Alibi Junior High Page 2

  Jenny looks over at me. “Bad dream?”

  I try to shake the images out of my head. “Yeah, real bad.”

  “I’m sorry, but look, we’re almost home. See? Here’s my street.”

  We pull onto a street lined with a mix of houses small and large, and tons of American flags. There’s a large flag at least every twenty feet. I guess I don’t have to worry about forgetting what country I’m living in.

  Jenny slows down the Jeep in front of a large yellow house. There’s a huge banner outside with bold black letters that reads welcome home. There must be about thirty people outside, waiting.

  We pull into the driveway and I look over at Jenny. She must be able to read my eyes.

  “Oh no, Cody. I’m sorry, no. This isn’t for you. We live in the cottage out back. Oh, I really should have warned you. I just forgot. My neighbor’s son Andy is getting back from Iraq today. Well, actually the hospital, but today’s his first day home.”

  I feel incredibly stupid for thinking that all this might be for me. I look away from Jenny. I’m sure my face must be red. Why would all these people be waiting to see me, anyway? I want to say something clever to keep from feeling so foolish but nothing comes to me.

  We stop at the end of the driveway, and we’re right in the middle of the group. I don’t like being boxed in by people but I tell myself to relax. It feels like a Fourth of July party, someone’s even cooking hot dogs and hamburgers. My stomach growls; I guess I’m hungrier than I thought. I get out of the Jeep and Jenny joins me. She waves to a woman in a bright red dress. “So, Beth, today’s the big day, huh?”

  The large woman hurries over to the Jeep.

  “Oh, you know it, Jen! I’m so nervous and excited; it’s been so long, he wouldn’t let me visit him at the hospital. I can’t believe my boy’s finally coming home.”

  “That’s fantastic. Oh, and by the way—” She places a hand on my shoulder. “—this is my nephew Cody, the one I’ve been talking about all week. Cody, this is Mrs. Wheeler.”

  She sends a big smile my way. “Well, Cody, it’s so nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you. I’m sure you’re going to love our little town. I have a son your age, Albert, he’s around here somewhere.”

  She scans the crowd and spots him. “Albie! Come over here for a second. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  I look over by the garage and see this really small blond-haired guy. He might be my age but he looks like he could be three years younger. He’s wearing baggy jeans and a faded New York Mets T-shirt, and he’s talking into a cell phone.

  He looks over, suddenly very excited, then he starts jumping up and down and shouting, “Ma! He’s coming! He’s coming! He just pulled into the street!”

  Mrs. Wheeler puts out her hand and steadies herself against the roof of the Jeep. I thought she’d be jumping up and down like Albert but she looks like she’s about to faint. “Oh, I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it, my baby’s finally coming home. My baby.”

  Music starts blasting from speakers propped up in one of the windows. It’s an old dance-type song that I’ve heard before, it goes, “Celebrate good times, come on!”

  Someone at the end of the driveway yells, “I can see him! I see him! Here he comes!”

  Everyone starts cheering; a few people grab welcome home! signs that I hadn’t seen and start dancing around with them. Some kids light sparklers; they flicker like large birthday candles.

  A black Suburban with tinted windows pulls into the driveway and slowly inches toward us before parking by the garage; a couple of guys start drumming on the side of the car. The cheering grows louder.

  A chant of “Andy, Andy, Andy!” starts, and soon everyone’s chanting along. I don’t even know the guy but I feel a surge of excitement.

  The passenger door opens and a tall guy eases out of the car. His broad shoulders strain his uniform and he’s squinting against the bright sunlight. His left arm is missing and the sleeve of his jacket is pinned up to his shoulder.

  Mrs. Wheeler starts crying and runs to him. The crowd parts, and Andy turns and holds out his one arm. His mother falls against his chest and wraps her large arms around him. She sobs, “Oh, my sweet baby! My baby’s home, my beautiful baby’s finally home.”

  I look over at Jenny. She’s wiping a tear away from her eye.

  Andy yells over his mother’s shoulder, “Where’s my Albie? Albie, where are you?”

  I look over by the corner of the garage and I see the little guy still standing there. He seems scared. The crowd starts pushing him toward his older brother. Andy yells, “Hey, little hero! What are you doing over there?”

  Albert finally makes up his mind and runs to his brother, throwing his arms around him. “Andy, you’re home! You’re really, really home. I don’t believe it.”

  “Believe it, buddy. I promised you I’d be back, and I don’t break my promises.”

  “Don’t go away again. Don’t you ever go away again. Will you promise me that?”

  “Yeah, little hero. I promise. No more wars for me.”

  “I missed you so much. I prayed every night that you’d come home.”

  “I missed you too.”

  Albert shifts from one foot to the other. “Sorry about your arm.”

  “Well, guess what—so am I. But you know what? They tell me they’re going to give me a new one. The best money can buy.”

  Andy starts to work the crowd, shaking hands and joking with old friends. Jenny pats me on the shoulder.

  “Why don’t I show you the cottage and get you settled in? I’ll introduce you to Andy when things calm down a bit.”

  I grab my bags and follow her across the driveway. The music’s still blasting and everyone’s having a great time. I glance over at Andy and we make eye contact. He gives me a little nod; I’m about to nod back when I hear gunfire, three quick pops.

  I drop to the driveway; the asphalt digs into the palms of my hands. I hear more and more pops. I look toward the sound and realize it’s just a couple of kids setting off a pack of firecrackers. I push myself off the driveway, embarrassed and humiliated. People are looking at me. Jenny reaches down to help me up.

  Andy’s being helped off the ground, too. His mother and Albert are pulling him to his feet. We make eye contact again, only this time it’s not a hello.

  It’s recognition.

  SHADOWS AND STARS

  I hate sleep. It lies to me, it makes its promise, and then where does it go? It leaves me here, twisting all alone in the darkness.

  I’m out of my bed again, out of my bed before I go out of my mind. If I have to be restless I’d rather it be under the stars than under my sheets. I slip out the side door and into the shadows, a new raccoon with a kitchen knife for claws, roaming the night.

  I move slowly and silently, like walking through sand on the beach. At first I keep close to the cottage, always trying to blend in with the surroundings, always listening for anything unusual. Later I move farther outward in a large loop through the woods.

  I can’t shake this feeling that I’m being watched. It’s what’s been keeping me up at night. I lie in bed and sense there’s someone out in the darkness studying me, searching for a weakness, looking for an opening just like my father and I have done so many times before.

  It’s been like this for the whole week. Every night I can’t sleep until I walk my loop. When I’m satisfied there’s nobody watching me I slip back into the cottage and finally fall asleep. Jenny can’t understand why I always look so tired in the mornings.

  I had hoped that tonight would be different and I’d be able to fall right to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be my first day of school. I’ve been trying to delay it for as long as possible, building this little sand castle of independence, but Jenny insists and I know she’s right.

  We’ve had a good week together; it almost felt like a vacation. She’s been great, helping me settle in, picking out clothes, and letting me set up my
room so it feels like mine. This is the first time I’ve ever had a room of my own. It’s nice, really nice. I’m not sure what I’m going to put up on the walls but I’ll figure it out soon.

  I’m surprised how comfortable I feel with Aunt Jenny. We sit together at night and read. Sometimes I’ll look over the top of my book and study her face, her expressions, the movements of her hands and I’ll wonder, How much of my mother does she share? I have no memories of my mother. Her face might as well have been a watercolor left out in the rain, washed off to white.

  I’ve completed the loop through the woods and I’m about to head through the tall hedges by the street. It’s easy to slip through them; it gives me a great view of the main house, driveway, street, and the front of our cottage out back.

  Snap.

  What’s that? I stand perfectly still; I even hold my breath. I know I heard something. I inch my back up against a tree. I try to blend in with it, to become part of it.

  Time stretches on. I can hear the trees creaking gently in the breeze and an owl hooting from someplace deep in the woods. I hear a distant train blowing its whistle; it’s a lonely, sad sound that makes me shudder.

  Maybe it was nothing, a falling pinecone or something like that. Still, I wait, and when I think I’ve waited long enough, I wait some more.

  Crackle.

  I’m positive I heard something that time and it’s close, maybe twenty feet to my right. I squat down and slide the kitchen knife out of my back pocket. My heart is pounding and I’m struggling to control my breathing.

  Snap.

  It’s getting closer. Maybe it’s an animal, a cat, a dog, or even something wild. Always expect the worst; always be prepared.

  I look around me. Dad told me if you don’t have what you want, work with what you have. I can’t find anything useful as an added weapon, but I notice a thick, low bush. I lie on my stomach and silently slither under it; the branches scratch my back but allow me just enough room to fully conceal myself.

  The dirt is damp and smells like worms. I have a handful of wet leaves down the front of my shirt. They scratch and itch but I don’t dare try to remove them; it might make noise. I’m alert but I’ve begun to relax a little. If someone’s looking for me they’ll only find me if I move.

  I wait.

  I wish I could see my watch. How long have I been hiding? It feels like hours. I’m sure it hasn’t been, but it feels like it. What if I didn’t really hear anything? What if it was just my imagination, or maybe it was a cat. Should I just crawl out and move real quietly back to the cottage?

  Snap…crack…snap.

  Someone’s walking this way and they’re not even trying to be quiet anymore. They’re getting closer. I peer out from under the bush. My heart starts to pound again and I struggle to control my breathing.

  I see a pair of black boots approaching. They look like they’re just going to walk past, but they stop by the tree that I’d been leaning against. A man squats down and checks the ground. I think he’s found something, maybe a footprint.

  He looks my way; I grip my knife tighter. I can’t make out who it is until he moves slightly and the moonlight falls across his face. He looks real familiar. Then I notice the missing arm.

  It’s Andy.

  He stands up and starts to walk away, but stops. His voice cuts through the silence. Even though it’s at a volume that wouldn’t be out of place in a library, it sounds like a shout.

  “Cody, I’m impressed. I’m not sure if you’re here or gone or, come to think about it, if you were ever here at all, but if you can hear me, we should talk.”

  I watch his dark form slowly walk back to the main house, open a side door a few inches, and slide inside.

  PANCAKES AND BAD PENNIES

  “Cody, didn’t you set your alarm?”

  “Huh?”

  Jenny switches to a singsong voice. “Co…dee! Wake…uuuup!”

  “Letmesleep.”

  “You’re going to be late. Come on, it’s your first day of school.”

  “I’llstarttomorrow.”

  She sits on my bed and the mattress sinks from the weight of her body. “Come on. It’s time to get ready.”

  I slowly open my eyes. They feel like they’ve been pasted shut. I blink them a few times before I manage to keep them open but it’s a struggle. Jenny’s looking at me, smiling, and then her expression changes, suddenly alarmed.

  “Cody, you’re a mess! You’re all scratched up and covered in dirt! What’s going on?”

  It all comes rushing back to me: hiding under the bush, sneaking into the cottage, doing my best to quietly clean up in the bathroom without turning on the lights or running the water. Being so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. My plan was to wake up before Jenny and take a shower.

  What a way to start the day. I don’t think I’ll be able to talk myself out of this one. Sleepwalking? Nah, that wouldn’t fly. I guess I should try to dance as close to the truth as possible.

  “I couldn’t sleep, so I went out for a walk.”

  “You went out for a walk?”

  “Yes.”

  She looks skeptical. “It’s obvious you went out. What I want to know is why. And don’t tell me it’s because you couldn’t sleep.”

  I might as well tell her. “I kept getting this feeling that someone was watching us. I had to make sure no one was out there.”

  “So you just marched out there? That sounds like a great plan. What if someone was watching us?”

  “I was careful. Nobody can see me if I don’t want them to.”

  “Cody, that was stupid. No more. If anything happens to you your dad will kill me. From now on you don’t leave this house at night without my permission. You hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  “I still don’t understand how you got covered in dirt.”

  I lean forward. “Turns out there was someone out there. I had to hide under a bush.”

  Jenny glances toward the window. “You mean someone’s watching us?”

  “I’m not sure. No, I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

  “Cody, I’m confused.” She runs her hands through her hair. “Was there or wasn’t there someone outside last night?”

  “There was.”

  “Well, who was it?”

  “Andy.”

  “Our neighbor? He’s watching us?”

  “No, I don’t think he’s watching us. I think we both just happened to be outside. It was weird.” I think about the way he moved quietly around me. “He’s really good, too.”

  Jenny stands up and walks to my window. “Cody, the guy’s an Army Ranger, he’s spent the last six years in Special Ops, of course he’s good.” She shakes her head. “Sneaking around in the middle of the night like that—you’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed. What were you thinking? No more. You hear me? No more.”

  “Okay, I hear you.”

  “I hope so. Now, get yourself ready for school. You’re running late.”

  I take a shower and get dressed.

  I join Jenny in the kitchen. She’s making pancakes. I forgot how good pancakes smell. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had them. I think it was about a year ago at that little place in Switzerland.

  She gives me an approving nod. “Well, you’re looking better.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Hungry? Want some pancakes?”

  “Definitely.”

  She brings two tall stacks to the kitchen table and we attack them. I guess we were both hungry. Jenny keeps shoveling pancakes into her mouth but it doesn’t stop her from talking. “So, you nervous?”

  “About Andy or my dad?”

  “About school. After all, you’ve never been to a real school before. I know your dad’s done a fantastic job teaching you, but this is going to be different.”

  I shake my head and almost laugh. “School? Why should I be nervous about school? Thanks to Dad my English and math skills are on a college level. I speak five di
fferent languages. I have two black belts. I’ve been to every corner of the globe and I’ve been in more dangerous situations in any given month than most of those kids have been in their whole lives.”

  I give her a dismissive wave. “Trust me. Going to school with a bunch of small-town kids is not something I’m worrying about right now.”

  Am I standing at the right corner? Jenny said the bus stops at the end of the street. This is the end of the street, right? I check my watch again. I’m not early; I’m right on time. Shouldn’t there be other kids here by now? What if I missed the bus? What if it came early?

  Wait, here comes somebody.

  It’s a girl—cute, with long black hair and strange clothes. She’s loudly chattering away on her cell phone. It’s like listening to a truck full of broken dishes driving down a dirt road.

  She stops and stands about ten feet away from me and continues ranting into her phone, complaining about some guy she met and how he used to talk to her but now he doesn’t and she thinks this girl named Penny, who she calls ‘Bad Penny,’ had something to do with it because apparently she’s responsible for everything that goes wrong with this girl’s life, and she hates her, she really does, she just hates her.

  We make eye contact and I blurt out, “Hi.” But she doesn’t say anything to me, she just continues talking into her phone. It makes me feel incredibly stupid for saying anything to her and annoyed that she couldn’t have at least said hi back to me.

  She glances my way again.

  “I take back the ‘hi.’”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I take back the ‘hi.’”

  “What’s your problem?”

  “Normally when someone says ‘Hi,’ the proper response in return is ‘Hi.’ I said ‘Hi,’ you didn’t say ‘Hi’ in return, so I’m taking my ‘Hi’ back.”

  “Okay, you want a ‘Hi’?…Hi…. Are you happy now? What a twisted psycho. Just leave me alone…loser.”

  She cups her hand over her phone, walks farther away, and starts talking about me in a hushed voice. Each word that I overhear somehow makes me feel like I’m evaporating bit by bit.