The Graham Cracker Plot (11 page)

I grabbed our backpacks.

“He's leaving the barn,” Graham said.

Fred growled. He put his head under the curtain and barked.

“Is he going to his car?” I asked.
Please, please, please let the answer be yes.

Graham whirled around. “I can't tell. The pickup's in the way.” The longest ten seconds in my life followed. “He's coming to the house! Run! Hide!”

We jumped up and froze, waiting for someone to take the lead.

“Upstairs!” I led Ashley and Graham to the bathroom. I pushed the shower curtain open, and we climbed inside the tub and closed the curtain. Ashley reached past the curtain and pulled the fancy guest towel into the shower. She wrapped it around her eyes. Her breathing came hard and fast.

I looked around for something we could use as a weapon. All I could find was shaving cream, so I picked it up and put my finger on the button in case I needed to spray a face. I held a pink razor in my other hand. Graham had the toilet plunger.

My heart throbbed and banged in my ears. The thumping was so loud I was afraid it echoed in the shower. Graham was so nervous he breathed in and out through his mouth, not his nose. Slimy marshmallows clung to his shirt. Man, it was the stink of all stinks! Dog puke and morning breath trapped behind a plastic shower curtain.

We listened. A door slammed, and the killer barking turned into hello barking.

“Maybe he's a robber,” Ashley whispered.

“I don't think so,” I whispered. “He looked at your car like he knew it didn't belong here.”

There were footsteps across the creaky wood floors on the main level. Back and forth. Back and forth. And the clinking of Fred's toenails. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Then a voice. Were there two people? Couldn't be. I figured he was on his cell.

When he stood under the vent, we could hear him. “Mom, it's like somebody partied hard, but there ain't any bottles. No keg … Lillian never lets the dog in the house, right? He's in the house!… Marv promised me forty dollars, and it's not here … I
am
looking around, Mom … If he did crap on the floor, I'm not cleaning it up, that's not what I signed up for … Man, it reeks in here…”

Then his voice got louder. “Yeah, it could be a burglary, but I don't see anything missing … I mean, I'm not even sure what they had … nobody wants those stupid old records, Mom…”

The words faded. My breathing came easier until I heard those clinky toenails outside the bathroom. The door swung open, the shower curtain rustled, and Fred's nose poked through. He was happy to see us. His tail thumped, thumped, thumped against the door.

“Go away!” Graham hissed. “Get outta here!”

“Is it Fred?” Ashley smiled. “Hi, Fred.”

“Get!” I pushed his face and pulled the shower curtain shut. In two seconds, his nose was back in the tub, sniffing.
Thump, thump, thump
went his tail.

“Hi, sweetie,” Ashley whispered.

I heard footsteps on the stairs and the boy's voice. “… Maybe some kids turned it into their party house … Of course it wasn't the storm, Mom, that's just stupid.”

Then he was close. In-the-door close.

“Get outta there!” he ordered, and Fred barked at him. “Stupid dog.” The door closed, and Fred whined from the hall. “I think you should call Marv and Lillian. See what they want to do. I'm just supposed to clean and feed 'em, not solve some mystery.”

Then the worst of the worst happened. His jeans unzipped and he started to
pee
. Graham swallowed giggles, and his face turned pink and then red.

“I guess I'd call 911.” The pee stopped and started again. “I'm not paranoid. Jeez … Okay, I'll hang on.” Then he peed some
more
. And thank God for that peeing noise because Graham's shakes were turning into quiet little snorts. I threatened to spray his face with the shaving cream. “What'd Dad say?… It's stupid for him to come look at the place when I just told you everything.” The toilet flushed. “Damn, it smells. I think the dog barfed and I am
not
cleaning up dog barf … So what'd Dad say?… Whatever. Tell Dad I'll get him at the office and bring him here so he can see for himself. But I don't got all day.”

The bathroom door opened and closed, and I heard Fred's toenails follow the guy down the stairs.

“He didn't wash his hands,” Ashley said. It was the world's loudest whisper.

I got in her face. “Quiet!”

Graham couldn't hold back any longer. He buried his face against Ashley's shoulder to stifle the giggles. I smacked his arm, which caused me to drop the shaving cream with a huge thud.

“Now
that
was loud,” Ashley said.

And it scared them enough to quit giggling. It seemed like an eternity, but the car engine started, and he rumbled away.

“Did you hear that ginormous leak?” Graham screeched. “I tried timing it but it was so funny I lost count.” He snorted and cleared his throat. “That had to be a record. Thank God he didn't take a dump.”

“We're screwed,” I said. “We're absolutely, completely screwed.”

“There's only one thing we can do,” Graham said.

“What?”

“Get the hell outta here.” He ripped back the shower curtain. “Go!”

We stumbled out of the tub. I grabbed some towels and toothpaste from the cupboard. “Ashley,” I yelled. “Go get all the food you can find. Load it in the car! Graham! Get those sheets and pillows. Go in the garage and see if there's extra gas.”

“You
are
bossy,” Ashley said.

“Daisy,
you
get the sheets and pillows,” Graham said. “I'm getting Honey.”

“Honey?”

“The horse needs a name, too. And that's all I got. Honey,” Graham said. “Just go!”

“Graham, maybe the Idea Coin doesn't get everything right. We don't know anything about horses, big or little.”

“I do. I watch cowboy movies. I read horse books.”

“Horse?” Ashley mumbled.

“I need Honey,” Graham said. “Now I'm sure it's going to work.”

I threw my arms in the air. “You weren't sure before?”

“Um, I was pretty sure. Now I'm really sure.” Then Graham ran outside. Debate over.

There wasn't time for me to chase him down. So we raced in different directions. Graham was outside. Ashley dropped the towel and followed me to the kitchen. I tossed a paper bag at her and grabbed a plastic one for myself.

Ashley stood at the pantry and stacked cans of soup in the bag. “Do you like cream of mushroom? Because I don't like cream of mushroom.”

“Who cares! Just move it!” I yelled. I dug through every drawer looking for money. I found a few dollars and lots of change. And a checkbook. I stared at it a moment. Well, they
were
animal abusers, and this was a desperate time. I put the checkbook in the plastic bag with the money I'd found.

Then I put it together: The church people weren't animal abusers. The forty dollars was for that guy to care for the animals until they got home.

Man, oh, man. We needed to fix the farmhouse mess for the church people who loved their animals. I wanted to clean up—cross my heart and hope to die—but a bomb was ticking.

Forward. We could only go forward.

I swear, Judge Henry, it was like you said when you frowned with those thick eyebrows. I needed to be accountable. I promised myself we'd send them a letter and a check when we were safe. A big check, too, not one that only covered the cost of the mess. At least an extra thirty dollars.

I whirled around to yell at Ashley to hurry, but she'd taken her bags to the car. I dug around for more stuff.

The porch door opened. “Daisy!” Ashley yelled. “Daisy!”

“What?”

“The car won't start. Graham says the battery's dead.”

 

DEAR JUDGE HENRY,

Was it because we left the car door open too long? Was it because Graham turned on the dome light while he read the map? Or was it a Universal Force telling us to
stop
!

You called this moment a “crossroads.” I thought you meant an intersection, but the dictionary says
crossroads
is a moment of decision. You're right—we had to make a decision—but you're wrong about it being careless and irresponsible. And that's not back talk. It's respect talk.

There's a point you can't turn back. The Graham Cracker Plot was wired into my brain. I told the Universal Force we had to
go
because I didn't want the County back in our business. I was afraid to go back to school. Kids would find out and call me Crazy Daisy. And if Jesse Ellman picked on Graham, I didn't know whether I'd look at the sky or whether I'd tell him to shut his face and leave my friend alone. If I told Jesse to shut up, then Jesse would bully both of us, and nobody would want to be friends with me, either. Graham wouldn't be my after-school friend. He'd be my
only
friend, my
whole-day
friend. I'd go crazy.

I told the Universal Force we had to
go
because I didn't want Ashley living in a house where nobody danced with her. Because I didn't want to live life without the Chemist. Grandma says the Chemist is a bright light in a dark world. I needed his light.

I looked up at the sky and yelled at the Universal Force, “Nice try!” Then I said swear words I promised the Chemist I wouldn't use until high school.

So this was the deal: I was shouting. Fred was standing next to Honey, who'd apparently let Graham remove her from the stall. Fred sniffed Honey's butt while Graham stared at the battery, his hands squeezed into fists.

Then Ashley pulled my arm. “I'm going to change into my clothes. Let me know when you get it figured out.”

“Grab our clothes, too!” I said. “They're still in the dryer.”

“This ain't fashion show time. It's get-the-hell-out-of-here time!” Graham threw his arms in the air, but his oversized pants started to drop. He caught them at his knees, tugged them up past his tighty-whities to his waist, and tightened the belt.

I covered my eyes. “Eww!”

Graham said, “That guy is coming back with his dad and maybe the police. Am I the only one who gets it?”

“I get it. I get it. Okay. We can't panic. Our moms are goddesses of the dead battery. Crappy cars that never start in the winter? Tires that blow out? And empty bank accounts? Our moms are self-taught mechanics. We can do this.”

Graham nodded. “Okay. I'll see what I can find in the garage. You figure out how we're going to get a horse in the escape car.”

He ran to the garage. I shouted after him, “We're not. No horse in the escape car!”

Instead, I ran inside to get more stuff. From the kitchen I heard Ashley giggle. She was holding a Beefy Bit high in the air and Fred was jumping and twirling in circles. “Want a treat? Do you, sweetie?” He whined and jumped. He pawed her leg and barked and barked and barked. “Do you want a treat, sweetie?”

“Yes, Ashley,” I yelled. “I think he wants a treat!”

“You're crabby!” She gave Fred his treat, which he swallowed whole, and she threw the bag at me. Hit me right in the face with Beefy Bits. Fred raced to my side while Ashley flounced downstairs to change. I put the treats and Fred's leash with our stuff. He followed me, whining for more.

“Go away, Fred!”

Graham carried a battery charger to the front of the escape car. It was a small box with a long cord to plug into an outlet, and two short cords dangling from the front. One of the short cords had a red clamp, and the other had a black clamp. I've watched people charge my mom's car a bunch of times, so I knew I could do this.

“Where's the outdoor outlet?” Graham asked.

I pointed to the porch. He plugged the charger in and marched it toward the car. He stopped. The electric cord between the outlet and the battery charger was stretched as far as it could go. He couldn't get any closer.

“I think it's okay.” I grabbed the red and black clamps. “They'll reach. Just hold the charger.”

I stretched those cords as far as I could, but they were one inch from the battery. Just one friggin' inch.

“A little closer,” I told Graham.

Graham stepped forward and the whole thing unplugged from the outlet. “Damn!” Graham plopped the charger on the ground and kicked a rock across the driveway.

Think
, I told myself.
Think.

Fred and Honey stood in front of the garage, just watching and flicking their tails. Honey's reddish-brown hair shimmered in the sun, and she tossed her thick mane like she knew she was beautiful. Fred scratched his ear. Then Fred and Honey exchanged glances and both looked at me. If thought balloons floated over their heads, those balloons would say
Think, Daisy, think!
and
Gimme me a Beefy Bit, would ya?

The keys were in the engine from yesterday. I sat in the driver's seat and moved the steering wheel stick from the
P
for park to the
N
for neutral.

“What are you doing?” Graham asked.

“Every time our car dies in the road I have to sit behind the wheel and put it in neutral, and Mom pushes the car to the shoulder. We can push it closer to the outlet. So push! Just a couple of inches.”

Graham pushed. He groaned and grunted, but the escape car didn't move.

“The grass is slippery. Get out and help. We don't need anyone to steer.”

I pushed, too. I pushed so hard I grunted. My feet kept slipping, and the escape car wouldn't move.

Ashley twirled on the porch. She had on a long black wig, black pants, a tight black shirt, and a black scarf. “This place is so perfect! It's my escape. I wish we could stay.”