Bluefish (17 page)

Ms. Gordon closed the door, and Travis faced front, happy little birds fluttering around inside his chest. She said yes! This was going to be good.

"Okay, so you know Friday is the dance, right?" Bradley set his lunch down.

"Quit with the dance," said Travis.

"No, I know, I know. Not the dance. You're both invited to my house on Sunday for the anti- dance."

"Two invitations for Velveeta in one day," said Velveeta. "What's an anti-dance?"

"It's a party where nobody dances. I wanted it to be on Friday night, but my parents are busy. My dad said you can come Sunday afternoon for a while."

"Sunday afternoon - that's pretty anti- dance." Velveeta nodded. "Are your gamey pals coming?"

"No, they're going to the dance, so they can't anti-dance. It's just you and you and me. Travis, say yes and make her say yes."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"Will there be food?" asked Velveeta.

"My mom said she'd make that spinach-pine nuts thing for a late lunch."

"Tempting. I'll think about it."

"Okay, this time that means yes, right? Oh, and Travis, she's going to make that cherry crisp thing that you liked last time you were over.

Please? Say yes?"

"Don't beg, Bradley," said Velveeta. "Or we'll sic Chilson on you."

"I'm in," said Travis.

Bradley grinned so big, Travis thought the rubber bands on his braces might snap.

"I knew you would be. Come on, Velveeta, say yes."

"Okay, Bradley, yes. I will come to the anti- dance. If nothing else, just because you should be rewarded for thinking that party title up."

"Yay." Bradley gave a little hop in his seat and opened his lunch bag. "Two o'clock Sunday. My house."

When the bell rang, Travis walked with Velveeta to her locker.

"He's so Bradley-esque," she said. "You can't help liking that."

"He doesn't really care if we make fun of him, does he?" said Travis.

"No. I think he's adopted us, and the anti- dance is the official ceremony."

on WEDNESDAY

When I got to the library today, Connie yanked me into the back room and held up a key. She said I needed a place to study and I could use the library when it's closed, but only under three conditions. Then she started jabbing the key in the air, a jab for each rule.

Jab number one: I can't tell anyone I have it, and if she ever hears about it from anyone else, she'll take it away from me. She said Pauline already knows, and Pauline's the only other one who has a key. So if anyone else ever knows, it's because I told them and key gone.

Jab number two: I have to lock the door when I'm in here. Always. If she ever comes and I'm here and the door isn't locked, key gone.

Jab number three: I can't ever bring anyone here with me. Because of course, that would also be breaking rule number one. Anyone here with me, key gone.

I told her it's not like I'm going to have crack parties in here. Maybe I'd just want Travis to come and study sometimes, and she said no, we can do that during open hours.

No Travis, period, the end. Could I live with those rules, and did I want the key?

I asked her why she was so nice to me.

She said because Calvin was so nice to her.

I told her she is twisted.

And yes, I understood her rules, and yes, I want the key.

CHAPTER TWENTY?? SEVEN

Travis turned the radio on and the volume up as he and Grandpa drove down the hill to pick up Velveeta.

"If you don't want me to say anything, just say so."

Grandpa talked loud over the music.

"I'm saying so."

"Okay, I'll shut up."

Velveeta was waiting on the sidewalk in front of the library.

"There, pull over," said Travis.

"That's the girl? Velveeta is your her?"

Velveeta opened the truck door with a huge grin, and Grandpa turned the music down.

"Mr. Ed is not your grandpa. Tell me he's not. Mr. Ed, are you his grandpa?"

"Travis, you dog," said Grandpa. "Why didn't you tell me this was the girl you were talking about?"

Travis slid over so she could get in.

"Travis was talking about me?" Velveeta clicked the seat belt between her and Travis. "What did he say?"

"Not very much at all. Gotta drag words out of him witha backhoe and a crowbar."

"I know, right?" Velveeta laughed. "He only gives out ten a day. Fifteen on Fridays."

That was good for a big ol' hee- haw from Grandpa, but then he leaned over and turned the radio back up.

"Where are we going?" asked Velveeta.

Grandpa actually did not say anything. He stayed shut up.

"We're not talking now, are we?" Velveeta whispered in Travis's ear.

Travis shook his head, and Velveeta elbowed him in the side. They rode with nothing but music until Grandpa pulled over to the side of the road by the old place.

"You're dropping us in a ditch?" asked Velveeta.

"See you at three thirty, kids! Remember, Travis: only rock 'n' roll."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Velveeta as he drove off .

"Nothing. He's crazy. How do you know him, anyway?"

"I see him every Saturday at the bakery. He appreciates the Velveetic humor.

Where are we going?"

"You'll see. Follow me."

The driveway was familiar but also completely different. A blue Prius instead of the truck. No Rosco row- wowing up to greet them. Travis kept his eyes turned away from the sunny spot on the gravel.

Just past the drive, trees closed in around them.

Travis put his feet on his favorite dirt path, and the smells and sounds wrapped around him. Treetops murmured a soft and comforting conversation overhead. A red- winged blackbird tweedled the local gossip. Travis's skin stretched wide open, pulling it all in. He pointed at a pileated woodpecker that swept across the path in front of them. They both stopped and watched until it flew out of sight. The sun sprayed through the colors in the trees, and leaves drifted down in front of them.

"Oh, Travis," said Velveeta. "This is pretty."

"Remember you asked about a place? I'm taking you to it."

The path narrowed, and they couldn't walk side by side.

"So, you used to live by here?" Velveeta spoke softly behind him.

"Yup, in that house we just walked past. I came out here every day after school."

He turned at the fork, and the path widened as they climbed the ridge near the swamp. The swamp water was as still and black as ever. Rusty pine needles layered the ground, along with shifting patterns of red and yellow leaves. Travis leaned against a birch trunk, and Velveeta sat next to him.

"Look at those yellow leaves on the water," she said.

"They look like little boats. Why would you ever move away from here?"

"Kind of a long story."

"Oh. I know about those."

The sun shone on the stand of maples, firing up the opposite side of the swamp with red and orange like Velveeta's scarf that she didn't have anymore.

"So, will you tell me anything about anything?" asked Travis. "Like, what happened to your other scarves?"

"What's that noise?" asked Velveeta.

A high, throaty warble drifted across the treetops, growing louder.

"Sandhill cranes." Seven of them came into sight, big birds with necks stretched out straight and legs trailing behind. "Flying south."

The birds passed overhead in a V, hooting the whole way.

"Very Jurassic Park," said Velveeta as the sound faded.

"I should have brought my lawyer friend. Maybe a T. rex would eat her."

"What lawyer friend?"

Silence settled around them, no sound but the breeze rattling the leaves. Travis sat perfectly still like he used to do when waiting for a fox pup to stick its nose out of the den.

Velveeta lay back, looking up at the sky.

"This old guy Calvin lived next door to me," she said.

"In a trailer. He was my best friend. I know that sounds like it might be skinky, but it's not. He gave me all those scarves. There were twenty- three of them.

They used tobe his wife's before she died. And then he went and died."

"When?"

" Forty- nine days ago."

Travis pulled Rosco's rabies tag out of his pocket. He rubbed it between his fingers.

"His daughter came back last week and kicked me out of the trailer and took the scarves. She's the lawyer I want to sic a dinosaur on."

"Why did she take them?"

"Because she is a manifestation of the forces of evil."

A woodpecker rattled, and Travis searched the treetops, trying to track the sound. It stopped, then started again, farther away.

"Can we get them back? I mean, maybe we could figure out a way."

"Nope," said Velveeta. "She lives in San Diego. The scarves are gone. Except this one because I was wearing it."

She stared up at the sky, rubbing the scarf between her fingers. Travis took the rabies tag off the key ring and handed it to her.

"Rabies vaccination?" She sat up to study it.

"I know it's not the same, but our dog Rosco died on August ninth. I mean, he's not a person or anything, but he was . . ."

What was Rosco? Mother father and a couple of brothers? Best friend? All that and more.

"August ninth this year? A Saturday?" Travis nodded.

"That's exactly one week before Calvin died." She handed the tag back. "Calvin liked dogs. Maybe they're hanging out together."

"You think?"

A couple of birch leaves floated down into their own reflections in the black swamp water, more bright yellow boats in the harbor. Travis pulled Haunt Fox out of his backpack and opened to chapter two.

"See this?" He pointed at the line drawing of the hound. "That's what Rosco looked like."

"Oh . . ." Velveeta ran her fingertips across the picture.

"He had the softest ears ever. He was about the same color as your hair. Maybe a little more red."

Velveeta stroked the Haunt Fox dog's ears.

"Let's do some words," she said. "Or I'm going to get too sad."

"You sure? We don't have to do that."

"Yes, we do. Do you have a list?"

"I want to work on something else. Can you find the part where it talks about the puppy? It's in the second chapter."

Velveeta scanned through the pages.

" 'He was a big, sad- eyed hound'?"

"Yeah, that. I want to learn all the words in that paragraph."

"It's a long paragraph. Look, it goes all the way to the next page."

Travis took the book from her and counted. Twenty-four circled words.

"Can you drill me through them all?"

He took out his notebook and pencil and handed them to her.

"You sure? You won't get mad?"

"As long as you don't tell me to just try."

Velveeta wrote down the words. She fed them to Travis, one at a time. Once they'd gone over the list a few times, he asked her to read the paragraph out loud.

He lay back on the ground as she turned the print on the page into a living dog, same as McQueen had done in his office. Travis had never known puppy-Rosco, and he never would. This was the next best thing.

When Velveeta finished the paragraph, he sat up.

"Show me where it starts?" he said. "And read just that first sentence?"

She pointed at the words as she read. The string of print jumbled and shifted in front of him.

"Wait here," he said. "I'm going to go over there and try it by myself first."

"Is this the part where you run back to the truck and leave me alone in the woods?"

"No. I'm just going over there, by that tree. You can see me from here."

He sat with his back to her and looked at the words in the sentence one at a time, chewing through them slowly.

He stuck with that first sentence, again and again, word by word.

"Travis," called Velveeta, "you okay over there?"

He nodded and drilled through the sentence again.

Then he went back over and held the book up between them.

"Okay, you do it first. Just that sentence."

She read it. He followed with his eyes, imagining the yellow highlight from the Kurzweil moving across each word.

"Now you?"

Travis looked out at the swamp, taking in the hush of it, the breeze on his face, the crunchy smell and the soft carpet.

"See that stand of pines over there?" he said. "All the diff erent greens? Just like your scarf."

"Here." Velveeta unwound the scarf. She put it around Travis's neck, and it settled soft and slidey on his skin.

"It'll give you superpowers. Now read."

Travis gulped a big breath and plowed into the sentence. He kept tripping. He couldn't get through it.

"Wait, let's do the words again," said Velveeta.

They drilled words again, one at a time. Travis broke a sweat.

"Why do you want to do this?" he asked, taking a breather.

Velveeta lay back with her hands behind her head.

"Because it seems like I'm doing something real," she said. "That first time in the library, watching those words stick to your brain? That was so fun."

Travis lay next to her. The maple leaves blazed against the blue.

"Calvin would have liked you."

"Why?"

"He liked what I liked. We liked all the same movies.

Anything he said was good, it was good. Even the black-and- white ones."

"What did he die of?"

"Heart attack. In his sleep. One day, boom, gone. No more Calvin."

Big puffer clouds moved slowly across the expanse of blue sky. The sun shone on Travis's face, warm but not hot.

"If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't know how to read, either. He always made me do my homework."

Travis felt like he could lie there all day listening to her talk, but Velveeta grabbed the shoulder of his shirt and pulled him up.

"Come on, try the sentence again."

"You said try," he said. "You're not supposed to say try."

"Sorry. I forgot. Don't try."

Travis sat up, took a breath, and shook himself loose.

Then he took the book from her and read the sentence all the way through. Not one stumble.

"Travis, that was so great!" yelled Velveeta. She held up her fist. "Pound it!"