The Secrets of Tree Taylor (23 page)

Penny had come by the pool almost every day since Gary’s birthday. She and I got to talking more and more. It was Sarah who kept us going. She’d cover for me and give me the nudge to go say hey to Penny. I knew my best friend was already looking out for me, trying to make my future Sarah-free school days less miserable.

Thursday, two weeks before the steam engine show and the Fourth of July, I skipped supper and went out to sit with Penny. I’d been checking in on her progress with
To Kill a Mockingbird
. She’d be reading, her back against the fence, and I’d stroll up, clearing my throat so I wouldn’t startle her. But she’d be startled anyways and stare up like she was totally surprised to find me at the pool, and maybe to find herself there too.

Penny looked different than she did in school, prettier, with freckles across a cute little nose. Sarah said Penny looked prettier because I was getting to know her better.

“Still liking the book?” I plopped beside her on her towel.

“I’m loving it, Tree. Can’t decide if I like Scout or Atticus more, but I think Atticus. You know, the trial and injustice—this book could have come straight from the newspapers.”

She went on for five minutes about what was happening in the nation with black people getting their civil rights. She knew all about Martin Luther King, Jr., and Freedom Rides. “In Birmingham, they arrested Dr. King for nothing, Tree! He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know. Dad wrote a letter. To our senators, I think. Maybe to the president.”

“Good for him! I wish I could go on one of those freedom marches. Don’t you?” She turned to me, waiting for an answer.

I’d seen reports of the marches on TV. They usually ended with white policemen turning fire hoses or clubs on the marchers. “Yeah. Kind of.”

Penny kept going. “Did you know that in Kansas City, black children still aren’t allowed to swim in the municipal pools? They have to go to their own pools. And you can bet theirs aren’t half as nice as the pools for whites. It’s not right. And it’s going to change. You’ll see. It’s already changing.”

“I believe you, Penny. You know a heck of a lot more about it than I do.”

“Would
you
let a black person swim in this pool?”

“Sure. I mean, if it were my pool. I don’t really know what the rules are.” I felt like she was accusing me. And maybe I was accusing myself a little because I’d never thought about it before. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a black person ask to swim.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I get carried away.”

“That’s a
good
thing, Pen. Jack says we should all get carried away more, especially about things happening to other
people and not just us.” I was remembering the note I’d found tied to our tamarack the day before. The paper dripped with morning dew, but I could still read the words:

It was from something called
The Halo
, by Bettina Von Hutten.

“Jack’s right,” Penny said, and she went on to talk about segregation in public schools and how claims of equal education were a joke.

I had to wonder who else she got to talk to about this stuff. Karen never seemed to talk to Penny about anything, at least not when I saw them together. And all Chuck did was bark orders at her and call her names. Sarah and I had decided Penny came to the pool to get away from home. We’d only seen her in the water a couple of times, and she wouldn’t be taking home any swimming medals.

“Getting back to
Mockingbird
,” Penny said, closing the book but keeping her finger in her spot, “I love it when Atticus tells Scout, ‘You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view—until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.’ You know, Atticus reminds me of your father.”

“No lie?” Dad got called out to the Atkinson house for Penny’s mother now and then. I thought she got bad headaches. I’d ridden along on some of the house calls, but Dad made me wait in the car.

Penny kept talking, but I couldn’t concentrate. Wanda and her flock of admirers, male and female, were lying out on the other side of the pool. I couldn’t stop sneaking peeks at them, especially when they exploded into laughter or got into shouting matches.

“…  like that time your dad ran over Rolfe.”

That brought me back on full alert. “Rolfe? My dad ran over a Rolfe?”

“Our dog?”

“Not that giant long-haired dog? The one with so much hair in his face, you can’t see his eyes?” I’d seen that dog in their yard when I tagged along on calls. Sometimes the mutt pounced on the car door and scratched to get in.

“I think you’re talking about Rolfe the Second. This was last year, with Rolfe the First. But his hair was in his eyes too. Maybe that’s why he ran in front of your dad’s car.”

“Penny, I didn’t know anything about it! Why didn’t you—or Dad—say something?” But I knew why my dad wouldn’t have said anything. For the same reason he tried to get birds out of the car grill before Eileen and I could see they’d been smashed there. For the same reason I couldn’t talk to him about the Kinneys. For the same stupid reason I already knew I wouldn’t be asking him about Rolfe or letting him know I knew.

Secrets.

“I didn’t say anything to you at school because I figured you already knew,” Penny explained. “And anyway, I felt weird. It wasn’t your dad’s fault at all, and he felt so bad about it, Tree. Anybody else, except maybe Atticus, would have kept on
driving and not looked back. But not your dad. You should have seen him carrying that dog up to the house in his arms.

“He worked on Rolfe for an hour before he died. Your dad cried when he told us Rolfe was gone. He buried him that night—dug the hole himself. Mom and Karen and I kept telling him that Rolfe ran out in front of cars all the time, no matter what we did to get him to stop. The dog was dumb as dirt. It happened late at night—I think your dad had been seeing somebody at Cameron Hospital. He wasn’t driving fast. Rolfe just shot out of nowhere.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m … I’m sorry.” I thought about Midge. Lately, I hadn’t been paying enough attention to her. I didn’t know what I’d do if Midge ever got run over.

“Ed, my stepfather, came home the next day. All he could talk about was trying to get money out of your dad. Mom had to talk him out of suing. It was nuts. Ed hates dogs, especially Rolfe.” She shook her head, and her whole face changed.

“Two days later your dad walked up to our house with Rolfe the Second. I don’t know where he found a dog that looked so much like Rolfe the First. I do know that he must have gone to Kansas City for him. This Rolfe isn’t a mutt like the other one. He’s smart and a purebred. That was pretty classy of your dad. He didn’t have to do that.”

And I’d had zero idea anything was going on.

Chuck strolled up to us. Penny’s back was to him.

“There’s your brother, Penny.”

Penny’s body stiffened. “He’s not my brother, Tree.”

“Hey, gals! What’s happening?” Chuck stopped beside our towel. He towered over us, blocking out the sun. He was
wearing shades, so I couldn’t see his eyes. “So, basketgirl, shouldn’t you get back to work in your basket room?” He reached down and took my arm, like he was about to pull me to my feet.

Penny shot up off her towel like a missile from a launch-pad. “Get away from her!”

Two seventh graders sunning a few feet from us turned around.

“Penny?” I looked from her to Chuck and back. “It’s okay.” Chuck had already moved his hand away.

“No!” Penny screamed. “It’s
not
okay.”

Chuck held up his arms, palms toward us. “Touchy, aren’t we, Penelope?” He backed away, chuckling to himself.

Penny snatched up her towel and headed for the locker room.

Sarah walked up behind me. “That Chuck guy is really starting to creep me out.”

On Saturday I pulled out my bike and discovered I had a flat. Great. I’d probably be late for work.

I set out on foot. As I got close to the pool, I heard shouts and laughter. A crowd had gathered along the wire fence. Kids pointed. Adults howled. I pushed through them to see what was so funny.

There, in the deepest part of the pool, was Officer Duper’s sign:
FOR POLICE DEPARTMENT VEHICLES ONLY, BY ORDER OF OFFICER DUPER
.

Ray came up behind me. “Isn’t that too cool!” He put his hands on my shoulders, and I felt it all the way down to my toes.

Wayne shuffled up beside Ray. “I guess this was the final straw. Officer Duper is no more. He quit this morning.”

“Perfect timing!” Ray cracked up, removing his hands from my shoulders. “Sheriff Robinson got back with a string of bass today. Looks like he’ll be staying on another fifty years.”

Nobody around us was complaining. In his brief term as sheriff, Officer Duper had given out more tickets than Sheriff Robinson had in fifty years. I felt pretty sure that everybody in town knew they had Jack to thank for the send-off, even though nobody ever said so, including Jack.

Penny showed up at the basket counter in the afternoon, acting as if she hadn’t left in such a weird way last time.

I played along. I didn’t want to set her off again. I took her basket without looking at her. “So, did you finish the book yet?”

“Stayed up all night. No wonder it’s your favorite book, Tree. Mine too now. I’m starting my first Agatha Christie mystery. Got it from the library this morning.” She pulled the book from her basket.
“The Murder of Roger—”

“Ackroyd!”
I finished for her.

“Heard of it?”

“I’m rereading it right now.”

“Maybe we can talk about this one too, then.”

“And I promise not to give away the ending. I think it’s her best.”

Someone behind Penny cleared her throat on purpose. Wanda.

“See you later,” Penny said, heading for her reading spot.

Wanda, clad in her bikini, set her basket onto the counter but didn’t let go. “So, how are you, Tree?”

“Great.”

“I saw you at the drive-in the other night. We had a blast! Your parents took you, right? That’s so sweet.”

“I’m pretty busy right now, Wanda.” We both had our hands on her basket.

“One more thing. Aunt Edna and I have been talking about our plans for the
Blue and Gold
next year. I’m thinking about reporting on the steam engine show.”

“Really? Me too.”

“Why would you write about it?” Wanda scrunched up her nose, trying to look puzzled.

“Because it’s a free country, Wanda. And Mrs. Woolsey can’t pick her staff until school starts.”

“Tree, Tree, Tree,” she said, making that
tut-tut
noise with her tongue. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She let go of the basket, then grabbed it again when I tried to take it. “I almost forgot. If Ray shows up, tell him I’ll be at our spot by the pool, waiting for him.”

A fresh wave of determination rose from “the inner workings” of my “very soul.” Wanda was not going to get to me. I would write that report on the Steam and Gas Engine Show. But I’d write the Kinney article too. And not just for the school paper. I was writing it for the
Hamiltonian
. Wanda had never been published in the town newspaper.

We got so busy at the pool that I couldn’t even break free to check on Penny until late in the day. Every now and then, I peeked out to make sure she hadn’t gone home. I felt like I needed to keep an eye on her, the way I did on the Cozad kids, even though their mother hated me.

Finally, the crowd thinned. Penny and I plopped onto her towel and talked about Agatha Christie mysteries until almost
nine. With five minutes left to closing, I got ready for my official countdown. I glanced out to the road, and I thought I saw Chuck driving by. Penny either didn’t see him or pretended not to. I just hoped he’d keep on driving.

But no such luck. A minute later, he strutted out from the locker room.

“I can’t believe he’s here,” Penny said through clenched teeth.

I was getting bad vibes again. “Why would he come swimming for only a few minutes? He doesn’t have a season ticket. D.J. will make him pay full price.” D.J. bent the rules for his buddies, but he didn’t like Chuck any better than Jack did.

“He thinks he can make me ride home with him,” Penny muttered.

It was a weird thing to say. Penny walked to and from the pool, although she lived farther out than I did. I’d sure take a ride home if somebody offered one.

I watched as Chuck climbed the high dive and jumped. He surfaced, then dog-paddled the length of the pool. When he pulled himself out of the water, he stood up straight and beat on his chest, like King Kong. Then he let out a victory yell before strutting over to us.

“Woo-hoo!” He stood above us, dripping water onto Penny’s towel. “That felt good, ladies! Mouse, how’d you like to go off the high dive?”

Penny’s eyes grew wide. She scooted away from him a couple of inches, like this was a threat.

“No? That’s right—I forgot. The mouse always chooses to go back into its hole.” He turned to me. “You look like you
could use a nice cool dip.” He reached down and grabbed me like he meant to toss me into the pool.

Penny jumped up and attacked. “Get your dirty hands off of her! You’re nothing but a big bully!” She hit him, her tiny hands slamming his wrists and clawing his arms.

Chuck let me down. He glared at Penny. “You don’t tell
me
what to do. I tell
you
what to do. Got it?”

His icy voice gave me chills.

Then, as if he only now remembered I was there, he backed off, like he’d been kidding, like it was some big joke. “Take it easy! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Only he did. My skin still felt the press of his fingers through to my bones. Hard. I couldn’t have gotten away from him if it hadn’t been for Penny. I had a flashback—Chuck shoving Penny in our Capture the Flag game. Chuck calling her the kind of names that would tear a person down if she heard them every day.

And in that instant, I knew. No wonder she seemed scared all the time. This wasn’t an ordinary brother-and-sister feud. Penny and her brother—her stepbrother—had a secret. I’d seen it—the hopelessness, the fear—packed into every inch of Penny’s body.