“It’s called a disability. You just can’t see it, that’s all.” Maddie took another look at her face and powdered again. “There was this girl he liked. She didn’t understand him either. I can’t believe that school after all the money my parents paid them because it was supposed to be good for him.”
Cree didn’t dare ask what he did to the girl, but she had learned one thing. He was a creep as well as a geek.
And now he would be at Southbridge. “Do you hang out with him a lot?”
“Nobody hangs out with him. He’s mostly a loner. This was the first time he asked a girl out. Ever, in his whole life. She could have said, no thanks, but she got all freaky and wouldn’t tell him why. If you ask me, she’s the crazy one.” Maddie chopped at her banana. “I’m sorry, I can’t talk about it.”
Cree couldn’t help siding with the girl. Why did he have to know the reason she turned him down? Why not forget her and ask somebody else?
Maddie said, “You never told me where you get your bike fixed.”
“Wheelies, on Grand Street. I can walk there. It’s not quite a mile. And with the new tires I can ride it home.”
“Doesn’t your family have a car?”
“Yes, but my mom’s in real estate. Weekends are their busiest time. And she has this fancy Mercedes that she has to keep nice for clients. She’d never allow my filthy old bike in it.”
Maddie took a day planner from her bag. “How about Saturday? Tomorrow I can pick you up for school and take you home, and then pick you up on Saturday with the bike. Okay?”
“If you live on Lake Road,” said Cree, “its way out of your way.”
“That’s okay. Tomorrow’s Friday. I always feel relaxed on Friday. I forgot to ask you, what did the cute cop say?”
“He thinks it’s malicious mischief. I’m pretty sure I know who did it. Remember that girl who came over at lunch and talked about the baby? It’s got to be her, she’s a complete bitch, but I need proof and he wouldn’t take fingerprints.”
“I like that,” Maddie said. “The Complete Bitch. Like The Compleat Angler. It makes a good title for—something.”
“For when Stacie writes her memoirs.” Cree felt just a little bit cheered.
Chapter Eight
Cree woke on Saturday, too depressed to get out of bed. Tonight was the Harvest Moon Dance. She had bought new jeans for the occasion, dark blue with embroidery across the back pocket. She rarely spent money on clothes. This was supposed to be special.
If she knew where Mom kept the vodka, she could drink her way through it. Blot out all thoughts of Troy. And Kip, since she couldn’t do anything about either one.
She opened her blind, hoping to see some excitement at Olive’s house. Something that meant Kip had been found.
All was quiet, and Lina Lynch must have spent the night. Her car was there along with Olive’s.
Grandma knocked on her door and came in. “I’m taking Jasper for a walk. How about it?”
Grandma was already dressed in a turquoise pantsuit and turquoise eyeshadow.
“I just woke up,” said Cree. “And I have to wait for a phone call about my bike. I wish you had a car.”
Grandma had spent the summer taking driving lessons. The only thing missing now was something to drive.
“I’ll get it when I win the lottery,” she said. “Come on, take your shower and let’s go. Your friend can leave a message.”
They set out with Jasper and a supply of plastic bags for cleaning up. Grandma suggested they stay on their side of the street. “We don’t want to look too nosy, and you get a better view from here.” Grandma had spying down to an art.
Mr. Culpepper sat on his porch with a mug of coffee. The morning was cool and he wore a down vest. Cree thought of Kip without a jacket.
“Nothing new, nothing changed,” he told them.
Grandma said, “Keep us posted, you hear?”
After two more houses, they reached the long steps. It was a flight built into the hillside, going down to the lower village and the train station. Originally meant for commuters, it was rarely used. Most people preferred to drive and pay for parking.
The steps marked a turnaround point. On the way back, Grandma stared openly at Olive’s house. “All those dogs and helicopters, you’d think they’d come up with something.”
“Not if somebody took him,” said Cree.
“Knock it off, honey. Who’d go in there and take him out from under Davy’s nose? What’s the point, anyway? Olive doesn’t have money.”
“It makes as much sense as Kip walking out and disappearing all by himself. I still think Davy fell asleep. I need to talk to him.”
“You need to? What have you got to do with it? They already have people for that. You concentrate on your own stuff.”
“What is my own stuff? I don’t have Madame Olga anymore and now I can’t even earn the money for New York.”
Olive would have to go back to work sometime. Even if she paid Cree less for minding Davy alone, it was better than nothing.
Actually, it wasn’t. Nothing was better, with Kip still missing. The worst part was not knowing what happened to him. Would they ever know?
At ten o’clock, Maddie called. “Can you wait till afternoon? My brother will be available with his truck. That should make it easier for carrying your bike.”
Emerson Santiago the Second. Could this day get any worse? She would take the bike herself, but Maddie hung up before she could say it.
Grandma was making French toast. “Sit down and have a bite.”
She couldn’t. Her stomach rebelled. But food might help a little.
Over breakfast, they argued whether Kip could have been taken without Davy noticing.
“Pretty impossible,” Grandma said. “Unless he really was asleep.”
“If he was, that’s his defense right there,” said Cree. “I’m going to find out.”
That caught Grandma’s interest, even though earlier she had been opposed. “Mind if I go with you?”
Cree did mind. She wanted to do it by herself, but Grandma was so eager. “Okay, if you’ll let me ask the questions. You can have your turn later.”
Both cars were still in the driveway but no one answered Cree’s knock. The doorbell never worked.
She pushed open the door. “Olive?”
Radio sounds came from the kitchen. Olive’s cousin Lina sat at the table, same spot as yesterday, wearing a different baggy housedress. This one was purple gingham. At the sudden appearance of two strangers, Lina jumped, slopping coffee.
Grandma rushed over to her. “Oh hon, I’m so sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Remember me? I was here yesterday, Iva Mellin from down the street. This here is my granddaughter. She babysits these kids.”
“We already met,” said Cree. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Good to see you, too.” Lina got a dishrag and wiped up the spill. “Would you ladies care for some coffee? It’s all made.”
“No thanks, hon,” Grandma said. “We’re only here a minute. Just to see how Olive’s doing.”
Cree looked around for Davy.
Lina asked, “You know her a long time?”
“Ever since she moved here,” Grandma said. “Three, four years ago. My granddaughter knows her better.”
“She say anything about where she lived before?”
Grandma couldn’t answer that. Cree said, “Not to me. We don’t get to talk that much. She’s mostly at work. It’s the kids I know better. I can’t see Kip walking very far and I can’t believe Davy would do anything to hurt him. Is Davy here?”
She said it as loud as she could without bellowing. Davy heard her. He clattered down the stairs and braked to a stop in the kitchen doorway. She held out her arms. “Want to go for a walk, Davy?”
Lina made a move to get up. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not? Davy and I are buddies.” Although Lina was closer, being a relative. “I’m sure Oliv
e won’t mind.”
Davy seized her hand and dashed for the front door. Cree grabbed his jacket from a hook in passing.
Lina hurried after them. “Can you wait just a minute? Let me check if it’s okay.”
Cree wavered, but decided not to hear her. Grandma blocked her way. “Now don’t you worry about a thing, hon. We won’t be long. My granddaughter’s a very reliable babysitter and I’m very reliable, period.”
Cree called over her shoulder, “We’ll be right back.”
Outside, Grandma said, “What’s her problem? Doesn’t she trust you?”
“She feels responsible,” said Cree. “I doubt if Olive’s good for much right now and Lina thinks she’s in charge.”
Still, it made her uneasy. She hoped she wasn’t getting Davy or herself in trouble. She waved to Mr. Culpepper and headed toward the long steps.
Davy asked, “Where we going?”
“How about some ice cream?” Cree looked back to see if Lina followed. She could be calling the police.
“On second thought,” Grandma said, “we should have stuck around and had coffee with her. Might have learned a few things.”
“It’s too late now.” Cree started down the steps.
Davy said, “Are we going to the trains?”
“We’re going near there.” She hoped a train would pass. They were so awesome close up. “We’re going to that place down there with the green awnings.”
She and Grandma had discovered Tina’s Corner years ago. It was a small luncheonette that served sandwiches and ice cream. Their choices were limited to chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, but the sundaes came piled with trimmings. Cree ordered chocolate all around.
They sat near a window to keep an eye on things. She wondered if Lina had raised the alarm yet. Mr. Culpepper would be a witness to which direction they had taken. She might not have much time, and started right in. “How did it go with the police yesterday?”
“Huh?” Davy got up to see out a window. There were parked cars but no trains.
“Did they ask a lot of questions?”
“The ladies did.”
“The same ladies as before, those psychology people? What did they ask?”
Grandma brought over their sundaes towering with whipped cream, chopped walnuts, M&Ms, and a cherry on top. Davy ate the cherry first. “This is yummy.”
“I’m glad you approve.” Cree watched the window for police cars. Or Lina’s, or Olive’s. And tried to figure out how to get what she wanted without planting ideas. It was harder than she expected.
Davy started on the whipped cream. Grandma said, “You better be sure he’s not allergic to nuts.”
“I thought you said I was reliable.”
This was going much too slowly. She was afraid that if she pushed, he might shut down completely. “What did they do, ask about when Kip disappeared? What did you tell them?”
“Nothing.” He gobbled up ice cream. “I didn’t tell them nothing ’cause I don’t know nothing.”
She felt bad for him. “I know it’s pesky, all those questions, but I believe you. I’ll believe anything you can tell me. What sort of things did you talk about?”
“They said—they said I was there. But I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you were there? Or you didn’t see what happened? Did you maybe get up and go to the bathroom, or something?”
“No, I didn’t!” He banged his spoon on the metal dish. The counter girl jumped.
“I know you were watching TV. Was anybody there besides you?”
“Kippie was there. And then you came and Kippie wasn’t there.”
Something must have happened while he watched TV.
Of course, something happened. Kip disappeared.
How could Davy not notice unless something happened to him, too? Might he have been hypnotized by the TV? Kids often looked as if they were, but was it ever a real trance, so that something could happen and they wouldn’t know?
“Do you remember waking up?”
“I remember when you came.” He beamed at her.
Grandma said, “You must have been asleep. Did you have any dreams?”
Cree gave her a warning poke. But the question made sense.
“I dreamed about a big thing,” he said. “It was coming at me.”
Cree asked, “What sort of a big thing? Like an elephant? A train?”
“A train is long-big. It was just big, like a house.”
“It came straight at you?”
“Yeah.” He seemed less certain that time. “It wasn’t really a house.”
“Then what was it?”
He couldn’t tell her. Cree looked at her watch.
The whole trip had accomplished nothing. A big thing like a house but wasn’t a house. He certainly had been dreaming, just as she thought.
Maybe that was what it accomplished. It proved she was right.
Chapter Nine
Cree went on ahead to catch Maddie’s phone call, leaving Grandma to take Davy home. If Lina still felt put out, Grandma could handle her better than Cree could.
The answering machine had no messages. It might mean the whole deal was off, which was okay with her if it involved Maddie’s brother. She would give them one more hour.
So as not to waste the hour, she practiced her barre exercises. She was halfway through them when Grandma came home. “You still here? What happened to your friend?”
“Who knows?” Cree raised her leg in a graceful développé, unfolding it until her toe pointed upward. “Grandma, look! I got it more than ninety degrees!”
Grandma looked but didn’t understand the big deal. Cree tried to explain. “Now I’m a real dancer, with real extension. That’s what it’s called, extension. Where’s Davy?”
“He's home. Nobody took my head off, but I gotta tell you, when that cousin was leading him away, I heard her ask, ‘What did you all talk about?’ She was real nice and sweet but I bet he spilt the beans. He's only a little kid.”
Cree moaned. “They’ll never let me see him again. I should have been more careful.” She forgot where she was in the exercises and did a few more pliés. You couldn’t go wrong with pliés.
Grandma put on an apron. “You want lunch? I’m having an egg salad sandwich.”
“We just had sundaes. And French toast.”
“There’s eggs enough for two, all cooked.” Grandma got out a meat cleaver and began chopping onions. “You sure you don’t want any?”
“Not with onions.” Cree gave up the pliés and put on her sneakers. “What am I supposed to say to a geeky guy who’s in trouble because of a girl? Why can’t she have a normal brother?”
“You know anybody who’s all the way normal? Everybody has their peculiarities.” Grandma pushed aside the ruffled curtain above the sink. “Are you expecting a blue pickup? It looks nice.”
Cree rushed to the powder room and checked her face. Not that it mattered for a creep-geek, but she had her pride.
She was back in time to see Maddie climb out of the truck. On the other side of it were a blue sweater and a head of dark, wavy hair.
Grandma watched, spellbound. “Will you look at that!”
All along, Cree had pictured Emerson Santiago. She could only stare, as Grandma did. It made her wish she had done more with her face. And that the kitchen didn’t smell of onions. She went outside to meet them.
Maddie said, “This is Ben.”
Why hadn’t Maddie warned her? Cree could think only of the Greek statues Mom used to drag her to at the Metropolitan Museum. The perfect symmetry of face and form. The white eyes, because they were marble. Ben’s eyes were dark, like melted chocolate. They refused to look straight at her.
Grandma wiped her hands on her apron. “’Scuse the smell. I’ve been chopping onions. Anybody care for an egg salad sandwich?”
To Cree’s relief, they both refused. Ben asked, “Where’s the bike?”
Cree led him to the front entry. He crouched d
own and examined the tires.
“As you can see,” she said, “they’re very flat.”
Grandma called, “Don’t forget your jacket, honey.”
As if she were three years old. She took her black quilted one with the snarling tiger on the back. Maddie turned her around for a better look. “What’s that?”
“It’s our school symbol,” said Cree. “Our colors are orange and black.”
Maddie patted the tiger. “I don’t think Lakeside has a symbol. Lakeside sucks.”
Ben lifted the bike into his truck. Cree had never seen a pickup with both a front and a back seat. Maddie sat in back and put Cree in front with Ben. Grandma stood by, nodding her approval. That, along with his looks, made Cree tongue-tied. She couldn’t stay tongue-tied, and so she babbled.
“I love your truck. I mean the color. It’s—my mom has this friend with some flowers they call blue gentians. It’s sort of that shade.”
Definitely a conversation stopper. Ben didn’t try to answer.
She asked, “Do you know where the place is? Wheelies, on Grand Street.”
“With the bikes in front.”
He could talk! She babbled on.
“This is so nice of you. With those tires, I’d have to push it all the way. My mom has a car, but she—”
A Band-Aid would have been good. On her mouth. He was only a guy, after all.
“Anyway,” she added, so he wouldn’t think she was using him, “I can ride it home.”
Maddie said, “We’ll take you home. Won’t we, Ben?”
When he didn’t answer, she leaned forward and spoke in Cree’s ear. “He’s not very big on small talk.”
And Cree had been yapping like an airhead. She’d forgotten he was a creep.
He parked next to Wheelies and lifted out her bike. Its tires flopped dismally as she pushed it into the store.
The man at the counter whistled. “What have we here?”
“Vandals,” said Cree. “I reported it but they said it’s a needle in a haystack.”
Because it was Saturday, they were extra busy. They told her it would be awhile. She guessed it would be a long while and went outside to wait.
Twenty Minutes Late Page 6
