“He always gets caught,” Zoey replies. She puts her ear to Dennis’s door just to be on the safe side and then pushes it open. As usual, it smells like incense and old socks. She wades through the magazines and dirty clothes and kneels by the bed.
Megan hesitates at the door. A poster of a girl in a bikini is stuck on the ceiling over the bed.
“How come your mother lets him keep that there?” Megan asks. “Oh, she doesn’t come in here. The smell gives her a headache.” Zoey reaches under the bed with both arms and sweeps out whatever is within reach. Megan is curious now and carefully steps over to the bed. On the floor are two
Playboy
s, a pack of Marlboro Lights, and two bottles of blackberry brandy.
“I know it’s here somewhere,” Zoey says, reaching under again. This time she pulls out a pair of striped boxer shorts, the book they are looking for, and a locked diary.
“That’s weird,” Zoey says. “I got this diary when I was in fifth grade. I thought I’d lost it when we moved.”
Megan takes it from her and tries to open it. The lock holds tight. “So Dennis stole your diary? What a jerk.”
Zoey shakes her head. “No, I never wrote in it. He must be using it.” “We better just take the book, grab Fang’s tin, and get back to Katy’s,” Megan says. The smell in the room is starting to overwhelm her. She picks up the
Kama Sutra
and at the last second scoops up the cigarettes too. They could come in handy tonight.
Zoey pushes everything else back under the bed, including the diary. She knows she could pick the lock if she wanted to, but she’s not really that interested in knowing her brother’s innermost thoughts. If she had read it, she would have learned that Dennis likes doing the community service more than he likes doing the crime that leads him there. She would have learned that he also likes ancient Roman pottery, puppies but not dogs, and girls with long legs. That he wonders if he has an excessive amount of hair on his knuckles and toes, and that he fears there is no afterlife. But she doesn’t pick the lock, she never reads it, and so she will think the bloody razor she finds in the shower is a suicide attempt instead of Dennis’s attempt to shave his hairy knuckles. After she tells their parents, Dennis will wind up in therapy because he is too embarrassed to tell his family the truth. At the suggestion of his therapist, he’ll begin writing poetry. One of his poems will win a fifty-dollar prize from
Writes of Passage,
a literary magazine for teenagers.
While Josie is checking out the dashboard of Katy’s mother’s minivan, Katy straps herself into the passenger seat. She then lets her right arm fall to the side of her seat and reaches behind her. Her hand opens to reveal two chewable motion-sickness pills. Zoey silently takes one and passes the other to Megan. As much as they all love Josie, it never hurts to take precautions.
Brenda Mae Brown from Atlanta has been a cashier at Donald’s Hot Dog Hut since it opened twelve years ago. Over the last hour six groups of kids have asked her for a menu. Only three of the groups figured out they could write it out themselves. She wonders if she should’ve told those boys that the red markers they used on their stomachs were permanent ink.
Sloane and her mother are enjoying the Haunted Mansion ride as their car turns a corner on the tracks and faces a long mirror on the darkened wall. Sloane waves at herself in the mirror and then watches with curiosity as a ghostly female figure with a huge grin appears in their car. At first she’s scared and starts to reach out for her mother. Then she distinctly hears her grandmother’s voice say, “Don’t worry, Sloane, I’m here. We’ll go home after the ride.” What she really heard was the woman in the car in front, trying to get her five-year-old kid to stop crying. “Don’t worry, son, I’m here. We’ll go home after the ride.” Now Sloane is waiting patiently for the Haunted Mansion ride to end. When the metal bar across her lap springs open, she and her mother carefully step onto the moving walkway. Her mother takes her hand and leads her outside.
“Wait, Mommy,” Sloane says, pulling back. “We should wait here for Nana.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nana said she’d be coming home with us,” Sloane explains. “But I don’t see her.”
Her mother squats down and puts her hands on Sloane’s shoulders. “Honey, Nana is in heaven now. You know that.”
“But I just heard her. She was that ghost that got in the car with us!” Her mother shakes her head. “No, baby. That was just part of the ride.”
Sloane twists out of her mom’s grasp. “No, I heard her!” She bursts into tears and starts running blindly through the park. Her mother runs after her but loses her in the line of people waiting to get on the Peter Pan ride.
Through the walkie-talkie on Mr. Taylor’s belt, he is alerted that there’s a situation in his vicinity. Still a trainee, his job is to wander between Fantasyland and Liberty Square, keeping his eyes open for trouble. Eventually he’ll be stationed at City Hall in the main Guest Relations office. Apparently a crying girl has been sighted running through Liberty Square toward Fantasyland. The girl runs past Mr. Taylor and through Cinderella Castle. He runs after her and radios in his coordinates. When the two of them reach the top of Main Street, she pulls ahead, and his blood freezes. Standing in front of him are Josie and her friends.
“So, Mr. Taylor,” Josie’s friend Megan says as they all wait for Josie to return from the bathroom. “You, um, work here now?”
He nods. Leave it to Megan to be bold enough to ask. “I just started,” he explains. The three of them wait expectantly for him to say more. He sighs and explains that he never loved his job as an accountant, that Josie’s turning sixteen made him remember his childhood dream. Saying these words is good practice for when he will repeat them to his family. “Do you girls know what you want to be when you grow up?”
“An actress,” Megan says right away, then adds, “An actress who sings. No, a singer who acts!”
“I want to run my own company,” Katy says.
“I have absolutely no idea,” Zoey answers.
He nods knowingly. “Just remember that life is short, but wide.” “What does that mean?” Zoey asks, but Mr. Taylor doesn’t hear her. He’s walking briskly toward the little girl who is now emerging from the bathroom.
“I think it means there’s more time than you think to explore different things,” Katy says.
“Like wearing a polyester vest?” Zoey whispers to Megan.
When the little girl runs out and reaches for Mr. Taylor’s hand, he feels a wave of gratitude toward Josie. He knew she’d find the right thing to say. He knew it, even if she didn’t.
Tyson and Tom Davis know they should be doing something with their time other than playing video games, but their two older brothers aren’t home, and they have to take advantage of the easy access. Their mother wishes they would put more effort into studying, but she has accepted that her twins will never be brain surgeons. They have other gifts, like their gentle, good natures and the way they get joy out of life’s simpler pleasures.
When the doorbell rings they call their mom, but she’s on the phone and tells them to answer it. Tom reluctantly puts down his joystick and picks up the half-eaten ice pop he had set aside. He opens the door without looking outside first, which he knows he’s not supposed to do, but he wants to get back to the game. He is surprised to see Josie Taylor, a girl from school, standing on his front step like it’s the most natural thing in the world for her to be doing. She starts talking, but Tom can’t seem to focus on her words. He sees Zoey and Megan by the minivan. They scare him a little. They’re always telling secrets and giggling.
Tyson wonders what is keeping Tom and bets it’s a Girl Scout selling cookies. Last year Tom completely forgot to order the Thin Mints, and there is no way Tyson’s going to let that happen again. He hurries to the door. To his surprise, there is no Girl Scout. He eagerly agrees to Josie’s proposal. Hanging out with four girls for the afternoon beats playing video games with his brother hands down. Plus it’s a nice, warm day and it will be good to be outside.
5:10
P.M.
– 6:45
P.M.
“Where are we headed?” Tyson asks as we pull away from their house.
“To Celebration,” Zoey replies. Then she leans forward and tells Katy and me, “The deli on Celebration Avenue has free papers by the door. I’ll run in when we get there. Fifty minutes left!”
I drive a bit too fast into Celebration, which luckily is only two exits off the 417 from the boys’ house. As soon as I pass the sign welcoming us to Celebration, I feel like I’ve left Orlando and entered small-town America. The Disney Company built it to feel that way. The houses are done in a Victorian-meets-the-Old-South style with big wraparound porches and white picket fences. The whole town is really clean and uncluttered. I feel instantly calmer whenever I come here. I pull up in front of the deli so I don’t have to find a parking space, and Zoey jumps out. A minute later she’s back, empty-handed.
I lean out my window. “What happened?”
“They’re all out,” she says dejectedly. “The guy said a group of girls came in and took the whole pile.”
“Oh, that’s just not playing fair,” Megan says, hopping out of the car. “C’mon, we’ll check the other stores.”
Celebration only has four other places to check, so it doesn’t take the two of them very long. “All we could find was this.” Zoey hands Katy a flyer advertising a town picnic.
“I don’t think that’s going to cut it.”
“Wait a second,” I say, turning around to face everyone. “Remember we went to Mr. Simon’s house on our Last-Hurrah Hal- loween? He lives here in town. He must get the paper, right?” I’m already pulling away from the curb as Megan says, “Maybe next Halloween should be the Last Hurrah instead. As I recall, Mr. Simon gave out full-size Snickers.”
“Face it, Megan,” Zoey says with a sigh. “We’re just too old. Last year was embarrassing enough.”
A few more turns and we are in front of his house. I turn off the car. “There’s no way I’m going in there alone this time.”
Katy quickly undoes her seatbelt. “We’ll all go.”
Everyone piles out of the minivan, including the boys.
“Uh, sorry,” Katy says, holding up her hand. “You guys have to wait in the car.”
“Can we sit on the curb?” Tyson asks.
“I don’t see why not,” Katy says. They plop down on the clean white curb and somehow manage to give the impression that they are comfortable. Tyson gently rests Fang’s tin on his lap. For teenage boys, they are very well behaved.
We hurry up to the front door and this time Megan rings the bell.
He opens the door and it takes a second for him to recognize us as his students. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” he asks, smiling. “Did you run out of gas?”
“Not exactly,” I say. “We sort of need to ask you a favor.” He is wearing shorts and a t-shirt and looks even hotter than he does at school.
He steps aside for us to come in. Before he closes the door he says, “Are those the Davis twins?”
I nod.
“Are they coming in too?” he asks.
I shake my head.
He gives them one last look and then closes the door the rest of the way. “So what can I do for you?”
Megan steps forward and blurts out, “We need a copy of the Celebration paper, but we can’t tell you why or else that would mean you were helping us and that’s against the rules and one of us” — she glances hard at Katy — “is very particular about the rules.”
“I think I have it somewhere,” he says. “And don’t worry, I won’t ask any questions.” He winks and heads off into another room.
“He’s so cute,” Megan whispers. “Maybe I’ll take photography next year! Should I ask him if he has any Snickers left?”
We all strongly shake our heads.
“Oh my god!” Zoey says loudly, then swiftly lowers her voice. “We could get another item on the list right here!”
“Which one?” Katy asks, confused.
“The underwear from a teacher!”
Megan squeals. “We’d definitely win, then!”
I grab Zoey’s arm. “No, we can’t do that! What if he catches us? He’ll fail me!”
“Don’t be such a worrier,” Megan says. “I’ll run upstairs. It’ll only take a second. You can tell him I went to find a bathroom.”
Before I can say anything she turns and runs up the stairs.
I lean my head against Katy’s shoulder and squeeze my eyes shut. In my head I make a silent plea for Mr. Simon not to come back before Megan returns.
A few seconds later Katy twitches her shoulder and I open my eyes. He’s back with the newspaper in his hand. He hands me the paper and looks around. “Where’s your other friend?”
My mouth appears unable to function, so Katy gives the excuse. We stand around for another few seconds and then hear a toilet flush upstairs. Good thinking, Megan. She comes down the stairs, her eyes shining. There’s a new bulge in the front pocket of her shorts.
“Any problem finding it?” he asks.
Megan grins. “Nope. Second door on the right.”
I force myself to speak. “Thanks, Mr. Simon, we’ve really gotta go.”
“See you in class tomorrow, Ms. Taylor,” he says as we file past him out the door. “Hi, boys,” he calls out to the twins.
“Hi, Mr. Simon,” they say together, and stand up when they see us coming.
I clutch the paper so tightly I feel like my hand is going to bleed. We jump in the car and I fumble with the keys. Finally we pull away and around the corner. I put the car in park and turn around to Megan.
“So what did you get? Boxers? Tighty-whities?”
She shakes her head and pulls something black and yellow out of her pocket. “Tada! A leopard-print thong!”
“No way!” Zoey says, grabbing it from her. “This must be Ms. Robinson’s, I mean Mrs. Simon’s!”
Katy and I just gape. The boys whistle. I guess she isn’t as frigid as we all thought!
“Yup. It was either this or the French maid outfit! I figured she’d miss this one less.”
“Oh, we are
so
going to win!” Zoey says, bouncing in her seat. “I can’t believe she wears that stuff. I’ll never look at her in class the same way again!”
“Time check,” Katy says.