Chapter 1

I, Arietta, keeper of the dragon wing…

Mom was going to kill me. I tried to swallow past the dryness in my mouth. Her pendant lay tucked in my hand inside my sweatshirt pocket, and I was tucked safely in Anthony’s Mustang. My execution would happen only if she figured out it was missing.

The pendant looked like a half of a butterfly wing with a green gem crowded against where the thorax would be. I always had an affinity for the delicate creatures, and sometimes I pretended they were fairies when they landed on my sleeves and in my hair. Dad called me his odd daughter. It was easy to pretend the pendant might have come from some magical realm, given to my mother by the queen fairy herself.

I let the chain wrap around my fingers and ran my thumb over the center gem before counting the ones nestled into the scallops around the edge. One, two, three, four—each gem a different color.

The stones lay embedded in the strange metal like drops of hard candy. I glanced at my best friend, and Anthony smiled back at me. He’d better appreciate what I’d done to procure this treasure… for the sake of the story we were writing.

Anthony, Jayme, and I were somewhere in the fifteenth chapter of at least the one hundredth revision of Mystic’s Tale, the story we’d begun in elementary school. Our goal was to finish the story before graduation, which loomed less than two years away. We had plenty of time, but we were stuck on this particular chapter. What would happen next?

Anthony stopped his Mustang next to our favorite picnic tables in the center of Show Low City Park. He turned in his seat, facing Jayme. “Paper and pen?”

From the back seat, Jayme waved them at Anthony. Turning to me he asked, “Loretta, did you bring something magical?” I swallowed and withdrew it, letting it dangle from the chain. I hoped it met their approval. Each time we met, we brought props to add to our story, hence, the pendant.

Jayme snorted. “It looks cheap.” She flopped her hand over the back of the seat. “Lemme see it!”

I set it on her open palm. “Be super careful.”

She tested its weight, bobbing her hand up and down. “Where did you get it?”

“I borrowed it from my mom’s jewelry box.” I winced at the word “borrowed.” Dad always told us if we took something without asking, it was stealing; it didn’t matter the reason.

Jayme turned it over and examined the holographic inscription on the back. “This is Total Epic Awesomeness! It’s like those baseball cards where the player’s all 3D. Any idea what language this is?”

“No clue.” I reached over the seat and flipped the pendant over before placing it back in her hand. “See these symbols? They’re the same as the ones on the front—sort of.”

“How come the symbols are only along this edge?” Jayme asked turning it back over.

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Anthony took it from Jayme and examined both sides. “Where did your mom get it?”

“Don’t know. I only saw it yesterday morning. I didn’t even know she owned anything like this.”

Anthony shifted in his seat. “Does your mom know you took it?”

A little prick of guilt needled me. “I’ll put it back before she even knows it’s missing.” I hoped to return the pendant as easily as I’d managed to take it.

Anthony stroked the gem-stones. “They kind of look like those candies that come on ring pops or those plastic diamonds and rubies that toy companies glue onto kid crowns. Wouldn’t it be cool if it really was magical?”

He held it up to the light. “I wonder what kind of metal this is. It’s too pale to be gold and too much gold to be silver. “Are you sure you didn’t steal it from the pawn shop?”

I couldn’t believe he was still teasing me about that stupid prank. “No, I didn’t steal it from a pawn shop. And I didn’t steal that ring either. Corban let me borrow both of them. I thought we cleared that up.”

“Cleared up maybe, but we’re not even . . . yet.” He faced Jayme. “Wouldn’t you say?”

A mischievous grin crossed Jayme’s face. “We still have to figure out how to get even.” She winked Anthony but put her arm around me. “Just kidding.”

“I told you, I didn’t steal the ring, and I didn’t steal this necklace either,” I said before they could respond.

Anthony gave the pendant back to me. “It’ll make a great talisman for the summoning anyway.”

I tucked the pendant back inside my sweatshirt, and we stepped from the car.

The autumn chill sapped the warmth from the afternoon. Moist air hung like tiny needles waiting to stab through our clothes. I squinted into the fading afternoon sun, which barely showed its face through the breaking clouds. A month of nearly solid rain left the glowing orb pale and weak, a lightbulb ready to burn out.

Anthony opened the trunk and slid his camera bag over his shoulder. Leave it to him to like his dad’s outdated electronics. It would have been easier for either one of them to use their smart phones. It’s what I would have done if my parents could afford one.

Next, Anthony pulled out a staff, its grayish wood gnarled and weathered. A doorknob perched on the top. “What do you think?”

“Whoa!” Jayme ran her hand along the painted surface. “You make this?”

“My dad helped me with it. Check this out.” Anthony held it over his head, swung it around once, and a bright flash of light exploded from the glass doorknob.

Jayme squinted. “Let’s call it the staff of life.” She snorted again. “How’d you do that?”

“Wizards don’t reveal their sources of magic.” Anthony winked and then tapped the tapered end on the ground. Colored lights swirled around the knob. He tapped it again and the lights shut off.

Jayme nodded. “That is even cooler than Loretta’s junk jewelry.”

“Thanks a lot.” Although, even I had to admit that Anthony’s creation was pretty cool, maybe cooler than my piece of jewelry. Maybe.

I turned to Jayme. “What did you bring?”

One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “Since Loretta was wingin’ it, this goes perfect.” She pulled out a miniature fairy from her pocket. Its delicate wings shimmered. “I’m fairly sure this is pretty awesome.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Very punny.”

“Or this.” She held up an elf the same size as the fairy, except this one wasn’t of the Santa Clause variety. “Come here, Loretta, let’s take an elfie.” She chuckled and held up her phone, trying to balance all three. The fairy slipped from her fingers and landed on the cement pad, the wings flying apart from the body.

“Oh, Jayme, I’m so sorry.” I bent to help her pick up the pieces.

“Don’t worry about it.” She tucked the elf back in her pocket along with her phone and the fairy. Then holding up the broken wings to the light, she turned them so they glimmered. “I can still use these for the summoning.”

I reached up and touched her shoulder. “Maybe we can glue the wings back on.”

“Maybe.” She smiled again and her face lit up. “It’s not like it was super expensive or anything.”

Anthony unstrapped his bag. “Did you get it at the dollar store?”

“Naw, the pawnshop.” Jayme turned to me. “Does that ring a bell?”

“Oh, my gosh, Jayme… I told you I didn’t steal it.” Corban really had loaned me the puzzle ring after he showed me how it worked and neither of my friends could put it back together.

Anthony pulled the camera from the bag and set it on the tripod. “Forget about the ring. It wasn’t even worth pranking over. Now, get in your places.” He pressed PLAY and climbed on top of the picnic table. Then raising his hands over his head, he called out, “I, Althor, summon the tale of mystic powers from the lower rune pages, redeemed from the sea of fire.” Standing on the edge of the picnic table, he looked majestic in the cloak he’d taken from the costume closet at school. With his gorgeous golden blonde hair and blue eyes, he rivaled every prince from fairytales. The only thing keeping the girls at bay was how shy he was.

Jayme jumped onto another corner of the table. It wobbled and nearly bounced Anthony off. “Sorry.” Her face turned a shade of red. “I can’t help it if I’m big boned.”

Our court jester—that’s how I viewed her. Today she did little to dispel that illusion in her pointed lady-in waiting hat, sporting a multitude of stripes of different pastel colors. A dark tangle of brown curls protruded from underneath the edge. Her voice lifted in an aria an opera diva would sing before the words left her mouth, the melody enchanting. I wished I could sing like that. “I, Jaraya, summon the queen of the faeries. Bring forth your gifts so fair. Endless bounties and joys so rare.” She held up the broken wings and waved them as if being swayed by a gentle breeze.

I tried not to laugh at the ridiculous sight she made, but before I could stop myself, I coughed out a chuckle.

She broke character and glared down at me. “Don’t make me jump on you.”

I held my hands out to her as if that might actually protect me from her towering stature. “Ouch, no!” It wouldn’t be the first time she’d taken me out, so to speak.

Anthony pounded his staff on the edge of the table. “Okay, you two, let’s finish this scene today so we can figure out what comes next.” He pointed his staff at me. “It’s your turn.”

Dressed in my jeans, sweatshirt, and tennis shoes, I knelt before the royal court above and proffered my token. “I, Arietta, keeper of the dragon wings, summon the master mystic and his dragon. Itza Azella, O’antiqua.”

A gust of wind whipped up around me, swirled strands of my dishwater-blond hair around my face and shoved its icy fingers through my sweatshirt sending a shiver down my spine. I captured the strands of my hair and pulled the hood over my head.

“Cool words!” Anthony broke character for a moment. “We’ll have to be sure and include them in the story.”

An abnormally large raven swooped down onto one of the branches of a nearby pine tree and let out one single squawk. Its black eyes penetrated mine. Another shiver went down my back. I’d read enough stories to know that black birds meant evil or death. I pointed up at the creature. “We have got to use that in the story, too.” The bird puffed out its feathers, making it double in size and cawed again as if in agreement.

“Weird.” Jayme kept her eyes fixed on the creature. “You think it’s sick or something?”

“Who cares–it’s cool.” Anthony gave a thumbs-up. “Well, let’s get on with it.” He raised his hands. “Oh come to us great mystic. We summon you to aid us in our quest.” Then motioning to me he said, “Loretta, give me the Talisman.”

I climbed to the tabletop, all the while holding the pendant aloft. “Here, oh great king is the …” I paused trying to come up with the right words to call this magical accessory. Before I could think of anything, the raven swooped down out of the tree with a horrifying screech. It snatched the pendant from my hand and flew off down the hill toward the baseball field.

Not my mother’s necklace!

“What the heck…” Anthony jumped off the table, his cape fluttering behind him.

My stomach knotted and my hands went numb. Now she was going to kill me for reals. I took off running through the pine trees. Overhead the bird circled several times before landing on the top of the backstop.

Afraid to scare it off, I stopped at the concession stand. “What am I going to do?” I said when my two friends joined me. I peered back around the building. The raven shifted its weight from foot to foot, bobbed its head and blinked once at me.

Anthony came around the corner breathing heavily. He propped his staff against the wall and fastened the strap to his camera before he slung it over his shoulder. “Jayme, do you have any food on you? We can lure it down.”

Jayme reached in her pocket and fished out a half-eaten granola bar.

Anthony took it from her. “I’ll sneak over there and toss it on the ground. That bird will have to drop the pendant in order to eat.”

I held my breath hoping his plan would work. Anthony tip-toed around the concession stand, emerged behind the first base bleachers, and waited.

A guy in a white robe sat on the bottom bench with his fingertips pressed together. His jet-black hair floated around him, and his cloak billowed like he was floating underwater. It was freaky-weird for sure. His clothes looked like they were made of gossamer or spider webs, and even though the wind had completely stopped his clothes had that same billowiness to them. He turned his focus on the bird. The raven cawed again, dropping the pendant to the ground. It flew down to the ground and pecked at my mom’s piece of jewelry. I had to get it back before that stupid bird damaged it.

The guy stood and walked the short distance to the raven. Once he picked up my mother’s pendant, he returned to the bench and tucked it into a golden satchel sitting at his feet. The bag had the same shape and size as a duffle bag and shimmered like the sun bouncing off Fool Hollow Lake at sunset.

Anthony crept back to us. “Great, now what do we do?”

I pressed my fingers to my forehead. “My mom’s seriously gonna kill me.”

“Just don’t tell her.” Jayme patted my shoulder.

A lump the size of my fist clogged my chest. “You didn’t see her crying about it. It wasn’t like her. She’s usually yelling at somebody for something. Yesterday after school, she didn’t hear me come in. I guess she thought she was home all alone. After she fell asleep on the couch, I snuck into her room. I just wanted to get a better look. I never meant to take it out of her room, but when I saw the holographic writings on it…” I shrugged. “I just thought it would be cool.”

Anthony put his arm around my shoulder. “It’s probably something an old boyfriend gave her, and she was thinking of him.”

“No, it seems like something more. I don’t know, just the way she was holding it. I’ve never seen her cry like that.” I paused afraid to tell them what she said. “My mom whispered my story name.”

Jayme gasped. “Seriously? How would she know your story name?”

“I know; that’s what’s really weird because she doesn’t even know about our story. She just thinks we’re studying at the library.” I glanced at the bird again and back at Anthony.

“Maybe she was drunk, and her speech was slurred.” Anthony chuckled. “You probably just thought that’s what you heard.”

The only thing keeping me from shaking was Anthony’s firm hold around me. “I just have to get it back.”

“You guys. “Why don’t you walk over there and ask for it.”

Anthony released his hold on my shoulder and shrugged. “What if that bird is trained to steal stuff? You think he’s going to hand it over just ‘cuz you ask?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Jayme held up her cell phone. “I’ll call the police in case he decides not to cooperate or gets violent or something.

Anthony took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “C’mon, we’ll get it back.”

“This better work.” I turned to see if Jayme was watching us, but she had hidden herself behind the block building.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pour on the Fenmore charm, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll offer a reward.”

“How much do you have on you this time?” I asked.

Anthony released my hand, pulled out his wallet and fingered several twenty-dollar bills. “Enough, I’m sure.” I kind of missed the security of his hand. He’d always had that calming effect on me.

I reached in my jeans pocket and withdrew my lunch money—three whole dollars. “Here, this might help.”

Anthony lowered my hand. “You’ll need that for tomorrow.”

My jaw clenched almost as hard as my fist around the dollar bills. This was my responsibility. While I appreciated everything he did for me, he shouldn’t have to keep bailing me out because his dad gave him a hefty allowance. “I’ll pack a lunch tomorrow.”

“A couple of dollars won’t make much of a difference.” He was right.

“Okay, but you have to let me do something for you, alright?”

“I’ll hold you to it.” He held up his pinky.

I locked mine with his.

Once we reached the end of the bleachers, I cleared my throat and the man looked up at me. “Um, excuse me… but your bird, I mean… that is your bird, right? He… um… took my pendant that you put in your bag.” Why did I sound like such an idiot? I should have let Anthony do the talking. I plowed ahead anyway. “It belongs to my mother, it’s not expensive or anything, it’s just, well, kind of sentimental to her.” I didn’t want him thinking it was worth anything, at least not as much as Anthony was willing to offer.

The guy twisted to face me. His eyes were an odd shade of green, almost a golden green with flecks of silver. They were the strangest contacts I’d ever seen. I guess I expected him to be older, but the smoothness of his skin and the youthful glow of his cheeks and lips confused me. He looked like he couldn’t be much older than me. Maybe eighteen or nineteen?

He lifted his closed fist toward us then one by one opened his fingers until it looked like he was holding an imaginary tennis ball. He blew on it as if shooting energy at us, then tapped me on the shoulder and reached around me to touch Anthony’s hand.

Weirdo, I thought.

“You are Arietta.” His rich base voice surprised me—especially coming from someone so young looking.

“Loretta,” I corrected.

“That is what you are called here. But your real name is Arietta.”

How did he know about my story name? “No, it’s Loretta.” Why was I even giving this stranger my real name anyway? He must have overheard me speak the name of the character from our story. “You have something that belongs to me . . . well, to my mother. May I have it back please?”

“What will you give me in return?”

“We can offer you a reward.” I gave Anthony a nudge in his ribs. He didn’t move, like he was in a trance. “Anthony?” My friend stared blankly at me as if he wasn’t really seeing me. My insides turned upside down. Why wasn’t Anthony responding to me? I turned back to the man. “What did you do to my friend?”

He ignored me. “You may have what’s inside.” He reached for the golden bag, but instead of grasping the handle, he held his hand above it. It levitated to within an inch or so of his palm. There had to be strings attached between him and the bag. Squinting, I tried to figure out his magic trick.

On the side of the bag, symbols danced off it like the holograms on my mom’s pendant. I tried to step back, but Anthony’s still form blocked my way. A knot formed in my gut, and I had to rub the sweat from my palms. This is just a magic trick, I kept telling myself.

The fabric on the bag became translucent and a pulsing purple orb glowed within and whirled like a top. It called to me, but I couldn’t make out any words, only impressions like the rapid flashes of television commercials. Pictures of green ferns, plants and misty forests passed through my mind. Flitting in and out of these images, others arose too unbelievable to describe. Winged creatures, the size and speed of dragonflies or hummingbirds, danced in and out of shadows, only they looked human, not animal.

I stepped on Anthony’s foot when I moved back. Still, my friend didn’t budge. What was the matter with him? What had that man done to him. “I… uh… only want my pendant back.” Weakly, I added, “Please?” Jayme better be on the phone with the police.

The guy smiled at me showing a row of perfect teeth.

This time I gave Anthony a hard poke to his ribs with my elbow. “Anthony?” The color had drained from my friend’s face, and he stood like a stone statue. What was the matter with my best friend? I shook his shoulder. “Anthony!” I screamed.

The wail of a siren in the distance came down the road. Good, Jayme had called the police. “You’re not going to get away with this.” The louder the blare of the police car, the bolder I felt. “Give me back my pendant, or the police will arrest you for theft.”

“I will in time.” He waved his hand again, the bag drifted back to the earth with a soft thud. Behind me Anthony gave a raspy intake of air as if he’d been holding it the whole time. I clutched his arm to keep him from falling over when he collapsed against me.

I turned back to where the guy had sat. “Now, give it back to me,” I said to the empty place in front of me.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

My Name

The raven flapped off across the field, cawing once and disappeared over the rooftop of a house across the street. An odd aroma lingered in the air like moss and wet pine needles mingled with a mixture of sweet floral fragrances, honeysuckle perhaps. Something tugged at a memory darting around the edges of my mind.

As the police car sped passed the park, the sound of the sirens faded into the distance. I thought they were coming here. Anthony breathed hard behind me as he held his side. “Geez, Loretta, next time slow down a bit.” He clutched the staff in his hand. How had he gotten that? He’d left it at the concession stand with Jayme. I knew he had.

Jayme sprinted up next to Anthony, huffing. She doubled over trying to catch her breath. “Man, you should have joined track. How do you expect me to keep up with you two?”

What was she talking about? “Did you see it?”

“Yeah. Stupid bird.” Anthony massaged his side.

“Not the bird, the bag—it floated in the air, and there was something weird inside along with my mom’s pendant.”

“What pendant?” Jayme asked.

I pressed my hand to my forehead. Whoever the guy was, he’d done something to my friends . . . or—wait a minute. Was this how they were pranking me back for the puzzle ring? “Yeah, real funny guys!”

“What?” Anthony asked.

“You saw the man, the bag, my mom’s pendant . . . tell me you saw it.”

Jayme pulled her stupid hat off and ran her hand through her short hair. “Saw what?”

“Loretta, are you okay?” Anthony asked between gasps of air.

“Noooo!” The sharp edge to my voice made him raise one eyebrow. “You saw him, right? The guy on the bleachers? I think he’s some kind a hypnotist, or magician or something. He touched Anthony and put him in a trance.”

Jayme’s eyebrows came together. “What guy on the bleachers?”

“Oh, come on, guys, this isn’t funny. The bird took my pendant—we chased it here.”

Again, both of them met me with blank expressions. Anthony shifted his staff and straightened his camera, banging it against the bench. “Loretta, if you’re going to make things up for the story, at least make them a little more believable.”

“I’m not lying.” I pointed to the camera. “We recorded it. Look.”

Anthony pushed the rewind button until it got to the beginning of today’s segment. When it was my turn to summon, a loud caw sounded in the background. The bird flew briefly into the shot. I bolted off the screen. Next came the movements of Anthony unfastening the camera from its tripod. The strap slipped in and out of view before the bouncing motion of the recording came to a stop at the bleachers. No guy in white—no bird or pendant.

I tugged at the bottom of my sweatshirt trying to block out the deepening chill. “Play it again.”

We watched the same clip, but none of the events which had actually transpired were on the camera.

Anthony shut the camera off. “Why did you chase the bird? That was really weird.”

“It took my pendant.”

Jayme thrust her chin forward and looked down at me. “What pendant?”

I gazed at her in disbelief. “You were supposed to call the police—why didn’t you?”

“Why would I call the police?” she asked.

“Because that’s what you said you’d do.” I couldn’t believe they were questioning me like this. “That guy must have trained his bird to steal stuff . . . it stole my pendant.”

Jayme put her hand on my shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“Okay, you guys, that was pretty good. This is your best prank ever.” I expected them to laugh and then give me a hug and tell me how they’d planned the whole thing. They didn’t. They just stood there, staring at me like I’d grown an extra eyeball in the middle of my head.

Thunder crackled overhead and a few drops landed around us. Anthony pulled the collar around his neck and stuffed his camera back into its case. “So much for story writing today.”

I watched my two best friends turn their backs on me and head toward Anthony’s car. I followed them as far as the picnic table under the awning. Another crack of thunder split the air. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and a tear slipped down my cheek before disappearing into my sweatshirt.

“You coming?” Anthony called back to me.

Glad it was now raining, I could wipe the rest of the tears without them thinking I was actually crying. How was I going to get my mother’s pendant back? Hopefully Anthony would explain everything on the ride home.

I covered the short distance between us and trudged beside them… waiting. Neither of them said a word. After holding the seat for Jayme, I slipped into the front seat. She didn’t say anything. This had to be some kind of stupid prank. What else could it be? The more I thought about it, the more confused and betrayed I felt. Sure, we’d had fun doing dumb stuff to make each other laugh, but this felt different and not at all like them.

Then another more horrifying thought struck me. What if this wasn’t a prank? What if the things I’d seen were real? I shook my head. No, things like that didn’t happen in real life.

We reached the turnoff to my house a block from the movie theater. “You can pull over here.”

“I can take you to the door.” Anthony pulled to the side of the road at the end of the dirt lane leading to my house.

“My mom is already gonna pitch a fit—don’t make it worse.” The worn path up to my house already had rivulets filling the deep ruts made by my dad’s truck. My canvas sneakers would be covered in mud before I got more than a few yards, but I didn’t care.

Anthony didn’t stop the car. “Let me at least get a little closer.”

“I can walk from here.” I jammed my hands deeper into my pockets.

“In that?” Jayme asked as a torrent of water rushed down the hill to meet us. Even though the rain had stopped, water continued to spill down the sloping lane, like a muddy river.

“I’ve walked home in worse. Besides, my mom doesn’t like . . .” I started to say “you”, but, hey, that opened up another bunch of problems I had no intention of addressing tonight. I needed time to think about how I was going to get them to admit their prank.

While I was busy gathering up my backpack, Anthony got out of the car and came around to my side and opened the door. When I stepped into the mud, my foot slid and he grabbed my upper arm, steadying me. “Do you want me to walk you to the door?” He kept his hand around my arm.

“No, I’m fine.” I slung my backpack over one shoulder and trudged away from the car. The car door slammed, and Anthony reversed his way down the hill. I turned back to watch the headlights disappear.

Tomorrow they were going to admit to the whole prank, or I swear, I wouldn’t help them finish writing Mystic’s Tale until they did.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3

Realms of Normalcy

The quarter mile walk up the muddy road gave me time to cool off. The gushing streams had turned to trickles, but the mud lay thick along the sides, so I stuck to the middle where the hump seldom saw the wheels of any vehicles. By the time I reached the yard, my white sneakers were brown, and my socks were splattered with muddy polka-dots.

In the cloudy darkness, the porch light with its vague invitation cast a faint glow across the yard and into the empty lot across the way. It barely reached the giant oak standing as a sentinel. I reached the front door of our mobile home. For a long moment, I stared at the broken hinge and peeling wood. My mother waited on the other side, and she’d certainly have choice words for me. It didn’t matter what time I came home; it was never soon enough. It was a good thing she thought Anthony, Jayme and I were studying.

How could I explain about the missing pendant? Maybe I could blame it on one of my siblings. I winced at the thought. It would be bad for them to suffer Mom’s wrath.

A strange sensation began at the base of my neck and drove its way up through my scalp and down my spine to my toes. I glanced back across the road and saw the guy in white robes standing beneath the shadowy branches. He held the glowing bag.

The neighbor’s cat hissed and darted across our dilapidated porch. I jumped. My backpack landed with a thunk on the rotting wood. “Stupid cat,” I said and looked back across the dirt path. Nothing, not a trace of anyone sinister, evil or otherwise creepy revealed himself. I stared into the shadows, rubbing my eyes. He was good, that was for sure. I vowed not to let myself get all creeped out over it.

For less than a minute more, I gazed at the empty spot across the road before I twisted the handle and entered my home, a double-wide trailer. Mom preferred we call it a mobile home. Either way, it was a rotting derelict that covered our heads.

“Rett!” my mother hollered the minute she spotted me. All thoughts of today’s weirdness left. Entering my home meant arriving into a new realm—the land of my mother.

She didn’t look up from the television as she flipped through the channels. “Just what do you think you’re doing dragging your sorry hind-side in here this late at night?”

Late? The sun hadn’t even gone down, and there were still lots of pink in the sky. “I was with my friends studying at the library. Where are the girls?”

“Where they always are.” The neighbors. At least they weren’t getting yelled at there, and they probably got something decent to eat.

Mom’s empty beer bottle sat propped between her slipper-clad feet, and her bathrobe lay open exposing her tattered pink nightgown. I knew my mother hadn’t gotten ready for bed but had spent the entire day dressed in her pajamas. The robe had probably only been added because someone had shown up at the door. “It ain’t decent for a woman to answer the door in her jammies.” If only my mother cross stitched like Jayme’s mother, she could put that on a pillow and sell it at the local craft fair.

“Well?” she asked again, this time turning up the volume to drown out my baby brother’s whimpers.

“I always go to the library on Thursdays,” I answered.

J.W. sat in the middle of the floor, fussing as he poked what looked like Cheerios into his mouth. I scooped him up and set him on my hip. My two-year-old brother smelled of soiled clothes and a wet diaper. Junior Wallace, that’s what my family all called him. How could my parents not understand that a name is something you’re stuck with? Take my name, for instance. Loretta is something you call your batty old aunt. What made it worse was the fact that Mom shortened it to Rett. I suppose that was a result of my not being able to pronounce my name as a small child, or she did that after not being able to produce a son after two daughters.

I was supposed to have been the long-awaited boy. Two more girls after me arrived before J.W. made his grand entrance into the Tanner family almost six years later. Geez, you should have seen Dad the day he found out Mom was pregnant. He said if he saw one more girl pop out, he was going to make the doctor go back and look for parts that might have broken off during the delivery.

“Rett, you’re in front of the television.” Mom motioned for me to move. She went back to clicking the remote. “Get him some milk.”

I shifted J.W. to my other hip and took him into the kitchen. “Let’s see Little Man,” I said as I rummaged through the fridge and found two nearly empty cartons of milk. I drained them both into a cup. J.W. reached for it, but before he could get his hands on it, I drank a huge gulp. My little brother is the light of my life, but there are some things I won’t do, and drinking backwash is one of them. I snapped the lid onto the cup.

While he chugged at his Sippy-cup, I glanced out the window toward the lot across the road. The dim porch light cast gloomy shadows around the trees. I thought I saw a movement.

For several moments I stood watching, expecting to see something, at the same time hoping I didn’t. I needed to talk to Anthony and Jayme.

J.W. hit me upside the head with his Sippy-cup. “Horsy,” he said once he’d gained my attention.

“No horsy tonight.”

“Horsy,” he cried and bent backward, arching his back so that I nearly dropped him.

I struggled to get him upright and handed him a cracker from an open box on the counter. That would take his mind off our favorite activity. I often took him across the highway to the meadow where horses grazed next to a stream. Its gentle summer flow was perfect for wading. “Tomorrow.”

J.W. gobbled down his graham cracker. “More cookie,” he demanded.

I handed him another cracker, and carried him to the back of the trailer where my sister, Nella, and I shared a room with J.W. His crib was pushed into one corner, and a double bed into the other. J.W.’s clothes were in the changing table at the end of his crib. The stuffed closet held both the dresser and clothes my sister and I shared. I didn’t know what would happen to my wardrobe once she graduated at the end of this year.

I changed J.W. diaper and set him on the bed, then rummaged through the closet looking for the pink designer shirt and blue jeans. Nella wore them last week, so I figured it was my turn to take possession of our thrift store treasures.

“Rett,” Mom called from the front room.

I ignored her, because I knew what she wanted, and I never came at her first call, anyway. I didn’t come at the second one either.

“Rett.” Her voice carried easily through the thin walls.

I kept rummaging through the closet. I pulled the shirt from the bottom of the pile of dirty clothes along with the jeans. I would have to do laundry before bed if I wanted to wear them tomorrow.

“Rett!”

“Coming,” I yelled back. That would stall her for a few minutes. However, if I wanted to wear the outfit, I would have to pass through the living room and kitchen on my way to the laundry room, and that’s when Mom would trap me.

I picked up the empty cup J.W. had thrown on the floor and tucked the dirty clothes under my arm. My timing had to be perfect. They had to finish drying before I left to go clean the theater at midnight. Maybe I should find something else to wear. Besides I was tired. I could use a couple of hours of sleep before I had to work. Mr. McNeil always expected me around 12:00 AM, shortly after the last show.

J.W. yawned. I knew that if he fell asleep before I got him bathed, he would wear the same smelly clothes the next day. “Hey, buddy.” I dropped my clothes back in the laundry basket. “Let’s get you a bath before bed. You’ll sleep so much better.”

As I ran the water in the bathroom at the end of the hall, my mother called again. “Rett!”

“I’m bathing Jr. Wallace,” I shouted back at her and stripped his clothes off as quickly as I could and put him in the tub. He giggled with delight trying to catch the running water.

The front door slammed. I couldn’t hear the conversation between my older sister and Mom. Nella didn’t usually get home from her job at Domino’s Pizza this early. I wished that I could be as open about my job, but if Mom knew, I’d end up loaning her money, and she would never pay it back. I don’t know how Nella managed to hide her cash and then lie to Mom about not having any.

I was just glad I had a sister who covered for me when I sneaked out to go clean the theater. On Saturdays, I woke up extra early to go to work. I told my parents I like to go jogging. It was kind of the truth—I mean, I jogged all the way to the theater. Mr. McNeil agreed to keep my job a secret as long as I fulfilled my responsibilities.

I lathered the washcloth and ran it over J.W.’s little body. Nella stuck her head through the doorway. “Hey.”

“How was work?” I asked.

Dangling an envelope full of cash in front of my face, she said, “Got paid tonight. Don’t tell.”

I chuckled. “Going to the theater tonight. Don’t tell.” We laughed and then put our hands over our mouths.

“Don’t tell.” J.W. giggled and put his hand over his mouth.

“We better be careful when he gets old enough to talk,” Nella said.

As I ran the washcloth under his neck, he giggled again. “What did Mom want?”

“Another beer,” Nella answered.

“As if I didn’t know.” I rolled my eyes. “Did you get it for her?”

Nella leaned against the counter. “Duh. She’d still be hollering for you if I’d hadn’t.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Nella left the bathroom, and I heard her in the bedroom shuffling through the dresser. I knew she was hiding her cash behind the drawer in an envelope she’d taped to the back side.

“Okay, J.W.,” I said, “bath time is over.” I pulled the plug from the tub and he waved to the water as it swirled down the drain. With a fresh towel wrapped around his chubby little body I carried him to our room and put a fresh diaper on him.

Nella was sorting laundry in the middle of the floor, making neat piles. She had put the jeans in one pile and the pink shirt in another. I plopped J.W. onto the bed and pointed to the shirt and jeans. “It’s my turn to wear them.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll wash ‘em with my clothes if you want.”

I wrapped my arms around her. “Nella, you’re the best.” Then I backed up. “All right, what do you want?”

She leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Cover for me.”

“Again?” I drew my eyebrows together.

“I’ll leave after you come back from the theater.”

“I hope he’s worth it.” I wondered how she was going to graduate. Maybe we could be seniors together.