by Rosa Jordan
“It has gaps in it,” Justin remembered.
“I know. We waited until he went into his house, and then we took off …”
“He must’ve called the police,” Justin muttered.
“Probably,” Kate agreed. “But no one came by while we were at the playground. Just in case, though, I had Luther hide in the bushes with the rabbit until we saw you coming.”
“We were lucky,” Justin said. “Two crimes in one day was really pushing it!”
12
SUSPECTS
The next afternoon Justin walked across to the nursery to ask Mom what paint she wanted him to use on the porch trim. His nerves were still kind of jangled. He figured that painting while he listened to some good loud rock music was just what he needed to get back to normal.
Mom was busy ringing up a sale for some heavy potted plants. “Want me to put them in your car?” Justin asked the customer.
The lady handed him her keys and pointed to a green Camry. “Thank you, young man,” she said, and turned back to Mom to pay her bill. “What a nice boy.”
Justin knew she meant for him to hear the compliment. He managed a weak smile. Definitely, he thought. A nice boy. Not the kind of boy who steals goats.
As if thinking about the goatnapping had conjured up his worst nightmare, a maroon station wagon—one he knew all too well—pulled into the parking lot. Justin hid his face behind the potted plants he was carrying, till he got to the woman’s car. He popped the trunk and stood so that the trunk lid was between him and the station wagon.
Grimsted walked up to the small, brightly painted cart full of flowers that Little Billy had pulled in the Pet Parade and stared hard at it for a long moment.
Mr. Hashimoto strolled by with a young couple asking questions about roses. He was all smiles.
“I’m looking for a goat,” Grimsted said abruptly. “The one that pulled that cart in the parade.”
Mr. Hashimoto was normally a very polite man, but he hated being interrupted, especially when he was talking to a customer. He didn’t even allow Lily to do that, and Lily was allowed to do just about anything she pleased.
“No goats here,” Mr. Hashimoto snapped. “And the cart’s not for sale.”
Another car pulled into the driveway.
“Lily,” Mr. Hashimoto called. “Your mother is here.” He walked away from Grimsted, still talking roses to the young couple.
Grimsted marched over to where Mr. Wilson was watering some plants.
“My goat has been stolen,” he barked, as if it was Mr. Wilson’s fault. “Snatched from an entirely secure place.”
Mr. Wilson scratched his tight-curled white hair and gave Grimsted a bemused look. “Guess it wasn’t all that secure, if he got stolen.” Then he turned and called to a lady in the next row, “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“Oh yes. I’m looking for fruit trees.”
Grimsted stood there glaring at Mr. Wilson’s back.
Justin scanned the nursery for Chip, Luther, and Lily. They had gone to take care of Little Billy and the rabbit that morning, and then they had come back because Lily was supposed to go somewhere with her mother. He knew they were in the nursery, but where? Had they seen Grimsted? Had Grimsted seen them?
Mrs. Hashimoto honked, and Mr. Hashimoto called again, “Lily!”
When Lily appeared from behind a row of bushes at the back of the nursery, Justin realized that the kids had seen Grimsted. That was why they were lurking in the back instead of running all over the place the way they usually did. Chip and Luther remained hidden but Lily had no choice. Defiantly, she walked slowly past Grimsted, looking straight at him.
Grimsted stared back at her. When she got close, he said in a loud voice, “I figure it was kids that stole my goat.”
At that Lily lost her nerve. She sprinted for her mother’s car, hopped in, and they drove away.
To Justin’s relief, Grimsted didn’t see him or the younger boys. Grimsted went back to the little goat cart, stared at it for a minute or two, then got in his station wagon and pulled out of the parking lot.
Luckily, the lady who bought the plants had struck up a conversation with Mom and hadn’t decided to leave while Justin was hiding behind the lid of her car trunk. As soon as Grimsted was out of sight, Justin finished loading the plants and went back to the sales counter.
When the customer finally left, Justin asked his mother about the paint.
“That green outdoor paint on the shelf on the back porch,” Mom told him. “Oh, and Justin, please take Chip and Luther to the house with you.”
“Okay,” Justin said quickly. Any other time he would have complained, or at least sighed loudly, if Mom asked him to look after Chip. But he figured that under the circumstances, he should be as cooperative as possible. Plus, it was a good idea to keep a close eye on the younger kids. Who knew what Grimsted might do if he ever caught one of them alone?
“It’s okay for them to come over here to play with Lily,” Mom was saying. “But they shouldn’t hang around the nursery all the time. After all, this is a place of business.”
Justin signaled to Chip and Luther, who came sidling out from behind the bushes. It was a good thing Mr. Grimsted hadn’t seen them, because both of them looked incredibly guilty.
Mom gave Justin an apologetic smile, like she was about to ask him some really big favor. “And if you don’t mind, Justin, would you see that Chip’s face and hands are washed before he goes off with his dad?”
“Sure,” he told his mother. “I’ll do that.”
13
THE INVITATION
When Charlie drove up, Justin delivered Chip to the car with clean face and hands, just like Mom had asked. They were back in half an hour, Chip loaded down as usual with junk food. Charlie waited till Chip had gone in the house, then came up to the porch where Justin was cleaning the paintbrush.
“How’d you like to visit me in Homestead?”
The question just about knocked Justin’s socks off. He turned to stare at his dad. “Homestead? Isn’t that—?”
“A little south of Miami. There’s a car we’re getting ready for next Sunday’s race, so I can’t get away. Thought you might like to come down.” Charlie grinned.
“For the whole weekend?” Justin asked, hardly daring to believe it.
“Yeah. I checked the bus schedule. There’s one you could catch right after school on Friday, stay over Saturday, and leave after the race on Sunday afternoon.”
“Uh, let me think about it,” Justin said. He didn’t need to think about whether he wanted to go. What he had to think about was how to ask Mom so she would say yes. With a sinking heart, he realized that there was no way he could get a yes answer out of her. And no way he was going to take no for an answer. The only way around that was—don’t ask.
“I mean, sure!” Justin exclaimed. “Definitely! What time’s the bus?”
“Four-thirty,” Charlie said. “I’ll check what time it gets in and meet you at the station. Okay, pal?”
“You bet!”
Charlie started for the car, then turned around and came back, still grinning. “I almost forgot.” He pulled four twenty-dollar bills out of his pocket. “Bus fare.”
Justin felt like hugging him, but he didn’t. Charlie seemed more like the punch-you-on-the-arm kind of dad than the hugging kind. So he just said, “Thanks!” in a way he hoped let Charlie know how much the invitation meant to him.
Justin felt that Brad was the only person he could safely tell about the invitation. He didn’t phone him, though, because Brad’s mom sometimes listened in on his phone calls. It would be better to wait and tell him in person.
Whoever got to school first always waited at the bike rack. Apart from lunchtime, when they practiced catch, it was about the only time they had a chance to talk. So when Justin got to school Monday morning, he wasn’t surprised to see Brad there waiting for him. He didn’t tell his friend about the invitation, though, because he didn’t get a chance.
Brad seemed agitated. Before Justin could get his bike parked, his friend spilled out some news about his own dad.
“Justin! Guess what? My dad’s got a gun!”
Justin turned to stare at him. “What would he want a gun for?”
“That’s what I’d like to know! Him and Mom have said a million times it’s not safe to have guns around the house because of, you know, accidents and all. But now he’s carrying one!”
“Carrying? Like in a holster?” This Justin could not picture, because Brad’s father was not a cowboy or a farmer. He was the kind of guy who went to work in a suit and tie and complained if the lawn sprinkler splashed on his well-polished shoes when he came up the walk.
“No!” Brad let out a nervous laugh, probably because he couldn’t imagine his dad with a gun holster either. Then he turned serious again, his face pinched and scared. “In the glove compartment. I thought I saw it in there a couple of weeks ago, but I didn’t have a chance to check it out till yesterday, when he left me in the car while he went to the ATM. It’s a real gun, Justin! With bullets in it!”
Justin shouldered his book bag and started walking toward the school building. He could see why Brad was worried, given how much his parents hated each other. There were news stories on TV almost every night about some angry person grabbing a gun and shooting somebody.
“Don’t worry,” Justin told Brad. “Your dad isn’t the violent type.”
“I guess not,” Brad said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
Justin hurried through lunch like always so he’d have time to practice catch with Brad. He stopped just for a minute as he was leaving the cafeteria to say hi to Kate’s friend Mary Ellen. He couldn’t believe that his sister had actually made friends with a cheerleader. Justin never missed a chance to check her out. Today she’d left the top three buttons on her shirt unbuttoned.
He caught up to Brad out in the hall. “Poor Justin.” Brad smirked. “You got it bad, huh?”
“What?” Justin asked innocently.
“I saw you looking down Mary Ellen’s shirt. Breathing so hard you steamed up her glasses!”
Justin swung his book bag at Brad. “You’re full of it, man! I just said hello.”
Brad caught the book bag and held on. “Wanna spend the weekend at my house? We can watch them practice cheerleading.” He wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully. “Up close,” he whispered. “With those new binoculars.”
Justin liked Brad a lot, but he really didn’t like going over to his house. He always got the feeling that Brad’s mother wasn’t crazy about him, and his father, when he was around, didn’t seem to like him at all. The thing about the gun worried him, too. Luckily, he had a good excuse to say no.
“I can’t this weekend. My dad invited me to visit.”
“Really? Your mom’s going to let you go?”
As they stopped at Brad’s locker to get the ball, Justin spilled out his plan. “Well, actually, I was going to ask you if I could tell her I’m spending the weekend at your house. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure! Think your dad’ll take you to a race?”
“Definitely.”
It was then that Justin saw Kate. She was standing in the middle of the hall staring straight at him. He could tell by the look on her face that she had heard.
Brad and Justin played catch for about twenty minutes, until the after-lunch bell rang. Justin didn’t go to his own classroom, but hurried down the hall to Kate’s fifth-period class. She’d already gone into the room, but came back out when she spotted him lurking by the door.
“What?” she asked.
“Please don’t tell Mom,” he said. “If she finds out, it won’t just be me in trouble. She’ll be mad at Dad, too. She might not let us see him anymore.”
“Obviously. That’s why you shouldn’t sneak around. Just ask if you can go.”
“I can’t. She might say no.”
“Don’t you trust your own mother?”
“She doesn’t trust me!”
“You don’t know that!” Kate argued.
Justin didn’t answer, because the truth was, he didn’t know.
“At least you could ask,” Kate snapped. “Before you mess it up for all of us.” The late bell sounded and she slipped back into the classroom.
Justin slouched down the hall to his own class. He certainly didn’t need another problem, but what could be a bigger problem than having Mom tell him he couldn’t go? Mom had been good about allowing him to go out with Dad, but he could tell that it upset her, especially when they got back late. They’d never even discussed the possibility of staying overnight with Charlie, much less visiting him out of town for a weekend.
Justin mulled it over all afternoon. By the time he got home, he knew he had to ask. He had no choice. Kate hadn’t promised not to tell. He figured that meant that if he didn’t talk to Mom about it, she would.
After supper, Justin waited until Chip had left the kitchen. When Kate got up to clear the table, she gave him a look that said, Now’s your chance. Go ahead!
He went to the sink and ran the dishwater, looking back from time to time. Kate picked up Mom’s dirty plate and her empty glass. Mom mumbled “thanks” but just sat there, staring at the place where the plate had been. She pressed her finger on a rip in the vinyl tablecloth several times, like that would fix it.
Justin knew this might not be the best time, but he didn’t dare wait. He took a deep breath and said, as casually as he could, “Dad can’t come up here this weekend.”
“Oh?” Mom glanced up. “Why not?”
“It’s race weekend. He wants me to come down there. You know. To see the kind of work he does.”
“That’s out of the question.”
“Just for two days. He gave me money for a bus ticket.”
“Well, you can give it right back to him!” Mom snapped.
Justin felt like he’d been slapped in the face. He gave Kate a look that said, This is all your fault! and slammed out the back door.
He stopped under the kitchen window so he could hear them talking—about him, naturally. As if his life was their business. Well, he thought angrily, they’re wrong about that. His life was his business, and one way or another he was going to prove it.
Inside, Kate was trying to undo the damage. “You have to let him go,” she pleaded. “Really, Mom. Don’t you see how important it is to him?”
“And what do you know about it, young lady?”
Mom probably felt like they were ganging up on her, but it wasn’t like that. Kate and I are definitely not on the same side on this one, Justin thought bitterly. But his sister was talking fast, giving her version of the situation.
“He was going to go without telling you, because he was afraid you’d say no. When I said he should trust you, he said the problem was you didn’t trust him. If you don’t let him go, that’ll just prove he was right!”
Justin waited for Mom’s answer, but there wasn’t one. He heard Kate beginning to wash the dishes—dishes he was supposed to wash but wasn’t going to tonight. Or maybe ever again. He walked away from the house and stood for a long time, staring down the highway. Maybe he would head down that highway one day just like Charlie and never come back.
He used to think about running away a lot last year, before he met Luther’s uncle, Booker, and before he made the baseball team. Now he was on the team, but for how long? His position wasn’t all that assured, not with his grades teetering on the edge like they were. Maybe someday soon he’d head down that highway with Charlie.
Later, Justin slipped inside and went to the room he shared with his brother. Chip was asleep, but the light was still on. Justin didn’t turn off the light or bother to undress. He lay on the bed, tossing a baseball into the air. The trick was to get it as close to the ceiling as possible without hitting it, and to catch it with only a flick of the wrist.
He’d been at it quite a while when he heard a soft knock. Mom came into the room, dressed in he
r white terry-cloth bathrobe. She sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t look at her but kept tossing and catching the ball as if she wasn’t there.
“You were thinking of going Friday, after school?” she asked in a strained voice.
“Yeah.”
Toss. Catch.
“Would your dad be meeting you at the station?”
“That was the plan.”
Toss. Catch.
“And you will take the bus home on Sunday afternoon?”
Justin caught the ball and held it. Had she said “you will”? Like she’d changed her mind? “Well, sure. How else would I get back in time for school?”
Mom didn’t answer. He saw worry wrinkles around her eyes, and added quickly, “I know I won’t get any homework done while I’m there. But I can do most of it in study hall on Friday. The rest I’ll do when I get home Sunday night. And there’s no baseball practice this weekend, either.”
Justin couldn’t imagine what other objections she might have, but she must have had some, because she still looked undecided.
Finally she sighed deeply and said, “Okay. But next time, promise you’ll check with me first?”
“Sure,” Justin said, barely able to keep from shouting for joy. “But there probably won’t be a next time,” he added. “He’ll be leaving pretty soon.”
Mom smiled sadly. “Charlie’s always leaving. No matter where he is, you can be sure he won’t be there long.”
14
Charlie’s World
It was nearly ten at night when Justin arrived at the bus station in Miami. People rushed past him on their way to catch buses or meet friends. Others sat glumly in plastic chairs, waiting for their departure time to be announced. Justin scanned the lobby for his dad, checked at the snack bar, even looked in the restroom. Eventually he had to admit that Charlie was simply not there. Then it occurred to him that maybe his dad was waiting outside at the curb. He hurried out. No Charlie there, either.
