The Life and Crimes of Bernetta Wallflower (13 page)

BOOK: The Life and Crimes of Bernetta Wallflower
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“Bernetta? I'm just—I need to say I'm sorry. I mean, I know I said it before, but it's true. I'm really sorry. I never should have done it, and I wish I hadn't. I've been thinking about it since Friday, and I—I need to make it up to you. I want to get your money back, Bernetta. I want to help you. And I think I know how we can do it.”

“Gabe . . .” Bernetta said softly, but he cut her off.

“It's a long con. You know, how I was telling you before, like in
The Sting
? I found one we can actually do. Wait, I'll show you.”

He leaped up, leaned in through his open window, and stood on his toes as he tried to reach something. When he slid back down to the ground, he was holding a book, a thick one entitled
Hoaxes and Scams: A Compendium of Deceptions, Ruses, and Swindles
. He began to flip through the pages frantically.

“I was looking at this before I went to sleep last night. I thought we might find something in here we could use to get your money back. And look. Look right here.” He smoothed his hands across a page. “‘Green goods swindle,'” he read. “‘Counterfeit money con game.' Bernetta, it's perfect. We can totally do this.”

Bernetta hoisted herself off the ground and wiped off her shorts. “I'm gonna go now,” she said softly.

“But”—Gabe got to his feet too—“you can't just leave, Bernetta. Look, I know we can pull this off. It's perfect for us. And we can get your Mount Olive money back. I'll give you all the profits. Everything. One hundred percent. I owe you. Please.”

Bernetta took one last look in his eyes, and yes, she was certain they were chocolate after all. But chocolate could be bad for you too. She looked down at her feet and dug the toe of her sneaker into the lawn.

“How do I know I can trust you anymore?” she said.

Gabe shook his head slowly. “I guess you can't,” he answered with a frown. “I mean, you shouldn't. Not really. Not anymore. But . . .” He looked up, and Bernetta thought he might almost be grinning. “Well . . .
do
you?”

Bernetta bit her lip and thought about that. It was a very good question.

Even though Bernetta knew it was probably the stupidest thing she would ever do in her entire life, she agreed to trust Gabe. Just one last time. One last con. They spent the morning planning and scheming, poring over details on the floor of Gabe's room. They tried to work through every moment, and plan for every scenario, so that no matter what happened, they'd always be in control of the game. There were phone calls to make, numbers to crunch, and stratagems to plan. And late that afternoon, when they couldn't think of any more wrinkles to straighten out, Gabe made Bernetta watch
The Sting
with him. They sat side by side on Gabe's living-room couch, a bowl of popcorn between them. There was no more knee touching, but Bernetta was okay with that for the time being.

When Gabe paused the movie to get up for more soda, Bernetta plucked a loose thread from the couch. “So where are your parents, anyway?” she called into the kitchen.

Gabe appeared in the doorway with two cans of root beer. “At work. Why?”

“Don't they care that you're alone all day?”

Gabe shrugged. “Most summers I go to camp, but my dad missed the application deadline this year, so my parents decided I'd be fine by myself. Anyway, it's not like I'm bored or anything.” He tossed her a soda. “I've been hanging out with you.”

Bernetta looked around the room as she took a sip of root beer. Besides the giant bookshelf crammed with more movies than Bernetta had ever seen, the house looked pretty normal. “I thought you were rich,” Bernetta said. “You said you were raised by a nanny.”

Gabe plopped down next to her on the couch and reached for the remote control. “I lied,” he said, but he was grinning.

“Oh,” Bernetta replied. “Well”—she grabbed a couch pillow behind her—“just don't do it again, all right?” And she tossed the pillow at his head.

“Deal,” he said. And he lobbed it right back.

17

F
ORCED
CARD
n
: a card that the spectator believes he has chosen of his own free will but that has been unknowingly forced upon him by the magician

 

The next morning Bernetta had trouble keeping her eyes open as she chomped on her toast. It had been a long night, with numbers and schemes and plans whizzing through her head, and she'd hardly slept a wink, worrying about the big con she and Gabe were planning.

Across the breakfast table her dad took a bite of oatmeal as she got up to put her plate in the sink. “Hey, Bernie?” he said.

She turned. “Yeah, Dad?”

“I know you've been busy lately, but I was wondering if you'd had any time to work on the French Drop at all.”

“Oh.” She ran some water over her plate. “Um, yeah,” she lied. “Yeah, I'm getting pretty good.”

“Well, I'd love to see it when you think you have it down.”

“Sure.” As she passed the table, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Sure thing, Dad.”

“Oh, and I think it's wonderful you're taking Colin to the Nortons' with you again, Bernie. He really seems to like Hank.”

Bernetta smiled. “Yeah, I think he does.”

Colin dashed into the room at that moment. “BernieBernieBernie, wait for meeeeeee!”

“I'm waiting, I'm waiting,” she said with a laugh. “You ready, Colombo?”

“Yeah. I got my rain boots on, see?” Colin lifted up his feet in turn, showing off his bright yellow galoshes with bug eyeballs on the toes.

“Colin, it's not raining.”

“Yeah, but this way, if the giant slugs come, I won't have to step in any of their slime.”

Bernetta's father got up from the table and knocked on the top of Colin's head. “Good thinking, kiddo. Have fun, you two.”

“We will, Dad,” Bernetta said as she took Colin's hand and headed out the door.

They met Gabe on the corner of Warner and Burnett. He gave Colin a high five. “Nice boots,” he told him.

“They're for the slugs,” Colin replied.

Gabe nodded seriously. “I would've worn mine, but they had holes in them.”

“You can borrow one of mine if you want,” Colin told him.

“I might have to.”

The plan for today, the first part of their long con, was to storm over to Ashley's house and demand Bernetta's money back. They were going as a force, a unit. Hopefully, she'd never see it coming, never know what hit her.

Beside her, Colin was busy stomping in imaginary puddles or squishing invisible slugs, or something.

“Hey, Colin!” Bernetta said. “You want to play a game?”

“Yep.” He ran forward three steps, took a giant leap, then stopped walking. “I mean, maybe,” he called back to her. “What is it?”

“It's called”—Bernetta looked over at Gabe—“I say, you say.”

“How's it work?” Colin asked.

“Well, I say something, then you repeat it, and then you say it as many times as you can. Over and over and over and—”

“And over and over and over and over . . .”

Bernetta laughed. “Good. But you can only say the special words me and Gabe tell you, 'kay?”

“Okay, I'm ready, Bernie Bernie. Gimme a really good one.”

“All right. Um, pineapple.”

“Pineapple!” Colin cried. “Pineapple pineapple pineapple . . .”

Gabe leaned in close to Bernetta as they continued walking. “He catches on quick.”

Bernetta nodded. “Yep. You give him one.”

“Hippopotamus!” Gabe called out.

“Hippopotamus! Hippopotamus hippopotamus hippopotamus hippopotamus hippopotamus . . .”

By the time they got to Ashley's, Colin was a pro at I say, you say, and Bernetta and Gabe were running out of words to give him. “We're here!” Bernetta called out.

“Topeka, Kansas!” Colin replied, still engrossed in the game. “Topeka, Kansas! Topeka, Kans—”

“Just ring the doorbell, 'kay?”

Colin rang Ashley's doorbell with his thumb. Ashley's mother answered.

“Bernetta!” she squealed, and wrapped her arms around her in a hug. She smelled like coffee and fresh-baked waffles. “It's been so long. What have you been up to this summer? We've missed you.”

Well, Mrs. Johansson, after your daughter framed me and I lost my scholarship for next year, I took up thievery, but then she stole
that
money off me too, so now I'm about to pull a long con. Sorry I haven't really had the time to stop by.

“I've, um, been at camp,” she said at last. “Is Ashley home?”

“Sure.” She smiled. “And Gabe!” she cried out. “Why, I hardly recognized you. You must have grown a foot! It's certainly been a while since you stopped by to visit.”

Gabe kicked his feet against the welcome mat. “Yeah, um, sorry about that.”

“Oh, don't worry, sweetie. It's good to see you. Why don't you all come in? I'll get Ashley. I think she's still asleep.” She led them inside. “Have a seat right there on the couch. Ashley dear! You have visitors!” And she scurried down the hallway.

Gabe cleared his throat as they all settled themselves on the fluffy beige couch. “This is probably going to be weird,” he whispered to Bernetta.

“You're telling me,” she said.

“Hippopotamus hippopotamus hippopotamus,” Colin said. “Hippopotamus.”

Mrs. Johansson came back into the room then, with Ashley padding right behind her. She was still wearing her pajamas, which consisted of a pink tank top with the words
DON'T BUG ME WHEN I'M SNOOZING
written on the front, and a pair of flannel shorts covered in ballerina bunnies. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy ponytail. Her face fell when she saw them.

“Here you go, Ash,” her mother said. “Your friends dropped by for a visit, isn't that sweet? Ashley, have a seat. Be a good hostess now. Anybody want some orange juice? Freshly squeezed. I'll just go get some.”

Ashley perched herself on the edge of the armchair, and for several minutes the only person who said anything at all was Colin, still reciting silly words from the walk over. But once Mrs. Johansson had left them to “chat and catch up,” after handing them each a tall glass of orange juice—that's when things got ugly.

Ashley's eyes darted from Bernetta to Gabe and back again. “What are you two morons doing here?” she asked.

“I want my money back,” Bernetta replied. Her hand was shaking as she gripped her glass. She did her best to steady it. “You stole it, and it's mine, so you have to give it back.”

“Right,” Ashley said. “Like that's going to happen.”

“I need it back,” Bernetta said, trying to sound forceful. “All of it. Today.”

“Just give it to her, Ashley,” Gabe said.

“Toenails!” Colin shouted. “Toenails toenails toenails toenails!”

Ashley ignored him and turned to Gabe. “So, dimwad,” she said, “you tell your new girlfriend how you set her up?” She smiled at Bernetta. “Bet you didn't know about that, did you, Bernetta? I bet you thought he actually
liked
you?”

Bernetta folded her arms over her chest. “How much you want to bet, Ashley? Five thousand dollars?”

“Tomato juice and cucumbers!” Colin chanted. “Tomato juice and cucumbers.”

Gabe shook his head. “She already knows, Ashley. I told her.”

“Tomato juice and cucumbers.”

Ashley calmly examined her fingernails. They were pale pink, no chips in the polish. “I'm not giving the money back,” she said. “It's mine. Gabe owed it to me. Why don't you take it up with him?”

“Tomato juice and cucumbers!”

“Can't the stupid kid say anything else?” Ashley hollered.

“I'm just playing I say, you say,” Colin said. “Bernetta and Hank taught it to me.”

Gabe grinned at him. “And you're really good at it too, buddy. But why don't you try one of the other words we told you?” He gave Colin a thumbs-up.

“Okay,” Colin said, drumming his fingers on the edge of the couch. He seemed to be thinking hard. “Um . . .”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “
Anyway
,” she said, “this has been fun and everything, but you might as well go home. There's no way I'm ever going to—”

Colin bolted upright in his seat. “Counterfixed money!” he screeched.

Bernetta sucked in a quick breath of air, and next to her, Gabe started coughing.

Ashley suddenly looked interested. “What did you say?” she asked Colin.

“Counterfixed money, counterfixed money, counterfixed money . . .”

“Colin,” Bernetta whispered. “Colorado River—that's enough.”

“Counterfixed money, counterfixed money . . .”

“Colin!”

Colin turned to her, eyes wide. “What, Bernie Bernie? I'm just playing the game like you said. I'm repeating the funny words you and Hank told me.”

Gabe coughed again. “We never said that word, Col.” He turned to Ashley. “He made that one up.”

“Nuh-uh,” Colin said. “You guys said ‘counterfixed money' about one million times today. I heard you.” Gabe squeezed his eyes shut tight. “Anyway,” Colin continued, “I don't even know what that means. Ashley, what does ‘counterfixed' mean?”

Bernetta pulled her brother onto her lap and smiled at Ashley. “Don't listen to him,” she said. “He doesn't know what he's talking about.”

Ashley looked from Colin to Gabe and at last settled her gaze on Bernetta. “Maybe not,” she said. “But I think
I
do. And I definitely want in.”

No matter how Bernetta and Gabe haggled, Ashley would not change her mind. She informed them pretty clearly that if they didn't let her in on the counterfeiting deal, she'd find a way to make both their lives utterly miserable. Worse, she'd foul up their plans. No Mount Olive money for Bernetta. Maybe even jail. They left her house with a new partner in their counterfeiting scam and absolutely zero money.

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