountains with him one day. So I just laughed. “All right. Deal.”
Mama could tell I was depressed. She kept offering to buy me milkshakes that week or to take me to the movies, but I always said no. All I really wanted to do was sit in my room, draw pictures, and “mope.” That’s what Richard said I was doing, at least.
“What’s the matter?” Mama asked me one morning before she left for work. “I don’t think you’ve left the house in days.”
I shrugged and kept eating my Cheerios.
“Oh no.” Mama sighed. “Is this some sort of teenage hormone thing? Because I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”
“I’m not a teenager,” I told her.
“It won’t be long before you are, though,” she said.
I shrugged again.
“Grandma Lucy said something that really got you upset last Saturday.” She touched my shoulder. “What’s going on, Nola Baby? You can tell me.”
I could’ve, but I didn’t want to. First off, I’d be in trouble for doing all that hunting for Mr. Swift. But also, it was just too hard to say it out loud. To say I couldn’t bring him back like I wanted to and the boys were just gonna have to keep being hurt. That I was leaving them that way, just like he had.
And, to be honest, I hadn’t talked to Mama much about the Swift boys because I didn’t want to burden her when she was so busy with the wedding and the move and everything.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
Mama let out another sigh, ran her hand through my curly hair, and kissed me on the cheek. “Promise me you’ll leave the house while I’m at work,” she said. “Go visit Felicia. Or Teddy.”
“All right.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“Good. I love you. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye, Mama.”
I watched TV on the couch for a while, flipping through the channels every five minutes because nothing good was on. It was about three o’clock when the phone rang.
“Hello?” I said into the receiver. I figured it was Mrs. Hooper calling to check in on me. But instead, it was Felicia.
“Nola.” Her voice was choked, like she was crying. “Have you seen JW anywhere?”
“No. I ain’t been outside. Why? You can’t find him?”
“Uh-uh,” she said. “I let him out into the backyard, but he ain’t there anymore. I’ve looked all over for him. Can you help me?”
“Of course. I’ll go out and holler for him now.”
“Thank you.”
I put on my sandals and headed outside. It was hot, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. I could already feel the sunburn sizzling across my skin.
“Jabberwocky!” I yelled, walking down my driveway, toward the street. “JW! Jabberwocky! Here, boy!”
I made a loop around the subdivision, hollering for him over and over and letting everyone I passed know to keep an eye out for a little yellow dog. I was starting to get worried. JW wasn’t real big yet. If another dog picked a fight with him, he was a goner. I didn’t even like to think about it.
I’d just rounded the corner and was on my way back toward the duplex when I heard yelping sounds. A second later, I saw something that made me feel sick. Canaan, Andy, and Peter — all of them were on the sidewalk ahead, and there was JW, a fat little thing at their feet, barking and crying, trying to get away as they kicked and pulled at him.
And laughed.
Andy had a foot on JW’s tail so he couldn’t get away. “Stupid dog,” he was saying to the other boys. “And ugly, too.”
“Just like its owner,” Peter said. “I can’t stand Felicia.”
“What should we do with him?” Andy asked while Peter bent down to yank on JW’s ear so hard the puppy yelped.
I decided I didn’t want to hear the answer to that.
“Hey!” I screamed, gathering up every bit of courage I had. “Leave the dog alone!”
All three of the boys looked over at me. Both Andy and Peter smiled wickedly, but Canaan didn’t. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Or feeling. His face was blank as paper.
“Fat Fionnula,” Andy said. “What do you want?”
“Give me the puppy,” I told him. “You’re hurting him.”
“What do you care?” Peter asked. “Ain’t your puppy.”
“It’s my friend’s dog,” I said. “And even if he wasn’t, I still wouldn’t let you hurt him. Now get off his tail.”
“Mind your own business,” Andy said.
“This is my business,” I said. “Felicia asked me to find her dog, and I did. Now let me have him.”
“All right,” Andy said. There was a grin on his face that made me nervous. “You can have him. Take him.”
He lifted his foot, freeing JW’s tail. I knelt down and scooped the dog into my arms. He was getting awful heavy, and it took me a second to get my balance. Before I could stand up, though, something hard hit me in the side and sent me and JW down onto the sidewalk.
“Fat Fionnula,” Andy said, leering down at me. He’d been the one to kick me just then. “I bet you’re like a turtle. Bet you can’t get up once you’re down.”
&nb
sp; Peter laughed, like that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
I squeezed JW tight. He barked and growled at the boys, squirming in my arms as I tried to get back up. I was just about to when Andy kicked me again. Not so hard that it hurt real bad, but hard enough to keep me down.
“Told you,” Andy said. “Just like a turtle. A fat turtle.”
I was trying hard not to cry, knowing that would mean they’d won. But I didn’t know how I’d get out of here. There were three of them and just one of me, and right now they wouldn’t even let me get on my feet. Part of me was scared, but part of me was angry, too. Angry at Peter, Andy, and Canaan for being such jerks. And angry at myself for not being strong enough or brave enough to fight back.
“Leave her alone.”
I looked up and was shocked to see Canaan. He was standing with his back to me, blocking me from the other boys.
“What do you care?” Peter asked. “You ain’t friends with her no more. It’s just Nasty Nola.”
“Fat Fionnula,” Andy corrected.
“Shut up,” Canaan said. “And back off her.”
I was so surprised that Canaan was standing up for me that I didn’t even know how to feel. Part of me was happy — because this was something the old Canaan would do. Part of me was mad he’d let it get this far before saying something. And another part of me was disappointed I still needed his help. But mostly, I was just relieved the other two had stopped kicking me, and I really wanted to get JW out of there before they noticed us again.
“Make me,” Andy said.
Everything happened fast after that, and I didn’t stick around long enough to try and make sense of it. I got to my feet, JW in my arms, and took off toward Felicia’s as fast as I could. But from what I saw, Canaan threw the first punch.
Felicia was awful glad to see JW again. She hugged the dog close while he wiggled and licked at her face. “Thank you,” she said. “I was so worried about him.”
“I’m glad I found him.” I didn’t tell her how I’d found him. Or where. Or who with. That’d just make her as upset as I was, and I didn’t want to do that. Besides, JW seemed fine. Like he’d already forgotten what the boys had been doing to him. I wish I could have.
“You wanna come inside?” she asked. “Daddy made a cake to celebrate. Mama got that job she interviewed for.”
“No thanks,” I said. “Tell her congratulations for me, though.”
“All right,” she said. “I will. See you later, Nola.”
I was a little dazed on my walk across the street. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I couldn’t believe Canaan had stood up for me. What did it mean? Was he done being mad at me? Or was he just sick of Andy and Peter? I wondered how bad the fight had gotten and if he was all right.
I was in for another shock when I got back to the duplex. Brian was there, sitting on the Swifts’ front porch. It was the first time I’d seen him in the neighborhood in weeks.
“Hey,” I said, walking across the patch of grass between our driveways. “You’re home.”
He nodded. “Yeah … I couldn’t stay gone forever.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I said.
“It might be.”
Neither of us said anything for a minute. Brian ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his glasses. A few more seconds passed, then he cleared his throat.
“You seen Canaan?”
I nodded. “Yeah … He got in a fight with Andy and Peter a little bit ago. I ain’t seen him since, though. I’m hoping he’s all right.”
“I hope so, too.”
“Where’s Kevin?” I asked.
“Inside taking a nap.”
“Isn’t your mama at work? And you just got back?”
He nodded.
“So Kevin’s been inside by himself all day?”
“I guess so.”
The thought of Kevin, quiet and lonely inside his house, broke my heart. Whether he talked or not, Kevin was a social person. He liked people. He didn’t like being by himself. It made me sad, but also angry at Mrs. Swift and Canaan and Brian for leaving him alone. Hadn’t there been enough leaving already?
Just then I remembered my failed plan to see Mr. Swift, and Sarah Clarke’s address, still tucked away in my room. I didn’t wanna talk about it or think about it, but I knew the boys deserved to know where their daddy had gone.
“Brian,” I said, sitting on the step beside him. “I … I was gonna find your daddy. To tell him to come back. I chickened out last minute, thought maybe it wasn’t my business, but I did get his address if you want it. He’s living in Bunker now with a waitress named —”
“Sarah,” Brian said.
I stared at him, surprised. “How’d you know?”
“I found him,” he said. “Earlier this summer. I went and saw him.”
“So you talked to him? What did he say? What’d you find out?”
“That he’s a jerk. That he’s not coming back. That he left my mom to be with someone else. That he ain’t the father I thought he was.” He looked down at his lap, and I thought he might cry like he had that day in the backyard earlier this summer.
I put my hand over his and squeezed. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“You’re not the one that oughta be apologizing. He is,” Brian said.
“So do … do the others know? Canaan and Kevin and your mama? Did you tell them?”
Brian shook his head. “No. And I’m not gonna.”
“What? Why not?”
“It’d just hurt them.”
“They deserve to know, though,” I argued. “Especially Canaan.”
Brian shook his head. “I kept it from him for a reason, Nola. I hate my dad. I was mad at him for going, but after I found him, I realized I hated him. I hate him.”
“You don’t —”
“I do,” he said. “You know why Kevin stopped talking? It’s because the night Dad left, he was real irritated with something. Maybe Mama — they’d been fighting again. Or maybe it was something else. I don’t know. But Kevin was talking, just chattering away the way he used to. Dad turned to look at him and just snapped. Told him to shut up. Told him he talked too much. Told him he was driving everyone crazy. Ten minutes later, he walked out the door and never came back.”
“But he didn’t leave because of Kevin,” I said.
“We’ve all told Kevin that,” Brian said. “But it hasn’t helped. And you know what Dad said when I told him all of that? That Kevin ain’t talked since he left? He just shrugged and said Kevin had always been too sensitive. That was it. He didn’t even care, Nola. His own kid’s gone mute because he thinks he drove his dad away, and the jerk doesn’t even care at all. What kind of dad is that?”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I hate him,” Brian repeated. “And I wish I didn’t, but I do. I don’t want Canaan and Kevin to hate him, too.”
“But they oughta know the truth,” I said.
“Why?” Brian asked. “They’re hurt enough as it is. That’d just hurt them more. It hurt me more.”
I was about to argue — to remind him that the truth was always the best way — but before I could say anything, I spotted Canaan out of the corner of my eye. He was down the street, headed our way. When he got closer, I saw he had a bloody lip. Brian and I both stood up at once.
“Canaan!” I hollered, running to meet him at the end of the driveway. “You all right? They hurt you bad?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Nola, I’m sorry. About what they did you back there. I knew they were mean, but I never thought they’d knock a girl down.”
Before I could say anything, Brian had come up to us. “Come on,” he said, taking Canaan by the shoulder. “I’ll get you an ice pack.”
I started to follow them inside, but Brian stopped me at the door.
“I think I need to be alone with my brothers,” he said. Suddenly, he seemed so much older. He’d always seemed old for his age, but just then,
something about the look on his face made him seem real old. Like an adult. “We need to talk about stuff — about changes.”
“Changes?” I asked.
Brian nodded. “We can’t keep things up the way they are,” he said. “There’s a lot we gotta talk about. Then I gotta talk to my mom tonight. We have to start making things work again. Even if it’s tough.”
I nodded. “Good luck,” I said. “If y’all need anything, me and Mama are just next door. Well, for now. The move is real soon, but …”
“Thanks, Nola,” Brian said. “You’re a good friend.”
I stayed there until the door had shut, then I walked back around to my front door and headed inside. I didn’t really know what to do with myself. I was full of thoughts and feelings with nowhere to put them. I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t focus on anything, not even drawing. Lucky for me, I didn’t have to for long. Just a few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.
Teddy Ryan was standing on my front porch, dressed in his usual khakis and striped T-shirt. He gave me a big grin when I opened the door.
“Hey, Nola,” he said. “Wanna come jump on my trampoline for a while?”
I nodded. I needed something to do — anything to keep me from thinking about the boys and Mr. Swift. I followed Teddy down the street and we went through his front door, through the kitchen, then out the back to the fenced-in backyard. It was a little weird to not go through the fence.
I hadn’t been on the trampoline since that day Teddy caught me alone. It was strange being here with anyone but the Swift boys. This was our place, after all. It might have been Teddy’s trampoline, but sharing it with him felt strange. Almost wrong.
We bounced together for a while, and I tried to smile and laugh. But it was hard. It got harder, too, when his parents came out the back door.
“Don’t mind us,” Mrs. Ryan said. “We’re just getting the yard picked up.”
“Do you know how to play Popcorn?” Teddy asked me. “You can be the kernel first, if you want?”
“Um … okay.”
But I was too busy watching Mr. and Mrs. Ryan to pay much attention. Mr. Ryan had just started going around the edge of the yard, pulling up weeds. He stopped, crouched near the edge of the fence. He leaned on a board for support.
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