When we finish eating, I help Robby pack for his sleepover at Kevin’s. I hold up one of his new polos. “Do you want to wear this tomorrow?”
“I don’t care,” he tells me. “Any old shirt is fine.”
I look up, see he’s busy taking money out of his piggy bank.
“Why are you robbing Porky?” I ask. “Daddy will give you money for the movies.”
Robby shrugs. “I may need a little more. For things.”
“Okay,” I say, trying not to pry. Robby never spends one cent of his savings if he can help it.
Daddy drives Robby over to Kevin’s house. I make my bed, then wash the breakfast dishes. I’m straightening up Robby’s room when Daddy returns.
“Leave that, Vannie. Let’s go check out the show!”
We walk across to the Big Lawn where the crafts people are setting up their booths. Most of them stop to wave or call out “good morning.”
“Anyone need anything?” Daddy asks.
One fellow, who’s unpacking beautiful wooden bowls and vases, waves us over. “Roger, any way you can get me a hammer and some nails? The leg on this display table’s coming loose.”
“Sure thing, Fred.” Daddy tells me to go and get them from Casey. “He’s probably in The Shed. Or one of his men will be there to help you.”
I’m off, walking slower than I should because I must see every piece of jewelry, pottery and woven clothing I pass. I find Casey and his men drinking coffee in the large barn everyone calls The Shed. I ask Casey for a hammer and nails. He sighs as he gets up and rinses his mug in the sink.
“I’ll bring ’em myself, Vannie, and see if anyone needs a hand. Your father is the best director around, but I know for a fact he can’t drive a nail straight in a board.”
That sets his men roaring with laughter. Good-natured laughter, I notice, and I giggle too, because it’s true.
When I get back to Daddy, he’s going from booth to booth like the host of a party making sure everyone’s having a good time. He puts his arm around me and introduces me to a few of the crafts people. Mayda comes by and Daddy introduces her, too.
I put my arm around Daddy’s waist and squeeze him close.
“Having fun, Vannie?” he asks softly, so only I can hear.
“Yup.”
Right now I enjoy being my father’s daughter. I feel cherished. Normal. Like walking arm-in-arm through the craft fair is something we do every day.
Suddenly it’s ten o’clock. Time for me to hand out flyers at the front gate. I get the biggest shock of the morning when Daddy says, “Let’s go, Vannie. I’ll walk you over.”
There’s a long line of cars snaking around the main road, waiting their turn to pay. “Take good care of my daughter,” he calls out to Frances.
Frances laughs. “Sure, Roger. I wouldn’t do anything but.”
Daddy gives me some bills and tells me not to forget to stop for lunch. Then he jogs back to the craft show like a kid going to the circus.
I watch Daddy leave and wonder why he can’t be fun like this all the time. Or at least most of the time, when he’s home with Robby and me.
The morning passes quickly. It’s fun handing out flyers, especially to people I know.
“Hey, Vannie,” my classmate Jimmy Breslow calls out the window of his parents’ car. “How come you’re working here?”
“My father’s the director of Merrymount Gardens,” I tell him, real casual.
“Wow! I didn’t know,” Jimmy says all agog, as if Daddy’s a famous basketball star.
I hold in my giggles till their car drives through, then I laugh and laugh till I hiccup.
By twelve o’clock I’m starving. Frances tells me to go and eat lunch, and to take a look around the show. I pass Aunt Mayda on her way to the parking lot.
“Don’t forget our Wednesday shopping date,” she reminds me.
“And you don’t forget you’re having dinner with us. Six o’clock okay?”
Aunt Mayda smiles. “Six is perfect, but I’ll call if I’m running late.”
They’re serving food inside the Old Carriage House on the other side of the Great Lawn. I order a sandwich and a glass of cider. When I take out my money to pay, the woman squints at me.
“Aren’t you Roger’s daughter?”
“Uh-huh. Vanessa.”
She smiles. “Keep your money and buy yourself something nice with it.”
“Thanks,” I say, suddenly shy. I wonder how she knows who I am.
I find an empty table and eat my lunch. Then I stop at the ladies’ room. It’s crowded, and I have to wait on line.
“Great show this year,” one woman says to another. They have the same straw blonde hair and ski noses, so I figure they’re sisters.
The other woman laughs and holds up the plastic bags in her hand. “How true. I sure spent enough.”
The craft fair is mobbed with people. I have to work my way to the front of each booth to see what they’re selling.
“Hey, Vannie, how’s it going?” Daddy calls to me.
“Great, Dad. I just had lunch.”
“Big crowd, isn’t it?” Daddy says, pleased with himself.
“Have you eaten?” I ask.
“I’ll get something. You can stop handing out flyers at four.”
“Okay. See you later.”
The front gate is so busy, they’ve opened up another register to move the long stream of cars along. I had no idea the craft fair at MG was so popular.
It’s all Daddy’s doing, I think, as I dash from one line of cars to the other, handing out flyers. I’ve seen him working, heard him on the telephone, listened to him complain. But for the first time, I’m seeing the results.
Daddy’s really good at what he does, I realize. This morning Casey said that he’s the best director. And Casey ought to know.
By three o’clock I’m all out of flyers. Frances tells me to get more of them at the office in the Old Carriage House. Off I go. I decide to walk along the road because it’s less crowded, since it’s off limits to people coming to the fair. Suddenly a car comes speeding toward me. I stop. When it honks, I jump to the side, into one of the rhododendron bushes almost three times my height. The car screeches to a halt. Then I notice it’s our car. Daddy’s behind the wheel.
“Robby’s gone!” he shouts. “Carolyn called. I’m going to look for him.”
“I’m coming with you.” I run to the passenger’s door.
“Stay here, Vannie,” Daddy says, but I ignore him and get in the car.
Daddy revs the motor. We go about a hundred feet, then we have to slow down and follow behind two cars ahead of us taking their sweet time as they leave MG.
Daddy looks awful. That worried, haggard look is back. His fist pounds the steering wheel.
“I knew it! I knew today was going too well and something bad would happen to screw it up for me.”
*
Kevin’s mom, Carolyn, is waiting for us outside their house. Kevin is skulking by the garage. He has this just-been-scolded look. His head is down, but tilted toward us so he won’t miss a single word we say.
“I’m so sorry, Roger,” Carolyn tells Daddy. “Everything seemed perfectly fine. The boys wanted to play soccer in the school yard with some of their classmates so I crossed them over.”
“What time was this?” Daddy asks through clenched teeth. I know he’s struggling to hold on to his temper and his nerves.
“About two-thirty, I suppose. Kevin came in half an hour later for something to drink. I asked him where Robby was. He said he didn’t know. They had a fight and Robby walked off.”
We all look at Kevin, who’s inched closer to us.
“Kevin, what did I tell you?” Carolyn demands. “I told you and Robby to stay together, and you both promised me you would.”
Kevin’s upset. He runs to the front door. I chase after him and grab hold of his jacket so he can’t go inside.
“Where’s Robby?” I ask.
“I don’t know!” Kevin shouts in my ear. “I don’t know anything about it!”
This isn’t like Kevin. He and Robby can’t stay mad at each other for more than five minutes. Then I know. I shake Kevin’s arm.
“Did Robby go back to our house?”
Kevin stares down at the floor.
“Did he go for Theodore?”
Kevin breaks free, but I catch hold of him again.
“Let me go!” he screams. “Mrs. Peterson said she’d call the police if we went there again.”
“And Robby made you promise not to tell,” I finish softly.
I release his arm and Kevin is through the door like a shot.
“I’m so sorry, Roger,” Carolyn says for about the tenth time. “I know you told Robby not to go there, so I figured that was the end of it.”
Daddy thanks Carolyn. We get into the car.
“Please let me know when you find him.” Carolyn’s words follow us as we speed down the street and into our driveway.
But Robby isn’t at our house, either. “No, we haven’t seen him,” Mrs. Peterson tells us from our hall while we stand outside. “But then we’ve all been out until a few minutes ago.”
Daddy is as uncomfortable as I’ve ever seen him. “I hate to disturb you, but do you mind if Vannie and I take a look around the back yard?”
“Of course not,” Mrs. Peterson says formally. “I do hope you resolve this problem very soon.”
I stomp around to the back, crunching leaves as I go. “I do hope you resolve this problem very soon,” I mimic.
“Stop it!” Daddy hisses at me. “She has every right to be annoyed.”
“She should care that Robby is missing! He’s only seven. Something terrible could have happened.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, Vannie. We’ll find Robby, and very soon.”
“We’d better, before it gets dark.”
We drive up and down the streets of our neighborhood. We stop everyone we pass, but no one’s seen Robby.
“I bet he’s come for Theodore,” I tell Daddy.
“That’s obvious!” Daddy is furious. “Causing all this trouble over a stray cat.”
“I mean, I bet he’s come to get Theodore. To bring him back to MG.” I suddenly remember Robby opening his piggy bank. “Oh! He needed money for a taxi.”
“Vanessa, what are you rambling on about?”
I pull out my cell phone and ask Daddy for the telephone number at the front gate. Frances answers, but there’s been no sign of Robby.
CHAPTER TEN
The sun is lowering in the sky. I shudder. Soon it will be evening. My brother, wherever he is, will be terrified. Daddy must be thinking this too, because he breathes heavily, like he’s just run a race. He’s hyperventilating. I’m scared, but I’m also annoyed. In his own way, Daddy’s as much trouble as Robby.
“Well, Vannie, any suggestions?” Daddy’s tone is sarcastic, but I know he’s asking for my help.
“Yes,” I tell him. “Drive back to MG. Real slow.”
My eyes are two lasers scanning both sides of the road. “Where are you, Robby?” I mumble over and over again till Daddy tells me to shut up. We pass the developments, then the supermarket and the strip of stores. Now the houses are barely visible for the trees and dense shrubbery growing to the edge of the road.
I’m losing all hope, when I catch sight of something white moving through a thicket of pine trees. “Stop!”
Daddy skids to a halt. “What? What is it?”
“Look! About ten feet ahead of us! There’s someone moving toward the road.”
We stare as the white blur turns into a person. A small person. It’s Robby. He stops at the edge of the road and looks around to check for traffic. He’s holding a gray-striped half-grown cat in his arms.
I jump out of the car and run toward my little brother. I gasp at the bloodied scratches on his face and his hands. But Robby isn’t the least bit upset. His face is glowing with joy.
“Vannie!” he says. “I knew you’d find us!”
“Robby, you had us so worried. Daddy’s having a fit. He had to leave the craft show. Kevin’s mother’s all upset. Don’t you ever think?”
I screech the last word, but Robby doesn’t notice.
“Theodore’s hurt,” he says as we walk toward the car. “He must have been in a cat fight, because he’s all bitten and scratched.”
“Like you,” I say sarcastically.
“I was counting on Kevin to help me find Theodore and call a taxi. But Kevin turned wimpy, so I had to get him all by myself. Then he kept trying to run away. He did, a minute ago, but I caught him!”
I hustle Robby and Theodore into the back seat of the car. I’m afraid Daddy will tell Robby to put the cat down, but he doesn’t say a word. I’m afraid Theodore will do something awful, but he stays quietly in Robby’s arms.
When we get to the cottage, Daddy says, “Leave that mangy cat outside.”
“I can’t, Daddy. He’ll run away.”
Daddy lets out a deep sigh. “Vannie, put that animal in the shed.”
I take Theodore from Robby. His small heart is racing, and I realize he’s terrified. Now that I’m holding him, I see the bite marks and scratches on his ears and shoulder, the ooze seeping from his half-closed eye.
“Vannie, give him something to eat,” Robby calls over his shoulder as Daddy leads him into the cottage.
In the shed, I find a few empty burlap bags. I pile one on top of another with one hand, then set Theodore carefully down. “Be right back,” I tell him, and close the door behind me.