Laugh Till You Cry

by Joan Lowery Nixon

When he thought of the word father, he realized again how much he missed his own. Suddenly he had an idea.

  Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, by interrogating the members of the court who are still left standing—who, I must admit, aren’t many—I have been able to prove to you that Hamlet was not in his right mind. In fact, we might say that he was one Danish short of a complete breakfast. He had the chance to keep on being Prince of Denmark, but he really blew it. Because of a murderous uncle, a dishonest mother, and a ghostly father, he—

  “Here’s a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for you,” Alma said, so close to Cody’s ear that he jumped.

  It wasn’t until after dinner that Cody had a chance to visit with his grandmother.

  “I told you I’d help you with the paper you need to write about Hamlet,” she reminded him.

  He helped fluff up her pillows and asked, “Do you feel like it, Grandma? Are you sure you aren’t too tired?”

  “As a matter of fact, I feel much better,” she said. “I think this new medication is just what I needed. I helped Hayden with his theme, and now it’s your turn.”

  Cody looked at her in surprise. “When was Hayden here?”

  “We did our work over the telephone,” she answered. “Hayden called while you were helping clean the kitchen. Now, what’s your topic?”

  “How Hamlet avenges his father’s murder in the last scene of the play.”

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs. Norton said. “I think you’d better pick another topic. That’s the one Hayden chose. I can’t give you both the same advice.”

  Cody swallowed what he wanted to say. Hayden had asked what his idea was and then had used it. He should have expected Hayden to do something mean like that. Cody thought fast.

  “Grandma,” Cody said, “I’d like to write about Hamlet’s state of mind—whether he was just pretending to be crazy or really was. But everybody has a different opinion. Nobody is sure.”

  “Then write about the various possibilities,” she said. “It’s an interesting idea.”

  Cody sighed. “Okay, if you help me, Grandma,” he said.

  “Of course I will,” she answered. “Get your notebook and pen, and we’ll get busy.”

  The next morning, when Cody’s alarm clock sounded, he woke up feeling pretty good. Maybe, he thought, it was because his Hamlet project had been written and was no longer on his mind. With his grandmother’s help, his report was okay. Well, maybe more than okay. In fact, it was good. He was counting on getting a good grade.

  Before leaving for school, he put the report inside the top drawer of his dresser for safekeeping. He arrived at school with just enough time to dump some books in his locker and get to his first class before the bell rang. Down the hall he noticed Bobby ambling into one of the science rooms. He wondered again if Bobby had made the threatening phone call.

  Jake had said that most calls like that were simply pranks by people who were bored, or were carrying a grudge, or just didn’t think about right and wrong. Did that fit Bobby? It wasn’t any secret that Bobby barely made it from one grade to the next. Would that make him bored or angry enough to threaten the school? And was it just a threat? Or would he do something about it?

  Cody shook himself and settled down at his desk. The whole thing was over, there hadn’t been a second phone call, and he wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking about it. He wasn’t thinking about anything that had happened the day before, either. That Hayden—wouldn’t it be great if he could really tell his mother and grandmother the truth?

  At lunch period, as Cody stopped off at his locker, Hayden shoved him so hard he slammed against the wall, dropping his books.

  “Cut it out!” Cody yelled.

  He bent to pick up his books, but Brad kicked one of them out of his reach. Eddie scooped up Cody’s notebook. “Got your Hamlet paper in here?” he asked.

  “No, I haven’t!” Cody tried to reach for his notebook, but Hayden got in the way.

  “Betcha haven’t even written it yet,” Brad taunted.

  “None of your business.”

  Hayden grinned at Cody and said, “Nobody cares, cousin. Don’t sweat it.” He took the notebook from Eddie and shoved it hard into Cody’s stomach.

  Cody grabbed it and watched the Triple Trouble saunter down the hall in the direction of the cafeteria. Quickly he retrieved his books and stuffed everything into his locker. The hallway was emptying fast, and he needed to catch up with the others and be seen in the cafeteria.

  Twice Cody saw Hayden turn to look at him. Then from the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of someone going in the opposite direction. He turned and noticed Bobby opening a door and slipping through, shutting it behind him.

  Cody knew that it was the door to the school’s basement. It had a large KEEP OUT sign posted on it, and only the janitors were allowed to open it.

  Bobby didn’t belong in there with all the machinery that kept the heaters and air conditioners and water supply and electrical units going. Cody had to find out what Bobby was up to. He jogged to the door, opened it, and followed Bobby’s path.

  Cement steps led down to a large, deep basement, which was lit with bright exposed lightbulbs. Ahead of Cody, as he walked down the stairs, were large machines that hummed and rattled and purred and even hissed. There were passageways between them, and Cody walked through one of them. With the noise from the machinery, no one could hear his footsteps, but he couldn’t hear Bobby’s, either. As he passed the last of the machines, he found himself facing a small, square room with an open door. Inside were a desk, a chair, and a few old file cabinets. The room was empty, so where was Bobby? How could he just disappear?

  Cody was ready to retrace his steps when he realized there was another door, partially hidden behind a battered old screen. Hesitantly, he took hold of the doorknob and slowly turned it, pulling on the door.

  It opened to the outside. Cody walked up a flight of cement steps and emerged on the side street next to the school. Could this be the way Bobby had gone? Cody hadn’t been that far behind him. Surely, he should have been able to see him somewhere on the block.

  But Cody realized that Bobby had seemed to know where he was going, as though he’d used this route before. Cody, in contrast, had been slow and cautious in following him. A couple of minutes’ difference would have made it easy for Bobby to disappear from sight.

  Cody descended the steps and reached out to open the door to the janitors’ office. He tugged, but the knob wouldn’t turn in his hand. Apparently, the door had locked automatically, and he wouldn’t be able to get back in.

  He had no choice but to walk around the block to either the front doors or the yard in back. Cody groaned as he realized he’d probably have some explaining to do. He just hoped it wouldn’t be to Coach Anderson.

  Cody saw her at the same time she spied him. Standing by the wire fence that surrounded the schoolyard, Coach Anderson spotted Cody, started with surprise, and went to meet him at the gate.

  “What were you doing off campus?” she demanded.

  Cody had his mouth open, ready to explain, when the school’s loud alarm went off.

  Coach Anderson swung open the gate with one hand and grabbed Cody’s arm with the other. Making sure the gate was locked, she marched Cody across the yard toward the students who were hurrying to line up.

  “If that’s another bomb threat, you’re in big trouble!” she yelled into Cody’s ear.

  He winced and stumbled, trying to keep up with her long strides. He was in trouble, all right. There was no doubt about it.

  CHAPTER NINE

  There had been a second threatening telephone call to the school. The caller’s voice had been muffled, so some of his words were indistinct, but Mr. Carmody insisted that it was the same voice he had heard the first time.

  “He said ‘smoke,’ ” Mr. Carmody reported. “I know I heard him say ‘smoke.’ ”

  Cody, who’d been detained after all the other kids had been allowed
to go home early, faced Mr. Carmody, Mrs. Allen, the school’s short, plump secretary, Coach Anderson, and Jake, who had responded to the police call.

  “I didn’t do it,” Cody began.

  “That’s what you said last time,” Coach Anderson snapped. “Do we need to get his mother in here?”

  “I didn’t do it then, either.”

  “Why don’t you tell us what you did do?” Jake broke in. “Tell us where you were and why.”

  Cody left out the part about the hassle with Hayden. He just said that he had seen Bobby open the door into the basement and go inside, and he had followed.

  “I don’t think it could have been Bobby,” Mrs. Allen interrupted. “Just before lunch he came into the office with a headache and said his cold was worse. I sent him to the nurse’s office to rest and called his mother. She was at her office, but she said she’d come by as soon as she could to pick him up.”

  “Did she?” Jake asked.

  “I don’t know. Right after that I went to the teachers’ lounge.”

  “It was Bobby,” Cody insisted. “I saw him.”

  “Okay, Cody,” Jake said. “Just give us your story. Tell us the rest.”

  “There isn’t anything much left to tell,” Cody said. “I walked through that big room with all the machinery and found a small room way at the end with a desk in it.”

  “Did you see Bobby while you were down there?” Mr. Carmody asked.

  “No. I didn’t see him at all. But there was another door, and I opened it. It led outside, so I went up the steps to see if Bobby had gone out that way.”

  Before anyone could ask, Cody quickly added, “I didn’t see him, so I went back down the stairs. Only the door had shut and locked itself, and I had to come around the block to get back into the school.”

  Coach Anderson interrupted, “And that’s where I saw Cody.”

  Mr. Carmody scowled at Cody. “You’re trying to tell us you followed a boy who was reported to be in the nurse’s office?”

  “He wasn’t in the nurse’s office when I saw him.” Cody felt a tear slide down his cheek, and he rubbed at his face. The situation he was in looked hopeless, but he was too old to break down and cry.

  “We need to talk to the nurse,” Jake said. “She can verify whether Bobby was in her office. She was in the teachers’ lounge eating lunch with me when the alarm went off.”

  Jake turned to Mr. Carmody. “Was Bobby out here with the other students after the alarm sounded?”

  “The school was cleared of all personnel,” Mr. Carmody insisted.

  “I didn’t ask that,” Jake said. “I asked if anyone saw Bobby in the schoolyard with the other students.”

  For an instant there was silence.

  “Before I leave, I’ll get Bobby’s home address and phone number from you,” Jake told Mrs. Allen. “And, of course, we’ll check the source of the phone call, as we did before.”

  Indignantly, Coach Anderson asked, “What are you going to do about Cody Carter?”

  “Nothing,” Jake said.

  “B-but he’s a s-suspect!” she stammered.

  “He told us where he was and why he was there,” Jake said. “There’s no evidence to prove that he was anywhere else.”

  Mr. Carmody pursed his lips as he thought. “He was not supposed to be down in the basement. There is a clearly marked KEEP OUT sign posted on the door. I’m afraid Cody will have to serve a Saturday detention.”

  Coach Anderson nodded agreement and looked partially satisfied.

  “So be it,” Jake said. He gave Cody a quick pat on the shoulders and glanced over at a group of teachers who were standing together in a spot of shade.

  Cody saw that Ms. Jackson was looking back at Jake and smiling.

  “Right now I’ll ask your teachers a few questions. Then I’ll check with the bomb squad to see how soon y’all can get back into the building,” Jake said.

  Mr. Carmody looked down his nose at Cody and said, “You are dismissed.”

  “Yes, sir,” Cody said. He cut out the side gate and headed for home.

  His mother met him at the kitchen door with a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Grandma’s finally been able to get to sleep,” she said. Obviously, the school hadn’t contacted her yet.

  Cody flopped into the nearest kitchen chair and leaned on the table, propping up his chin in his hands. “The school got another bomb threat,” he said.

  Mrs. Carter sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “That’s terrible,” she said. “But at least this time no one is blaming you.”

  Cody groaned and said, “Mom, that’s not the way it was. I’ll tell you everything that happened, and I want you to believe me. I didn’t make that telephone call.”

  “I do believe you,” she said, and she listened while Cody poured out the whole story.

  When he finished, he said, “Jake is going to check where the phone call came from, and he’s going to talk to Bobby and his mom and see what he can find out.”

  It suddenly occurred to Cody that his mom hadn’t been surprised when he told her about the phone call. “You already knew about the call,” he said. “Did someone from the school telephone you?”

  Mrs. Carter shook her head. “No. Hayden and his friends told me. I asked why they were out of school early.”

  “Hayden was here?”

  “Yes. He and the other boys visited for a while with Grandma. That’s why she’s sleeping now. She loves to have visitors, but they tire her.”

  Cody stiffened as the jealous ache returned. She’s my grandma! he wanted to shout, as if he were a little kid. But, of course, she was Hayden’s grandmother, too.

  Mrs. Carter suddenly enveloped Cody in a smothering hug. “Oh, honey, don’t look so unhappy. Grandma is going to get better. I promise. And Aunt Tillie is thinking about selling her house in Arkansas and moving in with Grandma so neither one of them will be alone—maybe by Christmas.”

  Feeling guilty because his mother had the wrong idea about what was disturbing him, Cody pulled away. He tried to sort through what she had said. “Do you mean your aunt Tillie will live with us, too?”

  “We’ll make sure that Tillie is settled in and Grandma is feeling well and both of them are happy with the arrangement. Then we’ll be able to go home. Of course,” Mrs. Carter said, “that means we have to do our best to help Grandma get well. I know that you and Hayden will cooperate.”

  Cody sighed. Why did adults say they knew something when they couldn’t possibly know it? “When the guys were here, what else did they tell you?” he asked.

  “Eddie said something about seeing you follow that boy you mentioned, Bobby, but Hayden pulled him out of the kitchen, so I didn’t hear the rest.”

  Mrs. Carter smiled at Cody. “But you told me the whole story. I didn’t need to hear it from Eddie.”

  “The principal and the coach still think I made the calls, Mom.”

  She patted his shoulder. “We both know you didn’t. Sooner or later the real culprit will turn up and the case will be solved.”

  Cody remembered what Jake had said about the perps who made these calls. They weren’t always found out. It wasn’t that easy.

  His thoughts took a sudden turn. “Mom,” he asked, “what would you do with a two-pound sack of powdered sugar?”

  “A sack that big would last a good long time in our house,” she said. “Powdered sugar is good sprinkled on cinnamon toast and dusted on brownies. And I suppose, with that much on hand, I’d find plenty of cookie recipes that would call for it.”

  “Would you only use it for cooking?”

  “I can’t think of anything else powdered sugar would be used for.” She looked at the clock. “Hadn’t you better get to your homework?”

  “I can’t,” he said. “My books are all in my locker, and we couldn’t get into the building because the bomb squad had to examine it.”

  “Well, whatever you decide to do, be quiet about it,” she told him. “We don’t want to d
isturb Grandma’s nap.”

  “I’ll do some stuff on my computer,” Cody said. He walked upstairs wondering why he hadn’t thought of a computer search before. Hayden and the other guys weren’t going to use that powdered sugar in cooking. They had something else in mind. Maybe a search engine like Google could tell him what that might be.

  He watched as the screen brought up sites with recipes that called for powdered sugar. Only one site differed from the rest. Powdered sugar helped fight mites that infected bees. Hayden, Brad, and Eddie weren’t planning to help bees. Cody was sure of that.

  He remembered that the telephone caller had used the word smoke, so he typed it into the Search box and hit Enter.

  He saw Web sites for antismoking campaigns, smoke detectors, and cigar stores. He stopped when he found a Web site devoted to smoke and bees.

  Powdered sugar and bees, smoke and bees? Was there a connection? Cody sighed. If there was, he couldn’t figure it out.

  Puzzled, Cody shut down his computer, flopped across his bed, and tried to think. Instead, he fell asleep.

  He woke to find his mother gently shaking his shoulder. “Office Ramsey is here to talk to you,” she said.

  Cody jumped to his feet so fast he staggered, bouncing off the dresser and desk on the way to his open bedroom door. He hurried down the stairs, trying not to make too much noise, and dashed into the living room.

  Not even taking time to say hello to Jake, Cody asked, “Did Bobby confess?”

  “Slow down,” Jake said. He patted the sofa cushion next to his. “Have a seat and I’ll fill you in on what we found out.”

  Cody immediately sat down, aware that his mother had taken the easy chair near the fireplace. “What was it?” he asked in a rush.

  “Bobby left the school just as you said, through the basement door. His mom had already arrived at the school and was waiting for him at the side street, where she had picked him up before.”

  Cody scowled, trying to think. “Why didn’t he go out the front doors, the regular way?”

  “He claimed he didn’t like having a lot of kids and Mr. Carmody watch him leave. He’d used the door before, and his mom had picked him up there before.”