Summer on the Moon (20 page)

Livvy knelt on the jump seat and slid the window behind it open. “Junebug? You can come out now.”

The plastic tarp stirred. Pushing it aside, Junebug sat up slowly. She watched the blank faces of brand-new houses stream by. Despite the heat, she kept the tarp wrapped around her like a blanket.

Socko wished he was riding in back with her. He’d tell her that this place was weird at first but that you get used to it. He’d explain that Moon Ridge was like one of those islands where birds evolved, losing the ability to fly because there were no major predators.

“Shoot,” said Luke as they pulled into Socko’s driveway. “Looks like I’m heading back to the city.” He snagged Mrs. Holmes’s envelope, which stuck up from between the seats.

“Sorry about that,” said Socko.

“You’re safe from him here,” Livvy assured Junebug through the
open window.

But Socko was worried about a different “him” as he climbed out of the truck. He trotted up the driveway, leaving Livvy to bring Junebug inside.

“Delia Marie!” the General rasped as Socko opened the door. “This is completely unacceptable! We’ve already done our share. More than our share. We can’t save everybody!”

“What did you want us to do? Let her gangsta boyfriend kill her?” Socko’s mother yelled back, tossing her paper hat in the garbage.

“Who do I look like, Mother Teresa? There must be someplace else she can go.”

“If there was, do you think we would’ve brung her here?”

Socko watched Livvy help Junebug down out of the truck. “General, sir?”

“Don’t interrupt, young man. Your mother and I are having a difference of opinion!”

“Take a look.”

“At what?” But the old man rolled his chair over to the window. “Gonna break her fool neck,” he muttered, watching Junebug stand, swaying slightly in her too-tall heels.

“She’s kind of in shock,” Socko said. “Up ‘til a few minutes ago she thought she was going to die today.”

“Hang out with the wrong people and …” The words fizzled. “Skinny little thing, isn’t she? Wears way too much makeup.”

“But she’s a good girl,” Delia insisted. “She was just in over her head.”

The General sighed. “All I wanted out of our little arrangement was peace and quiet. No fuss. And what do I get? Homeless families, girls with crazy boyfriends … all kinds of mess. You knew there was going to be a problem—I heard you two whispering about it. Why didn’t you talk to me? We’re a family.”

Socko and Delia stared at each other over the old man’s head. When, amidst all the complaints and threats to “call my lawyer,” had they become a family?

But they had.

Delia put her hand on the General’s shoulder as the front door
slowly opened and Livvy helped Junebug inside.

“Mother Teresa?” Delia said softly to the General. “I got someone I’d like you to meet.”

His name is Rapp Robinson and he drives a maroon Trans Am,” Socko said, putting Uncle Eddie on alert. “I don’t think he’s going to come, but if he does, don’t try to do anything. Just call the cops.”

“I saw that girl sit up in the truck after you all pulled through. Wondered why she was riding back there. I get off in half an hour, but if you want I can sleep in the booth.” Uncle Eddie picked up the flashlight he always kept handy and swung it like a weapon.

Socko took a good look at the old guy and his flashlight and told him to go home after his shift. If Rapp showed up in the middle of the night, Uncle Eddie would get himself killed—or else he’d sleep right through it.

All that evening Socko prowled quietly from window to door, checking the road. Sometimes he stopped and rolled his shoulders, but his muscles stayed tight.

The General and Delia watched a couple of game shows. Junebug’s eyes were pointed toward the set, but after a little while she curled up on the sofa, her sparkly shoes on the floor.

Socko’s mother and great-grandfather quietly debated where to put the girl for the night. They had a room for Junebug, but no bed. “Leave her here on the couch,” the General said. “I’ll be close by in the recliner if anything happens.”

Socko wondered, had the General or Uncle Eddie ever noticed they were old? What would either one of them do if something actually
did
happen?

The next day Livvy’s mom offered them a fold out couch, which Luke and Socko horsed up the stairs. Without even opening it, Junebug stretched out and went to sleep again.

It was late afternoon by the time she wandered down the stairs. Socko and Livvy were playing cards with the General. Delia was reading an old magazine, enjoying the luxury of two days off between jobs.

“Hi.” Junebug stood in the door, her thin arms wrapped around herself.

“Cuppa coffee?” the General asked, laying down his cards.

Junebug nodded.

Socko was surprised when his great-grandfather made the coffee himself. He wasn’t Mother Teresa yet, but he sure was headed that way.

As the General handed her the cup, Junebug’s eyes seemed to focus for the first time. They were fixed on the hand holding the cup. “How do you do you even zip your fly with those long nails?”

“How is that any business of yours?” he shot back. “Actually I do almost everything with great difficulty,” he admitted. “But I got too much arthritis in my hands to cut ’em myself, so I’m kind of stuck.”

“You should’ve told me!” said Delia. “I got scissors.” Socko and his mother had never thought the General might need help with cutting his nails or anything else. They’d taken his orneriness as an order to leave him alone.

“Scissors! I can do better than that.” Junebug disappeared into the living room where her fat purse sat on the end of the couch. She returned with a small plastic case and a piece of paper. “I’m a certified nurse’s aide.” She presented the General with the paper and unzipped the case with a flourish.

“I’m sure you are,” he said, offering her his hand.

After Junebug had cut, buffed, and filed his nails, the old man
admired them for a moment. Then he zeroed in on her with his good eye. “You want a real challenge?”

“Feet?” she asked.

“You know it, sister!”

“Sure thing, but first I better let my aunt know I’m okay. Delia, can I borrow your emergency phone? My cell’s gone. I took everything out of my bag, but it wasn’t in there.”

Socko remembered the contents of Junebug’s purse scattered on the asphalt behind the Phat. Livvy must have missed the phone in her hurry to pick everything up and get out of there.

“It’s been two days,” said Livvy. She and Socko were in the back of the truck, heading toward the day’s planting site.

“I know,” said Socko. But something was still bothering him. Despite being a Tarantula, Damien hadn’t ratted him out when he left with Junebug. Damien was still more loyal to him than he was to Rapp—and all Socko could do in return was go back to planting with Livvy and Luke?

He tried to come up with something as he dug holes. He’d told Damien he’d have his back, but so far Damien had covered for him every time.

It was late afternoon, and the sun was beating down by the time Socko walked over to the guard booth. “See anything?” he asked Uncle Eddie.

“Nope. No desperadoes, hoodlums, horse thieves, racketeers, mobsters, or malefactors. Not even a stray dog.” The old man sounded disappointed. “You think we’re in the clear?”

“I guess.”

Uncle Eddie gazed at the empty road that ran in front of the subdivision. “I’m thinking about bumping the threat level down from orange to green.”

“What does green mean?”

“Low probability of a terrorist attack.”

“I don’t know … you might wait another day or two.”

“Okey dokey.”

“See ya, Uncle Eddie.”

Socko walked along, watching his feet and thinking thoughts that went about as far as a hamster running in its wheel.

“Hey! Pool’s full!” When he looked up, Livvy was striding toward him wearing a polka-dot two-piece swimsuit.

He avoided looking at her white stomach with its frowny belly button, concentrating instead on her weird tan. Like his, her pale skin turned bright pink in the sun. Her burn started and stopped so abruptly it was like she was still wearing her shirt and shorts. He pointed to the flexible foam logs resting on her shoulders. “What’re those?”

“Pool noodles.” She tossed him the purple one. “Want to stop at your house and change into your swimsuit?”

Socko didn’t have one. “Why waste time? I can swim in my shorts.”

Livvy dipped a toe into water that was pink with the sunset. “Nice!” The pool noodle she tossed in landed with a splash.

Socko threw his in too and shucked his T-shirt. Livvy stared at his pale chest a moment, then looked away. “Let’s jump on three!” she said as he draped his shirt on one of the bushes he and Luke had planted.

Embarrassed by his own exposed skin, he launched before she’d even said “one.” The water was cool but not cold. His feet touched bottom. He opened his eyes in response to the explosion of Livvy hitting the water. Slowed by the water, she drifted down, her eyes open too. Her hair, tinted orange, swirled around her face like flames, and silvery bubbles escaped from the corners of her mouth. Together, they popped to the surface.

“Ohmygosh! This is so great!” Livvy slicked back her wet hair with both hands, then paddled lazily toward the yellow pool noodle. She hung her arms over it.

He fanned his own arms in big circles and tried to act cool. Was she his girlfriend?

“There’s that thing at the school tomorrow, the open house?” she said. “You think your mom could take us?”

“She starts her new job tomorrow.”

She frowned. “My parents can’t take us either. They’re meeting with the guy who wants to buy those houses on Orbit Lane.” The deal was being offered by another builder, one who was buying distressed properties at bargain prices, then finishing the houses and selling them at a profit. Livvy had told Socko that her parents didn’t like the idea, but that the sale of six houses would make the partners happy. “Maybe Junebug can drive us.”

“Or we could give it a pass.” School would start soon enough.

He rolled onto his back and hung still in the water, listening to the hum of the pool pump, smelling the chlorine. For a second he imagined he was on the roof with Damien, but it felt faint and faraway. He was in a swimming pool with a girl. He was wondering what it would be like to kiss a girl in a pool when a wave surged over his face. He stood up, choking, chlorine burning his nose. “Why’d ya do that?”

“To get your attention?”

He vaguely remembered some
blugga-blubba
sounds coming through the water. “Did you have to get my attention by drowning me?”

“Sorry.” She stood up too. A water droplet dangled from each earlobe. “What do you think our new school will be like?”

“I dunno.” His old school had been as dead and decayed as the president it was named after. According to Livvy the new school was almost as new as the houses in Moon Ridge Estates. How was he supposed to know what
that
would be like?

“Come on, Socko, predict.”

“I predict … rubber pizza in the cafeteria.”

She twisted her wet hair with one hand and pressed it against the back of her head. The water held it in place. “What do you think will happen the first day?”

“We’ll write what we did on our summer vacation.” His first day
last school year, Socko had written about exploring the North Pole. He’d read a book about it over the summer while sweating in their apartment. The assignment was dumb anyway. No one at GC did anything on their summer vacation.

“Last summer I went to Switzerland,” Livvy said. She scooped up water in both hands and watched it slip away between her fingers.

“And this summer you’re saving Moon Ridge Estates.”

“And Junebug.” She dove under the darkening water and then came back up. “And Luke and his family. You can write about that too—unless we’re in the same English class. Then I call it.”

She’d forgotten he’d be in seventh, she’d be in eighth, and even if they were in the same grade, she’d be in the smart class. He’d be in the one where kids killed time sharpening pencils.

But even if by some fluke they were in the same class, he’d still write about it. He already had a title picked out: My Summer on the Moon.

“It’s all good,” Delia had said that morning. “Rapp is history and tomorrow I start a new job!”

But even if they never saw Rapp again and her new job was great, it
wasn’t
all good—it was just different. A lot had happened since he and Damien had busted the Hurtler celebrating the start of summer vacation.

Like meeting Livvy.

He thought again about kissing a girl in a pool, but Livvy was climbing out.

Delia tugged at the blouse of her new uniform. “Is it too tight?”

The General wheeled his chair closer and squinted his good eye at her.

Don’t say it
, Socko begged silently. The uniform looked like it had been painted on.

“Avoid sneezing!” the old man advised.

“Oh, dear!” Delia clasped her hands.

“I think she looks hot!” said Junebug, who was pulling Delia’s hair back into a bun.

“Hot?” the General snorted, the lone eye staring. “The color looks good on you, Delia Marie.” Orange and brown had been replaced by a pale blue. He gave her arm a pat. “Anyway, it’s not the uniform, it’s the girl
in
the uniform. Give ’em heck, honey!”

She winked at him. “You know I will.”

Socko walked Delia to the car and held the door. She climbed in, setting her purse on the seat beside her carefully. An employee handbook stuck out of the top. “That reminds me,” she said. “The new place won’t let staff bring food home. It sure is going to be different working for a chain! So, no more greasy burgers—unless I pay for them. And you can forget that!”

“One of us better learn how to cook,” said Socko.

“One of us already knows how to cook.” Delia waved at the General, who was watching from the window.

Great, thought Socko. SOS on a regular basis.

Delia tapped her cheek. “Come on, give me a little sugar.”

When he leaned in and kissed her cheek, she touched the
S
on his hat. “Big day for both of us, huh? New job for me. New school for you. Have a great time at the open house.”

“I’m going?” He’d written the whole thing off.

“Junebug’s driving. Livvy’s parents are lending her a car. Livvy worked it out.”

“Hope it’s the convertible,” he said, although all he really wanted to do was slide through the last two weeks of summer, school free.

Livvy let herself in without knocking. She was wearing a yellow knit dress and yellow sandals. “I know. Too yellow, but Mother insisted.” She stopped and stared at Socko. “Tell me you’re going to change.”

He glanced down at his cutoffs, sneakers without socks, the T-shirt that said, “I Brake for Cheese!” He’d tried to dress up for the open house, but his one pair of good pants was suddenly too short. Going as himself wasn’t his first choice, but it turned out to be his only option.

“Pretend you don’t know me.” Socko adjusted Damien’s lid, pushing it down lower.

“Not the hat! Please, please, please! Anything but the Superman hat!”

“Not negotiable.” Wearing the hat was as close as he could get to having his best friend with him—plus today he needed all the invincibility he could get. “I’ll walk ten steps behind you.”

She was about to launch another attack on his outfit when the cell phone on the kitchen counter rang.

“Saved by the bell,” mumbled the General.

Socko vaulted into the kitchen, sure that something had gone wrong on his mom’s new job, but when he picked up the phone, it
said June Grimes was calling. Someone had found Junebug’s lost phone. “Hello?” he said.

The breathless voice on the other end of the line was a kid’s. “He’s on his way!”

“Damien? Is that you?”

“No! This is the ghost of the cock-a-roach we zapped in the microwave!
Yeah
, it’s me. Who else would risk getting obliviated to warn you? Listen fast. I only got seconds while Meat runs a bag of puppy chow up to his mom. Rapp went to Junebug’s aunt and said he wanted to apologize to Junebug and she bought it. Her aunt didn’t know the address but she told him Moon Ridge Estates. He lit out of here, like, fifteen, twenty minutes ago. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—gotta bail!”

“Damien!” Socko heard the click. Fifteen, twenty minutes ago? He had to mobilize, but Damien had always been the one with ideas. The phone in his hand rang again. He popped the button without checking the caller ID. “Damien!”

“Holy mother of Mike!” Eddie Corrigan’s voice sputtered in his ear. “That guy you warned me about just drove up.”

“Whatever you do, don’t raise the gate!”

“Raise the gate? He broke it right off with his car when I wouldn’t let him in! Couldn’t stop him, but I put a honey of a dent in his trunk with my flashlight.”

The phone nearly slid out of Socko’s sweaty hand. He caught it and pressed it to his ear. “Which way did he go?”

“The long way. Turned left instead of right.”

“Did you call 911? Uncle Eddie? Did you—” The phone went dead. Socko stared at it stupidly. Delia’s cheapo pay-as-you-go phone had just run out of minutes.

When he looked up, the General and Livvy were in the kitchen doorway. “What the devil is going on?” asked his great-grandfather.

“Junebug’s old boyfriend.” Socko kept his voice down. Although Junebug was upstairs, he wanted to make sure she didn’t hear what was going down. “He just drove his car through the gate—broke it clean off.”

“Rapp’s coming here?” Livvy gasped.

“Call 911,” the General ordered.

“Can’t,” Socko whispered. “The phone’s dead.”

They both turned to Livvy, who was permanently attached to her cell. She held out the sides of her skinny knit dress. “No pockets. I’ll run across the street and call from home.”

Socko practically stepped on her bare heels as they raced out his door and across the street to her front door.

She tried to turn the knob. “I must’ve locked it!”

“Key?” he asked.

She rested her forehead against the door and closed her eyes. “No pockets.”

“Go back to my house, get inside. I’ll run to Luke’s.”

“I’m going with you!”

“No!” They were arguing about who would do what when a maroon Trans Am blew past the entrance to Tranquility Way. Socko heard the skid, then a squeal as Rapp threw it into reverse.

In a heartbeat the car sat idling in the street in front of Livvy’s house. Rapp hung an arm out the window and gave the door a slap, fingers spread so the spider tattoo near his thumb was prominent. “Yo, Socko.”

He stepped in front of Livvy. “Hey, Rapp.”

“This your new place?”

“No!” Livvy stepped out from behind him. “
I
live here.”

“So, where do
you
live, Socko?”

“On the other side of the project.” Socko could see the General’s white face at the window across the street, his wrinkled palms pressed to the glass.

“Where?” Rapp demanded. “Junebug called, said she’s ready to go. I ain’t got all day.”

Socko pointed down the street. “Okay … so … you turn around, get back on the circle, then make a right at Eclipse, then—”

“Climb in.”

“The address is 327 Eclipse. It’s real easy.”

“Get in.”

“Sure, okay.” By now Uncle Eddie had called 911; help would be here any second. But just in case, Socko turned to Livvy. “Tell Uncle Eddie I’ll help him out later.”

“No!” She grabbed his hand and started to run, dragging him along. Rounding the back corner of the house, she gave one last hard tug and pulled him out of sight. “You are not getting in that car!” The engine roared, growing suddenly louder—and the Trans Am whipped around the corner of the house.

Livvy screamed, but the car’s ferocious lunge stopped. Rapp’s tires churned the dirt as they fought to get traction. Still holding Livvy’s hand, Socko jerked her in a new direction. “Cross the street!” They ducked behind a house on the other side of Tranquility and kept running. Rapp must have driven over a curb as he followed them and knocked his muffler loose. Like a dog that had just had its muzzle taken off, the snarl of the engine exploded, but the sound seemed to be going away from them.

Livvy fell back against the wall of an empty house and closed her eyes. Struggling for breath, Socko watched her heartbeat tick in one eyelid. Her eyes opened. “Socko, why are you breathing like that?”

“I’m okay.” It wasn’t a full-blown asthma attack, but he could feel his chest getting tight.

The engine sound was growing louder, and Livvy peered around the corner of the house. “Ohmygosh! He’s coming this way!”

Socko looked too. Dragging beneath the car, the muffler clattered and sparked. “Maybe he won’t spot us.” But the car was slowing.

“Like the yellow dress,” Rapp called from the street.

Livvy pulled back. “I told Mother this outfit was a terrible idea!”

“Where’s Junebug, Socko? Come on, I just wanna talk to her.” Rapp sounded reasonable but Socko’s heart pounded. He knew how quick Rapp’s temper could flare up.

“I’m your worst nightmare, kid. Your worst. The longer you make me chase you, the deader you’ll be.”

“Can you run?” Livvy whispered.

“Yeah,” he wheezed.

“If we stay off the roads it’ll be hard for him to follow in the car. We’ll lose him.”

“
I’ll
lose him.” He held onto her shoulders. “Soon as he … chases me … go to my house … get inside …”

“No! I’m going with you.”

“When Rapp says ‘dead’ he means … like … no longer breathing.”

“You’re barely breathing right now. You
need
me!”

The Trans Am revved.

“I mean it … get lost!” Before he let go of her shoulders he pulled her toward him fast. He kissed her right on the mouth, then took off.

“What was that about?” Livvy yelled, taking off after him.

“I don’t know … quit following me!”

She wouldn’t quit following him and Rapp wouldn’t quit following them. If only she wasn’t wearing that yellow dress. It fluttered like a flag as she ran, leading Rapp on.

They ran through dirt yards, cutting across the spokes of the wheel of streets. But despite the dragging muffler, Rapp didn’t hesitate to go off-road. His spinning tires threw up volcanic plumes of dust.

Socko felt as if someone had kicked a hole in his chest. Still, he leapt curbs, pounded across streets. He coughed … and kept going.

“The tubes!” he gasped, jumping another curb. To lose Rapp they ran a zigzag pattern between houses. If they could duck into the drainage pipes on Harvest Moon he could stop, catch his breath, figure out what to do.

The tubes were just ahead when the Trans Am lurched into sight. Rapp’s arm hung out the car window. “Run little bunnies! Run, run!”

Shoulders hunched, they barreled through one of the tubes. The small but mighty ant flashed by, and they were out the other side.

“Follow me!” Livvy doubled back, losing Rapp, then veered off and dashed into the see-through house and up the stairs. She danced out onto one of the beams and sat. “Come on, Socko!”

Socko coughed as he ran up the stairs, coughed harder as he stumbled out onto the beam. He sat down hard beside her. “Why … are we
here?” he choked. He couldn’t see the strategic advantage in hiding in a house without walls, but she was smart, she had to have a reason.

“You can’t breathe!”

“I’m breathing!” He gripped the beam with both hands, afraid he might pass out. “I used to … have asthma, but I’ll be okay. I … I … just have to calm down.” They listened for a minute, but couldn’t hear the sound of Rapp’s muffler dragging. “Maybe he won’t find us,” Socko said.

“Maybe not.” She glanced at him, then looked away. “Did you ever kiss a girl before?”

“No. That was a first. You?”

“A first.”

“Good.” Was that the right thing to say? He was in uncharted territory. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “You hear that?” Before she could answer, the car came into sight.

“Sorry, Socko, sorry,” Livvy whispered. “Coming up here was a stupid idea.”

“He still might not see us.”

“You think he can miss us with me wearing this dress?”

The Trans Am pulled slowly into the driveway. “Well, what do we have here?” The fingers on the hand hanging out the open window tapped the door lightly.

As Rapp shut it down, the engine made a choking sound.

In the sudden silence Rapp climbed out of the driver’s seat and took a slow walk around his “classic” car. A flashlight dent in the trunk harbored a pool of shadow. He kicked the dragging muffler. “Look what you made me do.” With his right hand he imitated the shape of a gun, closed one eye, and took aim at each of them. “Bam. Bam.”

Livvy barely moved her lips. “Does he have a gun?”

“I dunno.”

They both let out an involuntary yelp when Rapp reached through the open car window. He retrieved a pack of cigarettes from his front seat and slid one out. “Why so jumpy? I ain’t begun to put the hurt on you yet.” The cigarette bobbled in his mouth as he spoke. “Last
chance, kiddies.” He tossed the cigarette pack through the open window of the Trans Am. “Take me to Junebug and you two are free to go on breathing. I’m bein’ generous.”

“How’d you even figure out Junebug was here?” Socko called. He already knew it was Junebug’s churchy aunt, but the only hope he had was to kill time. By now someone had to have called 911.

“Your buddy told me.” Rapp paused to light his cigarette. “Lil’ D was happy to draw me a map. More than happy to.”

Socko remembered Damien running a finger along the map on the back of the brochure. Could Rapp be telling the truth? Socko closed his eyes a moment, and thought back to Damien’s call warning him that Rapp was coming.

“The kid sure is loyal,” said Rapp, obviously enjoying the fact that the word “loyal” cut two ways. “I value that in a foot soldier.” He glared up at them out of the tops of his eyes. “And in a girlfriend.”

Socko looked sideways at Livvy.

“Hey!” Rapp pronged his fingers at them. “Eyes here. This is how it’s gonna go—I’m done playin’. You two come down and take me to Junebug.”

“
I’ll
come down,” Socko said. “She stays up here.”

“No!” Livvy grabbed Socko’s hand. “I don’t think he has a gun,” she whispered.

Rapp lifted a foot and crushed the cigarette butt against the sole of his boot. “That’s it. Playtime’s over.” He strode toward the house and ran up the stairs, but his boots didn’t ring like they did on the metal steps to the roof. The space around Rapp was bigger here—and that made him smaller.

Socko felt the wood give under the gang leader’s weight as he placed a foot on the beam. Rapp’s gangsta pants usually kept one of his hands busy acting as a belt, but he was going to need to hold his arms out for balance to walk the beam. His boxers ballooned above his drooping waistband. A bead of sweat dripped off his nose as he placed his other boot on the beam. His spread arms bobbled, like he was a kid playing airplane.