The Zippy Fix (10 page)

W
illy and I headed over to where the stream spilled its rusty water into the clean turquoise bay.

I shook my head, studying the crisp five-dollar bill Uncle Scoop had given me. “Can you believe he paid us this much?”

“We’re rich!”

Willy and I slipped down a sandy hill into the shallow water. Dusty river silt puffed out around our feet as we dragged them along the bottom.

Willy pulled his five-dollar bill out of his pocket. “Here. Add this to what you have.”

“No, Willy, that’s yours.”

“Take it. You can pay me back later.”

Ho, I thought. This new kid was going to be one of my best friends ever, like Julio, Rubin, and Maya. “Thanks, Willy. Thanks a lot. But it’s just a loan, okay?”

Willy nodded toward shore. “Let’s go home and add it all up.”

We headed back to our street, and to our fort in the jungle across from my house. It was a sand pit covered by jungle trash, and nobody but me, Willy, Julio, and Maya knew it was there. We slid down into it and lit up the candle.

I took all my coins and crumpled bills out and set them on the cardboard box we used as a table.

“Fourteen dollars and sixty-six cents.”

“Ho, man, did we get rich today! Not too much more to make eighteen dollars.”

“Yup.”

We headed back to my house.

Willy had never seen my room before. He’d been in our kitchen, our yard, and out on the river in my red skiff. But my room was brand-new to him.

“Cool,” he said. “I like it.”

It wasn’t much, but one wall was made of lava rocks, which you don’t always see. It was full of cracks and crevices where centipedes hid when it rained. The other three walls were wood. But that wall was bug city.

“It used to be part of the garage.”

“I
like it.”

“I got every kind of bug you can think of in here.” I closed the door and locked it. “Plus it’s private.”

“How come you locked the door?”

“Girls.”

“What girls?”

“Okay, one girl.”

Willy scrunched his eyes. Huh?

“Trust me,” I said.

He shrugged and picked up the glossy black-and-white photo of Little Johnny Coconut, my dad. Just like Stella’s picture of her mom, it was autographed:
Love ya, big guy, Dad xo
.

“You look like him … sort of.”

“He lives in Las Vegas.”

“Why?”

“He and my mom split up. He’s an entertainer.”

“My mom said he’s a big star.”

“I guess.”

Willy put the picture back. “So, how much more money do you need?”

I found a dull pencil and scratched out the numbers. “Three dollars and thirty-four cents.”

“Well, we still have tomorrow.”

I nodded. “Yeah … but I’m out of ideas.”

We both flinched when someone pounded on the door.

Bam! Bam! Bam!
“Open up!” The doorknob rattled. “I know you’re in there!”
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

20

“N
ow you see why I lock it?”

Willy stepped away from the door.

Bam! Bam!
“Open up, or I might have to give you some Texas Nice!”

“What’s Texas Nice?” Willy whispered.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Open this door!”

I sighed. “All right, all right, cool your jets.”

“Who is it?” Willy whispered.

“Stella.”

“Is she mad about something? What does she want?”

“To spout off. Watch.”

I unlocked the door and opened it.

Stella was leaning into the door frame. She smirked, as if saying, You can’t hide from me, you little ant.

“What?” I said.

“Your mom just called. She has to work an extra hour. Which means I have to make you dinner and feed your disappointing body. You have to go find Darci and bring her home … now. Any questions?”

“No.”

Stella looked over my shoulder at Willy. “You again. Who are you, anyway?”

Willy stood frozen. “Uh …”

“He’s Willy Wolf,” I said. “He’s from California.”

Stella’s eyebrows went up. “Well, at least
he’s from someplace you wear shoes.”

Willy gulped.

Stella squinted at him a moment, then turned back to me. “So what are you waiting for, honey, go find your sister.”

She winked and smooched out her lips.

I closed the door and locked it.
“That
is why I lock my door.”

Willy’s mouth worked like a fish, as if the words inside were afraid to come out until they were safely out of Stella’s range.

I laughed. “Don’t worry. I got her wrapped around my little finger.”

Willy ran a hand over his face. “She’s scary.”

“Sssstf”
someone hissed.

We turned and looked behind us. Julio was leaning into the window screen, his hands cupped around his eyes. “Who’s in there?”

“Heyyy,” I said. “You’re back.”

“Yeah. Come out.”

I inched open the door and peeked into the garage. When I was sure Stella wasn’t there, we slipped out to join Julio.

Out on the road we came across two dead toads, flattened by cars and dried by the sun. I picked one up and flung it like a Frisbee. It sailed out and clattered back onto the road twenty feet ahead of us. “So, Julio, how’s your day been?”

“Boring.”

“Too bad. Me and Willy had a good one.

Hey, you seen Darci anywhere?

I have to find her.”

“Reena’s house. In the yard.”

I wasn’t in any hurry. The longer I took to bring Darci home, the less I had to listen to Stella.

“So what was so good about today?” Julio asked.

I patted my back pocket, where one day I would have a wallet filled with money. “We got rich.”

“What?”

“Rich, like money. I have to buy Stella a birthday present.”

When we reached the dried toad, Julio kicked it, and it clacked farther up the street. “How rich?”

“Fourteen dollars and sixty-six cents rich.”

Julio whistled.

I stopped and grabbed his arm. “Hey, you got any pop cans at your house?”

“Maybe.”

“Let’s go look.”

Four. They were in a grocery bag in Julio’s garage. Rinsed. Clean. No roaches, no ants.

“Twenty cents’ worth,” Julio said. “You can have them.”

We headed back to Kalapawai Market to cash them in. Just before we got there I stopped. “Julio, go inside and see if Tito’s there. If he’s not, wave us in. If he is, tell him to have a nice day and run.”

“What?”

I shoved him toward the store. “Be brave.”

21

“T
he next day, Sunday, I got up around noon. Luckily, Tito hadn’t been at Kalapawai, and my pile of cash had grown twenty cents higher.

I yawned and stretched. Making money sure took a lot out of you. I went into the house.

Mom was in the kitchen peeling a tangerine
for Darci. “Well,” she said. “I was just about to go out and see if you were still on this planet.”

I scratched my head and grabbed the orange juice from the fridge.

“Use a glass.”

I found one on the counter.

“That one’s dirty.”

I looked into it. A curve of dried milk edged the bottom. Clean enough. I poured juice into it and gulped it down.

“When was the last time you took a shower, Cal?”

I sniffed my T-shirt.

“Not your shirt. You.”

I shrugged. “Where’s Darci?”

“Watching cartoons.”

“Where’s Stella?”

“She went to her friend Tina’s house. What is this, the Inquisition?”

“What’s the Inquisition?”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, but Mom … do you have any jobs I can do to make money?”

Mom studied me. It wasn’t a question I made a habit of asking. “Well, you can clean your room for a start. I shouldn’t have to pay you for that, but if you do a good job I’ll consider it.”

Ick.

“What else?”

“Mow the lawn. Pull weeds. Clean the garage. Wash out the garbage can. Fold laundry … no, not that. I’ll just have to do it again.”

I considered my options. I sure didn’t want to mow the lawn, and cleaning my room was out of the question. The garbage can was so disgusting I’d probably pass out just by taking the lid off, and the garage would take all day.