When my phone rang, I mistook it for the alarm. Then I saw my stepsister Tangie’s number flash. I didn’t answer. I’d be too nervous to talk, and she’d know something was up. Five minutes passed.
I peered inside the gate, hoping to see Markie hustling out with the bike. Nothing. I called her number. It rang a few times and went to voicemail. Okay, I’ll give her another minute. The same kids raced back by, this time with no dog trailing.
I walked around the gate to see if I could see any sign of her. The windows were caked with dirt. I called again—voicemail.
Back at the front of the gate, I stared at the private property sign like a red light. She was more than five minutes over her time. I pulled the gate open as far as I could and wormed my way in. Some small squirrel skittered underneath a car that had two flat tires. At least I hoped it was a squirrel.
I couldn’t fit the bike through the gate, so I leaned it against the fence, hoping that no one would touch it. I sprinted into the back of the building and into the office.
“Markie!” I called. The floor creaked and a thin cat dashed across the floor, which was grimy with dirt and oil. I couldn’t imagine how the bottom of my shoes must look. The back of the door had a poster of a white woman in a bikini, standing next to a race car and holding a jug of Valvoline. The dirty windows blocked the sunshine and the inside smelled of mildew and burnt rubber.
“Markie!” I shouted again. Instead of her voice, clanging rang out. I followed the sound and there Markie stood banging a large stone against a lockbox.
“Thought you were grabbing the bike and coming right out. What are you doing?”
“I’ll give you one guess,” she said and struck the lock again. “Wait. I bet you have a bobby pin, don’t you?”
I wanted to say no. But to keep my hair from tickling my neck, sometimes I pinned the ends up.
“We could go to jail for breaking and entering, and now you want to add vandalism.”
“Look around. Not sure there’s something here that anyone would toss us in jail for. Plus, we’re juvies. The most we’ll get is a good talking to. Some sort of scare tactic. Trust me, they have their hands full with real crimes. We’re like gnats. I need two pins. One for the lock pin, the other for a tension wrench.”
I dug in my purse for another one.
“Straighten one out for me and bite off the plastic tip.”
“Maybe we should just look around for a key.”
“Tried that. Nothing.” As I held the lock, she inserted the straight end. “Now hold it steady. When I insert this end, you must put the straight edge in that groove and turn. I need you to be my other hand,” she said.
“Not funny. And I don’t buy you’re not worried about police.”
“Lighten up, please.” After about two minutes of fiddling around with it, it popped. And there were some old receipts and about ten dollars.
“Boom,” she said and stuffed the money in her pockets. ‘Alone we can do so little. Together we can do so much.’”
“Wherever that’s from, I’m sure it wasn’t meant for stealing.”
“It’s Helen Keller. I had a teacher who thought instead of me playing with the other kids, it would be better if I sat out recess and learned platitudes. She was really into Keller. Maybe having a short arm was the same as being blind in her world. Who knows?”
I surveyed the office. There was a pallet in the corner. A stack of books. And a few cans. On the desk was her backpack. And there was the bike leaning against the wall.
“Wait! Are you living here?”
“Let’s just say it’s my bunker, an aboveground fallout shelter. People like me need a place to hide out, take cover. When I hang out here, I have time to figure things out.”
“If you don’t like where you live, maybe Aunt Essie… she’ll take you in. You don’t have to stay here.”
“Ms. Essie has enough to deal with. And you just don’t get it. I’m not a piece of luggage. Everybody doesn’t have to take me with them, and not everybody wants to. Don’t even know why I said ‘luggage.’ Most of the time, I’m moving in garbage bags. Aunt Vie even bought me a suitcase once, but someone stole it.”
“That must have been rough,” I said.
She hunched her shoulders. “You get used to not having something of your own.”
“Bet that’s a horrible feeling,” I said. It made me feel silly about my biggest complaint being Peaches sharing my room. I wished that every girl could have her own room. But I didn’t have time to think about that for long. As we were talking, the gate rattled. The grumbling of a truck was like the roar of a bear.
“Get down!” Markie hissed. We crawled under the desk.
“They’ll see us. They’ll see all of your stuff,” I whispered.
“No, he hasn’t come inside before. Whoever it is probably just needs something out of the yard. Just keep quiet.”
Minutes passed. My knees were shaking. But I’d stay like that a straight hour if it meant we didn’t get caught.
I couldn’t squeeze my eyes any tighter than they were. Tiny red dots danced behind my lids.
The truck didn’t rev up again and rumble out of the gate like Markie said. A man’s voice was in the hall. Heavy footsteps weighed on the creaky floors.
“I got to recommend they secure this place up. Get a new alarm,” a husky voice said. But as I listened to it, it became familiar, though I wasn’t sure. “Hey, let me call you back, something’s up in here.”
I tried my best not to breathe. Not to make a sound. But there was so much dust. I bit my tongue harder than I’d ever bitten it before in hopes of not sneezing. Markie had her finger to her lips.
He walked around a second, though I know he had to see everything in there from the door.
It had to be about as close to fainting from fright that I’d ever been, including that time Daddy took Nikki and me to the haunted cornfield maze. I waited for hands to even lift the desk from above us or just yank us from underneath it. I balled myself up as tightly as I could.
Then his phone rang. But he didn’t answer. It wasn’t until his boots were right in front of us, until the phone was on the third ring that I realized that it wasn’t his phone at all, but Markie’s.
“Markie Jean! Come out from under there,” he shouted. “I know it’s you. What are you doing in here?”
Those flashes of light behind my lids were an eternity compared to the speed that everything else happened. Markie and I eased from under the desk. I came out with my hands up.
“He’s not the police, put your hands down,” Markie said.
“Ain’t you two lucky that I’m not the police?” At that the voice and face were clear. It was Peanut Man. “Markie, you haven’t answered my question: what are you doing in here?”
“She was getting her bike, sir,” I said, which was better than Markie’s silence, so I thought.
He nodded. “Let’s let Markie Jean speak for herself.” Then he took a handkerchief out of his painter overalls that had splotches everywhere. After dabbing his forehead, he faced her directly. I expected his voice to be gruff, but it was soft as if we were in the library.
When I glanced at Markie, her eyes were searching the floor. And her arm was folded behind her back.
Peanut Man lifted her chin. “I thought we’d come to an understanding. Was I wrong?” he said. Why wouldn’t she say that before instead of acting like she didn’t even know the people who owned the shop.
“We did. But I just needed to keep this stuff here for a while,” she said.
“I’m just checking on the property. Told you I sold it, right? The new owner is one of those Guidry brothers and not likely to be as easy on you as I am. What’s gotten into you? Saw you help yourself to the peanuts the other day. Didn’t I tell you that you’re welcome to take ’em and sell ’em anytime you liked?”
“Yes, sir,” Markie said.
“So if I keep my word, don’t you think you should keep yours?”
She nodded.
<
br /> When he said that, I replayed that entire moment in my head: He went inside. She ran on the porch. She asked me did I want some. Did I say she was stealing them? Did she run just to mess with me?
“Let’s get your stuff together. I’m going to take you home and talk to your guardian myself this time. Nothing personal but I can’t let you think this is okay.”
“No, Peanut Man, please. I’ll take it all home myself. No need to worry her.”
“That’s what you said last time and the time before that. I didn’t have a problem with you hanging out in here when I owned the place. But it’s changing hands. And this is ’bout your third warning. I’m not a betting man, but I’d say that’s three more than any Guidry’s gonna give you. Let’s get this stuff gathered up.”
In a flash, Markie knocked down a rusted lamp. When it crashed to the floor, she took off.
Before my feet came unglued from the tile, Peanut Man’s hand was firm on my shoulder, pinning me in place. I thought Markie would stop when she realized I wasn’t behind her, but she kept running until I heard the gate rattle.
My adrenaline transformed into slush. I stood there melting on the spot.
“Didn’t I see you just the other day?” Peanut Man asked. For the first time, I looked up at him straight. “You Mrs. Essie’s grandniece.”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I promise I won’t come back if you let me go. I’ll keep Markie from coming here, too.”
“Nah. I’ve already been too lenient to let her hang out in here. But that was when I owned it. She’d tidy up and do some busy work. It’ll be on my head if anything happened.”
He took out his phone again.
“You said you didn’t like cell phones,” I reminded him. If he heard me, he didn’t acknowledge it.
He pulled the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker. I didn’t have to ask who he was calling. I knew. With every ring, my summer plans washed down the drain. Then “Sweetings Family Diner” pinged off the walls.
“Essie, this Peanut Man,” he said. “I got something that belongs to you. Someone, I should say.” A washing machine’s spin cycle couldn’t go much faster than the way the room spun. Then my head pounded like somebody was playing Whack-A-Mole right on my skull. “Tell her what’s going on, young lady.”
I squeezed my eyes so tight that I bet my whole face was the size of a fist.
“It’s me, Auntie. It’s Georgie.”
“Lilly Mae,” she called out to Grandma Sugar. I imagined them with the phone split down the middle of them.
“Georgie, what you gotten yourself into?” Grandma Sugar cried.
A few sniffles before I could even speak. “I was just looking around,” I said, digging myself in deeper.
Peanut Man spoke. “Markie Jean ran off and left Ms. Georgie behind. I could deliver her right to the police station, but I know she got people. Plus I don’t trust a few of them to teach her a lesson I’d want her to learn.”
“Thank you for that. Do me a favor and drop her off at Elvie’s. We’ll take it from there.”
“See you in a bit.”
We packed up Markie’s stuff and put it in his truck. It was a few garbage bags. One was filled with books, paperbacks mostly. I stuck my hand in and pulled out a worn copy of Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. I’d checked that book out of the library two years ago. And another I’d never heard of, M.C. Higgins, the Great. The others were science books. There was that lockbox on the desk. Peanut Man picked it up and put it in a bag.
“That’s hers?” I said.
“Used to be mine. Gave it to her.”
I felt stupid.
“What you gonna do with all her stuff?” I asked.
“Guess I’ll put it in my basement. She’ll be back around.”
“Can you leave it at my aunt Vie’s house?”
“Fine by me.”
I knew nobody would object to that, even Mama. Keeping her stuff safe was the least of my worries.
When we took off, I stared out the window. And, right before the building was out of sight, Markie appeared. I’d totally forgotten about Scooter’s bike. She straddled it and was holding something in her hand.
It was safe to say that we’d run into a major roadblock in the Find Markie’s Mama plan.
And as far as talent shows, whatever Peaches and I could do in our porch crib would be about it once Mama was finished with me. I needed every ounce of brainpower to get myself out of the biggest trouble in all my eleven years. Daddy always told me, “You may get yourself into trouble with other people, but you end up figuring a way out of it alone.” Had a feeling I was about to learn how right he was about that.
12
TRIPLE TROUBLE
Peanut Man wasn’t as talkative as he was when we first met. If I hadn’t heard him talking the other day, I’d have thought he was what Daddy would call “a man of few words.” I honestly wished he hadn’t had enough words to call Sweetings and tattle on me, but I guessed I brought that on myself. I was just thankful that his truck was about as old as one of Mama’s old-timey shows, Sanford and Son. It puttered along, giving me time to think of what to say when we got to Aunt Vie’s.
I wanted to disappear as soon as we got close enough that I could see the house. There on the porch were Grandma Sugar, Aunt Essie, and Mama. Triple trouble.
“I hope you know I did this for your own good,” Peanut Man told me.
I didn’t, but I said, “Yes, sir.”
“Things have changed here some, but don’t you ever forget there are people around these parts that will do you harm as easy as they take pie with coffee. And it’s not just racist white folks like it used to be. This younger generation, well, some got too much time on their hands. Been trying to get them something like a Boys & Girls Club here for ages. Closest one is forty miles away.”
“That’s far,” I managed to say.
He slid up against the curb of Aunt Vie’s house and I figured that this was what it must be like to have Mama come up to the principal’s office if I’d ever given a teacher at Sweet Apple Elementary any reason to. Mama was out of the gate and sidled up at Peanut Man’s window before he could even cut off the engine.
“Sorry to visit under these circumstances,” he said, taking his cap off and stepping out. Mama hadn’t even looked at me yet. “I’ve been meaning to get by here and see Vie for a while now.”
“Come on out here, Georgie,” Mama said, her voice tight with anger.
“I have to help with Markie’s stuff,” I said.
“You don’t have to do nothing but get yourself in the house, right now.”
“I’ll handle it all for you,” Peanut Man said.
Mama eyed the bags. “And what’s all this?”
“Markie was sorta living there,” I said.
In one swoop, Peanut Man had the bike, as well as the two Hefty bags full of Markie’s belongings in his hands.
“You can just put it on the porch. We’ll get it to her soon enough,” Grandma Sugar said.
I looked at my shoes instead of at Mama.
“You come on down to the diner, Peanut Man, whenever you’re ready and take a breakfast or dinner home for your trouble. Take one home for you and Mattie Mae.”
“I’ll be sure to take you up on that. I’m glad it was my property and not someone else’s. Changes hands soon, though.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Aunt Essie said. “Heard you sold it to one of them Guidrys.”
He nodded.
“I know you would have found somebody better to take it off your hands if you coulda.”
He didn’t even bother with words, just nodded, and yanked out his handkerchief again.
Whatever punishment Mama had, I didn’t want to be a spectacle for the neighborhood. I dashed into the house, winded at the thought of what was coming my way.
As soon as the screen door shut, Peaches was on the stairs, peeking down.
“Mama told me to stay up here. I messed up a little bit.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
The door opened behind me and I was tempted to bolt upstairs.
“Can you even count the lies you’ve told today? And you have your sister lying for you, too.” Mama peered up the stairs, though Peaches wasn’t visible. “Read for a while like I told you, Peaches. Your sister and I have some talking to do.”
Mama hung her head for a minute, which made me feel worse. When anyone made Mama the level of upset that she had to take a moment to speak, she hung her head. She’d do it often with Daddy, sometimes with Grandma. More and more, she was doing it with me. When she’d glanced up, she was seeking help. When she closed her eyes, she was summoning patience. When she hung her head, it seemed like she felt helpless.
“I don’t know where to begin with you, Georgie. Before I can even talk about you being on Peanut Man’s property, what in the world made you think it was okay to leave Peaches, your sister, here without saying a word?”
“I told her to tell you I’d be back.” If I knew that my excuse didn’t make sense, I knew Mama knew. It was all I had, though.
“You know doggone well that you’re supposed to watch her. Not drop her off like soiled laundry and keep stepping.”
“You brought me here for the summer and made it seem like I’d have stuff to do. But you don’t want me out of your sight unless I’m with Peaches. You still won’t even let me help with Aunt Vie, nothing.”
“That’s not true. I let you go down to the diner and look what happened.”
“Daddy talked to you. That’s the only reason. You didn’t do it on your own.”
“None of that has anything to do with you trespassing on someone’s property. So you go right upstairs and think about it.”
“She didn’t want to go home. That’s why she ran. All she wants to do is find her mama.”
“And what does that have to do with you?”
“Nothing, she just talks to me about it. She was on her way to see someone who may know something about her mama,” I said.
“Who was that?”
“I don’t know.”
It wasn’t the time for me to mention Ms. Hannah, especially after I heard Aunt Vie talking about her before raising her hand to Mama.
Forever This Summer Page 9
