The Graham Cracker Plot

by Shelley Tougas

  “It was rainy and cold the first time you asked, and it’s still rainy and cold,” I said. “I could cut your bangs.”

  “Remember when we used to play horse race and I’d always win?” He looked so proud of himself.

  “Remember when we used to play arm wrestling and I’d always win?” That shut him up for about ten minutes. Then he said, “Whatcha want to do?”

  “My grandma’s a stylist so I’m naturally good at hair cutting.” This sounded like a good idea. His hair was shaggy and gross, and I’d been thinking I could go to beauty school and open a shop with Grandma. She could work on the old people, and I’d work on the young people. We’d be both hip and classic and make a fortune.

  “I’m bored. Why are you just sitting around?” Graham stood on the couch and bounced. “I wanna go outside or play a game. Mom won’t let me use the computer when she’s not here because she’s afraid I’ll give it a virus. But we could guess her password. Wanna guess her password? I bet it’s Maggie. That was her first dog. Half the people in the world use their pet’s name for a password.”

  I crossed my arms and said, “You need your bangs cut.”

  “My mom wouldn’t like it.” He jumped to the floor and dug around in his pocket. “I’m going to show you something that my uncle gave me. It’s super cool. And I don’t tell people about it, but because we’re trapped for a whole week, we’re going to need it.”

  Graham opened his fist and showed me an old penny.

  “So what?” I said. “You can’t buy anything with a penny.”

  “It’s not just a plain old penny. Look at the date on it—1919. It’s old. Really, really old!”

  “So?”

  He pushed his bangs back and sighed. “It’s so old it’s become an Idea Coin. You know my uncle who lives in Michigan? Well, he gave this coin to me when we went to see him. My uncle said an old coin with the same numbers—like this, with a nineteen and a nineteen—gets special powers because they’ve been in so many pockets and purses. It’s picked up the idea energy from thousands of people over a hundred years. Hold it in your hand, squeeze it real tight against your head, and a cool idea will come to you.”

  “Your uncle told you that?”

  “Yup.”

  “Were you bugging him about being bored?”

  “Daisy, it works! Every time I use it I get the coolest ideas. Remember when we had that blizzard and I got you outside and we made an igloo and it was super cool? Even you said it was the best snow day ever. Well, the Idea Coin told me to knock on your door that day.”

  “You sure it wasn’t your mom?” Graham believes everything. Once Abbey Harris told him she’d be his friend for a whole week if he gave her five dollars. I warned him she was full of it, but he didn’t listen. He stole five dollars from his mom’s wallet and gave it to Abbey. She ran off with the money and told her friends and they all laughed at him.

  “Nope. It was the coin. You just can’t overuse it because it drains the idea energy. Don’t use it to decide between playing a video game and watching a movie. Save it for desperate times. And I think this is a desperate time. Here, put it in your hand.”

  I took the penny from his fist.

  “Squeeze it tight. You’re right-handed, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay. Keep it in your right hand. Now close your eyes. And breathe deep. Are your eyes closed?”

  “They’re closed.”

  “Are you squeezing it tight?”

  “I’m squeezing it tight.”

  “Okay. Now don’t open your eyes. Slowly lift your right hand and hold it against your forehead.”

  “It’s against my forehead.”

  “Not your fist,” he said. “Press the actual penny against your actual forehead and hold it there.”

  “Fine.”

  “Now the Idea Coin will soak into your brain. Give it some time. Just open your mind.” He was so close I could smell his cereal breath. “Okay, Daisy. Tell me the idea.”

  I didn’t give it any soaking time. I blurted out, “I should cut your bangs!”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, half of Graham’s hair was gone. It happened so fast. I did it just like Grandma. We were in the bathroom, and I held a chunk of hair between two fingers and snip, snip, snip. I used scissors from a kitchen drawer. Like the living room floor in our trailer, his bangs went up and down and back up, a tiny hair roller coaster, so I had to cut more to fix it. Then the bangs were too short and the rest of his hair was hanging down his neck like strings of spaghetti, so I trimmed that up, too. I figured shorter hair would bring out the blue in his eyes. But it wasn’t level, either, so I had to keep cutting.

  “Maybe I should call my grandma.” I put the scissors on the sink and tried combing the tuffs of hair into a smooth cap of blondness. “Is your mom going to be mad?”

  He shrugged. “The Idea Coin is never wrong! Besides, I don’t care. It’s kinda cool.”

  “But will she be mad?”

  “Yup. She’ll freak.” He turned his head from side to side and squinted his eyes. “I look like I’m in a rock band. I should play guitar or drums. Or tuba! You can use a tuba to make fart sounds. Did you know that?”

  I begged Graham to wear a baseball cap for a week, until my mom got home, and he promised he would.

  * * *

  At five o’clock, Kari pushed the door open with her hip and stepped inside. The cool spring air came in with her. In one hand, she had a takeout pizza. In the other was her cell phone, pressed against her ear. “Just let me get the kids settled, okay? I know. I know. I’ll call you right back.”

  She put the phone in her purse and pulled two plates from the cupboard. She didn’t even blink at Graham’s baseball cap. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff that just exploded. So here’s dinner. I need you two to stay out of trouble. I’m going out for a while.”

  Graham frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “Out.”

  My stomach rumbled when she opened the pizza box. Large pepperoni. We’d had frozen pepperoni pizza at lunch, but you can never have too much pepperoni pizza. I could eat it every meal of every day.

  “Why? It’s Monday night.” Graham sat down at the table while Kari poured two glasses of milk and put plates in front of us.

  “Because.” Her eyes looked red, like maybe she’d been crying. She wasn’t wearing her uniform, so she had stopped somewhere and changed.

  Graham crossed his arms and stared at her. “Because is not an answer!”

  “I don’t have to explain. It involves adult stuff, okay? I just need you two to take care of yourselves and stay out of trouble. You can watch a movie. Brush your teeth and hit the pillows by ten.”

  “But there’s no school tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be home about ten, and your butts better be in bed. Mrs. Mundez is home if you need her, or you can call my cell.”

  Then she patted my shoulder, kissed the top of Graham’s baseball cap, and closed the door behind her.

  I grabbed a slice and chowed. Graham stared at the table.

  “What’s wrong? I thought you were hungry.”

  One by one, he picked off the pepperonis and ate them.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked again.

  Graham said, “She had that voice.”

  I closed my eyes and replayed the last few minutes in my mind. He was right. “Yeah, she did. You think it was the broke-up-with-the-boyfriend voice? Or the-car-needs-a-new-engine voice?”

  “Not sure. Maybe the lost-my-job voice.”

  “Ohhhhh, that’s baaaaaad,” I said. “Then you’ll have to get money for bills from the County.”

  Graham agreed. “That’s the worst.”

  “Was it her drinking voice?”

  Graham poured his milk in the sink, rinsed the glass, and filled it with water. He gulped it down. “I don’t like milk. I’d rather have water or berry bonanza juice. Wanna play Crazy Eights?”

  This time I didn’t repeat the q
uestion. I actually felt bad for old Graham Cracker. So I said sure, and I won four hands in a row.

  DEAR JUDGE HENRY,

  That night, I had a horrible dream. The Chemist was walking through a long hall and two people jumped him and started pounding on him. I ran and yelled the weirdest thing. “Crickets in your eye holes!” The jumpers turned around. It was my mom and Alex. I jumped on Alex’s back and pulled at his ring of hair. Mom kept pounding on the Chemist until there was nothing but a wrinkled orange uniform, like a towel tossed to the floor after a shower.

  “What’d you do?” I screamed at her.

  “He’ll be back in time for your high school graduation.” She crossed her arms. “And you, little Miss Dawn Dawn! What did you do?”

  “Huh?”

  “To Alex! What did you do to Alex?”

  I looked down and realized I’d turned Alex into a turkey. Mom screamed, “Alex!” while I screamed, “Daddy!”

  Graham shook me awake. “You were having a bad dream.”

  I sat up and breathed in and out. Deep and calm.

  “Man, your breath smells like pee and rot!” He scooted away and plugged his nose.

  “Shut up, Graham!”

  “Pee and rot and toe slime.” He pretended to slide off the bed and pass out on the floor.

  I threw my pillow on his face. “Jerk.”

  He didn’t move, and I didn’t move. I pulled up the sheet and wrapped it around me. The wind was blowing hard. I could hear the swings creaking and squeaking from the play dump. Far away, a dog barked.

  Graham sat up and balanced the pillow on his head. “My mom’s not home.”

  “What time is it?”

  “I bet if I told a creepy story I could make you scared.”

  “What time is it? Simple question!”

  “Midnight.”

  We sat in the dark for a few minutes, Graham balancing the pillow on his head and me tracing the edge of the sheet with my pinky.

  “Let’s go to the play dump,” Graham said.

  “Okay.”

  I changed into my jeans and a sweatshirt, and pulled on my spring coat. I looked through the bathroom window. The moon lit the River Estates Mobile Home Park almost as good as if the security lights were working. The spot where Kari parked her car was empty. It seemed like her parking spot was always empty.

  * * *

  Graham and I stood on the swings and clutched the chains. It didn’t take much motion from us to get them swinging. The wind was howling. We could see the park’s entrance through the trailers to our right and Graham’s place was straight ahead. It would be a quick dodge inside once we noticed headlights.

  “You know, this isn’t the kind of babysitting my mom was planning,” I said.

  “Do you think Frank the Creeper is awake? His lights are on.” Frank had long biker hair and gray eyes and a cobra tattooed on his arm. He never said “Hello” or “Hey, there” or “What’s up.” He just gave a little head lift when he saw someone, and he turned away and spit tobacco juice. Frank the Creeper was disgusting.

  “Should we call your mom’s cell?”

  “You were saying something about a turkey when you were dreaming. What the heck kind of nightmare was that?”

  He was trying to swing faster than me, so I pulled hard on the chains to speed up. I said, “I don’t remember. Dreams don’t make sense.”

  “I bet I could tell you a story about a ghost turkey and make you scared.”

  “I bet I could tell you a story about Frank the Creeper and make you scared.”

  “Bet you couldn’t.”

  “Should we call your mom’s cell?”

  Graham let go of the swing and leaped into the air, landing on his feet. Then the swing hit him in the butt. He pretended it knocked him over, and he rolled through the dirt and onto the weed patch.

  “Ouch,” he said. “There’s a thistle in here.”

  “Graham! Should we call Kari’s cell? Or should we call my mom’s cell? Or somebody’s cell?”

  Graham picked weeds from his hair. He held up a dandelion. “I used to think this was a daisy until you showed me that picture.”

  “Dandelions are weeds. Daisies are flowers. I wouldn’t name myself after a weed!”

  “I wanna new name, too,” he said. “Like Longdragon. Or Roger. When I move to Canada, I’m going to call myself Roger F. Longdragon. The F will be for Ford.”

  I jumped off the swing, landed on my feet, and then did a ballet spin to get out of the swing’s way. I dropped on the ground next to him, sat with folded legs, and loud-whispered, “Graham. This is me screaming, but I can’t scream because people are sleeping. So pretend I’m screaming. Should we call my mom or my grandma or your mom? Now answer me or I’ll scream. And Frank the Creeper will wake up.” I made an evil but quiet laugh. “And he’ll chop us into pieces … and eat us!”

  Graham popped the top off the dandelion and threw it at me. It hit me near my eye.

  “Nice,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Graham! Answer me!”

  “Jeez. I don’t know. Why should I know?”

  “She’s your mom. That’s why.”

  “Here’s the way I see it. We could call my mom. But we both know she’s at the Rattlesnake and can’t remember where she dropped her phone. We could call your mom. But we both know she’s slobbering on Alex and they’ve got their phones turned off for their slobber time. We could call your grandma, but she’d freak and call the County.”

  “Oh.”

  “That’s why I’m running away soon.”

  I sighed. “When’s the big move?”

  “I should’ve left already. I’d be a horse trainer by now. Or maybe a forklift driver.”

  “Where this time?”

  “To Canada,” he said. Graham sat up and threw a rock at his trailer. The bang echoed in the night. “I’m pissed at my mom. Extra pissed because I bet she got fired. She called in sick three times last week so she could hang out with that guy she met. Ryan? Brian? Something like that.”

  “I’m pissed at my mom, too,” I said. “But why Canada?”

  “Because I want to live in a cabin and learn how to hunt and fish. I’ll grow carrots because that’s the only vegetable I like. I’m not going to school because I never learn anything anyway. I’m going to climb trees and make my own flour and ride a huge horse through the forest. I’ll eat cinnamon bread with honey on it every day.”

  “What’s wrong with being an American farmer?”

  “Because I’ll be an outlaw. When you run away, you’re an outlaw. And it’s easy for outlaws to hide in Canada. There’s so many trees. Millions. The police don’t go into the woods on account of the grizzly bears.”

  “So you want to take your chances with grizzly bears?”

  “I’m going to train them.” He sighed, like I was stupid. “And just in case, I’ll have a gun. I’ll need one for hunting anyway.”

  “You like hamBEARger?” Hilarious! I laughed my tail off.

  “Ha-ha. You’re funny as a math test.” He rubbed his very short hair.

  I said, “Cabins don’t have water and stuff we’re used to. If cabins had those things, they’d be called houses.”

  “Look around, Daisy. These are just rusty metal cabins.”

  I pointed at his place. “Your rusty cabin has a microwave and a dishwasher and Internet! And lights. Lights are important.”

  “Haven’t you heard of solar power? I will build some panels for the cabin and use the sun for electricity. Boom. Done.”

  I pulled three long weeds and started to braid them. My butt was cold, but I liked the night air and the wind. I felt more awake than during the day.

  “You should come, Daisy.”

  “No thanks.”

  “You really want to live with Alex and watch him slobber-kiss your mom? And go to our stupid school where everyone’s stupid? And play in this play dump? And live in a town where parents go to the Rattlesnake Bar and G
rill and act like beer zombies?”

  “The Rattlesnake has the best mozzarella sticks.” My stomach started to clench like a fist.

  “Hah. Wait until you find out your mom is hanging out there again. It’ll happen.”

  “My mom doesn’t drink!”

  He laughed all crazy and rolled around in the grass. “Duh! That’s the point! Neither does mine. It’s called drinking again.” He threw another dandelion at me. “And guess what? Canada is one of only three countries in the world where alcohol is illegal.”

  “Really?” I squinted. “How would you know?”

  “I read! Sometimes Mom brings home the newspaper from the break room at work.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I have to see the Chemist.”

  “You can’t see him for six months! That’s like forever!”

  “Aaron, the main guard, cut the ban to three months,” I said. “I think he likes my grandma.”

  “There’s only one time when three months isn’t an eternity. Summer!”

  My chin was shaking. I felt a little sweaty, and the wind turned my sweat cold. I shivered. My stomach hurt from the nightmare and all of Graham’s yackity-yack Canada and yackity-yack Rattlesnake Bar and Grill.

  Graham stood up. He had a couple more rocks, and he threw them one at a time at the play dump sign. Every time he missed, he stepped closer. I figured he’d have to be a foot away from the sign to actually hit it.

  Then something flashed in the weeds where Graham had been sitting. Just a glimmer. I crawled on my hands and knees and saw the glimmer again. I rubbed my hands on the ground until I felt a penny. I squeezed it in my fist and held my hand to where the moonlight shined just so. I squinted and read the numbers. “Nineteen nineteen.” The Idea Coin had rolled out of Graham’s pocket.

  Then, Judge Henry, my stomach clenched again—so hard that I pressed one hand over my belly and the hand with the Idea Coin against my head. It was like cold water pouring over my body. I shivered. I wrapped both my arms around myself and tried to squeeze away the cold. The coin didn’t come off with my hand. I could feel it stuck to my forehead.

  The cold turned to a wave of heat. The warmth pressed through me, and all I could hear was the wind and the TV from Frank the Creeper’s trailer. And that’s when the idea shot out of the coin and into my brain. The Chemist. Me. Canada. Graham. Trees. Carrots. Cinnamon bread with honey.