five minutes to tuck you in.”
He looked up in time to catch that scared
expression again, which bothered him. Moms weren’t supposed to be
scared of anything—except their babies failin’ and breakin’ their
necks.
“You’re lucky Mr. Stark didn’t call the
police instead of bringing you home when you broke into his
house.”
‘‘I didn’t break anything. Except this—” He
held up his cast. “The door was open.”
“You knew it was wrong, didn’t you? Just
walking into a stranger’s house as if it were yours?”
“I figured he was undead. The rules are
different then.”
“Why...?” She shook her head. “Never mind, I
really don’t want to know why. Just don’t go there again.
Understand?”
She left the room without waiting for his
answer. Which was good, because he wasn’t going to give her one. If
she could ignore questions, then so could he.
Max had to see Garrett Stark again. Even if
he did end up grounded for life.
Chapter 7
Again turned out to be the next day. Usually
school sucked and Max hated it. But after breaking his arm he’d
been a hero with his tales of the cemetery followed by a trip to X
ray.
Just showed how much difference a day could
make. One day a hero and the next he was back to being weird Max,
the wussy, or any one of a hundred other names. Kids were mean, and
some were meaner than others.
Someday he’d be bigger and stronger and
smarter than all of them, and then they’d be sorry. Unfortunately,
not today.
Even his teacher spoke sharply. “Max, quit
wool-gathering. I’m over here!”
All the other kids snickered. Max gathered a
lot of wool. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what was going on
in class. It was just that what was going on in his head was a
whole lot better.
When lunch recess came and Sammy, his best
and only friend, snapped, “The only reason you got that cast anyway
is ’cause you’re such a spasmoid,” Max decided he needed school as
much as he needed bigger feet.
He walked off the playground when no one was
looking and went to make a new best friend.
* * *
The un-book was better than ever.
After Garrett perused his single page, he lit
a ceremonial fire, and as it burned he contemplated dancing around
the ashtray. If he thought dancing would help, he’d do it. But not
even the usual rituals worked these days, so why start a new
one?
The only thing that did help was Max, and
Garrett figured he had as much chance of seeing his son as he had
of finishing the book on time. But he left the back door open
anyway, just in case. After all, the kid seemed to have a knack for
turning up exactly where he wasn’t supposed to be.
Garrett wandered into the dining room. He’d
planned to burn the coffin, or at the very least haul it outside
and chop the thing into firewood. But when he put his hands on the
wood, he suddenly had the first good idea he’d had in days.
A tablecloth and a vase would make Andrew’s
joke into Garrett’s. He still needed to figure out suitable
retaliation for this “gift,” but pretending the coffin was a table
would be fun. Andrew was so single- minded, he probably wouldn’t
get it, which would only make things funnier for Garrett.
As if on cue, the phone rang. Sometimes
Andrew could be downright spooky, and he didn’t even try.
The phone had been ringing on the hour since
8:00 a.m. that morning. His agent was getting nervous. Garrett had
no doubt that sooner rather than later he’d have a houseguest he
didn’t want. What better way to greet Andrew than with a coffee
table that doubled as an eternal resting place? Garrett was going
to need the latter as soon as Andrew found out the truth,
anyway.
He started laughing, and then he couldn’t
stop. Hysteria did that to a fellow. Maybe if he hid inside the
coffin, Andrew would never find him.
Garrett stopped laughing and swiped at his
eyes. That wasn’t a half-bad idea. Not the hiding, but the getting
inside.
New places and new experiences often
Nancy Thayer
Faith Bleasdale
JoAnn Carter
M.G. Vassanji
Neely Tucker
Stella Knightley
Linda Thomas-Sundstrom
James Hamilton-Paterson
Ellen Airgood
Alma Alexander