Crunch (9 page)

“HEY, DEWEY.” ROBERT DEAL STOOD AT THE OPEN
Bike Barn door. The morning sun wasn’t quite over the trees. Vince was taking Angus and Eva to camp. Lil was—where else?—out back of the barn.

“Oh, hey, Robert!” I said. Then I worried. Why was he here? “Oh my gosh, did something happen to your bike?”

“No. The bike is fine. I’m not even sure why I’m here,” he said, and laughed. “Dewey, I don’t know if you can understand this, but I am a
displaced person
. I
need
to work. I
like
to work. I started out on the highway again this morning on the old job hunt. But the truth is, there’s nothing left for me to look at right now. I’m okay for money for a while.
So…would you mind if I hung around your shop today? I’ll—I’ll try to help. I’ll at least stay out of the way. I’m sort of mechanically inclined, and—”

“Be my guest!” I said. “Where do you want to start?”

“Hey, that’s up to you, Boss Man. I’m the drone.”

“Well, here. Disassemble this bearing set,” I said. I handed him a cone wrench. “The proper tool for the job,” I said. “It’s Rule Two.” I tapped Dad’s list with my knuckles. “There might even be a cheat sheet in the drawer. But basically, get it apart without undue force. Then put the parts in the degreasing bath one at a time as you separate them.”

“Okay,” said Robert.

“When they’re clean, lay them out on the toweling in the same order they came apart. That’s part of Rule Five. Study the problem. Seeing how it works helps. Trust me. And if you have questions, just ask me.”

“Or me!” said Vince as he came through the
door. “Hi, Robert. You hanging around today?”

“Yeah,” said Robert. “I’ve always liked taking stuff apart. I was thinking you guys could teach me how to put something together again.”

“Cool. An
apprentice
,” Vince said. “Looks just like a
willing victim
.” He slinked out to the paddock.

I followed him out. “Hey, Vince. Did you bring a spoke wrench out here?” I did a quick search of the grass for anything shiny.

“Nope. I haven’t trued up a wheel in days. That’s you,” he said, and for once he seemed very sure.

“Hmm. Well, did you use that fifteen-speed gear set? We had one set out last night.”

Vince shook his head. “No. I didn’t do that job. You always think it’s
me
when you can’t find something.” He stood up with his arms wide. Gave me a sideways grin. “Wanna have me X-rayed?”

“No. Forget it,” I said. I scanned the paddock one last time. I had no time to hunt. We owned half a dozen spoke wrenches and I had a couple of more gear sets on the shelf inside. Maybe I was wrong.
Maybe I hadn’t set it aside. Maybe it’d turn up later.

Through the morning, we could hear Lil banging on the barn. I knew she’d cut out a bunch of paper tracings last night—Angus’s and Eva’s—all in different flying positions. There had been a mad search for a staple gun early that morning. She had to be tacking them up now. Maybe she would spray today and be done with my compressor. Every so often I’d hear the scaffold thump on the barn wall. It was a heavy old thing and it had to be all she could do to move it by herself. But would Lilly Marriss ask for help? No.

Vince left to pick up Angus and Eva, and Robert and I went to the house for lunch and iced tea. Lil came running in, calling my name.

“Dewey! Hey, hey! Dewey!” She stopped in her tracks when she saw us. “Oh. Robert,” she said, and with each word her face seemed to drop a little more. “You’re here again.”

“Hi, Lilly. How’s it going?” Robert said.

“Okay. Fine,” she said. I pushed a glass of tea her way and she took it. “So what brings you
back again so soon?” Lil said.

“Umm…umm.” I tucked a bite of pizza into my cheek. “The job hunt stinks. He’s hanging out with Vince and me today. He’s helping. It’s great!”

“I hope it’s all right,” Robert said, looking at Lil. “I mean, with everyone.”

Lil didn’t answer.

“Hey, what were you going to tell me?” I asked her.

“Oh,” she said, “it was just—well, I’m getting ready to spray again.”

“Cool,” I said. I grinned at her. “When do I get the compressor back?”

She shook a finger at me. “We’ll talk about that tonight, when we’re folding laundry. And we
will
be folding laundry, Dew.”

That afternoon, I barely saw Angus and Eva.

Vince checked up on them at some point and gave me the short answer. “Painting with Lil. Everyone is happy.” That was good enough for me. I kept on working.

Robert was good new energy for the Bike Barn.
He had questions, so we talked, and Vince even moved his bike stand closer to the paddock door just to listen in and comment now and then. In the late afternoon, I took a quick look through the spindles. I just liked knowing what tomorrow had in store.

I mumbled as I read the names and jobs. “Fleming, brake shoes. Dominico, shifters. Gilmartin—
blech
.
Gilmartin.
”

Vince laughed. “Tough customer,” he told Robert, and I nodded sort of absently.

I told Robert, “He called us rinky-dink coffee canners ’cause the shop’s in a barn and we put the money in a tin.”

“Oh, that’s just rude,” Robert said.

“And wrong,” said Vince. “
Not
a coffee can. A peppermint tin.”

Robert laughed. “And you keep milk-and-egg-money in a teapot,” he said. “That makes you a teapotter, too, then.” He stuck a finger at me and said,
“Teapotter.”

We were laughing and working when Lil came up and slapped her palm on the door. “Hey, you
guys,” she said. The three of us looked up. The twins were right behind her. “Plan to knock off pretty soon. Vince, I want a pit fire. I’m making chili and I don’t want to heat up the house. Dew, I want the clothes brought off the line. Don’t miss the ones on the fence rail. We’ll fold while we cook.”

Being the parents, I thought.

“On it,” Vince said.

“Hi, Vince! Hi, Dewey! Oh, hi, Robert Deal,” Eva said. She carried a roll of brown paper against her chest. Angus had dirty paintbrushes in his hands. Rainbow-colored drips ran down his wrist. “We made our own mur-wall,” Eva said.

“Mural,”
said Lil.

“Well.” Robert looked at them expectantly. “Let’s see!” he said.

Angus dropped the brushes in the dirt. They spread the brown paper out and began to explain.

“We’re painting Mom and Dad in the truck, right here,” Angus said. “I did this part.” He’d made a boxy truck with a long row of wheels underneath it.

“And over here is where they’re going to get
diesel,” Eva said. She pointed to a square with a long hose coming out of it. “Here is the highway, and this is our house…”

Robert listened to all of it, then said, “I see. It’s
very
nice.”

“But our sister is making a
real
mur-wall on the barn,” Eva said. “And she has a scaffold and—”

“And tomorrow she’s going to move it one more time and then we can climb right in the hay door! From outdoors!” Angus pointed madly. Eva jumped up and down. I thought they were both going to hyperventilate.

“Robert, are you staying for dinner?” Eva asked.

A beat went by before Lil said, “You’re welcome to stay.”

“Great, then!” I said. I decided to answer for him.

“Don’t forget,” Lil said. “The laundry and the pit. Pretty quick now.”

Vince had a flame going by the time I’d cleaned up and brought the laundry basket to the picnic table. I set the mountain of clothes down gently.
Balanced it with my hands. Robert snapped a T-shirt off the top.

“No, no, no.” Lil picked the shirt out of his hands. “You can’t fold our laundry.”

“Bet I can,” he said.

Lil smiled only slightly. “But you
may not
,” she said.

It turned out he might
not
chop onions, carrots, or green peppers either. I thought she was making a stupid show of the whole we-can-do-it-on-our-own thing.

Way to make the “comfortable sort” uncomfortable, Lil.

Robert didn’t linger after supper. The minute he was far enough down our driveway to be out of hearing range, Lil turned to me. We were still working on the laundry. She shook a pair of my own boxers at me.

“So, Dewey, what gives with Robert being in the shop all day?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is he playing Mr. Good Samaritan here? Does he think he’s rescuing us?”

“Rescuing us from what?” I said. “He’s learning stuff. And he’s pretty good, too.”

“Look, I know you are managing the Bike Barn, but you need to talk to me about changes like that.”

“Like what? Letting a guy hang around and help for the day?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Um…he’s coming back to hang around tomorrow,” I said.

Vince cracked up.

“You!” Lil pointed a finger at him. “Go get Angus and Eva started on dishes. And tell them I said not too much soap. The counter was all slippery this morning.”

Vince took a stack of clean clothes into the house with him. Lil sat, giving me a piercing look from across the table.

“What?” I said.

“I’m serious,” she said. “You’re in charge of the shop, but don’t forget I’m in charge of
everything
.” She drew a wide circle in the air with a sweep of her arm. “So I can’t ignore what’s happening in
that barn. If Robert’s coming back, then let’s be clear that he’s
not
babysitting us, and we’re
not
his community-service project. We are doing just fine.” She snapped a towel out of the laundry and gave it a firm folding. “He’s a bike mechanic. And you need to pay him.”

I think I was probably curling a lip at her, just trying to wrap my head around all those words. I shrugged and answered, “Okay.”

“Good. Next thing,” she said. “All those bikes in the shop and the paddock…everywhere. It looks like it’s gaining on you. Maybe it’s time to slow it down.”

I stared back at my sister. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Think about it. Vince has been stressed out—”

“He was! But I made an adjustment for that!” I stood up. “Besides, I don’t
make
him work,” I said. “Not ever.”

“Right. But he feels like he’s supposed to be there whenever you are. That’s most of the time. Also, do you know what day it is, Dew?”

I probably gave her a blank look while I thought about it.

“Friday,” she said. “And Sea Camp’s over. Angus and Eva will be home all day from now on. I’m not doing all their care by myself.”

“So! I’m ready for that,” I said. (I wasn’t.)

“Dewey, I think Dad is worried about you and the shop.”

“He said so? To you?”

“He said it to
you
. Didn’t you hear? He wants you to back off and be a kid! Have a little bit of a summer. We’re going to be okay. The work will still be there when Dad gets back to help you.”

“Right! So why not log it in? Most of those bikes aren’t rideable anyway, Lil. People don’t like the wait. But they can’t walk those heaps all the way to Bocci Bike and Rec in Sand Orchard. When Dad gets back, we’ll get through the orders all the faster. Besides, people count on us. Especially now. Do you have any idea how many bikes Vince and I have put back on the road since Mom and Dad left?”

“Dew, you’ve been awesome. But I’m supposed
to look out for you, and—”

“Look out for
me
? I don’t need you looking out for me! What am I? Another five-year-old? I’m managing that shop while you’re hanging off a scaffold—”

“Hey!” She stopped me cold. “Don’t say it! I didn’t expect to spend my summer like this—covering everything that needs to be done around here. I’m supposed to be in a class. In the city. So don’t even say it, Dewey! Don’t!” She pulled her lips in. She was done talking.

I was done listening. I left the laundry and stomped off into the shop. I rolled the door shut behind me and leaned on it.

Hanging off a scaffold.

Okay. Superstupid thing to say to Lil. She was right; this was not the summer of her dreams. I felt like dirt.

Only two things in this world seem to set me straight when everything else has collided. One is a long, all-out bike ride. The other is a cleaning frenzy. The way I saw it, I didn’t particularly deserve the bike ride. Not until I apologized to Lil,
and well, I wasn’t up for the taste of crow so soon after supper. Robert had run the Shop-Vac just the night before, so not much dust was floating around. I looked at the paper slips and the parts all plunked down on the bench ready for tomorrow.

The inventory, I thought. That’s sort of like cleaning.

I set to counting everything in sight. I made lists. I took a look at all the logged-in jobs and compared them to the parts we had in stock. Then I spent a while trying to stuff away the feeling that maybe Lil was right; maybe this was gaining on me—just a little bit.

ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, ROBERT AND I
heard lots of scrambling and rustling above the shop. He glanced up and said, “You grow big squirrels here on the Marriss mini-farm.”

Then we heard a victory cheer. “We did it!”
Stomp, stomp, stomp!
Dust fell from the boards above us.

I called to Vince, “Psst! Here they come!”

Angus and Eva threw open the Trap with a bang. They appeared at the hole and called, “Who’s down there?”

I answered them with a load roar and a growl. A second later Angus and Eva came running down the stairs into the shop.

“We made it!” Eva said. “All the way up the scaffold!”

“And in the hay door!” Angus shouted. “And here we go again!”

They took lap after lap. I watched them turning redder and redder in the dry heat. “They could use a run under the hose,” I mumbled. “And maybe a sandwich.”

“Hey, you know what?” Robert said. He set a wrench down and wiped his hands on a rag. “I say we all go for ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” Vince came around the corner.

“Come on. Let’s lock up. Just for an hour, Boss Man. Hallenrock Dairy is still open. Everybody should have a weekend. Or at least a couple of hours off on a Saturday.” Robert gave me a convincing sort of nod.

“I’m with him.” Vince pointed at Robert with a socket wrench.

“Have Angus and Eva even had lunch?” I asked Vince.

He shrugged. “They were in the garden for a while.”

“Yeah, but they’re not
rabbits
,” I said.

“Bet they’re hotter than they are hungry.”

“Come on!” Robert said again. “Angus and Eva will like this.”

I looked at Vince. “Okay. We’ll take the tandem? We’ll pull the twins together?”

“You’re on,” said Vince.

On their next run through the shop, I caught Angus and Eva in my monster arms and told them, “
We’re
going to make
you
eat
ice cream
!” They ran squealing around the back of the barn to tell Lil.

Big surprise: She decided to go with us. (I was a little sorry. I wanted points for taking Angus and Eva off her hands for a while.)

“Dew, bring money from the tin. We’ll treat at the dairy,” she said.

I locked up. We loaded up. We took the path toward the shore roads, figuring we’d catch the sea breeze. On our way through the yards we saw Mr. Spivey staring at the back of the barn. As we broke through the shade, Lil said, “I don’t think he loves my mural.”

I said, “Well, then you’re doing good work!”

We saw Officer Macey coming along Beach Road.

“Hey, Officer Plainclothes!” Lil called out. “We’re heading out to Hallenrock Dairy. Want to come?”

“Wish I could,” he said. “I’m on duty in less than an hour. Hallenrock is a little too far out in the wrong direction. But thanks!”

The sea breeze felt awesome—a reminder of summer beach days when I had nothing to do but push my toes into the sand and keep my lunch away from the gulls. But I could not have relaxed into a day like that. Not while I was managing the Bike Barn. As we got closer to the dairy, I got a wicked case of shop fever. Kept feeling like I ought to be working, and like Officer Macey had said, I was heading in the wrong direction.

A couple of scoops of raspberry swirl in a waffle cone and a cool patch of grass in the shade helped me chill. But I was the first one to snap my helmet back on. If I hadn’t been Vince’s tandem partner, I might have gone on ahead of my siblings. I set a fast pace for home. I took us up the connector to the highway. We flew down the ramp toward home.

“Whee-hee! We’re on the high-a-w-a-a-y!” The twins cheered from their seats in the carrier, hands up in the wind.

Vince and I began to pull away from Robert and Lil.

“Hey, hey. Not so fast with the precious cargo!” Lil called.

“Can’t go fast! Too much twin in the trunk!” I called. “But we’ll beat you home, for sure.”

“Not by much!” Lil insisted. It was funny to look back and see her neck and neck with Robert.

“Vince, you ready?” I asked.

“Oh yeah.”

We biked out. Best we could with the extra weight.

I do a lot of things with my brother. Home stuff. School stuff. Bike-shop stuff. But there is no place on earth that we are better together than on the tandem. We had perfectly smooth road and wide-open space to travel. I had to laugh when I remembered Lil saying, “Dad always says the highway is fastest.” It was.

“We should come out more often!” I shouted.

“You say when!” Vince called back.

It was true. He’d go anytime.

“Soon!” I said. “Who knows how long the shortage will last? Ha! Picking it up now,” I called. “We are
two
with the machine!”