The Birthday Party of No Return! (9 page)

At dinner that night, I felt tense. I waited for something bad to happen.

Would I scald my mouth on the soup? Knock my spaghetti on the floor? Fall off my chair and break my neck?

When that didn't happen, it made me even more nervous.

I kept picturing the claw in the trash can behind the garage. Was it still too nearby? Could it still cause me all kinds of danger?

Dad wiped the spaghetti sauce off his chin and turned to me with a solemn expression. “I've got bad news, Lee,” he said softly.

I gasped. “Wh-what?” I stammered.

A smile slowly crossed his face. “I could only get tickets in the second row for the Stampede game next Saturday night,” he said.

Of course, he was making a joke.

“That's awesome!” I cried. “Second row. Wow!”

He nodded. “We'll have fun.”

“Dad, what day do they pick up the trash?” I asked.

He squinted at me. “The trash? It's out back? Why?”

I shrugged. “Just wondering.”

“Tomorrow, I think,” Mom said. “Why on earth do you care about the trash, Lee?”

I had to think fast. “Uh … we're studying trash in school,” I said.

Pretty good answer — right?

We had chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Just as we were finishing, the doorbell rang.

I shut my eyes. The sound sent a shiver down my back.

Was someone bringing bad news? Was my bad luck starting up again?

I hurried to the front door. Pulled it open — and let out a cry.

“Laura!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

She made a face at me. “Oh. Nice welcome. Thanks. Great to see you, too.”

I could feel myself blushing. “But — But —” I sputtered. “I didn't expect —”

She rolled her eyes. “I texted you twice this afternoon. Don't you read your texts? I said I was coming over to fill out the science work sheets with you.”

“Uh …
really
?”

I couldn't believe it. Laura came over to do homework with me. That was definitely good news.

Maybe … just maybe … the evil spell of the claw had ended.

She was wearing a yellow sweater over a blue T-shirt and dark jeans with silver studs around the pockets.

She pushed past me into the house, bumping me with her backpack. Mom and Dad greeted her from the dining room. She followed me in. Mom offered her some cookies.

I picked up a cookie, bit off a big chunk of it — and it went down the wrong pipe. I started to choke.

I made a horrible wheezing sound. I couldn't breathe in or out.

Dad slapped me hard on the back. A wet glob of cookie came flying out of my mouth and splatted the front of Laura's sweater.

She lifted it off with two fingers and set it down on a plate. “You're gross,” she said.

“I think Arfy taught him how to eat,” Dad said.

It was a joke. A really lame joke. But Laura laughed like it was a riot.

Did the claw make me choke?
I asked myself. I pictured it in the trash can out back.
Was it still too nearby?

Laura and I went into the den to fill out the science sheets. We sat down beside each other on the green leather couch and rested the papers on the coffee table in front of us.

I couldn't relax. I couldn't concentrate.

I was so totally ready for disaster.

Laura had to do most of the work.

The vulture claw was just too close to forget about.

“Hey, I was hit by a car this afternoon,” I blurted out.

Laura gazed hard at me. “Ha!” she said. “I don't get it.”

“It's not a joke,” I said. “I was hit by a car. Really.”

“And you got up and walked away?” she said. “Who are you supposed to be? Superman?”

“Never mind,” I muttered. I could see she was not going to believe me.

Laura tapped her pencil on the coffee table. “You know, I'm playing in the football game tomorrow morning, too,” she said.

“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “So?”

“So you and Cory don't think that I have a chance — do you?”

“Of course you have a chance,” I said. I groaned. “You're way ahead of me.”

“You and Cory are both total weirdos,” she said. She poked me in the stomach with the eraser end of her pencil.

“We are not!” I said. “Why are we weirdos?”

“Walking around wearing those ugly claw things?” she said, shaking her head. “I couldn't believe when you tried to give him one, and he already had one.”

“Yeah. That was a
little
weird,” I admitted. Then I added: “But I got rid of mine.”

Laura's mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“I dumped mine in the trash out back,” I said. “It was bad news. I don't believe in good-luck charms.”

She laughed. “You're going to
need
a good-luck charm at the game tomorrow. I'm going to
trash
both you guys.”

We filled out the work sheets. I don't think glaciers are very interesting. But Miss Harrison must like them a lot. She keeps giving us assignment after assignment about the glaciers.

Laura and I had a few more cookies. In fact, we finished the plate. Then she went home. “Good luck tomorrow,” she said as she stepped out the door.

I'll need it
, I thought.

My last chance.

Later, I changed into my pajamas and got ready for bed. I felt restless. My stomach kept growling and groaning.

I knew I couldn't relax until the trash was picked up and the claw was carried away.

A soft breeze blew my curtains. I stepped up to my window and gazed outside. My window faces the backyard. I could see Dad's vegetable garden.

The tomato plants tilted on their poles. A branch had fallen off the maple tree next to the garage. It lay in the grass, raised at one end like a fat snake.

Moonlight made the grass shimmer like silver. And … and…

What was that dark object slithering through the silver grass?

Like a dark glove scrabbling toward the house.

I stared down at it, frozen in terror. I watched it slide and crawl through the bright moonlight.

The claw. The claw …
crawling back
.

“Nooooooo.” I sent a horrified howl out the window. “Nooooooo.”

I spun away from the window and took a deep breath. I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples.

This can't be happening.

This is impossible.

The claw was crawling to the house, bringing its bad luck back to me.

Returning so that it could ruin my chances tomorrow morning.

No. No way!

Before I realized what I was doing, I was running barefoot down the stairs. The house was dark. Mom and Dad must have been sound asleep.

I was in my pajamas, but I didn't care. I burst out the kitchen door and ran into the backyard. My bare feet slipped and slid on the wet, dewy grass.

A cool breeze blew against my hot face. My pajama shirt fluttered like a kite in the wind.

White moonlight poured over the lawn. The backyard gleamed, almost as bright as day.

Where is it? Where?

My eyes scanned the lawn as I ran. I had to find it.

What would I do with it when I did? Heave it as far as I could?

I jumped over the fallen tree limb. The old maple tree creaked and groaned in the strong breeze.

In the bright moonlight, I could see every weed, every blade of grass.

And there it was! The dark claw! Scrabbling slowly … so slowly … through the wet grass.

I stopped, my heart pounding so hard that my chest ached. My knees nearly folded. I took another deep breath, trying to steady myself.

Then I lowered myself to take a closer look at the crawling claw.

“Oh, wow,” I murmured out loud. “Oh, wow.”

Not the claw.

It wasn't the claw. It was a small box turtle. Its square shell dark against the shimmering grass.

A box turtle. Crawling slowly over the backyard.

A laugh escaped my throat. I wanted to cheer. But that might wake up my parents.

A light was on in the kitchen window next door. Did the neighbors see me out here in my pajamas?

Would they think it was weird that I ran out late at night to stare at a box turtle?

Well, yes, it was weird. But my life had been weird lately.

No more. No more weirdness, I told myself.

I turned to the trash cans behind the garage. The lids were all tightly clamped shut. The claw was safe inside its can.

As I stared, the metal cans made a rattling sound.

I started to panic. But I caught myself. And laughed again.

They were rattling because of the wind.

It had to be the wind. Right?

Early the next morning, I dropped my backpack in my gym locker and started to get dressed for the football competition.

It was only tag football. But Coach Taylor made everyone wear full equipment — knee pads, shoulder pads, and a helmet.

I tried on three helmets, and they were all too big for me. I never knew I had such a tiny head! Finally, I just took one of the big ones. I figured it was no big deal if it slipped around a little.

Some of the guys were goofing on one another, making jokes and bumping one another into the lockers. But I stayed quiet in my corner of the locker room. I wanted to concentrate.

This was the most important game of my life.

Cory came in when I was almost in my uniform. He tossed his backpack against the wall and set his helmet down on the bench. He started to unlock his locker.

“How's it going, Lee?” he asked.

“Not bad,” I said. “Actually, I feel good. I feel good about this game.”

“Me, too,” he said.

He pulled off his T-shirt and stuffed it in the locker. Then he lifted the good-luck claw off his neck. He set it down on the bench beside the helmet.

“I'm going to the Stampede game at the arena Saturday,” Cory said. He struggled with the shoulder pads. Realized he had them on backward. Took them off and started again.

“I get to sit on the bench and hang out with the players,” he said.

“I'm going to the game, too,” I told him. “My dad got tickets in the second row.”

“Awesome,” Cory said. He tightened the shoulder-pad straps. “Maybe I could get a ride with you, Lee. My parents are going somewhere Saturday night, and they didn't want to drive me.”

“Sure,” I said. “I'll tell my dad to stop at your house.”

Yes, we were in a competition to the death. But Cory and I were still friends. It was a
friendly
competition.

Except … staring at his vulture claw on the bench, I suddenly didn't feel so friendly.

I mean, it wasn't fair. Really.

I mean, I was happy I got rid of my bad luck. But Cory still had his
good
-luck charm. Cory still had all the good luck.

That meant I was going to lose today. Lose the game and lose my last chance for the scholarship.

“Anything wrong?” Cory's question broke into my thoughts.

“No. No problem,” I said. I grabbed the big helmet and started to pull it over my hair. “This thing weighs a ton.”

Cory started to answer. But Coach Taylor stepped up to his locker. “Cory, would you do me a favor? I left my playbook in my office on the second floor. Would you run up and get it for me?”

“Sure,” Cory said. He pulled a jersey down over the shoulder pads. Then he took off toward the locker-room door.

I set my helmet back on the bench. I saw that I hadn't tightened the laces on my football cleats. I sat down and started to work on them.

My eyes stopped on the object on the floor. A claw. Cory's claw. He didn't put it back. It must have fallen off the bench.

My brain started to whir. Thoughts flashed through my mind like comets. All kinds of thoughts. Including
evil
thoughts.

The claw sat inches away from me. I gazed around. No one was looking. Most of the other guys had already run out to the football field.

I picked up Cory's claw. I rubbed my fingers over it.

Should I do it? Should I?

I couldn't resist.

Cory was my friend. But I really needed to outplay him today.

I raised the claw to my mouth and kissed it.

Then I turned it over and kissed the back.

Then I kissed both sides again. Then I planted kisses all over it.

All those kisses got it a little wet. I dried it off on the front of my football jersey. Then I placed it back on the floor exactly where it had fallen.

Did I feel bad about what I just did?

Not really. If the claw brought Cory a little bad luck this afternoon, it would just even things up. You know. Make it more fair.

I pulled the helmet over my head and started to the door. Cory burst in, and we almost collided.

“Good game,” he said.

“You, too,” I said.

We bumped knuckles. And I trotted out to the field.