Al Capone Does My Homework

by Gennifer Choldenko

6. Fits and Whispers

  Monday, January 20, 1936

  When I wake up, it’s past ten in the morning, the light is streaming in through the windows, and Mrs. Mattaman is frying sausages. Rocky is setting up his blocks and knocking them down. “Boomy-boomy-boomy,” Rocky says. Nat and Theresa are playing the name-that-state game. Theresa points to one of the forty-eight states and Nat tells what page of the book the state is on.

  If only this was a regular sleepover and we could just walk home now.

  “Natalie,” I say, “the fire last night . . . do you know how it started?”

  “It started in the kitchen, I think,” Natalie says.

  “That’s what I think. Hey, wait a minute, that’s what I said.”

  “Moose said,” Natalie agrees.

  “Okay, but what do you think?”

  Natalie sits on her hands and rocks back and forth. Sometimes dealing with Nat is like playing baseball without the ball. You got to make up the whole game yourself.

  “Moose,” Mrs. Mattaman calls from the kitchen. “You and Natalie want some breakfast?”

  “Sure, Mrs. Mattaman, thanks.”

  Nat jumps up. Like me, she can always eat, especially when Mrs. Mattaman is doing the cooking.

  I head for the kitchen, but Nat gets stuck at the light switch, on-off-on-off.

  “Okay, Nat, that’s enough,” I say, and to my surprise she stops.

  “I made you chocolate chip pancakes and sausages, and we’ve got leftover cinnamon apples,” Mrs. Mattaman says.

  “Thanks,” I tell her.

  “She loves cooking for you,” Jimmy whispers. “Probably because you’d eat the phone book and say it was delicious. Then burp a few names or a number here and there.”

  I nod. “Phone book burps are so satisfying.”

  “Janet Trixle is a big fat liar,” Theresa blurts out at the table as she picks the chocolate chips from her pancakes and piles them on her plate.

  “Theresa,” Mrs. Mattaman scolds. “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”

  “What if Janet is a liar? What if she really is? She said Natalie burned down your apartment. But I told her that was a lie and then her mom said it was time for me to go.”

  Mrs. Mattaman’s lips pinch up tight. “Let’s not talk about this right now, Theresa.”

  “She said her daddy is going to be the warden too.” Theresa is unstoppable.

  “I said not now, Theresa.”

  “You said not to talk about the fire. I’m talking about her daddy. That’s different.”

  “Let’s not talk about the Trixles or the fire,” Mrs. Mattaman suggests.

  Theresa holds up a pancake that looks like it’s full of bullet holes where she picked the chocolate chips out.

  “Don’t play with your food,” Mrs. Mattaman tells her.

  We’ve just finished when my father raps dum-de-de-dum on the door. My mother teaches music, but it’s my father who likes to sing and dance. “Hey all, good morning,” he calls.

  “Come on in, Cam,” Mrs. Mattaman says. “Can I fix you some breakfast?”

  “Nope, I’ve eaten, thanks. Came to collect my kids, Anna Maria. I appreciate you and Riv pinch-hitting.”

  “Sure thing, Cam,” Mrs. Mattaman says, but her eyes aren’t smiling. “Can I have a quick word with you before you go?”

  “Of course,” my dad answers. “Moose, you go on and help Natalie get everything gathered up.”

  There’s nothing to gather up. This is my father’s way of getting rid of me. I march Nat to Theresa’s room, then double back to stand behind the sewing machine in the hall.

  Mrs. Mattaman takes a deep breath. “There’s going to be trouble, Cam,” she says in a husky whisper. “Bea and Darby are pitching a fit. They’re trying to pin things on Natalie. Bea’s all set to call Nat’s school. Tell them she starts fires. I’m hoping they’ll calm down, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “Why’s she so sure it’s Natalie?”

  “You know they’ve never liked her. Now they got their teeth into something here and they aren’t letting go.”

  “Anything else I should know?”

  “Nothing you can’t figure out yourself,” Mrs. Mattaman says.

  My father groans. “I hate to think Darby would use something like this.”

  “We’d all hate to think it,” Mrs. Mattaman says.

  “Okay, Anna Maria. I hear you.”

  “You know we’re behind you one hundred and fifty percent.” Mrs. Mattaman again.

  “Thanks, Anna Maria. Can’t think what we’d do without you two.”

  Whenever adults get to thanking each other, you know the conversation is over. I scoot back into Theresa’s room to get Natalie.

  “You hear anything good?” Jimmy asks.

  “I was just, you know, inspecting your sewing machine,” I say.

  “I’m sure,” Jimmy says. “Planning on using it real soon. Gonna sew yourself a little skirt?”

  “Yep. Gonna have a built-in petticoat too.”

  “Nice,” Jimmy says. He waits, though. He wants the real stuff.

  “Your mom thinks the Trixles are on the warpath.”

  Jimmy nods.

  “Jim?” I ask.

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t want to talk to my dad,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t ask why. Maybe he already knows. You never can tell with Jimmy. “I can come with you, if you want,” he says.

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Sure,” he says as we head for the front room.

  Out the window, a sailboat rips across the bay with a big tan guy holding the tiller. The lives of people like that seem so easy. My life is never like that.

  7. Under the Caconis’ Apartment

  Monday, January 20, 1936

  After the fire last night, all the moms decide we can take a day off from school. This is pretty unusual. It’s not worth getting your place burned down for a one-day vacation, but still. Lots of afternoons Jimmy has to work for Bea Trixle at the canteen, but since today is an unexpected holiday, Jimmy isn’t on the schedule.

  When Jimmy and I get to the Chudley place, we’re surprised how large it is. You could play a game of badminton in the living room.

  The house is empty—our footsteps echo on the hardwood floors. In one of the bedrooms I see two cots with blankets and pillows. My parents must have slept there. The view is incredible from all the windows though; it’s like you can see half of California from up here.

  I’m sticking to Jimmy like he’s my second skin. That way I know my dad won’t ask me any hard questions. It’s when Jimmy and I are out on the back porch that the answer to my problem pops into my head. If I find out who or what started the fire, then no one will care if I fell asleep or not.

  “Jimmy,” I ask, “if you were to solve a mystery, how would you do it?”

  “I’d get help. I’d put a team together.” Jimmy fiddles with a railing support that has come loose.

  “What kind of a team?”

  “Annie because she’s logical and a good problem solver. Piper—she has access to more information than the rest of us. And me because I understand the science behind fire.”

  “You’ve been waiting for me to ask this, haven’t you?”

  He smiles.

  “What about Theresa?” I ask.

  “Now that she’s Piper’s slave, she goes wherever Piper goes. Two for the price of one.”

  “We should have a meeting, then. Figure this out.”

  Jimmy nods. “In the secret passageway,” he says.

  The secret passageway is a crawlspace in 64 building that runs under apartment #1D, an empty apartment, and #1E, Mrs. Caconi’s place. We aren’t supposed
to go down there, but it’s pretty easy to get in. We unscrew the screws from the crawlspace door and open it hinge side first. The lock stays locked the whole time.

  “Let’s go, then,” I say.

  “What about Natalie?” he asks. “She knows more than any of us.”

  I cross my arms. “No she doesn’t.”

  Jimmy bites his bottom lip thinking about this. “She was there. She could know something you don’t. We should bring her,” he concludes.

  “I’ll see if she’ll come. Let’s get going now, before my parents think of something else for us to do.”

  “I’ll get Piper and Annie.” Jimmy heads for Piper’s.

  “Mom, I’m taking Natalie,” I call up the stairs.

  “Did you talk to your father?” my mother asks.

  “Uh-huh,” I mumble. I did talk to him—not about what he wanted to talk about, but still.

  Mom’s headed downstairs now like she’s on a mission. “Where are you going with Natalie?” she asks.

  “To 64.”

  My mother nods, her eyes watchful.

  She has to know I fell asleep. I’m expecting her to bawl me out. “We need to understand how the fire started.” I breeze by her, hoping to head her off.

  “Do we?” she asks.

  I look at her like her brains have seeped out of her ears onto the floor. “Of course,” I say.

  “There are lots of things that can start a fire. Bad wiring. Damaged lamps. Pennies in the fuse box,” my mother says. “64 building is old.”

  I stare at my mom stupidly. “But Mom, we have to know.”

  She looks away. “No need to go looking for trouble. It was an accident, Moose. It will all blow over soon enough.”

  Why wouldn’t my mother want to know the truth? Didn’t my dad tell her what Mrs. Mattaman said? If Bea calls Nat’s school, she could get kicked out.

  I look back at Natalie, who is still wearing yesterday’s clothes, although her hair is freshly combed and her face is clean.

  “Better to leave well enough alone,” my mom says.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “We don’t want to find out information we can’t handle.”

  I start to sweat. “Natalie didn’t have anything to do with this, Mom.”

  “Course not,” she mumbles, her eyes focused on her hands.

  “Natalie,” I ask, “do you know how the fire started last night?”

  Nat digs at her collarbone with her chin. “Number 2E, number 2E, number 2E.”

  “Leave her alone, Moose. She doesn’t know,” my mother says as Theresa knocks, then opens the door with Piper on her heels.

  “Come on, Nat.” Theresa makes quick circles with her hand. “We need you.”

  “Where c’mon Nat?” she mutters.

  “64 building,” I say.

  “Number 2E?” Nat asks.

  “Not exactly,” I say, but Nat is already putting buttons back in her button box one by one. She leaves it on the table and trots out after Theresa as if that’s where she wanted to go all along.

  Theresa is magic sometimes.

  My mother is still staring at us, not moving a muscle, barely even breathing . . . but she doesn’t stop me.

  • • •

  When we get down to the area under the grates behind 64 building, which we call Chinatown, Jimmy already has the hinges of the secret passageway door off. He and Annie are waiting for us to scoot inside.

  “Nice sweater,” Annie tells Piper as she hops into the opening. “Is it new?”

  “Yep,” Piper says. “You want one?”

  “Your mom’s not going to buy a sweater for me.”

  “Why not?” Piper asks.

  “Piper has loads of money,” Theresa informs Annie. “She can buy anything she wants.”

  “Is that so, Piper?” Annie asks.

  “Not hardly,” Piper says.

  Theresa nods behind her back.

  We haven’t been down here for a while. I forgot how wet and mildewy it is. Jimmy sneezes as we crawl on our hands and knees through the cobwebs to the part of the passageway directly under the Caconis’ place.

  One of our secret passageway rules is only whispering is allowed. That way we can hear what goes on in Mrs. Caconi’s apartment, but she can’t hear us. Today it sounds like Donny Caconi is talking on the phone outside the Caconi apartment.

  “Can anybody hear what he’s saying?” Jimmy asks.

  “That’s not nice. It’s Donny Caconi. He’s our friend,” Theresa says.

  Piper shrugs. “Sounds like maybe he owes somebody money,” she says.

  “He tried to borrow from my dad. He said he had a cash problem at his business,” Annie says.

  “What kind of a business does he have?” I ask.

  “Trucking,” Annie says.

  “I heard that too,” Theresa says. “Your dad said: Sorry buddy, we’re barely scraping by ourselves.”

  “Annie, how’s your dad’s hand, anyway?” I ask.

  “He says it doesn’t hurt much now.”

  “No chitchat. We have to get started,” Piper announces as if she’s the one who called the meeting. We always let her take charge, otherwise she storms off in a huff. “The first thing we got to do is find out what Natalie knows.”

  “I’ve asked her a bunch of times. I don’t think she knows anything,” I say.

  “Have you searched your apartment?” Piper asks.

  “No,” I say.

  “Why not?” Piper demands.

  “You’re right. That should be the first step,” Jimmy agrees.

  “Of course I’m right. Then we need to ask the cons,” Piper declares.

  “Why would we ask the cons?” Annie asks.

  “Could be hazing,” Piper suggests.

  “What’s that?” Theresa asks.

  “It’s where people in a club are mean to new members,” Annie says.

  “You think a con did this?” I ask.

  “Of course,” Piper says.

  “I still don’t get it.” Theresa’s bottom lip sticks out.

  “It could be someone’s harassing Moose’s dad because he’s a new warden,” Annie explains.

  “Cons couldn’t set fire to our apartment after they’re locked in for the night,” I say.

  “Who knows?” Piper answers.

  “But what’s the point of asking them? Why would a con admit what he did?” I ask.

  “They like to brag. Otherwise, how will they get credit?” Piper answers.

  “But wouldn’t it get them in trouble?” I ask.

  “They’d say if they did it . . . not who did it,” Jimmy offers.

  “They’re locked up,” Annie insists, sitting back on her heels. “It’s not possible.”

  “They have connections,” Piper explains. “They get things done in their own way. Why do you think Chudley got fired?”

  “He was helping the cons?” Jimmy asks. “I thought he was just incompetent.”

  “He was both,” Piper says.

  “Bad combination,” Jimmy says.

  “How would we ask the cons? Put a note in our laundry?” Annie asks.

  Theresa raises her hand, whips it left, then right. “I know.”

  “Theresa,” Piper calls on her.

  “Jimmy’s cockroach messengers.”

  Jimmy smiles like he just got his crystal set working. “I’ve got a few cockroaches I’m working with. You know how the cons trade cigarettes like money at night? After lockdown, they use cockroaches to get a cigarette from one cell to the next.”

  “That couldn’t be true or I’d know about it,” Piper says.

  “It is true.” Jimmy smiles, his eyes bright
. “My dad saw with his own eyes. They tie the cigarettes on their backs with thread and then the con who is supposed to get the delivery, he puts out a chunk of bread on the floor and the cockroach goes to it. Then he unties the cigarette from the cockroach’s back.”

  “So you’re going to tie a message to a cockroach’s back?” I ask.

  “Yep.”

  “How will you get your cockroach inside the cell house and then out again?” Piper wants to know.

  “Can’t,” Jimmy agrees.

  “What’s your plan, then?” Annie whacks a cobweb away from her arm.

  “The dock,” Piper says.

  Jimmy nods. He’s sitting cross-legged, fiddling with the screwdriver he used to get us in the secret passageway. “Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.”

  “First, let’s go to the Flanagans’ apartment and look around. Then we can meet back here to discuss what we find,” Piper says.

  “Won’t we get in trouble? Moose’s apartment could be dangerous,” Annie says.

  “Why? The fire’s already out,” Theresa says.

  “Yeah, but you might fall through the floor where it’s burned.” Annie again.

  “Ohhhh,” Theresa says.

  “Has anyone said not to go in there?” Piper asks as she crawls toward the Chinatown door.

  “No,” I say.

  “Better to ask forgiveness than permission. That’s what my uncle always says.” Piper waits for us to catch up.

  “Ouch!” Annie bumps her head on the ceiling. “Have you ever asked either?”

  “Never needed to,” Piper says. “It’s all about loyalty anyway. You take care of people and they’re loyal to you. Then it doesn’t matter if you have permission or not.”

  “That’s the Al Capone model,” I say.

  “More or less,” Piper says.

  “Wait.” Annie sits back, blocking my way. “We can’t all march in there at once. The dock tower guard will notice that for sure.”

  “Let’s go in teams,” I suggest.

  “Moose and I have to be first,” Piper says.

  “I’m next.” Theresa waves her arm in the air. “I have to be, in case you need something, right, Piper? Right? Natalie, you come with me.”

  For a second I worry about this. “What if Theresa can’t get Nat out of here?” I whisper to Annie.