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Authors: Sandra Kring

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BOOK: How High the Moon
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I could hear Johnny and Brenda talking as I went up, and I heard my name, so I stopped and got spy-quiet.

“Teaspoon’s crush on you is so adorable,” Brenda said, like a ratfink.

“She’s a terrific kid,” Johnny said, and my insides sparkled and I didn’t feel mad at Brenda for being a tattletale anymore. “My old man walked out on me when I was five, too. I guess that’s why I have a soft spot for her.”

What?

“My stepdad doesn’t treat me any different than his own kids, but, well, when you have a parent who agitates the gravel on you like that, it makes you wonder what you did that was so bad they didn’t want to stick around.”

Holy cats! I didn’t know that Mr. Jackson was Johnny’s stepdad. But how could I, with Johnny having that lightbulb shape to his head just like his ma and the rest of the Jackson kids? Even if
Johnny’s was a hundred-watt, while most of the rest were twenty-five-watt bulbs, at best, they still looked like a set.

“It probably feels the same when you have a parent die when you’re a kid, huh?” Johnny said. “Because leaving is leaving.”

“Or maybe you can’t miss what you’ve never had,” Brenda said. “I don’t know.”

“Do you remember him?” Johnny asked.

“Sometimes I think I remember him singing to me once, but Mother said she’d never heard him sing. Who knows. I guess we all remember things as we want to remember them.”

Johnny gave a soft laugh. “Man, I don’t believe that I’m having these kind of conversations with Brenda Bloom.”

“I don’t believe I’m having them, period,” Brenda said.

They were quiet for a good minute, so I got super-still. I didn’t hear more than a soft giggle from Brenda.

“I don’t hear her down there anymore,” Brenda said. “Maybe we should get back.”

“Oh, she’s probably getting more candy or pouring herself some more soda pop. Teaspoon’s pretty independent,” Johnny said.

“I think she just likes to work the fountain, because she doesn’t drink half of what she pours. Either that, or she forgets she’s poured it.” They both laughed, but I didn’t. The way Brenda said it, it almost sounded like she was calling me afflicted.

Yep. A lot of things changed after Dumbo Doug ran Charlie over. Mostly, Brenda. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Brenda and me
were at the Starlight, about two weeks after Charlie got hit. It was a Saturday. Mrs. Bloom had delegated the job of cleaning the warehouse part of the furniture store to Mr. Morgan. Like Brenda said, Mrs. Bloom was
obsessed
with the thought of dust ruining the new grand, even though Mr. Morgan had wrapped it like a mummy in old blankets and sheets of plastic. “And don’t stir up the dirt while you’re cleaning,” Mrs. Bloom ordered, though how he was going to clean that place without making dust fly was beyond me.

Mr. Morgan wasn’t real happy about having to come in and clean after he’d asked to have the weekend off since his ma and dad were coming to Mill Town for a visit and the Starlight was closed anyway. So Brenda told him she’d come in and help so it could get done faster. I said I’d help, too.

Brenda looked like Cinderella before the animals got her respectable, dressed in blue pedal pushers with a stain on the leg (I didn’t even know Brenda could get a stain!), a short sleeveless blouse that, to tell the truth, was ugly enough to have come from a Jackson sack, and a scarf tied Aunt-Jemima on her head. Even with the ramp door open, we were sneezing like nuts from the dirt we weren’t supposed to stir.

Brenda and Mr. Morgan said I was a good helper, but I don’t
think I was because every time I picked up a tool, I’d ask them if it was a bargaining tool, because I remembered Teddy saying something about needing one a while back, and as far as I knew he still hadn’t gotten one. Then Brenda or Mr. Morgan would have to tell me all over again that it was an upholstering or carpentry tool. Then maybe I’d pick up one of those books that Brenda said was a
ledger
and page through it, looking for a new fancy word I might have to read out loud, or want to toss in a Scrabble game, even though all those books seemed to have in them was numbers. And while I was working, I’d sing a little of this song or that, and now and then Mr. Morgan would join in.

I was holding up a metal something-or-other and asking Brenda if it was an upholstering tool, too, when Brenda went stiff. I turned, thinking I’d see Mrs. Bloom standing there on her crutches, scowling at the dirt swirling from Mr. Morgan’s broom. Instead, it was Leonard picking his way across the room, watching his white shoes like he might step on one of those land mines like in
Bridge Over the River Kwai
.

“Leonard, what are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming home this weekend.” Brenda dabbed at her sweaty, dusty face with the backs of her hands, like a cat trying to clean herself. All she did, though, was make smears.

“You’d have known if you’d picked up your phone last night.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it.” Brenda grabbed a coffee can filled with rusty nails and tossed it in the garbage can. “I was exhausted, so I went to bed early.”

Leonard looked around the room. “No doubt you were, if this is the sort of work you’ve been doing. Isn’t that what you’ve got
him
for?” Leonard said, poking his thumb toward Mr. Morgan.

I didn’t want to listen to Leonard because I didn’t even like the sound of his voice, so I tried to ignore him like Mr. Morgan was doing. It didn’t work so well, though. Not when he got up close to Brenda and started growling at her, asking her what the deal was… why she’d acted so different on the phone all week.

“Maybe because I was trying to figure out why you were calling every night, when ordinarily you only call once a week.”

“What? A guy has to have a reason to call the girl he’s going to marry?”

Brenda didn’t say anything. She just went back to her work, using one hand like a broom and the other like a dustpan to get the upholstering tacks off the workbench.

“You didn’t answer my question. What’s going on?”

“I did answer. I fell asleep early because I was tired,” Brenda repeated.

Leonard grabbed Brenda’s arm then, and the stray nails she had in her fist pinged against the cement floor. He grabbed her tight enough that her skin went pale around his fingers. The whites of Mr. Morgan’s eyes turned to half-moons as he glanced over at Leonard without moving his head or slowing his broom. “Go wash your face and hands. You’ve got some explaining to do,” Leonard said.

“You’re hurting her arm,” I snapped. Mr. Morgan stiffened.

Leonard looked over at me, the skin around his pinchy nose wrinkling. “Who does this kid think she is, anyway?” he said.

“Teaspoon. Brenda’s Sunshine Sister,” I reminded him.

“Well, mind your own business, Tablespoon. Or whatever your name is,” Leonard said.

Brenda told me to keep working, and she followed Leonard out of the room and down the new hallway

As soon as they left, I looked at Mr. Morgan. He was wiping his sweaty face with a grubby-looking handkerchief. “You hot?” I asked. “I’ll go get us a soda pop.”

“You mind your own business, Teaspoon,” Mr. Morgan warned.

“I know. I’m just going to the concession stand,” I said, even if that was a lie as big as the grand.

The Starlight was dark, but for the little lights glowing from the ends of each aisle seat and a smudge of light showing through the
empty projection windows. I hurried to set two paper cups under the spouts of the fountain, just to make it look good. Then I headed up the stairs, glancing back twice, hoping my dusty shoes weren’t tracking, because what kind of a spy leaves footprints?

I figured no one would see me if I stayed outside the projection room door on my hands and knees and peeked around the corner. After all, who would think to look on the floor across a dark room for a pair of snooping eyes and ears?

“What in the hell’s going on here, Brenda? And don’t tell me nothing, because I know better. You’ve been acting odd all week.” Leonard had Brenda up against the wall, his hands braced on both sides of her like clink bars, his legs spread.

“Maybe I should ask you the same,” Brenda said, her voice shaky, but not noodley. “I heard you got pretty cozy with Pattie Melbourne at Thad’s cookout.”

“What the hell are you talking about? And why are you trying to turn this around? We’re talking about you here, and the way you didn’t have time to talk to me all week.”

“So you hurried home to check up on me, even though you know how busy I’ve been?”

“Thad told me you had some trash in your car.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brenda said. She pressed her hands flat against the wall.

“Of course you do. Trish said she thought it might have been that scum that works here.”

“Scum?” Brenda said. “I didn’t have any
scum
in my car. But Johnny Jackson went with me to bring Teaspoon’s little friend to the hospital after he got hit out in our parking lot. I was too shook up to drive.”

Leonard didn’t look very strong, wax-bean-skinny that he was, but he must have been because Brenda let out a yelp when he grabbed her wrist. “That kid got hit two weeks ago, Brenda. They saw you last night. And Thad said he heard your Thunderbird was up on River Road.”

“Let me go, Leonard,” Brenda said.

“Let you go?” Leonard’s voice got higher as he mocked her, then he laughed. “You’re mine, Brenda. And I think you’d be wise to remember that.”

And then, though I don’t know why, because it certainly wasn’t one of those romantic times that make a lady’s eyes go dreamy, Leonard leaned down and kissed Brenda, movie-star-hard.

“Hmmmm,” he said. “My little girl smells dirty.”

“Leonard, please,” Brenda said. “Don’t kiss me when you’re angry.”

Leonard grabbed Brenda’s other wrist then, and she let out another yelp. He held her arms wide, then kissed her again. And I swear I heard the back of her head hit the wall.

That’s when my affliction flared up.

I didn’t bother getting to my feet. I just scampered across the projector room on my hands and knees, crawling fast as a baby with rabies. And before either of them registered that I was in the room, I yanked Leonard’s pant leg up and dug my teeth into his ankle.

Leonard let out a yelp, then his heel came off the floor—I suppose when he twisted around to see what was suddenly paining him—but still I didn’t let go.

“Ow, ow,” he shouted. “What in the hell?” Leonard started cussing, but I just bit down all the harder, my head jerking along with his leg when he tried to get me to let go.

“Leonard!” Brenda shouted, “Careful! You’re going to hurt her!”

“I’m going to hurt
her
?” Leonard screamed between curses, swatting at my head until I had to let go.

I scrambled to my feet, my chest still thumping with mad. Leonard was rubbing his ankle, and I was rubbing off my tongue with the bottom of my shirt cause, respectable or not, Leonard Gaylor was the kind to have cooties.

Leonard glared down at me for a second, then glared at Brenda. He was shaking mad. He ran his hands through his bristly hair,
then pointed a finger at Brenda. “Don’t go making me look like a fool. I staked my claim on you a long time ago. Nobody with any worth wants to buy a used car, Brenda. And I’ve put more than a few miles on you.”

He took a deep breath. “I’ll be by at eight to pick you up. Have yourself cleaned up by then.”

As I headed home that day, I wished Charlie was still able to wait for me outside the Starlight, because I wanted somebody to spout my mean thoughts about Leonard to. But a couple days later, when I came home from an early-evening “all Sunshine Sisters” meeting, so the
Mill Town Monitor
could take our picture and talk to us about being Sisters and the gala, I realized that it was better if Charlie couldn’t tag along to my meetings anymore, because Charlie made a better spy than he did a listener.

Well, sort of.

“What do you mean, Teddy and Miss Tuckle kissed like Eskimos?” I asked.

“You know,” Charlie said, getting up, and leaning his face over to make his nose spar with mine like the Jackson boys did with their cardboard swords, only not as hard. “Like that.”

“When did they do that?” I asked.

“When he walked her out to her car because she was gonna leave. They were standing by it, real close, talking. Then they did that.”

“Then what happened?”

“He opened the car door and she left.”

“They’re supposed to be just friends. She swore it,” I said, wondering if an Eskimo kiss meant the same thing as a lip kiss. “Did they talk like just friends while she was here?”

“I dunno,” Charlie said. “I was playing. And they left.”

“Where’d they go?”

“I dunno.”

I plunked my hand down over Charlie’s, so he had to stop playing. “Charlie, listen up. The next time she shows up here while I’m gone, you keep your eyes sharp and your ears peeled, got it? You’re going to be my spy from now on, and I want you to tell me everything that goes on here when I’m gone.”

Teddy sure was proud when he got his next
Mill Town Monitor
. “Look at that. My little Teaspoon, right in the center front,” he said.

While Teddy was cutting the article out of the paper so he could tape it to the fridge, I told him, “You know that part where the reporter man wrote that I said I liked the Sunshine Sisters program because it teaches me how to behave so I won’t get in so much trouble in school anymore? And where I said that Mrs. Bloom was real nice to let us be in the gala because it makes us feel special? Well, the words he said were supposed to be a
quote
—that’s what Brenda said it’s called when they print the exact words you said—but that wasn’t exactly what I said. I said that Mrs. Bloom is real nice to let us be stars in the gala, because it will help us not feel so bad about having afflictions. Like Mindy Brewer, who is shy about her big teeth, but is going to smile on stage without holding her hand over her mouth now, because Mimi Hines has big teeth and she doesn’t cover hers.”

I think Mrs. Bloom was happy about what I said, too, because she wasn’t crabby with me when she came in while me and Brenda were having our next meeting. She was crabby at Brenda, though.

BOOK: How High the Moon
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