“—you forget to eat dinner!” Angus and Eva finished her rhyme.
“Well, what do we want? Who has an idea?”
We heard a cluck or two, and one of the Athletes jumped onto the table. The bird shook herself. A puff of dust settled below her.
“We’re not going to eat you,” Angus said, and he lifted the hen down. The hen’s chicken feet were stenciled in the dust.
Lil stared at the prints with a slight grin on her face. “Look at that. Cool,” she said. Then getting back to the matter at hand, she said, “Well, we always have eggs.”
We all heard someone call out. “Am I too late for dinner?”
Timing is everything.
Robert Deal came riding into our yard. The first thing I noticed was a new headlight on his bike. The second was the pizza box—make that three pizza boxes—bungeed to the back rack of his bike.
“Hey, Robert!” I called. “How’s the bike?”
“I love this bike,” he said. “I love it so much I brought you all a thank-you dinner. No anchovies!” He greeted our dogs first, then he untied the boxes and set them on our table.
“Pizza!” cried Eva. “Angus, don’t you love pizza more than eggs?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“Wait, wait. You brought us dinner?” Lil said. “You didn’t have to—”
“Thanks!” I said. I was freakishly loud. I didn’t want Lil to have a chance to go into her we’re-fine-on-our-own mode. Something smelled seriously good—better than eggs—and I didn’t want it leaving the yard.
“You guys ever go to the Old Stone Oven in East Elm City?” Robert asked. “Best pizza I know of. And they’re still up and running.”
Vince sighed. “Oh. Ye-s-s.”
“And you biked it all the way here?” Lil said.
“Yeah. I tried not to sway,” he said. “It’s probably still hot because, well, what isn’t hot today?” He threw open the boxes on the picnic table and I think Lil understood there’d be no turning down this gift.
Robert gave us the latest news from the open road while we ate. He’d seen two government-aid trucks posted along the highway.
“Oh, Mom and Dad said the same,” I told Robert. “There is fuel somewhere.”
“Genius,” Vince said.
“I just really want Mom and Dad to get that tank filled up.” Eva leaned on her elbows and pouted. Robert slid a piece of pizza under her nose, and she snapped right out of her funk.
“I was thinking about them,” Robert said. “What’s the news?”
“They’re still stuck. Can’t really get Mom south to the trains, and even if they could, it doesn’t seem to be a sure thing. So they’re still waiting it out.”
“And staying together,” Lil added.
“Man, I’m sorry.”
“But we’re fine,” Lil said. “We are so used to this. There’s nothing Mom and Dad can do for us that we can’t do for ourselves.” I wasn’t so sure that was true. But I knew she was trying to hammer home a message to Robert: We don’t need help.
“Yes. You seem very self-sufficient,” he said.
I drifted then. Took a look around our property—the part I could see from where I sat. Raspberries were popping off the vines along the fence next to Mr. Spivey’s house. In fact, we were wasting them. Mom wasn’t here to make jam. None of us had taken the time to pick them—except for Mr. Spivey, who happened to be stealing from us through the slats of the fence at that very moment. The canes bobbed as he nabbed handfuls of fruit.
What’s a few berries between neighbors? I could almost hear Dad say.
Lil gave me a poke in the arm. “Where are you, Dew?”
“Oh. Spacing out,” I said.
“Hey, that’s my job,” said Vince, and everyone laughed.
I left my real thought behind. “I was just thinking,” I said, “that we should pick raspberries for dessert.”
There was a rustling sound just over the fence. Then Mr. Spivey’s screen door slammed shut.
Soon Robert Deal was lifting Angus up so he could reach the highest raspberry canes. Later, he put the leftover pizza in our fridge for us and folded the box down into the fire pit. He had an easy way about him. Mom would have said he was a “comfortable sort.”
Lil wanted to trace outlines of the twins on brown paper that night. It had something to do with her mural, but I was just glad it would entertain the twins. She said she’d run them a shower afterward. I wanted to clean up the shop a bit, dust being the enemy of all things with moving parts.
Robert came to the Bike Barn with Vince and me, and the dogs, of course. “Doesn’t look like things have slowed down any in here,” he said.
“Buried in bikes,” said Vince.
“Well, actually we cleared a bunch today,” I said. “But then we took in a bunch more.”
“Oh, and you stocked up on parts. That was smart.”
I told him about my trip to Bocci Bike. He told me they’d sold him the new headlight and had admired his Marriss-built bike. I made a note to tell Dad about that.
Robert seemed to like being in the shop. Of course, he spent a while just patting our dogs. But then he helped us straighten up. He even ran the Shop-Vac for us. Vince and I moved away from the noise and stood out in the paddock under the yellow lamp and sorted the next day’s orders.
Robert helped us lay out parts with order slips for upcoming jobs. (It was my latest method for getting a jump on things every day.) He seemed truly interested in bikes. He stood reading Dad’s One-Page Bible for Bike Mechanics and followed it up with a slow-breaking grin. “This is great,” he said, tapping a finger on the paper. “Eight rules, and they all make sense.”
“That’s how we learned,” I said.
“And we used cheat sheets,” Vince said.
Robert laughed. “Like there’s a way to cheat at bike repairs!”
“Sort of,” I said. I opened the bench drawer, reached inside, and pulled out a few three-by-five cards. “Our dad made these up for us for the most common repair jobs.” I flipped through them. “You’ll have to meet our dad someday,” I said. “When the crunch is over.”
Together, the three of us slid the big door shut and locked up the shop. We thanked Robert for the pizza supper and the leftovers. (I knew what I was having for breakfast.) He suddenly remembered and gave us back the flashlight I’d lent him.
I felt bad about just one thing after he left. I hadn’t asked him how his job hunt was going. But by the next morning, I knew.
22
“HEY, DEWEY.” ROBERT DEAL STOOD AT THE OPEN Bike Barn door. The morning sun wasn’t quite over the trees. Vince was taking Angus and Eva to camp. Lil was—where else?—out back of the barn.
“Oh, hey, Robert!” I said. Then I worried. Why was he here? “Oh my gosh, did something happen to your bike?”
“No. The bike is fine. I’m not even sure why I’m here,” he said, and laughed. “Dewey, I don’t know if you can understand this, but I am a displaced person. I need to work. I like to work. I started out on the highway again this morning on the old job hunt. But the truth is, there’s nothing left for me to look at right now. I’m okay for money for a while. So…would you mind if I hung around your shop today? I’ll—I’ll try to help. I’ll at least stay out of the way. I’m sort of mechanically inclined, and—”
“Be my guest!” I said. “Where do you want to start?”
“Hey, that’s up to you, Boss Man. I’m the drone.”
“Well, here. Disassemble this bearing set,” I said. I handed him a cone wrench. “The proper tool for the job,” I said. “It’s Rule Two.” I tapped Dad’s list with my knuckles. “There might even be a cheat sheet in the drawer. But basically, get it apart without undue force. Then put the parts in the degreasing bath one at a time as you separate them.”
“Okay,” said Robert.
“When they’re clean, lay them out on the toweling in the same order they came apart. That’s part of Rule Five. Study the problem. Seeing h
ow it works helps. Trust me. And if you have questions, just ask me.”
“Or me!” said Vince as he came through the door. “Hi, Robert. You hanging around today?”
“Yeah,” said Robert. “I’ve always liked taking stuff apart. I was thinking you guys could teach me how to put something together again.”
“Cool. An apprentice,” Vince said. “Looks just like a willing victim.” He slinked out to the paddock.
I followed him out. “Hey, Vince. Did you bring a spoke wrench out here?” I did a quick search of the grass for anything shiny.
“Nope. I haven’t trued up a wheel in days. That’s you,” he said, and for once he seemed very sure.
“Hmm. Well, did you use that fifteen-speed gear set? We had one set out last night.”
Vince shook his head. “No. I didn’t do that job. You always think it’s me when you can’t find something.” He stood up with his arms wide. Gave me a sideways grin. “Wanna have me X-rayed?”
“No. Forget it,” I said. I scanned the paddock one last time. I had no time to hunt. We owned half a dozen spoke wrenches and I had a couple of more gear sets on the shelf inside. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I hadn’t set it aside. Maybe it’d turn up later.
Through the morning, we could hear Lil banging on the barn. I knew she’d cut out a bunch of paper tracings last night—Angus’s and Eva’s—all in different flying positions. There had been a mad search for a staple gun early that morning. She had to be tacking them up now. Maybe she would spray today and be done with my compressor. Every so often I’d hear the scaffold thump on the barn wall. It was a heavy old thing and it had to be all she could do to move it by herself. But would Lilly Marriss ask for help? No.
Vince left to pick up Angus and Eva, and Robert and I went to the house for lunch and iced tea. Lil came running in, calling my name.
“Dewey! Hey, hey! Dewey!” She stopped in her tracks when she saw us. “Oh. Robert,” she said, and with each word her face seemed to drop a little more. “You’re here again.”
“Hi, Lilly. How’s it going?” Robert said.
“Okay. Fine,” she said. I pushed a glass of tea her way and she took it. “So what brings you back again so soon?” Lil said.
“Umm…umm.” I tucked a bite of pizza into my cheek. “The job hunt stinks. He’s hanging out with Vince and me today. He’s helping. It’s great!”
“I hope it’s all right,” Robert said, looking at Lil. “I mean, with everyone.”
Lil didn’t answer.
“Hey, what were you going to tell me?” I asked her.
“Oh,” she said, “it was just—well, I’m getting ready to spray again.”
“Cool,” I said. I grinned at her. “When do I get the compressor back?”
She shook a finger at me. “We’ll talk about that tonight, when we’re folding laundry. And we will be folding laundry, Dew.”
That afternoon, I barely saw Angus and Eva.
Vince checked up on them at some point and gave me the short answer. “Painting with Lil. Everyone is happy.” That was good enough for me. I kept on working.
Robert was good new energy for the Bike Barn. He had questions, so we talked, and Vince even moved his bike stand closer to the paddock door just to listen in and comment now and then. In the late afternoon, I took a quick look through the spindles. I just liked knowing what tomorrow had in store.
I mumbled as I read the names and jobs. “Fleming, brake shoes. Dominico, shifters. Gilmartin—blech. Gilmartin.”
Vince laughed. “Tough customer,” he told Robert, and I nodded sort of absently.
I told Robert, “He called us rinky-dink coffee canners ’cause the shop’s in a barn and we put the money in a tin.”
“Oh, that’s just rude,” Robert said.
“And wrong,” said Vince. “Not a coffee can. A peppermint tin.”
Robert laughed. “And you keep milk-and-egg-money in a teapot,” he said. “That makes you a teapotter, too, then.” He stuck a finger at me and said, “Teapotter.”
We were laughing and working when Lil came up and slapped her palm on the door. “Hey, you guys,” she said. The three of us looked up. The twins were right behind her. “Plan to knock off pretty soon. Vince, I want a pit fire. I’m making chili and I don’t want to heat up the house. Dew, I want the clothes brought off the line. Don’t miss the ones on the fence rail. We’ll fold while we cook.”
Being the parents, I thought.
“On it,” Vince said.
“Hi, Vince! Hi, Dewey! Oh, hi, Robert Deal,” Eva said. She carried a roll of brown paper against her chest. Angus had dirty paintbrushes in his hands. Rainbow-colored drips ran down his wrist. “We made our own mur-wall,” Eva said.
“Mural,” said Lil.
“Well.” Robert looked at them expectantly. “Let’s see!” he said.
Angus dropped the brushes in the dirt. They spread the brown paper out and began to explain.
“We’re painting Mom and Dad in the truck, right here,” Angus said. “I did this part.” He’d made a boxy truck with a long row of wheels underneath it.
“And over here is where they’re going to get diesel,” Eva said. She pointed to a square with a long hose coming out of it. “Here is the highway, and this is our house…”
Robert listened to all of it, then said, “I see. It’s very nice.”
“But our sister is making a real mur-wall on the barn,” Eva said. “And she has a scaffold and—”
“And tomorrow she’s going to move it one more time and then we can climb right in the hay door! From outdoors!” Angus pointed madly. Eva jumped up and down. I thought they were both going to hyperventilate.
“Robert, are you staying for dinner?” Eva asked.
A beat went by before Lil said, “You’re welcome to stay.”
“Great, then!” I said. I decided to answer for him.
“Don’t forget,” Lil said. “The laundry and the pit. Pretty quick now.”
Vince had a flame going by the time I’d cleaned up and brought the laundry basket to the picnic table. I set the mountain of clothes down gently. Balanced it with my hands. Robert snapped a T-shirt off the top.
“No, no, no.” Lil picked the shirt out of his hands. “You can’t fold our laundry.”
“Bet I can,” he said.
Lil smiled only slightly. “But you may not,” she said.
It turned out he might not chop onions, carrots, or green peppers either. I thought she was making a stupid show of the whole we-can-do-it-on-our-own thing.
Way to make the “comfortable sort” uncomfortable, Lil.
Robert didn’t linger after supper. The minute he was far enough down our driveway to be out of hearing range, Lil turned to me. We were still working on the laundry. She shook a pair of my own boxers at me.
“So, Dewey, what gives with Robert being in the shop all day?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is he playing Mr. Good Samaritan here? Does he think he’s rescuing us?”
“Rescuing us from what?” I said. “He’s learning stuff. And he’s pretty good, too.”
“Look, I know you are managing the Bike Barn, but you need to talk to me about changes like that.”
“Like what? Letting a guy hang around and help for the day?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Um…he’s coming back to hang around tomorrow,” I said.
Vince cracked up.
“You!” Lil pointed a finger at him. “Go get Angus and Eva started on dishes. And tell them I said not too much soap. The counter was all slippery this morning.”
Vince took a stack of clean clothes into the house with him. Lil sat, giving me a piercing look from across the table.
“What?” I said.
“I’m serious,” she said. “You’re in charge of the shop, but don’t forget I’m in charge of everything.” She drew a wide circle in the air with a sweep of her arm. “So I can’t ignore what’s happening in that barn. If Robert’s com
ing back, then let’s be clear that he’s not babysitting us, and we’re not his community-service project. We are doing just fine.” She snapped a towel out of the laundry and gave it a firm folding. “He’s a bike mechanic. And you need to pay him.”
I think I was probably curling a lip at her, just trying to wrap my head around all those words. I shrugged and answered, “Okay.”
“Good. Next thing,” she said. “All those bikes in the shop and the paddock…everywhere. It looks like it’s gaining on you. Maybe it’s time to slow it down.”
I stared back at my sister. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Think about it. Vince has been stressed out—”
“He was! But I made an adjustment for that!” I stood up. “Besides, I don’t make him work,” I said. “Not ever.”
“Right. But he feels like he’s supposed to be there whenever you are. That’s most of the time. Also, do you know what day it is, Dew?”
I probably gave her a blank look while I thought about it.
“Friday,” she said. “And Sea Camp’s over. Angus and Eva will be home all day from now on. I’m not doing all their care by myself.”
“So! I’m ready for that,” I said. (I wasn’t.)
“Dewey, I think Dad is worried about you and the shop.”
“He said so? To you?”
“He said it to you. Didn’t you hear? He wants you to back off and be a kid! Have a little bit of a summer. We’re going to be okay. The work will still be there when Dad gets back to help you.”
“Right! So why not log it in? Most of those bikes aren’t rideable anyway, Lil. People don’t like the wait. But they can’t walk those heaps all the way to Bocci Bike and Rec in Sand Orchard. When Dad gets back, we’ll get through the orders all the faster. Besides, people count on us. Especially now. Do you have any idea how many bikes Vince and I have put back on the road since Mom and Dad left?”
“Dew, you’ve been awesome. But I’m supposed to look out for you, and—”
“Look out for me? I don’t need you looking out for me! What am I? Another five-year-old? I’m managing that shop while you’re hanging off a scaffold—”
Crunch Page 8
