Summer on the Moon

by Adrian Fogelin

  “I’ll get it.” Livvy sprinted back over to the fat pig of a purse. While she swept what had spilled back in, Luke dove into the driver’s seat. The purse in her arms, Livvy scrambled into the truck’s jump seat. “Come on, Socko, get in!” She reached over the seat in front of her and slapped it. “Now!”

  Instead, Socko closed the passenger door behind her. What if Luke was wrong about the gang letting his mother leave? He stuck his head through the open window. “Get ’em outta here, Luke. I’ll ride with Mom.”

  “No!” Although her lips were almost blue with fear, Livvy tried to push the seat forward so she could get out. “If you stay, I stay too!”

  “That ain’t gonna happen.” Luke crossed his arms on his chest and blew out. “We’ll all sit here ‘til your mom pulls out in …” He checked his watch. “Three minutes.”

  “No, Luke. I’m sure Damien spotted us,” Socko whispered.

  “If he had, they’d be all over us by now. Or else he’s still your friend.” Luke leaned across the seat and pushed the door open. “Get in. As soon as Delia comes out, we roll.”

  They sat, the engine still idling. Socko took off the straw hat and rolled up the brim in his hands. “How’re we going to know when she comes out?”

  Luke pointed out the narrow strip of street visible beyond the edge of the building. Delia’s car would cross that street as she drove away.

  “Assuming they let her get to her car,” Socko mumbled. Windows down, they listened for anything that might let them know Delia had walked out the front door of the building.

  But all the sounds Socko had missed in the silence of Moon Ridge got in the way. The AC unit behind the Phat roared, and somewhere a street or two over some guys were arguing, a truck beeped as it backed up.

  “So, this is where you’re from.” Despite all the noise, Livvy was whispering.

  When he turned around, she was staring at the tarantula painted on the Dumpster. “Yeah,” he whispered back. “This is where I’m from.”

  “Ten seconds.” Luke stared at his watch. “Now!”

  Although the danger meter at the back of Socko’s neck was going crazy, nothing happened. Then a wall of sound surged over the building, a tidal wave of four-letter words and electronic bass that he could feel like a second heart throbbing in his chest.

  Rapp had unleashed the power of the Trans Am’s mighty stereo. Rapp knew it was three o’clock too. Was he signifying that his patience had run out, or was he covering up something that was happening to Socko’s mom? Socko grabbed the handle and threw the door open.

  A hand gripped his upper arm. “Wait!” Luke ordered.

  The wait was no more than a minute, but during those sixty seconds Socko felt as if he would fly apart not knowing what was happening on the other side of the building.

  “There she is,” said Luke.

  Socko saw a turquoise car door flash by, then an orange one. Delia was at the wheel, staring straight ahead.

  “Go!” said Livvy. “Go!” As Luke pulled across the street that ran up the side of the Phat, Socko felt the blast of the radio full force; the parked Trans Am seemed to pulsate. The Tarantulas were gone—they must have swarmed the Phat as soon as Delia left. Only Damien, the lookout, had stayed with the car.

  Socko touched the S on the Superman lid. Maybe Damien saw him, maybe not. If he did, Socko hoped Damien would know he was saying thanks.

  For once in his life Damien had kept his mouth shut.

  “Nice little jaunt?” asked Uncle Eddie, raising the barrier arm.

  “All in a day’s work,” said Luke as he pulled through the gate.

  Socko glanced back at the wooden bar and the old man in the guard booth. Both would be a joke to Rapp if he wanted in, but first he’d have to figure out that Junebug was here, and to storm Moon Ridge he’d have to know Moon Ridge existed. If Damien hadn’t ratted him out when he was right there just feet away from the gang, why would he spill now?

  Livvy knelt on the jump seat and slid the window behind it open. “Junebug? You can come out now.”

  The plastic tarp stirred. Pushing it aside, Junebug sat up slowly. She watched the blank faces of brand-new houses stream by. Despite the heat, she kept the tarp wrapped around her like a blanket.

  Socko wished he was riding in back with her. He’d tell her that this place was weird at first but that you get used to it. He’d explain that Moon Ridge was like one of those islands where birds evolved, losing the ability to fly because there were no major predators.

  “Shoot,” said Luke as they pulled into Socko’s driveway. “Looks like I’m heading back to the city.” He snagged Mrs. Holmes’s envelope, which stuck up from between the seats.

  “Sorry about that,” said Socko.

  “You’re safe from him here,” Livvy assured Junebug through the open window.

  But Socko was worried about a different “him” as he climbed out of the truck. He trotted up the driveway, leaving Livvy to bring Junebug inside.

  “Delia Marie!” the General rasped as Socko opened the door. “This is completely unacceptable! We’ve already done our share. More than our share. We can’t save everybody!”

  “What did you want us to do? Let her gangsta boyfriend kill her?” Socko’s mother yelled back, tossing her paper hat in the garbage.

  “Who do I look like, Mother Teresa? There must be someplace else she can go.”

  “If there was, do you think we would’ve brung her here?”

  Socko watched Livvy help Junebug down out of the truck. “General, sir?”

  “Don’t interrupt, young man. Your mother and I are having a difference of opinion!”

  “Take a look.”

  “At what?” But the old man rolled his chair over to the window. “Gonna break her fool neck,” he muttered, watching Junebug stand, swaying slightly in her too-tall heels.

  “She’s kind of in shock,” Socko said. “Up ‘til a few minutes ago she thought she was going to die today.”

  “Hang out with the wrong people and …” The words fizzled. “Skinny little thing, isn’t she? Wears way too much makeup.”

  “But she’s a good girl,” Delia insisted. “She was just in over her head.”

  The General sighed. “All I wanted out of our little arrangement was peace and quiet. No fuss. And what do I get? Homeless families, girls with crazy boyfriends … all kinds of mess. You knew there was going to be a problem—I heard you two whispering about it. Why didn’t you talk to me? We’re a family.”

  Socko and Delia stared at each other over the old man’s head. When, amidst all the complaints and threats to “call my lawyer,” had they become a family?

  But they had.

  Delia put her hand on the General’s shoulder as the front door slowly opened and Livvy helped Junebug inside.

  “Mother Teresa?” Delia said softly to the General. “I got someone I’d like you to meet.”

  35

  MY SUMMER ON THE MOON

  His name is Rapp Robinson and he drives a maroon Trans Am,” Socko said, putting Uncle Eddie on alert. “I don’t think he’s going to come, but if he does, don’t try to do anything. Just call the cops.”

  “I saw that girl sit up in the truck after you all pulled through. Wondered why she was riding back there. I get off in half an hour, but if you want I can sleep in the booth.” Uncle Eddie picked up the flashlight he always kept handy and swung it like a weapon.

  Socko took a good look at the old guy and his flashlight and told him to go home after his shift. If Rapp showed up in the middle of the night, Uncle Eddie would get himself killed—or else he’d sleep right through it.

  All that evening Socko prowled quietly from window to door, checking the road. Sometimes he stopped and rolled his shoulders, but his muscles stayed tight.

  The General and Delia watched a couple of game shows. Junebug’s eyes were pointed toward the set, but after a little while she curled up on the sofa, her sparkly shoes on the floor.

  Socko’s
mother and great-grandfather quietly debated where to put the girl for the night. They had a room for Junebug, but no bed. “Leave her here on the couch,” the General said. “I’ll be close by in the recliner if anything happens.”

  Socko wondered, had the General or Uncle Eddie ever noticed they were old? What would either one of them do if something actually did happen?

  The next day Livvy’s mom offered them a fold out couch, which Luke and Socko horsed up the stairs. Without even opening it, Junebug stretched out and went to sleep again.

  It was late afternoon by the time she wandered down the stairs. Socko and Livvy were playing cards with the General. Delia was reading an old magazine, enjoying the luxury of two days off between jobs.

  “Hi.” Junebug stood in the door, her thin arms wrapped around herself.

  “Cuppa coffee?” the General asked, laying down his cards.

  Junebug nodded.

  Socko was surprised when his great-grandfather made the coffee himself. He wasn’t Mother Teresa yet, but he sure was headed that way.

  As the General handed her the cup, Junebug’s eyes seemed to focus for the first time. They were fixed on the hand holding the cup. “How do you do you even zip your fly with those long nails?”

  “How is that any business of yours?” he shot back. “Actually I do almost everything with great difficulty,” he admitted. “But I got too much arthritis in my hands to cut ’em myself, so I’m kind of stuck.”

  “You should’ve told me!” said Delia. “I got scissors.” Socko and his mother had never thought the General might need help with cutting his nails or anything else. They’d taken his orneriness as an order to leave him alone.

  “Scissors! I can do better than that.” Junebug disappeared into the living room where her fat purse sat on the end of the couch. She returned with a small plastic case and a piece of paper. “I’m a certified nurse’s aide.” She presented the General with the paper and unzipped the case with a flourish.

  “I’m sure you are,” he said, offering her his hand.

  After Junebug had cut, buffed, and filed his nails, the old man admired them for a moment. Then he zeroed in on her with his good eye. “You want a real challenge?”

  “Feet?” she asked.

  “You know it, sister!”

  “Sure thing, but first I better let my aunt know I’m okay. Delia, can I borrow your emergency phone? My cell’s gone. I took everything out of my bag, but it wasn’t in there.”

  Socko remembered the contents of Junebug’s purse scattered on the asphalt behind the Phat. Livvy must have missed the phone in her hurry to pick everything up and get out of there.

  “It’s been two days,” said Livvy. She and Socko were in the back of the truck, heading toward the day’s planting site.

  “I know,” said Socko. But something was still bothering him. Despite being a Tarantula, Damien hadn’t ratted him out when he left with Junebug. Damien was still more loyal to him than he was to Rapp—and all Socko could do in return was go back to planting with Livvy and Luke?

  He tried to come up with something as he dug holes. He’d told Damien he’d have his back, but so far Damien had covered for him every time.

  It was late afternoon, and the sun was beating down by the time Socko walked over to the guard booth. “See anything?” he asked Uncle Eddie.

  “Nope. No desperadoes, hoodlums, horse thieves, racketeers, mobsters, or malefactors. Not even a stray dog.” The old man sounded disappointed. “You think we’re in the clear?”

  “I guess.”

  Uncle Eddie gazed at the empty road that ran in front of the subdivision. “I’m thinking about bumping the threat level down from orange to green.”

  “What does green mean?”

  “Low probability of a terrorist attack.”

  “I don’t know … you might wait another day or two.”

  “Okey dokey.”

  “See ya, Uncle Eddie.”

  Socko walked along, watching his feet and thinking thoughts that went about as far as a hamster running in its wheel.

  “Hey! Pool’s full!” When he looked up, Livvy was striding toward him wearing a polka-dot two-piece swimsuit.

  He avoided looking at her white stomach with its frowny belly button, concentrating instead on her weird tan. Like his, her pale skin turned bright pink in the sun. Her burn started and stopped so abruptly it was like she was still wearing her shirt and shorts. He pointed to the flexible foam logs resting on her shoulders. “What’re those?”

  “Pool noodles.” She tossed him the purple one. “Want to stop at your house and change into your swimsuit?”

  Socko didn’t have one. “Why waste time? I can swim in my shorts.”

  Livvy dipped a toe into water that was pink with the sunset. “Nice!” The pool noodle she tossed in landed with a splash.

  Socko threw his in too and shucked his T-shirt. Livvy stared at his pale chest a moment, then looked away. “Let’s jump on three!” she said as he draped his shirt on one of the bushes he and Luke had planted.

  Embarrassed by his own exposed skin, he launched before she’d even said “one.” The water was cool but not cold. His feet touched bottom. He opened his eyes in response to the explosion of Livvy hitting the water. Slowed by the water, she drifted down, her eyes open too. Her hair, tinted orange, swirled around her face like flames, and silvery bubbles escaped from the corners of her mouth. Together, they popped to the surface.

  “Ohmygosh! This is so great!” Livvy slicked back her wet hair with both hands, then paddled lazily toward the yellow pool noodle. She hung her arms over it.

  He fanned his own arms in big circles and tried to act cool. Was she his girlfriend?

  “There’s that thing at the school tomorrow, the open house?” she said. “You think your mom could take us?”

  “She starts her new job tomorrow.”

  She frowned. “My parents can’t take us either. They’re meeting with the guy who wants to buy those houses on Orbit Lane.” The deal was being offered by another builder, one who was buying distressed properties at bargain prices, then finishing the houses and selling them at a profit. Livvy had told Socko that her parents didn’t like the idea, but that the sale of six houses would make the partners happy. “Maybe Junebug can drive us.”

  “Or we could give it a pass.” School would start soon enough.

  He rolled onto his back and hung still in the water, listening to the hum of the pool pump, smelling the chlorine. For a second he imagined he was on the roof with Damien, but it felt faint and faraway. He was in a swimming pool with a girl. He was wondering what it would be like to kiss a girl in a pool when a wave surged over his face. He stood up, choking, chlorine burning his nose. “Why’d ya do that?”

  “To get your attention?”

  He vaguely remembered some blugga-blubba sounds coming through the water. “Did you have to get my attention by drowning me?”

  “Sorry.” She stood up too. A water droplet dangled from each earlobe. “What do you think our new school will be like?”

  “I dunno.” His old school had been as dead and decayed as the president it was named after. According to Livvy the new school was almost as new as the houses in Moon Ridge Estates. How was he supposed to know what that would be like?

  “Come on, Socko, predict.”

  “I predict … rubber pizza in the cafeteria.”

  She twisted her wet hair with one hand and pressed it against the back of her head. The water held it in place. “What do you think will happen the first day?”

  “We’ll write what we did on our summer vacation.” His first day last school year, Socko had written about exploring the North Pole. He’d read a book about it over the summer while sweating in their apartment. The assignment was dumb anyway. No one at GC did anything on their summer vacation.

  “Last summer I went to Switzerland,” Livvy said. She scooped up water in both hands and watched it slip away between her fingers.

  “And
this summer you’re saving Moon Ridge Estates.”

  “And Junebug.” She dove under the darkening water and then came back up. “And Luke and his family. You can write about that too—unless we’re in the same English class. Then I call it.”

  She’d forgotten he’d be in seventh, she’d be in eighth, and even if they were in the same grade, she’d be in the smart class. He’d be in the one where kids killed time sharpening pencils.

  But even if by some fluke they were in the same class, he’d still write about it. He already had a title picked out: My Summer on the Moon.

  “It’s all good,” Delia had said that morning. “Rapp is history and tomorrow I start a new job!”

  But even if they never saw Rapp again and her new job was great, it wasn’t all good—it was just different. A lot had happened since he and Damien had busted the Hurtler celebrating the start of summer vacation.

  Like meeting Livvy.

  He thought again about kissing a girl in a pool, but Livvy was climbing out.

  36

  A CALL FROM JUNE GRIMES

  Delia tugged at the blouse of her new uniform. “Is it too tight?”

  The General wheeled his chair closer and squinted his good eye at her.

  Don’t say it, Socko begged silently. The uniform looked like it had been painted on.

  “Avoid sneezing!” the old man advised.

  “Oh, dear!” Delia clasped her hands.

  “I think she looks hot!” said Junebug, who was pulling Delia’s hair back into a bun.

  “Hot?” the General snorted, the lone eye staring. “The color looks good on you, Delia Marie.” Orange and brown had been replaced by a pale blue. He gave her arm a pat. “Anyway, it’s not the uniform, it’s the girl in the uniform. Give ’em heck, honey!”

  She winked at him. “You know I will.”

  Socko walked Delia to the car and held the door. She climbed in, setting her purse on the seat beside her carefully. An employee handbook stuck out of the top. “That reminds me,” she said. “The new place won’t let staff bring food home. It sure is going to be different working for a chain! So, no more greasy burgers—unless I pay for them. And you can forget that!”