by R. L. Stine
And there was his mother. Elaine Saltzman. Ahead of Lea in the line. Elaine turned as if she knew Lea was thinking about her. “Lea?”
“Hi, Elaine. How are you?”
Elaine swept her coppery hair behind one shoulder. She motioned toward the boys. “Do you have nephews visiting?”
“No. They’re mine. I mean—”
“Yours?”
“I’m adopting them. They grew up on that island off the Carolinas. Cape Le Chat Noir? They lost their families in the hurricane. And I—”
“That’s so wonderful of you, Lea. You just brought them here? You’re adopting both of them? Do you know anything about them?”
“Not really. But look. They’re sharing their candy bars with your son. Look how sweet they are.”
———
Samuel thought the boy was funny-looking. He looks like a big mean dog. Is he really only twelve?
The boy’s head was enormous, his black hair uncombed, falling wildly over his square forehead. He had such a mean scowl on his face. And those little bulldog eyes.
It didn’t take long to see that Ira was afraid of him.
“This is Derek,” Ira whispered as the boy lumbered up to them. “Be careful. He’s really mean. Be nice to him.”
Daniel chuckled. Samuel gave him a look, a warning, to be cool. Don’t be yourself, Daniel, he thought.
“Hey,” the big kid said. He had his eyes on Samuel’s candy bar. “What’s up?”
“These are my new brothers,” Ira told him. His voice was suddenly trembly. Like a warbling bird, Samuel thought.
Derek sneered. It made him look more like a pig than a bulldog. “Brothers? Since when?”
“My parents are adopting them,” Ira said. “They live with us now.”
Derek eyed the twins up and down, sizing them up. “How old are you?”
“Twelve,” Daniel answered.
“You don’t look twelve. You look six.”
Samuel felt a tremor of fear. Please don’t be yourself, Daniel.
Derek leaned over them, trying to be intimidating. “What are your names? Babyface One and Babyface Two?”
“I’m Daniel and he’s Samuel. Or maybe I’m Samuel and he’s Daniel. Sometimes I forget.”
Derek sneered again. “You’re a funny guy.” He eyed them slowly. “No. I got a better name for you. You’re Shrimp One and you’re Shrimp Two.”
“I want to be Shrimp Two,” Daniel said. “Can I be Shrimp Two?” He had the sweetest smile on his face. Samuel had seen that crazy smile before. It meant he wasn’t thinking sweet thoughts.
Derek stretched out a porky hand to Daniel. “I’ll finish your candy bar for you.”
Samuel saw a hard jolt freeze Daniel’s face. And then he caught the warning glance from Ira. Ira took a step back. He had his eyes on Daniel. “Just give it to him,” Ira whispered.
“Give it,” Derek ordered. He waved his hand in Daniel’s face. “I’ll finish it.” He turned to Samuel. “I’ll finish yours, too. You’ve had enough, right?”
“Right.” Samuel had his eyes on poor, frightened Ira. He handed his chocolate bar to Derek. Then he waited to see what Daniel would do.
Daniel kept that sweet smile on his face, but his cheeks were kind of red. Samuel knew that look, too. He knew everything about Daniel. After all, he was almost him. Almost, but a little different.
To Samuel’s relief, Daniel stuffed his candy bar into the big porker’s hand. “Enjoy it, Derek,” he said. “It’s all yours.”
Derek snickered. “I will enjoy it, dude.” He took a big bite and chewed with his mouth open so they could see the chocolate chunks smearing over his teeth.
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Daniel sounded hurt.
Derek chewed noisily. Some chocolate juice ran down his chin. He swallowed. “Funny,” he told Daniel. “You’re fucking funny. Next time, I’ll want a whole bar.”
Daniel’s smile grew tighter. Like a mask.
Samuel felt his heart skip a beat. Uh-oh.
He saw the new mum by the front windows waving two big shopping bags at them. He tugged Daniel’s arm. “We have to go. The new mum wants to leave.”
Daniel nodded. He turned slowly and followed Samuel and Ira. Derek stood in place, a candy bar in each hand, stuffing his face.
Ira pushed between them, his face all sweaty. “You have to be nice to Derek. He’s a bad dude. He likes to hurt people. Really. He beat up my friend Ethan behind the playground at school and almost broke his arm.”
“Doesn’t he ever get caught?” Daniel asked.
“I think the teachers are afraid of him, too,” Ira said.
They caught up with Lea. The twins thanked her again. All the way home, they kept thanking her and discussing which shirts and jeans to wear on their first day of school.
“That was so nice of you to share your candy with Derek,” Lea said.
“We like to share things, don’t you know,” Daniel told her.
“On the island, people have to share,” Samuel added. “Because there isn’t enough to go around.”
He saw a sad smile form on Lea’s face as she made the turn onto their block.
As soon as they were home, the twins carried the shopping bags to their room in the guesthouse. Daniel closed the door behind them, making sure it clicked. Then he pushed the lock on the handle.
He tossed the shopping bags onto the floor and turned to his twin. “What did you get?”
Samuel pulled the red leather wallet from his back pocket. He handed it to Daniel.
He could see the surprise on Daniel’s face. “You got a woman’s wallet? What’s in it?”
“Didn’t have time to look. Someone dropped it on the dressing room floor.”
Eyes flashing with excitement, Daniel poked through the wallet and pulled out a bunch of bills. “Yes. Yes. These are fifties, Sammy. Three hundred dollars. You did good.” He gave his brother a congratulatory face slap.
Samuel giggled. He liked it when Daniel was pleased with him. “What did you get, Daniel?”
Daniel reached deep into both of his pockets and began to pull out shiny things. Chains. Chains with sparkly things attached.
“Necklaces,” Samuel said. “Good boyo. So many sparkly necklaces. How did you get them?”
“Easy as salt clam pie, Sammy. The display case wasn’t locked.”
He swung the necklaces over his head, round and around, and did his funny Daniel dance. “I like sparkly things,” he said. “I’ll put these with the necklace we found in Sister’s room.”
24
Lea stirred the soup in the pot with a long wooden spoon. Behind her, the twins were already seated at the table, eager for their lunch. She smiled. So far they had devoured everything she gave them. They seemed to like any food you put in front of them. Ira was such a picky eater. These boys were a pleasure.
“Is it soup yet?” Mark entered the kitchen, scratching his stubbly face. “What a morning. The guy from the grant committee is coming here.”
Lea turned from the stove. “Really? Did he tell you how much they’re giving you?”
Mark snickered. He stepped up behind Lea and kissed the back of her neck. “You’re such an optimist.”
She frowned. “Well, they have to give you at least part of the grant, right? They wouldn’t turn you down flat.”
Mark shrugged. “Who knows? It’s hard times. I know you don’t read the newspaper—”
“I read it online. The guy’s coming all the way out from the city?”
“He said he has a house out here.”
“Why didn’t he tell you over the phone? He likes to give good news in person?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. He wouldn’t even give me a hint.”
The soup made a sizzling sound. Lea spun around. She snapped the burner off before it boiled over the side of the pot. “Sit down. We’re all having tomato soup. Homemade. I sliced the tomatoes and everything this morning.”
“Wha
t a homemaker.” Mark tried to kiss her again but she ducked her head as she lifted the soup pot from the stove. “Too bad you’re going away again. Who will make us homemade soup?”
“Huh? Going away? Mark, I’m going to the city tomorrow morning for one night. I’ll be back late the following day. You’re not going to make me feel guilty about a day and a half in the city, are you?”
He backed away, raising both hands in surrender. “Just teasing. You know I’ll miss you even if it’s only one night. Every minute is precious to me.”
“Shut up. You’re not funny.”
Ira and Elena were away at friends’ houses. She ladled the thick tomato soup into bowls, then joined Mark and the twins at the table.
Daniel leaned his face to the bowl and took a long whiff. “Smells so good, Mum. Tangy as sea grass drying on the beach.”
“My bruvver is a poet,” Samuel said.
“I like the way you boys speak,” Lea said, stirring her soup, watching the steam rise from the red liquid. “You have good vocabularies.”
“There’s no school on the island, Mum,” Daniel said. “But our parents, bless their souls, taught us well.”
Bless their souls? He sounds like an old man.
An old man, but a charming old man.
She wished Ira could pick up some of their charm and politeness. Maybe it would rub off on him. If only he would spend some time with his new brothers . . .
“Wonderful soup,” Mark said, across the table from her. He raised the pepper mill and ground a load of pepper into it. He always added pepper, no matter what the food was.
If I gave him a bowl of pepper, he’d add pepper.
Lea had learned not to be insulted when he reseasoned her food that way.
She raised a spoon of soup and blew on it. “Careful. It’s very hot.”
The soup bubbled on the spoon. Red. So bright and red. Where had she seen that color before?
She flicked the spoon hard and sent the soup flying over Mark’s shoulder. It made a soft splash on the wall.
The rain had come down so hard. Sheets of it. All bloodred. Red as the tomato soup.
Lea raised another spoonful, whipped her hand up, and sent the soup flying across the table onto the wall.
“Hey—Lea?” Mark’s startled cry.
The twins laughed. Did they think it was funny?
The red rain. The bloodred rain. The rain of all the victims’ blood. The dead crying their red tears down on everyone.
The dead. The raining dead. Their red tears steaming in her soup bowl.
Lea flung another spoon of the red rain, the bloodred rain, spoon after spoon splashing on the white kitchen wall. Tears rolling down her face. Sobs wrenching her throat and chest.
The red rain splashed on the wall. Splashed. Splashed again. Till Mark wrapped his arms around her from behind. Wrapped his arms around her so tight the spoon fell from her trembling hand.
“Hold on to me, Mark. Hold on to me.” Where did those words come from? “Hold on to me. Don’t let me go back there.”
25
“When will Mom be back?” Elena lifted the whole toaster waffle to her mouth and bit off an end.
Mark took a long sip of coffee from the white mug in his hand. “She just left an hour ago. She was taking the first jitney. You already want her back?”
Elena gave him the eye-roll. “Just asking, that’s all.”
“She has meetings today. She’s staying with her sister in the Village tonight. She’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon. Okay?”
“Okay. Why are you such a grouch?”
“Sorry. Just tense, I guess. I didn’t want her to go. She seems so shaky. She can’t seem to leave that damned island behind her.”
“Da-ad. Language.” Elena motioned toward the twins having their breakfast at the table.
“Maybe some meetings in the city will do her good. Give her something else to think about,” Roz chimed in from the other end of the table, Axl on her lap with an egg-stained face.
Elena swallowed a chunk of waffle. “Does Mom’s cell work? I need to talk to her. You’re being totally stupid and unfair.”
Mark shrugged. “Yes. Everyone tells me I’m stupid. And unfair.”
Across from Elena, Samuel and Daniel giggled. Daniel leaned toward Axl. “How’s my monkey boy?”
Axl stuck his tongue out, pleased with the attention. But Roz snapped at Daniel, “I wish you wouldn’t call him that.”
“He likes it.”
“I’m fourteen,” Elena told Mark, dropping the waffle onto the plate. “All my friends go into the city on their own.”
Mark sighed. He spun the coffee mug between his hands. The cuckoo clock above the sink chirped eight times. They were going to be late.
“You know my feeling on this. Why bring it up now?”
Elena’s dark eyebrows formed arched Vs over her eyes, the sign that she was angry. “You’re a total phony, Dad.”
The twins giggled again. That made Axl giggle, too. Roz tried to wipe the caked egg off his cheeks with a paper napkin. Ira kept his head down, concentrating on his Cheerios, keeping out of it.
“Me? A phony?”
“You wrote a book saying parents should let their kids do what they want. But you—”
“That didn’t include letting a bunch of fourteen-year-old girls go traipsing around New York City with no plan or idea of what they’re going to do.”
Elena balled her hands into fists and let out an angry growl. “We . . . don’t . . . traipse.” Said through gritted teeth.
“Let’s table this for later. We’re going to be late.” He balled up his paper napkin and threw it onto the table. “And stop tossing my book back at me. I know you haven’t read it. The book is a piece of research. It doesn’t mean I can’t make decisions as your father.”
“Phony, Dad.” The eye-roll again. “You’re a phony and a grouch.”
Mark watched the twins gobble down the last syrupy pieces of their toaster waffles. “How are you boys doing in the guesthouse? You like it back there?” He had to change the subject.
“We love it,” Samuel said. “Our own house. We never had our own house.”
“Our house was always crowded with a lot of strangers, don’t you know,” Daniel added.
“Really? Well, it was nice of Roz to give up her place for you, wasn’t it?”
“Mark, they’ve already thanked me a hundred times,” Roz said, obviously pleased. “And they were so sweet. They both helped me carry my stuff up to the attic. They’re very hard workers.”
Grinning, the twins raised their skinny arms, doing muscle poses, showing off nonexistent biceps.
“Well, I didn’t think it was a good idea,” Mark said. “But I’m glad if it works out. Your own secret hideout.” He glanced at the wall clock. “Come on, guys. Get your backpacks. I’m driving today because Mrs. Maloney wants to meet the twins. Tomorrow you go back to the school bus.”
Ira groaned. “I hate the bus. I get bus sick every day.”
“Get over it,” Elena said helpfully. She bumped him from behind. They bumped each other up the stairs to get their backpacks.
Roz stretched and smiled. “It’s going to be so quiet here in just a few seconds.” That was Axl’s cue to start crying. “What are you doing today?” she asked Mark.
“Autumn and I are going over some foreign contracts and some mail. Then I have a meeting. A guy from the Blakeman Institute is coming here at four.”
“Weird. He’s coming all the way out to Sag Harbor? Is he bringing you a fat check?”
Mark laughed. “You and my wife are a lot alike. She asked the same question.”
“Well?”
“I hope so. I’m counting on this grant. I won’t get any book royalties for another five months.”
“YAAAAAY.” The twins came bursting into the kitchen with their brand-new blue canvas backpacks bouncing on their backs.
“Let’s go, guys!” Mark said. “The principal wants
to meet you two.”
“Rule the school!” Daniel cried, pumping a fist above his head. “We’re going to rule the school!”
“Rule the school! Rule the school!”
———
Mrs. Maloney was a solid woman, with short salt-and-pepper hair over a square, no-nonsense face. She wore no makeup. Her green-gray eyes were the most colorful parts of her face. They radiated humor and intelligence and were enough to make people find her attractive.
Her silky tan blouse pulled tightly over her bulge of a stomach, and even from the other side of her cluttered desk, Mark could see that she was straining her stretch-type brown pants. A tube of Pringles and a can of Pepsi on the edge of the desk revealed that she didn’t care much about her weight.
She greeted the twins warmly as Mark ushered them into her small office. Daniel took the chair beside the desk. Samuel sat across from the desk. Mark watched from the doorway.
The principal showed them she already knew how to tell one from the other (thanks to a previous visit from Lea). And she gave them school maps and copies of last year’s yearbook, which the twins seemed quite pleased with.
Mark knew quite a lot about Mrs. Maloney. She had first been principal at the Sag Harbor elementary school next door before moving to the middle school last year.
Sag Harbor had a large Irish community. They were the carpenters and landscapers and housekeepers, waitresses and pub owners.
Some said they came here because the weather so near the ocean was close to the weather in Ireland. But more likely, they came because they had relatives here. Mrs. Maloney and her husband had emigrated nearly twenty years ago from a town named Wicklow when they couldn’t find teaching jobs in the local schools.
She still had her Irish accent, which made her sound as if she were singing instead of talking, and added to her warmth. She joked with the twins, and they seemed delighted with her.
“There’s less than two months left of school, lads,” she told them, turning serious. “But it should be enough time for you to learn your way around and make some new friends.”
