"You not crazy," said Mack.
"Then you did it?" said Ceese, sounding calm but also just the tiniest bit incredulous.
Mack shrugged. "I was not in your kitchen yesterday or last night, Mrs. Tucker."
"Where were you?" asked Ceese.
Mack looked at him calmly. "You asking for my alibi, Officer?"
Ceese got a small smile. "I guess so, Mack Street."
"Got no alibi," said Mack. "I was walking around in the neighborhood and in the woods and I slept under a tree last night with a big black cat. I reckon that cat ain't much of an alibi."
"But you didn't eat Mom's chili," said Ceese.
"I was not in your kitchen yesterday."
"I just can't imagine," said Mrs. Tucker, "why somebody would eat my chili and then wash the dishes."
"I think," said Ceese, "we're not quite ready to start an urban legend about a sneak thief called
'Tidy Boy' who steals food from fridges while the cook is in the kitchen, and washes up without a soul noticing he's even there."
Magic always found a way to be cruel. Mack couldn't even have a chili supper without hurting somebody.
"Mrs. Tucker," said Mack, "I can't tell you what happened to your chili, but I can promise you this. You're not going crazy, you're not getting old, something really happened, but if you keep talking about it people going to think you crazy. So maybe you better let it go."
For the first time, Ceese got real alert. He didn't say anything, but now he was looking at Mack real steady, and the amusement was gone.
"Do you think so, Mack?" asked Mrs. Tucker. "I know it's silly, you're only a boy, what would you know?"
"I know that the chili was really in your fridge when you saw it. I know you didn't accidently eat it and wash up afterward and then forget you did."
"How do you know, Mack?" she said plaintively. "How can I know you really know?"
"Doubt me if you want, but I know everything happened just the way it seemed to you, and you didn't forget anything. That's the best I can do."
She looked at him searchingly, then reached out and clutched at his hands, there on the table.
"Mack, you're an angel to say that to me. I know Ceese doesn't believe me, though he's too kind ever to say so. I just needed somebody to believe me."
"I do, Mrs. Tucker."
"Well then," she said. "I'll just wash up my cup..."
She stood up.
"I'll do that, Mrs. Tucker," said Mack. "I like washing dishes."
"You do? That's very strange of you," she said, and then laughed. It sounded only a little hysterical. "But very nice."
Ceese left with her out the back door, but as Mack expected, he was back before Mack finished drying the cup and saucer and spoon and putting them away.
"All right, Mack, what was all that about?"
"Ceese, why should I tell you?" said Mack.
"Cause I think my mother is losing her mind and if you know some reason I shouldn't think that, you better tell me."
"That's not good enough," said Ceese. "Just your word like that?"
"I ever lie to you, Ceese?" asked Mack.
"Not telling me the whole story, that's the same as a lie."
"Not if I don't pretend that it's the whole story when it's not."
"So you're going to keep it a secret."
Mack laughed. "All right, Ceese, I'll tell you. I went into an invisible house four doors up from Coliseum on Cloverdale, between Chandresses' and Snipes', and in that house I got hungry and opened the fridge and there was your mama's chili in a glass dish. I nuked it for two minutes, ate it, did the warpath dance cause it was so spicy, then I washed the dish and spoon and put them in the dish drain in that house."
Ceese shook his head. "So you're not going to tell me."
"I suppose it's better you think I'm a liar than you think I'm wacked out," said Mack. "Except that if I'm a liar, you're going to think your mama losing it when she ain't. And you also won't trust my word, but I never lied to you, Ceese, and I didn't start now."
"An invisible house."
"It's only invisible from the street," said Mack. "You get closer, it gets bigger."
"Show me."
"I don't know if I can," said Mack. "Maybe I'm the only one can see it."
Ceese shook his head. "Mack Street, I'm going to hold you to this. You going to show me."
"I can try. I just... maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't. I see a lot of things I don't tell people about," said Mack. "They just think I'm crazy. Miz Smitcher, she showed me early on that I better not tell what I see. It just makes folks upset."
Ceese's face looked cold and distant. "Let's go now," he said.
Mack led him down to the place and all the time he was half afraid that it wouldn't be there anymore, that weird spot in the sidewalk where you could see Skinny House out of the corner of your eye. But it was there.
"You see that?" asked Mack.
"See what?" straight up Cloverdale and then step backward and forward.
"I don't even know what I'm supposed to see."
Mack shook his head. "It's there. But like I thought, you can't see it."
Ceese sighed. "Mack, I don't even know why you doing this. It's one thing to make my mama feel better, I don't blame you for that, but telling this stuff to me when it's just us two—"
Mack didn't hear him finish the sentence, because he figured the only proof he had was to have Ceese watch him disappear. That must be what happened when Mack went into Skinny House, so he'd do it when Ceese was watching.
So Mack lined himself up with the thin vertical line of Skinny House and then strode right toward it. As before, it grew wider until it was the full width of a house. He reached out far enough to touch the front door, then turned around.
There was Ceese on the sidewalk, looking around every which way, trying to see where Mack went.
Mack opened the front door and went inside.
There was nobody there. And not a stick of furniture. Nothing in the kitchen, either. No fridge, no dishes in the cupboard, nothing.
But there were five pairs of pants in the closet, hanging from hooks. And when he checked the pockets, five dollars in each of them. Mack took all the bills and put them in different pockets of his pants. Then he went back out the front door and jogged toward the sidewalk.
Ceese was a few paces away, and partly out in the street, still looking for him. Mack called to him, but Ceese couldn't hear him. Not till Mack actually set foot on the sidewalk. Then he whirled around.
"Where were you?" Ceese demanded.
"Watch me carefully," said Mack. "Your eyes right on me."
Ceese watched. Mack stepped off the sidewalk. Skinny House disappeared and Mack clearly did not.
"Shit," said Mack. "All right, look away, but keep me visible in the corner of your eye."
Ceese rolled his eyes, but did as Mack had ordered.
This time when Mack stepped off the sidewalk, Skinny House grew larger and Ceese whirled around to see what had happened to Mack. Mack walked right back to the sidewalk and reappeared right in front of Ceese's eyes.
"Of course I can't disappear," said Mack. "It's not my magic, it's the magic of Skinny House. It's not like I can disappear by stepping off the sidewalk anywhere else in Baldwin Hills."
"You been magic the whole time I looked after you?"
"I'm not magic!" said Mack, and now he was getting a little angry. "Or can't you hear me?"
"I hear you, I just don't—I never saw anything like that before."
"You seen it all the time," said Mack. "In movies and on TV"
"Yeah, but they fake it."
"But do you know how they fake it?"
"Not exactly, but it has something to do with... hell, I don't know."
"You don't know how to do it, it's magic to you." Mack held out his hand.