CHAPTER 4
Bill drove us back to our house. We kids stood on the porch, and watched him talking to my Mom by the car.
"Mikey," I whispered, "what do you think?"
"About what?"
"Him, stupid. They make a good couple, don't they?"
He shrugged. "I guess so."
Bill drove off and we all went in the house. My Mom headed to the phone in the kitchen to call Mikey's mom.
We sat at the kitchen table, munching on candy bars, and listened to her side of the conversation.
"Hi Bella, it's Sharon."
What the heck kind of name is Bella? Was she the Bella of the Balla in some kind of Italian movie? I relayed this to Mikey and Mary. We started giggling.
"Yes, the kids are fine." She raised her finger to her pursed lips for us to be quiet.
"Yes, they made their statements. Oh," she said sympathetically, rolling her eyes at us, "I know Bella, it is upsetting, isn't it?"
I was glad we didn't go to Bella's house after the shooting and offer to show her the corpse.
"Yes. Edward picked a man out of the mug shot book. The officer said the man may be involved with some other Mafia-type executions."
We could hear Bella screaming over the phone, and my Mom held it away from her. We covered our ears and giggled.
"Now, Bella," she said, "calm down. CALM DOWN, BELLA!"
When Mom used The Voice of Authority, most people stood at attention. Bella was no exception.
Mom lowered her voice. We weren't supposed to hear this, but our ears were good, so we did.
"Bella, the officer said there is a slim chance that this man saw the kids in the field. There is also a slim chance he may return to the field or the neighborhood to try to prevent them from testifying."
Mikey and I looked at each other. This was getting interesting.
Bella shrieked over the phone this time, and even my Mom couldn't calm her down.
"Bella," she said, "I'm coming over. No, they'll be all right for a few minutes." She hung up the phone.
"Kids, I'm going to try to calm your Mom down. Why don't you fix yourselves some T.V. dinners and relax?"
Relax? With the Mafia after us? I hardly think so, Mom.
"Actually," she said thoughtfully, "why don't you kids stay for a sleep-over tonight? It's Friday, there's no school tomorrow, and I'll get your sleeping bags while I'm at your house, okay? Your Mom is so upset. This might take some of the pressure off her."
Pressure? What pressure does this woman have, other than to find a cure for the sore throat she probably has from all that screaming?
"Lock the door behind me, and DON'T let anyone in."
As she was leaving, Mrs. Katz arrived, dragging Cotton by his leash. He was incredibly glad to see us, ran in large circles around the living room with his leash still attached, and then stood at my feet, jumping high-jumps in the air, until I picked him up.
Mrs. Katz stayed for a while after my Mom left, asking nosey questions. I told her I didn't know anything, and Mikey looked comatose with his mouth hanging open. Then I guess she got tired of the third-degree and left. I flipped the dead-bolt on the door.
We had a good time at dinner. None of us liked T.V. dinners much, Mary said they tasted like cardboard that someone had peed on, so we made our own dinner.
Mikey cooked macaroni and cheese. Mary rummaged in the cupboard and found potato chips, a can of fruit cocktail and bread. I found sodas, bologna, salami and mayo in the refrigerator, and set up a sandwich assembly line. Mary handed me the stuff.
"Bread."
"Check."
"Mayo."
"Check."
"Bologna."
"Check."
"Salami."
"Check."
"Tomatoes." She looked perplexed.
"Ha, ha. Just kidding. We don't have any."
She slugged me.
There was a Simpson's special on that night, so we cleaned up our mess in the kitchen and sat in front of the T.V. sipping our sodas. Cotton watches T.V. too. He usually sits on my lap, but tonight he jumped from Mary to Mikey to me, and back again.
Then his ears flew up and he started barking. Looking out the window, I thought I saw a man slip into the shadows. I closed the curtains and we went back to watching T.V..
My Mom came in a few minutes later, dragging two backpacks and two sleeping bags. Dumping them on the floor, she said, "Here you go, kids." She looked really tired, and I offered to make her some dinner.
"That's okay," she said, smiling, "thanks, honey. I'll have something later on." I frowned. My Mom didn't eat enough, and she was almost as skinny as I was.
We went to my room, and started arranging the sleeping bags on the floor. First mine went down, then Mikey's, then Mary's. I headed for the kitchen for snacks.
"Hi, Mom." She sat drinking coffee at the kitchen table.
"Hi, honey."
I looked at her sitting there, looking so lonely, and I gave her a hug."Mom, why don't you sleep over with us in my room? It would be fun."
"No thanks, honey," she said, and her face screwed up and The Waterworks started.
Hugging her again, I told her, "Don't worry, Mom. Everything will be okay." Where was Friendly Cop with his handkerchiefs? Her tears were wetting my neck, but I didn't care.
"I love you, honey," she said.
"I love you too, Mom."
Breaking away, I grabbed three more sodas, some chips and some candy bars.
The phone rang, and I answered. It was Friendly Cop Bill, asking how I was. "Just fine, sir," I replied. He asked to speak to my Mom, so I got her.
"Hello?" she said. She started smoothing her hair, "Why hello Bill. Yes, they're fine."
I waved good-bye to her.
"Don't make too much noise, now, okay?"
"We won't Mom. We're just going to have a club meeting."
"You kids have a club?"
"Yeah, it's kind of fun."
"That's nice dear." And she went back to talking to Bill. YES!!
We decided to have our club meeting in my teepee. I have this Indian teepee set up in my room, and there was room for all three of us in there. We sat cross-legged, munching on chips. Cotton sat in the middle, hoping for handouts.
I took a swig of my soda and began. "The sixth meeting of the Dream Club is now called to order." They looked at me seriously. "The first order of business," I continued, "is to find a new location for the Club Headquarters."
We sat for a minute, thinking.
"How about here in the teepee?" Mary suggested.
"Hmmm. Sounds good." It was close to lots of snacks and was safe from the Mafia Guys.
"Okay," I said, "let's take a vote. All for temporary relocation of the Club Headquarters to the teepee, raise your hands."
I wasn't sure if Mary knew what relocation meant, but her hand went up with the rest of us.
"Done," I said. "Anyone have any new business?"
Mikey raised his hand. "Stinky wants to join the Club."
"Ewwww," said Mary, and we all groaned. Was that kid capable of having a thought, much less a dream? And how could he join us in the teepee with those smelly feet? The thought of Stinky and his feet in our teepee made me laugh, and then we all started laughing.
"Tell him," I said, trying to be serious, "we're thinking about it." Mary was still laughing. She had a funny laugh, kind of a snort, and we all started in again.
When the meeting was over, we got ready for bed and crawled in our sleeping bags. We turned off the lights, I grabbed my flashlight, and we told ghost stories until Mary got scared when I held the flashlight under my chin and made an "ooooo" noise.
We were quiet for a few minutes, lying in our bags.
Mary spoke. "Eddie, why do you suppose that man killed that other man?"
I had wondered this myself. "I don't know, Mary. I really don't know."
Mikey sat up. "Isn't the Mafia into gambling and stuff like t
hat? Maybe the guy owed him money."
Mary said, "What's gambling?"
He replied, "Card playing for money."
"Oh." She was silent for a while. "Eddie, where do people go when they die?"
What was this kid, a question machine or something? She always seemed to ask me questions I couldn't answer.
"I don't know, Mary. I guess they go to heaven or something."
Mikey snorted. "HE sure didn't go to heaven. Mafia guys don't go to heaven. They're too bad. They do bad things."
Mary sniffed, and I could tell she was crying. "You mean, if I do bad things, I won't go to heaven?"
I had had enough Waterworks for one day, so I told her, "You'll get to heaven, Mary. Just don't join the Mafia."
She giggled and then we all joined in.
The Dream Club #1 - Corpse Page 4
