by Rosa Jordan
Justin started to undo the twine around the box, but the knots were too tight. Finally he gave up and lifted the sack of grain out of the box. He was just passing it over the fence to Kate when he heard a blood-curdling scream. Kate dropped the sack and both of them sprinted for the barn. Kate reached the ladder first and was starting up when Lily’s face appeared in the opening above, her eyes filled with terror.
“It’s him!” she shrieked.
Luther’s face appeared next to Lily’s. “Grimsted!”
Then Chip’s face joined theirs. It was streaked with dirt and his blond hair was filled with cobwebs. “Quick! Hide Little Billy!”
“Hide yourselves!” Justin yelled. To Kate he said, “Keep everybody quiet! Whatever happens, don’t let him know you’re here.”
“What about Little Billy?”
“Leave it to me!”
Justin scooped the little goat up in his arms. His intention was to make a dash for the woods on the far side of the weedy pasture. But he was only a few feet from the pen when he realized that there was no way to hurry through the snarl of hiphigh thorn bushes that covered the open area between him and the trees. Slowed down by the thorns catching in his clothes, he would be in plain view, carrying Little Billy, when Grimsted drove up!
In a split second Justin invented a new plan. It took only a minute to put it into effect. By then he could see a cloud of dust that told him Grimsted’s station wagon would appear any minute. He adjusted the big box on the back of his bike one more time, glad he had tied it on so well back at the feed store.
As soon as Grimsted came into view, Justin pedaled out into the road and headed in the opposite direction. As Justin expected, when Grimsted saw him running away, he didn’t stop at the Old Place but sped to catch up to him. Justin waited until the car was fairly close, then veered to the right, skidded off the road, and headed straight out across the plowed field. Grimsted cut down another dirt road, plainly intending to head him off on the other side of the field. As soon as the station wagon was well on its way down that road, Justin changed directions.
Grimsted circled the field again. The car was faster, but because it had to stay on the roads that ran along the edges of the fields, it couldn’t change directions as fast as the bike. Justin made it to the next road over, into the next field, and then the next. He didn’t know how long he could keep it up, though. It was the hardest bike riding he had ever done, and he was nearly out of breath.
Grimsted, when he saw he wasn’t gaining on Justin, turned abruptly and cut straight across a plowed field. Justin made it back onto a hard-packed dirt road and began pedaling for all he was worth. The dusty maroon station wagon roared up and cut in front of Justin, forcing him to skid the bike to a stop.
“Gosh, Mr. Grimsted,” Justin panted. “You could wreck your car driving like that.”
“You’re the one about to get wrecked. Open that blasted box! I know what you’ve got in there!”
“No!” Justin shouted, flinging one arm over the box. “It’s mine!”
“Oh yeah?” Grimsted jerked a knife out of his pocket and slashed the twine. The cardboard lid flopped open.
But what pushed out was not the white head of a small goat. It was a large brown prickly mass.
Grimsted’s eyes bulged. “Dry weeds?”
“For a class project,” Justin grinned. “You ever seen weeds spray-painted? They’re real pretty.”
Grimsted gingerly pulled the weeds out of the box and looked in, as if he thought there might be room for Little Billy in there, too.
“By the way, sir, did you ever find your goat?”
Grimsted glared at him. “Not yet, boy, but I will.”
“Why don’t you look over there?” Justin grinned in a mocking way and pointed to the tumbledown barn on the Old Place. “If it wasn’t for all the snakes around there, that’d be a good place to hide a goat.”
“Yeah, that’s just what I—” Grimsted stopped and gave Justin an angry look. “Think you’re going to send me on another wild goose chase, do you? Well, go ahead, punk, have your little joke! But for your information, I’m not stupid!” He jabbed a finger so close to Justin’s face that if Justin hadn’t jerked his head back, it would have poked him right in the eye. “Nobody makes a fool out of Corky Grimsted, see?”
“Yes sir! I mean, no sir, sir!” Justin said, looking scared. Actually, he was scared. Grimsted still had the knife in his hand. It was only a pocketknife, but it was enough to make Justin push his bike backwards, putting some distance between himself and Grimsted.
Grimsted looked down at the knife, and probably to show he wasn’t threatening Justin with it, he folded it up and put it back in his pocket. But what he said as he climbed back in his car sounded downright menacing.
“I’m going to find my goat, boy. And if you’re responsible—and I know you are—I’m going to see to it that you get prosecuted.”
The station wagon roared away, leaving Justin in a cloud of dust. He watched until the car had completely disappeared and waited a few minutes longer to be sure Grimsted wasn’t coming back. Then he got on his bike and rode slowly back to the Old Place.
As Justin came to a stop next to the fence, he saw Kate struggling through the weeds to reach the spot where he’d left Little Billy. It wasn’t possible to see the goat, but he could certainly hear him. If Grimsted had stopped there, he wouldn’t have had any trouble following those plaintive bleats to where Billy was hidden.
“We were watching you!” Chip said breathlessly.
“We thought you had Little Billy in the box!” Luther added.
“When you hit that rise and took some air, I though he’d pop right out!” Lily shouted.
Kate came back leading Little Billy. She handed Justin a bandanna to wipe the sweat and dust off his face. “You were great,” she said, her eyes shining with admiration. “I never would’ve thought of doing what you did.”
Justin looked from one kid to the other. They were all so happy, he hated to say what he was thinking. But he said it anyway.
“Grimsted will be back.”
20
LUTHER’S DECISION
Justin went to a rusty water pump and pumped hard for a couple of minutes until clear water came out of the spout. He drank some, then washed his face. Chip took over at the pump handle so Justin could stick his head under the cool flow of water.
“What are we going to do?” Chip asked when Justin came up for air.
“I don’t know.” Justin flopped down flat on the grass and closed his eyes. “Anybody got any ideas?”
Kate sat down beside him and started braiding some strands of grass together. They unfolded at one end as fast as she braided them at the other.
“That’s not working,” Lily said, sitting down beside her.
“I know,” Kate said. “Like my ideas. As soon as I start one, I think of why it won’t work.”
Chip sat down across from Kate and Lily. Little Billy lowered his head and butted Chip to let him know he wanted to be scratched between his new horns.
Luther, a little apart from the others, sat very still. The rabbit slipped through the grass and, with a hop, landed in Luther’s lap. He stroked it gently.
Kate kept braiding the grass. Chip kept scratching Little Billy’s head. Luther kept petting the rabbit. Even Lily seemed to be at a loss for words.
“Well?” Justin sat up. “You all had a million ideas about getting Little Billy out of Grimsted’s garage. How about some ideas on what to do now?”
“That’s not fair,” Lily muttered.
“What’s not fair?”
“How do you expect us to think of something? You’re the oldest.”
Justin stared up at the sky. “I know it’s my responsibility. I just don’t know what to do.”
There was another long silence, then Luther spoke up. “I already did it,” he said in a small voice.
“Did what?” Lily asked.
“Something,” Luther said, b
arely whispering.
They all stared at him, their small black friend holding a white rabbit so big it covered his entire lap and then some.
“Tell us, Luther,” Kate demanded. “What did you do?”
“Don’t be mad at me.” Luther folded over and buried his face in the rabbit’s soft fur.
The other four looked at each other. They all knew Luther was too young to have done anything on his own, and if he had, he surely would have told Chip, who was his best friend.
Chip crawled over and put a hand on Luther’s knee. “Did you tell?” he asked softly.
Luther’s face was still hidden in the rabbit’s furry back, so all they could see were the black curls on the top of his head. The head nodded.
Justin’s mind quickly ran through a list of people he might have told. Luther lived with his mother and his grandparents, and he trusted all of them. But if he had told his mom or the Wilsons, they would have phoned Mom right away. Who else was there? Ruby’s boyfriend, who just happened to be his math teacher? Oh please! Justin thought. Not Mr. Jackson!
“Luther,” he said, as calmly as he could. “Take your face out of that rabbit and look at me.”
Slowly Luther lifted his head.
“Who did you tell?”
Now Luther was shaking his head. “I didn’t—”
“Come on, Luth,” Justin raised his voice. “Who did you tell?”
Luther started petting the rabbit again. His small hand was shaking. “Uncle Booker.”
There was a moment of dead silence, then a sound like everyone taking in and letting out a deep breath at the same time. Justin was so relieved he couldn’t even speak.
“Who’s Uncle Booker?” Lily asked.
“My uncle,” Luther said.
“You said that. But who is he? Is he a black man?”
“Course he’s a black man!” Luther shouted. “You think I’d have a Chinese uncle like you?” Luther put his fingers up to his eyelids and pulled them so they slanted.
“I’m not Chinese,” Lily yelled, jumping to her feet. “I’m American! My uncles are Japanese-American, like me!”
“Well, Uncle Booker’s African-American, like me!” Luther yelled back. “And if you don’t like it, you’re a racist.”
Lily balled up her fist and headed for Luther. Kate caught her by the back of the T-shirt and jerked her down on her behind. “Sit down! And shut up, both of you. Nobody here’s a racist.”
“I just asked who Booker is,” Lily pouted. “And if he’s black. That’s not racist.”
“Booker is Ruby’s brother,” Kate said. “He’s a baseball coach at a college up in Atlanta.”
“He’s the best baseball player ever to come out of this town,” Justin stated.
“He hasn’t got any legs,” Chip put in.
Lily looked at them like they were crazy. “How can he be a baseball player without legs?”
“That was before he went in the army and stepped on a land mine in the desert and got his legs blown off,” Justin explained.
“Just the bottom part,” Luther said. “He’s still got the part above where his knees used to be.”
Lily cocked her head to one side, trying to take all this in. “So he can’t walk? Or drive a car? Or anything like that?”
Justin laughed. “Booker Wilson can do just about anything except walk. He’s got a wheelchair, and a van with special hand controls. He knows ten times more about baseball than my coach. And he’s—well, amazing.” Justin was remembering the way Booker could rock back in his wheelchair and put a ball across the plate exactly the way he wanted.
“Yeah,” Luther said. “Amazing.”
It occurred to Justin that Booker hadn’t been to visit his family since Christmas. Suddenly suspicious, he asked Luther, “When did you see Booker to tell him?”
“I didn’t see him. I phoned him.”
“When?”
“Last night. I thought he was coming home for spring break, but Mama said he was planning to visit his girlfriend’s family in Orlando. So I called him.” Luther looked around at their anxious faces. “After everybody went to bed. Nobody heard me!”
“What exactly did you tell him?” Justin asked.
Luther’s small dark fingers walked up the rabbit’s back and scratched between its long floppy ears. “I asked him to please come home. I told him I was in trouble and might go to jail.”
Justin groaned.
“Did you tell him it was about Little Billy?” Chip asked.
Luther shook his head.
“Did you mention us?” Kate wanted to know.
Again Luther shook his head. “I think his girlfriend was there. I could hear them whispering. I heard her say, ‘Don’t go, Booker.’ And kissy sounds.”
Normally that would have set them giggling, but nobody giggled now. Nobody even smiled.
“So, is he coming?” Chip asked.
“He said he would.”
“When?”
“I don’t know for sure.”
“Can he just take off like that?” Justin asked. “What about his job?”
“I told you,” Luther said. “His spring break is before ours. He’s off all this coming-up week.”
Lily looked scared. “Will he tell our parents?”
“Don’t worry,” Justin said. “Booker won’t tell, and he won’t make us take Little Billy back. He’s the one grown-up in the world I know we can trust.”
What amazed Justin most was that he hadn’t thought of Booker himself.
21
BOOKER
Except for Lily, who had to go somewhere with her mother, they were all waiting in the Wilsons’ front yard Sunday morning, each one hoping to be the first to spot Booker’s silver van bouncing up Lost Goat Lane. They were still waiting when Luther’s grandma, Mrs. Wilson, called them up on the porch for sandwiches and lemonade. The sandwiches were long gone by the time the van pulled up in front of the house.
There was Booker, looking the same as he had last Thanksgiving, when Justin had seen him for the first time. The man’s broad shoulders and muscular arms made him look like the greatest jock you’d ever hope to meet, and his broad smile made him look like the happiest.
The other kids rushed toward the van, but Justin held back. He was recalling how shocked he’d been when Booker came around the van in a wheelchair, his jeans-covered legs ending just above the knees. Justin also remembered how Booker had whipped a baseball out of the side pocket of his wheelchair and rocketed it toward him. When Justin automatically reached up to catch the ball, it had smacked his hand so hard it stung for an hour.
Luther piled into Booker’s lap and hugged him. Justin heard Booker say, “I changed my spring break plans just for you, buddy. This better be serious.”
“It is, Booker,” Chip said. “Real serious.”
Justin and Kate came closer. Booker looked from one face to another. “Am I right in surmising that you are all in this together?”
“Yes sir,” Justin said.
“It wasn’t anybody’s fault, just—” Kate stopped in midsentence. Ruby and Mr. and Mrs. Wilson came rushing out of the house to greet Booker.
“How about after supper?” Booker suggested.
They all nodded. Luther whispered, “We’ll take you to our hideout.”
Mrs. Wilson invited the Martin kids to stay for dinner, but Mom had already told them not to because it was Booker’s first night home and she was sure he would want to spend it with his family.
“We’ll be back later,” Justin promised.
Justin, Kate, and Chip went over to the nursery to ask Mom if it was okay for them to go for a walk with Booker after supper. Knowing that Lily wanted to meet Booker, they asked Mr. Hashimoto if she could eat with them and go on the walk. He agreed and they promised to have her home before it got too dark.
The sun was near to setting when Luther and Booker came out of the house. Booker rolled down the wheelchair ramp Mr. Wilson had built for him and out to the r
oad where Justin, Kate, Chip, and Lily were waiting.
Everybody was wearing a serious expression, and except for introducing Booker and Lily, nobody said much until they turned down the dirt road leading to the Old Place.
Booker grinned. “I had an idea this was where we were going. This used to be my hideout, too.”
“Now it’s ours,” Luther explained. “And—”
Just then they heard the bleating of a goat. Booker started wheeling his chair faster. The chair had a motor but Booker hardly ever used it. He had strong arms, and when he sped up like that, the kids had to trot to keep up.
Booker pulled up next to the corral fence and stared at Little Billy, who was on his hind legs, peering through the rails. Billy bleated again.
“Well, well. What have we got here?” Booker exclaimed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was Old Billy’s son. I thought you sold him.”
“I did,” Justin said.
“Then what’s he doing here?”
“We brought him here,” Lily said.
“We stole him,” Luther muttered.
Booker turned to stare at his nephew. “You stole him?”
“We rescued him,” Kate said. “We all helped. Justin borrowed Dad’s car and Lily stood guard while Chip and Luther piled up boxes so I could climb in the window and get him—”
“Out of this really dark garage where he was locked up!” Luther cried.
“Little Billy didn’t want to go in, so that man kicked him. Like this!” Lily jabbed her foot out hard to demonstrate.
“We couldn’t leave him in there,” Chip said.
Lily reached through the fence and scratched Little Billy’s head. “He ate a hole in my dress. The one we used to cover him up when we were kidnapping him.”
“So now we’ve got him here, and we don’t know what to do,” Kate explained. “He doesn’t like being out here all by himself. And what if somebody finds him?”
Booker swung his wheelchair in a slow circle, looking each one of them in the eye. He stopped at Justin, and spoke directly to him.
“Let me get this straight. You kids have committed a burglary. And now you want to make me an accomplice?”
