A Whole Nother Story (13 page)

“No, actually I haven’t,” said Jough. “I guess we’ve been busy getting moved in and everything.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure you will hear me eventually. It’s my dream to one day play bass drum for the London Philharmonic. So where are you from?”

“That’s hard to say,” said Jough. “We’ve moved around so much, I sort of forget where we’re from.”

“Is your dad in the army or something?”

“No. It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell it to you one day.”

“Maybe Saturday,” said Elliot.

“Saturday? Why Saturday?”

“That’s when they’re holding baseball tryouts. I thought maybe I could go with you. Show you around a bit.”

“Sure,” said Jough. “That’d be great.”

“Maybe when you make it to the big leagues, I could be your agent,” said Elliot. “I’m very good with numbers.”

“Sure,” said Jough. “If I ever need an agent, I’ll definitely keep you in mind.”

While Jough was becoming acquainted with Elliot, Gerard was busy in the field at the end of the street, picking through the giant mounds of dirt. It was Sunday, so no construction work was being done, which gave Gerard complete freedom to look for interestingly shaped dirt clods at his own pace. Just as he picked one up that looked remarkably like former U.S. president Millard Fillmore, another dirt clod, shaped like no one in particular, came sailing through the air and hit him in the side of the head, splattering into hundreds of much smaller dirt clods as it did.

“Ouch,” Gerard cried as he dropped the Millard Fillmore dirt clod and rubbed his head. He wheeled around to see two boys, each about the same age as himself, standing about twenty feet away. Though it was hard to get a good look at them with the sun at their backs, Gerard could see that in each boy’s hand was a dirt clod.

“Hey, you hit me,” Gerard said.

“That’s right,” said the taller of the two boys. “And we’ll do it again if you don’t stay away from our fort.”

“I’m not after your fort,” said Gerard. “I’m just looking for dirt clods. I don’t even know where your stupid fort is.”

The two boys looked at each other, trying to decide whether Gerard was telling the truth. They decided he must have been, because if he
had
actually seen their glorious fort, he wouldn’t dare to call it stupid. The boys walked toward Gerard but kept their dirt clods in hand, just in case.

“You’re that new kid, aren’t you,” said the shorter of the two boys. “What’s that on your hand?”

“This is Steve,” said Gerard.

“Hello there,” said Steve, in his squeaky sock-puppet voice.

“I saw your lips move,” the taller of the two boys said, pointing at Gerard’s mouth.

“So?” said Gerard. “I never said I was a ventrickolist. I’m just a normal kid. And Steve’s just an old sock puppet.”

“Hey! I heard that,” said Steve.

The boys laughed.

“He may be just an old sock puppet,” said the shorter of the two. “But you’re not a normal kid, that’s for sure.”

“See?” said Steve. “I told you you weren’t normal.”

The boys laughed again, then introduced themselves as Tommy and Danny Codgill, Tommy being the taller of the two, Danny being his slightly shorter, slightly younger brother.

“You wanna see our fort?” Tommy said.

“It’s a secret spy fort,” added Danny.

“Sure,” said Gerard. “I’d love to see it.”

“Me too,” said Steve.

“Okay. But until we’re sure we can trust you, you’ve gotta put on this blindfold until we get there,” said Tommy, producing a red bandanna from the pocket of his shorts.

“Wait a minute,” said Gerard. “How do I know I can trust you? Once I’m blindfolded, you could lead me right into one of these big holes and I could break my leg.”

“We wouldn’t do that,” said Danny. “We won’t do anything that might hurt you. We promise.”

“Just five minutes ago you hit me in the head with a dirt clod,” Gerard reminded them.

“He’s right about that,” Tommy said to his younger brother. “All right then. Let’s forget the blindfold. But you gotta swear not to tell anyone where the secret spy fort is located.”

“I swear,” said Gerard.

“Me too,” said Steve.

As it turns out, the fort was located not far from where they were standing, which might explain why Tommy and Danny were suspicious of Gerard’s reasons for being in the area. It was hidden amid a patch of tall weeds. The fort was constructed mostly of plywood, rusty nails, and tarpaper.

“This is it,” said Tommy. “The secret fort.”

“Cool,” said Gerard. “Where’d you get the stuff to make it?”

Tommy and Danny looked at each other moving only their eyes. “Borrowed it,” they said in unison.

“From the construction site,” said Tommy. “They’ll never miss it.”

The secret spy fort was only about three feet tall, so even someone as short as Gerard had to crawl on his hands and knees to get inside. And, once inside, Gerard was able to see, with the help of the official fort flashlight, all of the fabulous secret spy equipment therein.

There were the secret spy fort binoculars, which were constructed of two empty toilet paper tubes glued together. There was the secret spy fort walkie-talkie. Just one. The other had gone missing months ago and this one had no batteries, so it was strictly ornamental at this point. And there was the official spy fort slingshot, suitable for firing rocks, marbles, or dirt clods at any and all intruders.

Tommy and Danny each took a seat on upside-down plastic pickle barrels that served as the official fort chairs, of which there were only two, which left Gerard to sit in the dirt.

“Well, you were right,” he said, taking in his surroundings. “It is a pretty cool fort. But you could use some better spy equipment. I mean, look at these binoculars. They’re just two toilet paper tubes glued together.”

“So,” said Tommy, snatching the paper binoculars from Gerard’s unappreciative hands. “What do you know about spy equipment anyway?”

“I know a lot about it,” Gerard shot back. “My family is on the run from government agents.”

“You’re lying.”

Now, Gerard knew better than to divulge family secrets but he was not about to stand by and be called a liar by a couple of boys with binoculars made of toilet paper tubes.

“I’m not lying.”

“Why would government agents be chasing after you and your dumb family anyway?” Danny sneered.

“Because my father is a scientist and has invented something they can’t wait to get their hands on. And there are other people, too, not just the government. The people who killed our mom. They’ll do anything they can to steal the invention. We’ve been traveling across the country, trying to stay ahead of them so that my dad can finish building it.”

“It’s true,” said Steve.

“Okay,” said Tommy. “And what does this machine do that’s so great?”

“I can’t tell you,” said Gerard. “It’s top secret.”

The two boys did not look impressed. In fact, they looked downright annoyed.

“You have to leave now,” said Danny. “We don’t allow liars in our fort.”

“Shut up,” shouted Gerard. “I’m not a liar!” Gerard punctuated his assertion by reaching out and shoving Danny off his pickle drum and into the dirt.

“Okay, that’s it,” said Danny. “Let’s fight.”

Besides the fact that Gerard was outnumbered two to one, he really had no desire to fight Tommy and Danny. In fact, all he really wanted was to make new friends and to become a member of their stupid spy fort even if it was equipped with binoculars made from toilet paper tubes. He decided to take another approach toward a friendly resolution of the situation.

“Okay,” said Gerard. “We can fight if you want. But before we do, I just have one question.”

“What’s that?” asked Danny with a smirkish look.

“Does your spy fort have any arrowheads?”

“Arrowheads?” asked Tommy, suddenly less interested in the potential for a fight. “You mean like real ones?”

“I mean like this,” said Gerard, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the arrowhead.

The boys gasped as they moved closer to Gerard and marveled at the small stone artifact as if it were the world’s rarest of diamonds.

“Where did you get that?” said Danny.

“I got it from a cowboy named Buck.”

“I’m serious. Where did you get it?”

“I told you. From a cowboy named Buck. He’s a poet, too. We met him when we were camping out in the desert. We helped him with his poetry so he gave me, my brother, and my sister each an arrowhead.”

“We need to make a bow right away,” said Tommy excitedly. “Then we can try it out and see if it works.”

“It’ll help protect us from intruders,” said Danny.

“And we can use it for hunting,” said Tommy.

“No, no, it’s not for shooting or hunting,” said Gerard.“It’s too valuable for that. It’s for saving. And for good luck.”

Tommy looked at Danny and shrugged. Danny shrugged back.

“Okay,” said Tommy. “You can be a member of our secret spy fort. But you have to swear to follow the special fort rules.”

Tommy went on to explain the many rules involved in becoming a member of the secret spy fort. These included promising to never divulge the fort’s location to anyone (especially teachers, parents, and girls), pledging to protect the fort from any and all intruders, fighting to the death if necessary, and demonstrating that you know at least three swear words.

“I do so know three swear words,” said Gerard.

“Okay,” said Tommy, “let’s hear ’em.”

“Well, I’m not going to say them out loud. I don’t think my dad would like that very much. And my mom is watching me from up in heaven, so I don’t want to disappoint her. How about if I just say that I know them?”

Once more Tommy looked at Danny, who shrugged again. Gerard casually tossed the arrowhead into the air and caught it.

“Okay,” said Tommy. “You’re in. But you have to bring the arrowhead with you whenever you come to the fort.”

“Don’t worry. I keep it with me wherever I go. I told you, it’s good luck.”

In a brief ceremony involving dirt, spit, and one of the plastic pickle barrels used for ritualistic drumming, Gerard was officially sworn in as the newest member of the secret spy fort. The three boys talked for hours after that. Gerard learned that his two new friends, together with their mother and father and older sister, lived on the other side of the field that had once been an apple orchard.

They said their father was a policeman, which made Gerard even a little sorrier that he had told them about the LVR and about the government agents and all that. He was glad now that they hadn’t believed his story and he promised himself that from that day forward he would keep his big, fat mouth shut.

CHAPTER 19

W
hile Jough was busy making friends with Elliot and Gerard was busy revealing family secrets to two kids who had hit him in the head with a dirt clod, Maggie was taking Pinky for a walk and exploring her new neighborhood.

Because Pinky was in a permanent state of extreme hairlessness, this activity required serious preparation, especially in the month of June, when the sun’s rays were very direct. Before Pinky could go out, Maggie first had to coat the animal with a generous layer of sunscreen lotion, a process that Pinky enjoyed slightly less than having the vet check her for ringworm.

Still, she preferred it to the only alternatives, which were to either stay in the house all day or to go out wearing a bizarre-looking contraption Mr. Cheeseman had invented called the Bum-brella, which consisted of a harness that attached to the dog’s backside into which a large parasol could be inserted, keeping Pinky constantly in the shade.

Luckily for Pinky, Maggie patently refused to be seen in public walking a dog with an umbrella protruding from its bum. Even without the Bum-brella, Maggie got some rather strange looks just by walking a dog with no hair. One of the looks she got was from a young girl sitting on the sidewalk in front of a two-story gray and white house.

With different colors of chalk, the girl was creating a very impressive piece of artwork right there on that sidewalk. Maggie and Pinky stopped for a moment to watch as the girl put the finishing touches on a drawing of nothing in particular that was still quite fabulous to look at.

“That’s very nice,” said Maggie. “I like the colors.”

“Your dog has no hair,” the girl said with a slight giggle.

“I know. She lost all her hair years ago. It’s a long story,” said Maggie, trying not to think about the terrible circumstances that lead to Pinky’s irreversible baldness.

“She looks like a pig,” said the girl.

“She eats like a pig, too. And she drinks from the toilet.”

“That’s funny. I once had a cat who liked to chase cars.”

“Really? What happened to him?”

“He liked to chase cars.”

“Oh. I see.”

The girl gave Pinky an affectionate pat until she realized her hands were covered with colored chalk and now so was Pinky’s head.

“Sorry about that,” she said, standing up and wiping her hands on her white denim shorts, which were white no longer.

The first thing Maggie noticed about the girl was that, unless she was actually a thirty-year-old woman posing as a young girl, she was very tall for her age.

“My name’s Aurora. Aurora Codgill.”

“I’m Maggie. I just moved here a couple days ago. We live in a pink house on the other side of the field.”

“Yes, I know that house very well. The Blithedales used to live there. They had to move because they had way too many children for such a small house. Five children. And do you know that they all had names beginning with the letter
L
? Larry, Lisa, Leroy, Lonnie, and Lucille. Their parents were Leonard and Linda and they had a little black dog named Licorice. Is that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard or what?”

“I suppose it is,” agreed Maggie, who had actually heard things far more ridiculous than that. “And I can see how the house would be too small for them. I live there with my dad and my two brothers.”

“I’m just glad there are more kids in the neighborhood. Before the Blithedales lived there it was the Parkhills, who had just one child, and before that it was Mr. and Mrs. Nuñez, who had no children at all.”

“You seem to know a lot about our house,” said Maggie.

“I know a lot about all the houses in this neighborhood. I’ve lived here all my life, so I’ve been inside most of them, including your house. Lucille and I used to play together in the backyard.”

“Well, maybe you’d like to come over sometime.”

“Sure,” said Aurora. “If you don’t mind being seen with someone so freakishly tall.”

“What? Oh don’t be silly. You’re not freakishly tall. I mean, you are very tall, but I wouldn’t say freakishly so.”

“It’s okay,” said Aurora. “I know I am. That’s why my two creepy little brothers call me Aurorasaurus. They think I look like a dinosaur.”

“I don’t think you look like a dinosaur at all. I think you look pretty. Besides, I bet you can run awfully fast with those long legs.”

“Not fast enough to catch my little brothers, unfortunately.”

“Little brothers can be so annoying sometimes, can’t they?”

“You can say that again. Luckily my brothers spend most of their time in their stupid old fort out in the field. In fact, they’re there right now, so it’s safe if you’d like to come in for a glass of lemonade.”

“I’d love to,” said Maggie. “But Pinky . . .”

“She can come too.”

Inside, the house was clean and tidy and smelled like food, though which kind of food Maggie couldn’t be sure.

“Would you like to see my room?” asked Aurora.

Aurora’s room was covered, wall-to-wall and ceiling-to-floor, with the many colorful paintings and drawings she had done, some landscapes, some still life, and others, like the one on the sidewalk, of nothing in particular.

“Wow,” said Maggie. “Did you do all these?”

“Do you like them?”

“Like them? They’re fantastic.”

“Thanks,” said Aurora shyly. “I’d like to be an artist when I grow up.”

“When you growup?” said Maggie. “You’re an artist now.”

“Thanks,” said Aurora. “But I mean for real. I would live in a little house by the sea and I would sell my paintings to people from New York and London and Portugal.”

“I wish I could do anything as well as you paint.”

“I’m sure there must be plenty of things you can do well,” said Aurora.

“I guess I’m pretty good at algebra, geography, physics, and archery.”

“Archery? You mean like bows and arrows? I would love to learn how to do that.”

“Hey, how about this? You teach me how to paint, and I’ll teach you how to shoot.”

“Deal,” said Aurora, reaching out with her right hand.

As Maggie shook hands with her new friend, she noticed another painting, sitting on the floor. It was a portrait of a handsome young man.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“Oh, that,” said Aurora, looking somewhat embarrassed.“That’s Dean Greenfield.”

“Who’s Dean Greenfield?”

“Just a boy in my class. I used to like him, I guess.”

“Oh. What happened?”

“Well, let’s just say he was not quite as taken with me as I was with him. In fact, he was the first to call me Aurorasaurus. Now he’s got everyone saying it, including my stupid little brothers.”

“He sounds absolutely horrible,” said Maggie. “What are you going to do with the painting?”

“I don’t know. I thought I might paint a pair of goat horns on him. Or maybe give him buckteeth and a unibrow.”

“I have a better idea,” said Maggie. Before she could expound upon this, she looked down and noticed that Pinky was no longer by her side. She called for the dog but Pinky didn’t come. Then she heard a very familiar sound and followed it down the hallway, where she found Pinky, in the guest bathroom, very happily drinking from the toilet.

“Pinky, get out of there,” she scolded. “Sorry about that, Aurora.”

“No problem,” said Aurora, who found the whole thing quite funny and was just happy to have met someone who loved her artwork and did not think she, in any way, resembled a dinosaur.

As Pinky trotted out of the bathroom well hydrated, Maggie noticed a photograph of Aurora’s parents hanging in the hallway, her father dressed in a policeman’s uniform, his large dimpled chin looking very much like a baby’s bare bottom.

“So your dad’s a police officer, I see.”

“He’s a police captain, actually.”

“That seems like an exciting job.”

“Not in this town it’s not,” said Aurora. “There’s no crime here. Of course my dad says that will all change once they finish building that big factory outside of town.”

“What kind of factory?”

“I’m not sure,” said Aurora. “I think they’re going to make microwave ovens.”