The Puzzle Master (2 page)

Luke fired up another cigarette, and let Marshall alone. “You just holler if you need me,” he said, putting his feet up on the counter. He opened a fish and wildlife magazine and forgot about Marshall, engrossed in a world of bait and tackle and ammunition.

The room had lights, but boxes covered many of them up all the way to the ceiling. It made the nooks and crannies look even darker, and the room like a cave. But mostly, it made Marshall feel like his treasure—
the
treasure—was just waiting for him. He couldn’t wait to get it and to tell his buddies about it at school next week. He would be the talk of the school.

Even Michael Marks would be in awe of him, and offer to buy the treasure from him
on the spot.
Ever since they were five, Michael always had the coolest toys; nun chucks
one year
, a real whip the next, then a Dungeons and Dragons game. Every year, the toys got increasingly better. It was as if the toys just fell into his lap too;
like
his parents knew how cool it was for their kid to have something great to show every other kid up. It was disgusting. Marshall wished his parents were like that.

He wandered through the pathway. Boxes and bins littered the walkway, and a light layer of dust and dirt had become a part of every item. The trail through the stuff made a loop around the store and was so narrow two people couldn’t even stand together in the aisle. Marshall stopped to check out some old Spider Man comics.
Could be interesting.
Then he leafed through a football card collection. But he didn’t like football. Basketball was his thing. He had plans to be 6’6” and play forward on the team when he got to high school. If he could find a basketball card collection, well maybe, that would be the treasure.

Luke turned on a radio and country music wafted through to the back of the store. Marshall only had until 8:30. Then he’d have to head home. That’s what his mom had said. If he didn’t get back, she was liable to keep him from ever going to Luke’s again.

He checked his watch. It was already 8:25.
How could that be?
Time evaporated into thin air in there. He had to leave before Mom grounded him again. Marshall wound his way back to the front, eyes peeled for something amazing to take home with him. But, it didn’t happen. He was empty-handed once more.

“I
gotta
go, Mr. Luke. Maybe I can come back later though.” Marshall looked at the glass case in front of him. It had all the important things in there: knives, coins, jewelry. The kinds of stuff Marshall would never be able to afford, or even think about owning.

“Okay. That’s too bad though.
Thought maybe you’d stick around a little longer.”
Luke blew smoke out of his lips, which looked like elevator doors, opening an inch apart and then closing. “If you can, come back tonight after dinner,” he said, thinking hard. “I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

Marshall figured that Luke had the best job in the world. He already had a million surprises all over the place. He was like Santa Claus, only younger, and without the white beard. His beard was still light brown, with a few gray hairs. Now Luke was offering him something else.

“If you think you know what it is, you don’t,” he said with a smile. Smoke billowed around Luke’s head, rising to the yellowed tiled ceiling. “You’ll just have to come back and see.”

Marshall grinned. He didn’t feel so bad for having to leave without a treasure.

“Okay.”  He ran a hand through his dark hair, trying to ignore the wispy tightness growing in his chest. He didn’t want to take a breath from his inhaler in front of Luke. It would be rude.
“Wouldn’t miss it.
See you tonight.”

A bell on the front of the door chimed as he walked out. Marshall rode home as fast as he could. He didn’t want to be late. He couldn’t risk his mother never allowing him to go back. What would he do then? He had promised his pals he was getting something good before summer break ended. He had to go back tonight.

Perspiration started to flow like raindrops.
Stupid hat
, he thought. It’s good for keeping the sun out but lousy for keeping your head cool. The tightness in his chest had subsided, but flared back when he drove up the driveway.

He skidded to a halt at the side gate, and walked the bike through to the garage. His father had already left for work, and wouldn’t be back until dinnertime. He looked at his watch. 8:32.
Oh
sheesh
,
he thought,
please don’t let mom notice. Please don’t let her notice.

He stuck his head in through the door. He could hear Leila singing along with her morning cartoon. She was eating breakfast. Mom had to be close by, but where? He closed the door behind him and took off his hat. Mason was on the phone, talking about driver’s education for next summer. Marshall rolled his eyes. That was probably the most important thing to Mason right now. And
how
he was going to get that car to drive, was a close second.

“You’re late,” said a voice behind him. Oh boy. Mom had seen him.

“Hey Mom,” Marshall said with a smile. “I’m not late, been here for a bit.” That was a lie. He hated lying, it was so selfish. And yet, he couldn’t help from saying it.

She sighed. “Honey, I saw you pull up on the bike in the driveway. You
are
late.”

Marshall looked at the linoleum kitchen floor. The blue faded flowers were dirty no matter how many times his Mom washed them. And they were as ugly as he felt. “Just two minutes, that’s all.”

“
Ooooh
,” Leila sung out, when she heard them talking. “Sure glad it wasn’t me.”

Marshall scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out at her. She just sniffed and turned her head back to the television.

“I can’t keep letting you come home late. I know you love that place, Luke’s Store…”

“Luke’s Junk,” he corrected her. “I only go like once a week, and I missed last week ‘
cause
I was at camp. Please let me go again. I promise this time I won’t be late.”

“That’s a pie crust promise,” she said washing her hands at the sink. She put water in the coffee maker and began scooping out coffee from a tin canister.
“Easily made, easily broken.”

Marshall
thought
about the surprise Luke had waiting for him at the store. How could he miss it? What if it was another guitar like Mason’s? Or a
really
nice
guitar? Or what if it was an even better treasure than that? He would miss it all because of Mom.

 “Please,” he begged, his voice turning to almost a cry. “Luke says he’s got a surprise for me when I come back tonight. I
gotta
go.”

 
“Tonight?”
She laughed. “You’re not going anywhere. You’ve spent more Mondays at that store than some people ever go in there in a lifetime. And if you can’t keep track of your time, well, that’s your problem.” Marshall groaned inside. What rotten luck. If he’d just left the store before Luke had spoken to him, he wouldn’t have been late. But had he left without talking to Luke in the first place, he never would’ve known about the surprise.

 
Rotten, rotten luck.
His mind faded back to his mother’s voice.

 “You start sixth grade in one week. And you don’t need to be going to some junk store every chance you get just to find a stupid toy. Besides, it’s really too much smoke for your condition.” She pushed the ‘on’ button and they listened to the trickle of coffee spitting out of the spout.     

 “It’s not just a toy mom,” he said, his brown eyes moistening over her speech. “I’m looking for something, like Mason’s guitar.”

 She
grunted,
which sounded like a mix of a sigh and laugh, and then wiped strawberry jam off of Leila’s face. “I won’t let you go tonight. You need to learn to be a boy of your word.
Because a boy of his word grows to be a man of his word.”
She saw the frustration in his face, and sighed again. “I bet if you asked him, Mason would give you that guitar. It’s not like he actually plays it.”

 Marshall wanted to scream. She didn’t get it.
Not at all.
There was a mysterious joy, something he couldn’t explain to her in finding that treasure;
the
treasure. He didn’t want Mason’s stupid guitar.   

 “Anyway,” she said suddenly on to other things, “You need to get out there and mow the lawn. Daddy said he was going to, but forgot last night, so come on. Stop pouting and get out there.”

 She put a hand through his hair, patted his chin and headed for the washing machine. Her actions said that she loved him, but it didn’t feel that way. All he felt was anger and rage at the injustice. Leila always got what she wanted, Mason did too. So, where did that leave him?

 Out to mow the grass.

 He felt that fuzzy feeling move in his lungs and he puffed on his inhaler. He walked back into the garage.

 Boy of his word. He snorted. Man of his word.
Another snort.
His daddy hadn’t even mowed the grass …
he
hadn’t kept his word. Why should Marshall?

 Marshall backed the crusty lawn mower out and yanked on the cord. It sputtered.
Nothing.
He did this about five times, and finally the mower roared to life. He pushed it onto the green and began his last Monday morning of summer vacation.

 
He had to have a better plan
, he thought. The “no” from his mom just wasn’t going to work this time. He steadied the mower, while his brain worked, and he tried not to sideswipe the hydrangeas while making his plan-of-attack.

 He had to find out what the surprise was. He had to get to Luke’s tonight—even if it was the last
outing
he ever had.

Chapter 2: Iris

All that day, Marshall thought about his plan. He had to get to Luke’s without his mom knowing. But by four in the afternoon, he almost didn’t care if she found out. A surprise from Luke had to be something good. He would risk grounding for a month just to have it.

By dinnertime, Marshall had made up his mind: he was getting out.

Leila and Marshall were sitting at the dinner table when their father walked in from work.

“Daddy!”
Leila yelled, running up to give him a hug. She glanced at Marshall once then faced her father again, hand on her waist. “Daddy, Marshall is grounded for coming home late this morning.”

His father set down Leila and patted her on the head, ruffling her blond hair. His father had never wanted to move to Sacramento. The only reason they were there, and had been for nearly ten years, was because of Marshall’s asthma.

Marshall was about to hug his father, but after Leila’s words, it seemed all wrong. Marshall just nodded at him instead. It didn’t help that he always felt his father blamed him for being there; that they’d left the coast of Washington all because of his condition. Summers there were paradise. Not anything like sticky Sacramento. And here he was, disappointing him again.

His father frowned. “Is that true?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Marshall, fiddling with the silverware. “But only by two minutes.” His dad took off his tie and Leila went back to her seat with a smile on her face.

“Thanks a lot,” Marshall hissed at her. “You could’ve waited like ten minutes to tell him. He didn’t need to know right now.”

“I’m just telling the truth,” she whined back. He wondered how long she’d been planning to tell their father.

“You’re such a pain.”

She lowered her eyes, but forgot all about it, when his father noticed the finger painting drawings from that morning. Leila beamed and explained her pictures. Mason came to the table with earphones on.

Marshall scowled at him too.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mason asked, nodding his head to an inaudible beat. Their mother motioned him to take of his earphones. He sighed, but snapped them out of his ears.

Marshall kept quiet. But he should’ve said something, because Leila ended up explaining it again. “Marsh is busted for coming home late this morning.”

“Shut up, Leila.” Marshall felt worse with every passing second. He slumped into his chair.

“Why is this all such a big deal?”
And why now?
Marshall thought. Of all of summer, this was the worst time to have come home late. He had a surprise waiting for him this time.

“Don’t say those words!” his mother said, dishing out mashed potatoes onto Leila’s plate. They came out of the spoon with a splat. No one got to say shut up and get away with it in the house. It was bad form. Instead, they were supposed to tell mom or dad if someone was saying something they shouldn’t.

Yet, somehow, that was never quite as effective as actually spitting out those words into the aggravator’s face. Marshall was glad he’d said it. It was about time she stayed quiet.

But it didn’t last for long. Dinner was loud, as usual. Leila was talking about everything. She could out-talk the whole family, and still be ready to talk again. Mason was trying to
canoodle
a car from dad. Marshall just wanted to evaporate into thin air.

“All I’ll need it something to get to school and back with,” he explained for about the hundredth time. Marshall rolled his eyes. Leila jabbered to her food, and then to herself.