Jimmy puts his hands up as if to block that idea. “Rocky’s okay. It’s Dad.”
“Dad got hurt?”
“Dad’s on probation.” He looks at me. “Your dad too. They got written up for being drunk on guard tower duty.”
“What? That’s crazy,” I say. I’m not even worried about this. That’s how nutty it is.
Theresa’s mouth drops open, but no sound comes out. Her chin juts forward with the force of this news. “Daddy’s never been drunk in his whole life,” she declares.
Jimmy shrugs. “Somebody lied, that’s all. Somebody’s out to get them.”
“But why? Why would anyone be out to get Daddy?” Theresa asks as I head out the door and up the stairs as fast as I can.
“Mom.” I slam into our apartment. My mom is washing the windows, wearing a pair of my dad’s old pants that are too short for her.
She takes one look at me. “You heard.”
“Dad wouldn’t drink when he’s working.”
“Of course not.”
“Somebody just made this up to get him in trouble?”
“Looks that way. But your dad told me I should simmer down about it. He thinks it was a mistake and it will all get straightened out in due time. I’ll tell you one thing. The warden would be a fool to lose your daddy.”
“Was it Trixle?”
My mom shakes her head, her lips a cold line. “Darby likes to stir the pot, but I don’t think he’d out and out lie.”
“Yeah, me either,” I agree.
“One thing’s for sure. We have to be extra careful until this whole mess works itself out. If you’re on probation and you have any trouble, any at all… you’re gone. No second chances.”
“And with Natalie coming home on Friday…”
“That’s right, and that big shindig this weekend too.”
“I’ll be careful,” I assure her.
She takes my chin in her hand. “I know you will be. Six months we lived here with Natalie, we never once had a problem with the warden or Darby either. I suppose I got you to thank for that, Moose.” She smiles at me.
I twist my chin gently away from her. My mom doesn’t know everything about that time… she doesn’t know about Nat’s friendship with 105, for one thing.
“You know, Moose, Mrs. Mattaman and I were talking…” She pushes the scarf she wears when she cleans away from her eyes. “How are things going with you and the warden’s daughter?”
My mom doesn’t refer to Piper by name anymore. I’m not sure why.
“You two have a little spat?” my mother asks.
“You could call it that.”
My mom folds her cleaning cloth carefully in half and in half again. “You have a little spat, then this thing happens… what a coincidence.”
“Piper wouldn’t do this.”
“I hope you’re right.” My mother pronounces right with a hiccup in the middle-ri-ight-as if she’s not convinced.
“She have any reason to be mad at Jimmy or Theresa?” she asks.
“She’s mad at Theresa. But Mom, Piper’s always mad at someone. That’s just the way she is.”
“Things are tough at her house right now with a new baby on the way and her momma feeling poorly. You mind your p’s and q’s around that girl, you hear me? She’s pretty as they come, I’ll give you that, but she’s more trouble than stirring up a hornet’s nest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say.
“Will you help me empty the pan?” She opens the icebox and takes out the pan filled with melted ice water. Together we walk to the sink, trying to keep the water from splashing.
When we’ve dumped the water, she takes her rag and gives the pan a good scrub. “Everybody’s always telling me how lucky I am to have you. Did you really get Bea Trixle a rose?”
“I guess.”
“Did you now?” She directs a smile at her work. “Don’t imagine Darby appreciated that any too much.”
“I had an extra.”
“A twelve-year-old boy with an extra rose?”
“It’s hard to explain, Mom.”
“I’ll bet it is.” She works her cloth into the corner. “Annie’s mom says you’re interested in needlepoint too?” She looks at me sideways. I roll my eyes.
She smiles her sly smile. “Apparently I’m not giving you the right kind of chores. I wish I’d known. I got some mending needs doing. You interested?”
“Cut it out, Mom,” I tell her.
She laughs. “I got a son can do no wrong. Guess I can’t complain about that, now can I?”
20. WELKUM HOM NADALEE
Friday, September 6, 1935
Nat and my parents are supposed to be on the 4:00 ferry. Theresa, Jimmy, and I are all down waiting for her. Theresa has made a sign. Welkum hom Nadalee, it says in pencil with glued-on buttons. My mom got a store-bought lemon cake and I borrowed some of Jimmy’s fly harness thread and made Natalie a bracelet.
“Scout be over this weekend?” Jimmy asks as we watch a large fishing boat scoot across the calm water, making a perfect wake, two white lines in the blue.
“Nope.”
“You going to Scout’s?” Jimmy freezes, waiting for my answer.
“Nope,” I say.
Jimmy’s head dips down. I don’t see him smile, but his dimple is showing. “You should see how many flies I have now. Maybe fifty thousand.”
“Fifty thousand flies? No kidding?” I ask, scratching my leg, which is driving me crazy. I hope the hives aren’t coming back.
Jimmy nods. “They move around so much it’s hard to count. Think Natalie could do it.”
“If anyone can count fifty thousand flies, it’s Natalie.”
Jim’s brown eyes are full of excitement. “That’s what I figured.”
“You find out any more about who got our dads on probation?” I ask.
“My mom thinks it’s Piper,” Jimmy says.
“Everybody thinks it’s Piper,” Theresa chimes in.
“Piper wouldn’t do anything that bad.”
Theresa and Jimmy look at each other.
“You got to go talk to her,” Jimmy says.
“Why me? You’re the one who told her about the secret crawlspace.”
Jimmy scoffs. “From what I heard, you didn’t seem to mind too much.”
I look at Theresa. “You weren’t going to tell anyone, remember?”
“Jimmy isn’t anyone,” Theresa informs me.
Jimmy snorts. “Thanks, Theresa,” he says.
“Oh look, Natalie’s coming!” Theresa points at the ferry, which is headed toward us, a flock of birds flying above it.
The boat is streaming across the water. The sun is shining through the clouds, making the wake sparkle. My dad is handsome in his officer’s uniform. My mom is wearing her good green coat. Nat is sitting with her head down like she’s reading. From a distance they look normal.
“Your dad talk to the warden?” Jimmy asks as Mr. Mattaman, who is acting buck sergeant, jumps on the dock. He still has the same duties when he’s on probation; they just check on him all the time, like he’s a junior officer again.
“I dunno, but he’s not worried. He thinks it was only a mistake.”
Jimmy shakes his head. “You’re just like your dad, you know that?” he snips.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask as my father carries Natalie’s suitcase with Natalie Flanagan written on all sides. He’s kidding around with her, pretending to drop her suitcase in the bay. My mother doesn’t like this. I can tell by the way her hands are on her hips that she’s bawling him out.
Natalie says something to my dad that makes him laugh all the more. He hands her back her suitcase.
“Hey kids.” Mr. Mattaman comes up behind us.
Trixle is up in the guard tower. Natalie and my dad come across the gangplank. Natalie is not looking down at her feet like she usually does. She’s focused out to the left, her shoulders slumped as she toe-walks across the gangplank. Nat has just crossed through the metal detector when it buzzes loud as an air raid siren.
My mother’s back gets stiff as a wheel rod. Her face looks feverish. She stares at Natalie.