Heart Strings (5 page)

*****

“You can't go yet, Trippo,” a cherub-faced girl in the cardiac ward objected. “Make me another balloon animal.”

“Could you paint triangles on my face like yours?”

“I want to honk your nose again,” a dark-skinned boy with his two front teeth missing coaxed.

The kids at the hospital loved honking Tripp's big blue nose. “Honk away,” he told Niger. Then taking a blue grease crayon out of his pocket, he drew triangles on Marianne's cheeks. After that, he made a pink balloon poodle for Jolanda. And he told a couple of knock-knock jokes for everyone there. A fantastic audience, they all laughed.

“Now, time to pack up my bag of tricks.” Stuffing imaginary things into an imaginary bag, he huffed and puffed as if it was tremendously heavy, and the kids hooted. “See you tomorrow.” He waved a white-gloved-hand.

“Stay longer,” Marcus coaxed.

“I've already stayed long,” Tripp said, pretending to pull off Marcus’ nose. “Hey, yours isn't blue! How come?”

Marcus chuckled, a happy kid even though he'd spent the last six months in the hospital waiting for a transplant. He was at the top of the list for a heart, but first, someone about his size and weight had to die. Seven-years-old, fifty pounds. It was sad thinking someone else had to lose their life to give these kids a second chance, and sad that it took Mark's death to restore Tripp's health. Marcus was in worse shape than he'd been, but seven-year-olds didn't get themselves killed as often as sixteen-year-old drag-racers did.

Tripp gave him back his nose and used his grease crayon to color it blue. He totally cracked up.

A twelve-year-old girl who'd arrived a week ago was sitting quietly in a wheelchair. She hadn't adjusted to hospital life yet, or else she felt a little too grown-up to take part in the clowning. “Yo, Rosa. Want to help me get my stuff to the elevator?”

“Sure,” she said, and Tripp, bowing deeply, handed her his imaginary bag. “Hey,” she joked, “this is heavy.” Pretending it was hard to turn the wheels to move her chair, she panted a little.

Chuckling, he waved and shouted good-bye to his young fans. “See you all tomorrow.”

“It's nice of you to come here,” Rosa said when they reached the elevator. “It makes all the kids feel better.” The way she said it made him sure she didn't think of herself as a kid. A heart problem made you grow up faster, he knew that.

“And what would make you feel better, Miss Teenager?”

“I'm not a teen yet, but I will be in a month,” Rosa said, smiling. “Thanks for noticing.”

“Rough being thrown in here with the little ones?”

“Not exactly. I enjoy them; they're nice. But sometimes I wish I had someone my age to talk to. It's hard to grow up here.”

Tripp hoped she wouldn't have to but hoped she would have the chance to grow up. “Are you in for a new ticker?” When she nodded, he smiled. “I was in your same shoes last year, and look at me now.” He stuck out a size fifteen red vinyl shoe and lifted his striped vest to show a matching heart.

“You got one,” she said, smiling.

“Yes, and you will too.” He kissed his big gloved finger, then planted the kiss on her forehead.

“You think so?” Grabbing his hand, she held it tightly, like a little girl, fear evident in her big brown eyes.

“I know so. Just hang in there.”

“Thanks, Trippo.” She smiled like he'd guaranteed her another chance, and kissed his gloved hand.

“Hey, girl, watch the lipstick,” he teased, jumping back.

“You're the one wearing lipstick,” she retorted.

He jumped back another step. “You mean it? I have lipstick on? I could have sworn I wore my gloss today.”

She laughed aloud, the first time he'd heard her do so, then handed him his imaginary clown bag off her lap, pretending it was heavy. “Catch you later,” she said, wheeling away.

Glancing upward, he prayed silently.
Please. Let Rosa get a heart in time.

Turning, she called back over her shoulder, “Next time you come, see if you can pack someone in your bag who can talk 'girl talk' with me.”

He was the youngest HAH member, and none of the female volunteers were under forty. “If I can't find one, I'll wear my curly wig,” he called.

She shook her head and kept moving. “You can do better than that, Trippo.”

Could he? Driving home, he had his doubts, until driving by J's, it hit him that romantic Keely would be very good at “girl talk.”

*****

CHAPTER 5

How would it feel to have Tripp's arms around her? If they danced together, her head would probably just reach his shoulder. She'd promised to dance with him, so it wasn't
if
they danced, but
when
. When and where?

Today was the last day of school and the room was so hot you could fry bologna on the hardwood floor. With five minutes until last period ended, Mr. Cranbrook was actually lecturing. The man was unreal.

Maybe she should have asked Tripp to join them at J's today. It wasn't the weekend so they couldn't dance, but he might have liked meeting some of the kids. But what if someone gave it away that she dated Mark? She'd decided it would be silly to tell him days after they met. But if someone else told him, he'd think she was dishonest. She should have brought it up that first day, when he was looking for the Jefferson house.

“Miss Johannsen?” Mr. Cranbrook loomed over her. Sweat stained the pits of his shirt. At least, he'd had sense enough to take off his moth-ball-smelling jacket. “What's your opinion?”

“Uh … I'm afraid I wasn't listening.” Might as well admit it. In five minutes she was out of there for the year. She really should have asked Tripp.

“Miss Johannsen,” Cranbrook bellowed, just as Megan kicked Keely's chair, “if you can't remain in this world for even a minute during class, you'll have to stay after school.”

The bell rang and the class burst out of the room, cheering and hollering. Last period, last day. He couldn't mean stay. She stood up.

“Sit down,” Cranbrook growled.

She looked around for Megan, who shrugged and mouthed the words, “See you at J's.” In seconds, everyone else was gone. The noise of feet and voices faded in the distance, out the doors. A few lockers clanged. Silence.

Cranbrook wagged a finger in her face. “You have to snap out of it, young lady.”

She opened her mouth to ask what, but he shook his head. “You listen to me. You were a bright, alert girl before Mark's unfortunate accident.”

Keely swallowed hard. She didn't want to hear this.

“I know it was hard for you, and we're all sorry. Even those of us whom Mark conned and connived against.” Cranbrook managed a tight little smile. “But daydreaming won't bring him back, Keely.” She looked up sharply. Old Cranbrook had never used her first name before. His expression softened. “Do yourself a favor and join the living.”

*****

Bummed, Keely cried in one of the bathroom stalls, then splashed cold water on her face and left Branburg High. She didn't feel like going to J's now. The weird thing was, she hadn't been thinking about Mark when Cranbrook caught her. She'd been thinking about Tripp, which meant she was even more messed up than her history teacher thought.

“Hey, Red.” Will Laughlin stepped out from beneath a shade tree on the corner of the school lawn. “How about a Monster Dog? I've got the cash.”

“I don't think so, Will. I'm not in the mood.”

“It'll make you feel better,” he said, tapping her on the head. “Unless you'd rather go to J's. The rest of your crowd is probably there.”

Her crowd. Megan, Devon, his buddy Lyle and his girl Susie, and probably her friend Linda and boyfriend David. Keely didn't care that much about any of them except Megan. She'd never been a “crowd” person, but she had looked forward to celebrating liberation from school and Cranbrook. Now, all she had to look forward to was an empty house. Mom had arranged for Joey to go home with a friend so she could go to J's. “Okay. I’ll take that Monster Dog.”

When they reached Mosley’s, most of the booths were filled, but a couple was just leaving the front one. Keely slid in facing the window, so she wouldn't have to face the people. Some kids from her history class might be there. Will sat next to her.

A love song was playing on the jukebox. Thinking about dancing with Tripp to J's jukebox got her in trouble just half an hour ago. Shaking her head, she tuned into the present and saw Will had a French fry stuck behind each ear. “You're an overgrown kid, Will.”

“I had rheumatic fever real bad when I was little and my folks say they babied me, so now I refuse to grow up. Peter Pan, that's who I am.”

She could see that parents might baby a sick child, but he was milking the results and Keely thought he should see a counselor. Her Monster Dog was out-of-this-world, and when it was gone, she was out of there.

“No more pencils, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks,” Will was chanting when she looked up to see Megan— and Tripp.

Keely choked and had to pull a string of kraut out of her throat. While Will introduced himself to Tripp, Megan slid into the booth across from her. “Cute,” she said, wiping mustard off Megan's chin.

“How did you two get together?” Keely asked as Tripp sat down beside Megan. She hoped she didn't sound jealous, but she was.

“I was cruising by J's,” he said.

“And I was just leaving, coming to look for you, and he brought me,” Megan added. “This was the only other place I could think you might be.”

A waitress came to take their orders. “What's that you're eating?” Tripp asked Keely, frowning.

“A Mosley Monster Dog. They're delicious.”

“I think I'll pass,” he said, scanning the menu.

“Takes a man to eat one,” Will said, wrapping his lips around his, then taking them away to add, “or a girl like Red.” He tapped her on the head.

“My hair isn't red. And you're hardly a man.”

Tripp quietly ordered a cola and fries.

“Why did Cranbrook bother to keep you?” Megan demanded, leaning forward eagerly.” Why would a teacher keep anyone after class on the last day of school? Do you think he's a little touched?” She tapped her head.

“I hear you're into reading mysteries,” Tripp said, grinning at Megan.

She laughed. “I'm especially fond of Sue Grafton's books.”

“I like Stephen King.”

“He's more horror, I think,” Megan said.

Tripp shook his head, and while they batted authors and titles back and forth, Keely finished her Monster Dog. A rap song came on the jukebox and Will, who knew the lyrics, joined in while tapping on the table to the beat. The waitress brought Megan's and Tripp's orders, and Will helped himself to one of Tripp's fries.

“Touch mine and you're a dead man,” Megan warned Will, then smiled at Tripp. “I'm a mystery buff, but not as bad as Keely's bitten by the love bug.”

“There you go again,” Keely complained. “Just because I like romance—”

“I like romance,” Will put in.

She rolled her eyes. “Like you ever read one.”

“Who said anything about reading?” Will asked, winking, as he began building a fort with Tripp's fries. “You gotta do this for maximum taste, Tip.”

“Tripp,” Keely corrected him.

“Whatever.” Will splashed some catsup on the fries. “Now all you need is a little blood.”

“Hey! I like dipping my fries,” Tripp said.

“Sorry, man,” Will said. “But when there's a battle, blood splatters. You know?”

“There hasn't been a battle.” Keely could hear the unspoken word as Tripp shoved his plate away, and looked directly at her. “Anyone want a ride home?”

She couldn't wait to get out of there, with him. Smiling, she opened her mouth to accept and Megan jumped up. “You can drop me off,” she said.

Megan and Tripp leaving? Together? And her stuck with Will, the eternal child? “You can't,” she protested.

“I know, I should walk,” Megan said, running her hand over her rounded rear. “I haven't forgotten saying I'd start an exercise program when school was out.”

That worked for Keely. “I seem to remember hearing the words 'five pounds off these buns by the Fourth of July, or die'. Or was it diet?” she asked, cocking her head for a better look.

Megan stuck out her tongue. “I hope you also remember I said you had to join me in running, and you consented.”

“I did not, I hate sweating.”

Will slid his arm across her shoulders. “I could go along and wipe your brow.”

“Better yet, you can take my place because I'm not running with anyone.” Nudging him to let her out of the booth, Keely forced a smile. “I'm riding home. Thanks for the Monster Dog.”

“You want a lift?” Tripp asked Will.

“No, thanks.” Grabbing Tripp's deserted fries, Will blew Keely a kiss. “Just drive carefully with my girl.”

*****

“I'm glad you came by Mosley's,” Keely told Tripp after they dropped Megan off. On the way, the two of them had decided Megan's dad used dry onion soup mix in his hamburgers, and when she said they had some on a pantry shelf, they'd been very pleased with themselves. Now, a frown creased Tripp's forehead.

“I'm surprised since you had Will the Wonder Boy there.” He shot her a suspicious glance. “Is that why you said you were going to J's and went somewhere else?”

“Don't be silly. I was going to J's, and I was sitting in class wishing I'd asked you to meet us there when I got in trouble.” She didn't say she'd been thinking about him holding her in his arms, dancing. “After that, I was too bummed to join the crowd.”

“What did this Cranbrook say to you?”

“Nothing important,” she lied. “He's weird.”

“Speaking of weird, is that juvenile jerk your boyfriend?”

“You mean Will? Don't be insulting.”

“He acts like a six-year-old, except he can't keep his hands off you.”

Keely smothered a smile. Tripp sounded jealous. “Will's had a crush on me since … fall, I think.” Since Mark was killed and she wasn't dating anyone. “I never let Will close before.”

“I hope you don't again. How can he be such a baby? Building forts with fries. My fries, at that! I'll bet his mama used to play choo-choo to get him to eat his food, and he never got over it.”