Lawn Boy Returns (5 page)

“That is not groovy at all.”

“Really.”

“Numbers are so clean and elegant; people are so messy and complicated.” Arnold sighed. “I know! We’ll get an office manager once we move into the new office space. Someone who can keep things totally cool.” He gestured to Allen, who wrote down OFFICE MANAGER in the small notebook he carried. Allen was always writing down things Arnold said.

“You’re saying we actually need someone to manage the people who are working for us to manage the business?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? But just think—you’re stimulating the economy by giving all these people jobs.”

“But who’s going to manage the people we hire to manage the people who manage the business?”

“Oh. Well … wait. You’re kidding now, right? Because we don’t really need to have people manage the people who manage the people who manage the business. That would be just silly.”

“Good.”

He studied me for a moment. “How do you think Kathy is doing?”

There was a strange sound in his voice. I looked at him quickly, then away. Oops. He had that look. The same one that Lindy got when Frank walked into the room and the same one that Frank and Kenny got when they saw Savannah.

I probably shouldn’t tell Arnold that I heard Kathy on the phone with her boyfriend, Kurt. Must keep up morale.

“She’s busy. She wants us to do a phoner.
Whatever that means. With a commercially geo-marketed syndicated radio show. Whatever
that
means. Today. But you know, I’m feeling like I need some fresh air so I don’t get any more confused and, you know, run screaming into the lake. I rode my lawn mower over and I think I’ll go out and do a few lawns, just to clear my head.”

“Good.” Arnold had started sorting through a thick pile of envelopes. “You do that. Then come back in the afternoon so we can touch base again.”

Right, I thought. So we can touch base.

Before I headed off to do some yards, I turned to Allen. “You should take the rest of the day off and drag Kenny out of the living room and away from Savannah.”

Allen jumped up. He looked relieved. Kenny was in another room, sitting by the window like a lonely house pet, waiting for Savannah to come back to the office from an appointment.

“I think you both need a change of scenery,” I went on. “Go to the state fair. Eat deep-fried things on sticks. See the freak show. Maybe ask a couple of the autograph girls from the front curb to go.
There’s nothing like a corn dog and a bearded lady to make you forget about work.”

I wished I could go with them, but even more than curly fries and a look at the beauty queen carved life-sized in butter, I needed to work a few lawns today.

10

I signed a few autographs on the way out of Arnold’s driveway, then mowed a few lawns, ate lunch with Louis and his crew, and headed back to the office.

I walked through Arnold’s front door and a lady in a suit and too much red lipstick jumped up from the couch. She shrieked, “There he is, poor child!” and pulled me into a hug that nearly jammed the brass buttons on her jacket through my head.

I peeked over at Arnold for an explanation as she said, “Hi, sweetie, I’m a civil rights attorney and
I heard about your terrible plight on the news. Don’t you worry about a thing from now on, because I’ve already filed a lawsuit on your behalf. I’m suing your parents for violation of child labor laws and having them served with papers immediately upon their return from this inexplicable vacation they’ve taken without you. I’m thinking of reporting them for desertion of a minor child as well,” she finished in a huff.

Arnold seemed to have shrunk with each word.

Then she did that gross thing where she licked her thumb and was about to rub some dirt off my cheek, but I leaped away from her.

And crashed into a fat guy with a ponytail who was holding a bulging briefcase.

“Who are you?”

“I’m the attorney who wants to represent you in your emancipation suit against your parents. Don’t listen to that ambulance chaser”—he gestured toward the lipstick lady—“you’re, what, twelve? Too old to be treated like a child, but plenty old enough to sue for your right to control your own money. I think the youngest plaintiff in a successful litigation of an emancipation suit was fifteen, maybe sixteen, but we have a good case.”

Arnold had started to look like he might blow away.

“You both want me to sue my
parents
?”

“Yes.” They spoke in unison and then glared at each other.

“The wheels are already in motion,” Lipstick Lady said. “In fact, the matter is out of your hands; it’s up to the courts to determine what’s in your best interests now.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Ponytail Guy said. “She finished at the bottom of her online law school class and doesn’t know what she’s talking about. We’ll file an injunction against her suit when we file your suit before she can file an injunction against our suit to stop our suit and injunction to stop her suit. Now, if you’ll just sign here where I’ve indicated with an
X
.”

“Please.” Miraculously, Arnold had regained his previous size and composure. “Leave the papers with our executive assistant and we’ll appraise the points you’ve raised at our soonest convenience. Thank you.”

He all but shoved them out the front door. He locked it and turned to me.

“Let’s sit on the porch and have some tea. We have a lot to talk about.”

I got the distinct feeling that when he said “a lot,” what he meant was “something brand-new.”

Uh-oh.

11

When we were seated at Arnold’s picnic table, I said, “Give it to me straight.”

“The quarterly tax payments that Savannah filed triggered an audit by the Internal Revenue Service.”

Oh, is that all?

“Seems the tax people are alarmed by your sudden, and dramatic, appearance on their radar. Usually, that kind of money stems from illegal activities, especially when the paper trail is so complicated and diverse.

“Your assets are in a slight, some might say a
teeny-tiny, bit of danger of being frozen until every-thing is settled.”

I wasn’t too panicked, since I’d actually never seen the money after the first few weeks, when I had crammed wads of cash into my pockets. Now all the money existed solely as digits on a computer screen.

“Can the crews still work? I’d hate for them to lose money.”

“Sure. Pasqual will collect the money from the clients as always, pay the workers and then deposit your portion into the bank account. Even if it does become frozen, you can still make deposits, you just can’t make withdrawals. If necessary, I’ll cover salaries for Frank and Lindy and Gib and Savannah until we get this muddle straightened out. I’ll make sure Joey Pow is okay too.”

“What a mess.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve filed an emergency appeal.”

“How long will that take?”

“Well, since we’re claiming this is an emergency and that many livelihoods are at stake, I’d say three to six months.”

“How long does it take if they don’t think it’s urgent?”

“Don’t ask. But in that case … maybe your grandchildren could get some money.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

This, I thought, has been a very interesting day.

12

Arnold and I were sitting quietly. I was trying not to barf on his picnic table.

All I had wanted was a new inner tube for my ten-speed, which I never got to ride anymore anyway, and now all this had happened.

In my mind’s eye, I could picture Allen and Kenny at the state fair, probably riding the Ferris wheel and eating ginormous wads of cotton candy and dragging around ratty stuffed animals they’d won at the milk can throw. Would I ever have fun again?

Money problems for someone my age are supposed to be about not having any, not about having so much that the feds come after you.

And here I’d thought telling Kenny and Allen I was rich had been tricky. Wait until Mom and Dad got home and I had to break it to them that my finances were being audited. Or frozen. Or audited and then frozen. Whatever. It was not the kind of news you broke to your parents over the phone; this called for face time when they got back from up north.

I thought about talking to Grandma in the meantime, but she’d probably just tell me not to go swimming until an hour after I ate.

And I would have liked to talk to Joey, but he might handle the trouble by pinching heads at the tax office. Nope, I was on my own with this one.

Oh, well, I thought, it’s only money. It’s not like anything really bad has happened.

That was when Rock showed up on the back porch.

“We have trouble,” he announced.

I don’t know about anyone else, but thirty seconds without bad news and I’m bored.

“What kind of trouble, and what do you mean ’we’?” Arnold and I asked at the same time.

“Joey Pow wasn’t supposed to win. Some rough people wanted Bruiser to win. They told Joey Pow to throw the fight or else …”

“Or else what?”

Rock flinched. “I don’t know if he forgot to lose or if he just doesn’t have it in him to be dishonest or if he didn’t want to let you down, but now these guys are mad. They lost a lot of money on the fight and …” Rock trailed off.

“Why are
you
telling us?” I asked.

“You’ve got no reason to trust me after our prior dealings, I understand, but Joey, well, he’s a good person and these are guys I used to know and it’s your grandmother they threatened.”

“Grandma?”
I jumped up. “What are they going to do to my grandmother?”

“Well, nothing, since Joey hasn’t let her out of his sight.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Okay, Grandma was safe, but if they had come after Joey once, they’d come after him again. Joey was my fighter, and I needed to help him out of this jam.

“Who are these guys who wanted Joey to throw the fight?” I asked.

“Local … businessmen who have invested in Bruiser’s career, really shady characters who’ve been keeping an eye on Joey for a while. Once they heard he had a kid for a sponsor, they thought he’d be a soft touch to throw the fight and make some easy money.”

“Like how you thought it would be easy to take the lawn business away from me?” I folded my arms and glared.

Rock ducked his head. “Yeah. It’s just that, well, no one expects a kid to be doing the kinds of things you’re doing.”

Including me.

“Do you know anything about them?” I asked. “Anything that will help us figure out a way to get them to leave Joey alone?”

“I know that they’re greedy.”

“That could work in our favor,” Arnold said. Behind that laid-back attitude and happy face, Arnold was nobody’s fool.

“And Zed is part of that crew,” Rock said.

“I knew he was up to no good,” I said. “His story about being family is bogus.”

Rock handed me a piece of paper. “I’d really like to help, so I made a list of names and addresses for you. Joey got me out of that bad crowd. Even washing urinals is better than hanging around with those people.”