Part 12 (2/2)

I had come around to thinking that Mr. Spiro was the only person I could talk to about my father not being the man who made me with my mother. I had planned on asking him if I could still visit him each week even after I was done filling in on the route. And now Mr. Spiro was packing a bag on me.

I put down check marks in the collection book at each house but my marks weren't as neat as they had been at the start of July. If Rat didn't care about throwing papers the right way or keeping his route book neat then I didn't care either. I had thought that my last Friday night would be my best night but it wasn't working out that way.

At Mrs. Worthington's house the driveway was empty but the porch light was on which made me think she might be waiting for me. I wanted to talk to her one last time or maybe not talk so much as look at her again up close.

As I reached the top step I saw a white envelope clothespinned to the screen door. Written on the outside of the envelope in a nice hand was the word Paperboy. My hands were shaky like just before throwing the first pitch of a game because I had the feeling that whatever was in the envelope would either be All-The-Way Good or All-The-Way Bad.

I didn't have my knife to slit the envelope so I sat down on the porch swing and opened it as neat as I could with my fingers.

A five-dollar bill was folded around a note written in a woman's curvy hand with big loops on the capital letters.

Please cancel our newspaper. This should cover what we owe.

Thank you for your excellent service.

1396 Harbert I put the note in the collection book and the five-dollar bill in my back pocket.

All the grown-ups around me were making things hard for me all at once like they had gotten together and planned it.

Before I could think what I was doing my finger pushed Mrs. Worthington's doorbell. The chimes gave me a start when I heard them and I jerked my hand away. My feet wanted to run but I needed to see Mrs. Worthington. I rang the doorbell again. No lights came on inside. The house was dark and quiet.

I sat down on the porch swing and looked at Mrs. Worthington's note again. Her handwriting was nice with even s.p.a.cing between the words and the sentences didn't go uphill or downhill even though there weren't any lines on the paper. I had the feeling that she had taken a lot of time writing the note but I knew it wasn't really what she wanted to say to me. I think she was apologizing for inviting me into her house. She was disguising what she wanted to say just like Mr. Voltaire said.

I got up from the swing and started home.

Halfway home I picked up a good throwing rock. There were plenty of gla.s.s streetlamps s.h.i.+ning at me. The fat lights made good targets and I could feel my arm getting ready to haul off and bust one and make the gla.s.s come down like rain but there was also the Man in the Moon peeking out through the clouds and the heat. The Man in the Moon was giving me a suck-egg smile.

I threw the rock at the moon. As hard as I could throw. I found another rock. And another one. I threw so many rocks that I was out of breath and my arm was hurting.

The Man in the Moon was still smiling and laughing at the boy way down below who thought he could hit the moon with a rock.

Chapter Sixteen.

When I started up the driveway to my house my head finally got back to the business of the paper route.

Rat's mother was expecting me to come by with the collections so Rat could pay his monthly newspaper bill when he returned the next day. I hadn't collected Mr. Spiro's money yet so I needed change to make up the difference. I also needed some money to pay for the bags Ara T had stolen. I could have used Mrs. Worthington's five-dollar bill but I wanted to keep it in my pocket a little longer.

Mam was stirring a pot on the stove. The kitchen was sticky hot even at seven o'clock at night.

s-s-s-s-Need to get some s-s-s-s-change. s-s-s-s-Going to Rat's and s-s-s-s-then I'll s-s-s-s-be back to eat.

I was using Gentle Air to beat the band. It was the only way I could get my words out with my head dancing around so much. Mam looked at me.

Everything okay, Little Man?

s-s-s-s-Just tired of the s-s-s-s-p ... s-s-s-s-Tired of the route.

You hurry and gets your change and then get on back from Mr. Rat's 'fore dark.

I was so out of sorts I didn't even look to see what Mam was cooking.

The best breeze in the house late in the day was on the back stairs when the attic fan sucked the air up the dark stairway.

I sat down on the landing and switched my thinking to Mr. Spiro. His packed duffel bag was stuck in my head. I still couldn't believe he was leaving on his trip. I wanted to ask him questions about my Unknown father and hear him talk about his books and things he had seen while he was traveling around the seven continents. Everything he talked about was new and soap-clean. And he was going away on a towboat for more adventures and I was stuck in this hot stove of a city with only Rat who would tell about what a great time he had on the farm and how many dirt-clod fights he had with his cousins and how he wished I had been there to help him.

I was glad for Rat but all the work I had done on the paper route for the month had left me with nothing but three words on a cut-up dollar bill. I did want to know what the fourth word was so I hurried on up the stairs. I knew Mam was still worrying about her Haints and she wouldn't let me leave the house after dark.

The curtains in my room blew toward me as I walked down the hall but even with the fresh air coming in the room I could tell that the smell wasn't right.

My room was all out of whack. The drawers under both of my twin beds were pulled out. That didn't make any sense because the only stuff in them was blankets and sheets and winter clothes. The next thing I saw was the chair pulled away from my desk and all the drawers hanging open. Mam had taught me never to leave drawers open. Especially the middle drawer with all of my money in it. It was pulled out so far that it was tipping down in front.

A bad feeling came over me like it did at school when the books under my desk were not in the same order I had left them.

The money was gone from the drawer. All of it. My billfold and my wrist.w.a.tch too. The air from the attic fan coming through the window was hot but I let it blow over me until I could get what had happened in my room straightened out in my head.

When I went to the top of the stairs and yelled for Mam she heard something in my voice more than just my words because she came up the stairs two at a time. We ran down the hall together.

s-s-s-s-Gone. s-s-s-s-Money's gone.

Mam stopped in the middle of the room and breathed heavy.

Even though her nose was busted. Even though my mother's mothb.a.l.l.s from the attic smelled. Even though the air coming through the window was new and hot. Mam smelled the same rotten smell I did. Ara T.

Mam went to the desk and jerked it away from the window like it was made out of model-airplane wood. She leaned out the window and looked at the flat roof.

Did you leave that ladder up?

I nodded.

When I s-s-s-s-got my s-s-s-s-ball yesterday.

Mam pulled her head in and jerked the window down so hard that the weights on the ropes banged inside the wall.

Mam untied her ap.r.o.n while she walked down the hall. She may have been walking but I had to run to catch up with her. She draped the ap.r.o.n on the post at the bottom of the stairs which was the first time I had ever seen it not hanging in its place on the back of the pantry door.

I can't leave you here, Little Man. You get right on up to Mr. Rat's house and wait for me there.

She looked at me for a nod.

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