all night.”
“Nasty,” I said.
“I have to help spread poison around at lights-out. Then I get to wake up early and scrape up the suckers that ate it.”
I looked at his bandage. “One-handed?”
“There’s this scoop thing. Opens up when you step on it, then you kick the bodies in.”
“Pretend they’re Santangelo,” I said.
“Or maybe Pete.”
“Aw, come on, the guy seems pretty decent.”
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“Guess ol’ Wiesner called it right, then.”
“Called what right?”
“How Pete’s got you all over weak and swoony for those blond curls,” Mooney said.
“Wiesner’s an idiot.”
“Poor boy’s jealous.” Mooney popped a cheek with the tip of his tongue, grinning.
“Oh, great .”
“Still and all, you might wanna watch out for Goldilocks,”
he said. “Word is, him and Santangelo are all buddy-buddy—
like from back in college and shit.”
“No way they’re the same age,” I said. “College?”
The kitchen door started swinging outward.
Mooney snatched up Caged Bird before Dhumavati had so much as a toe across the threshold. He looked for all the world like he couldn’t get enough of Maya Angelou’s death-less prose.
I felt his knee nudge mine under the table.
“Might wanna watch out for Wiesner while you’re at it,” he sotto-voced.
Dhumavati was eyeing us, so I poked a fi nger at some random paragraph in his book.
“Who was Joe Louis?” I said, loud enough for her to hear. “A famous boxer. They called him the Brown Bomber.”
“Just keep wearing those big sweaters,” Mooney mumbled.
“Wiesner’d get nasty with a dead goat if he found it alone in the showers.”
Dhumavati looked at Pete. “What’ve we got for time?”
He checked his watch. “Ten after fi ve already.”
“Who’s on night shift?” she asked.
“Gerald and Cammy. Guess they’re running a little late.”
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She smiled at him. “Why don’t you and Madeline go on ahead, start enjoying the weekend? I’ll cover until they get here.”
Mooney coughed into his bandaged hand as I stood up, and I could’ve sworn it sounded like “watch out.”
Dhumavati walked me and Pete to the front door and shooed us outside.
I let him go fi rst, then paused in the doorway, turning back to her. “I hope tomorrow goes okay.”
“Thank you,” she said.
I remembered my promise to Mooney. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Fire away.”
I dropped my voice. “It’s Fay’s birthday on Tuesday. I’m hoping we could bring her a cake?”
“Of course,” she said. “You see? That’s exactly the kind of compassion I’ve been talking about.”
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15
Pete and I started trudging back up toward campus.
“Long day,” he said. “Lulu asked me over for coffee. Want to join us?”
“I’ve gotta get home, but tell her hey for me.”
“I hear she’s got a clandestine stash of caffeinated.”
“High-test,” I said, a little worried that she’d let him in on the secret, given Mooney’s warning.
“Can’t beat that with a stick.” Pete rubbed his hands together, fl ashing me a grin of anticipation. “I’m sick of drinking David’s crappy decaf.”
“Aren’t you fancy with the schmancy, calling him David already,” I said. “How long have you been here, a week?”
“That’s what he asked me to call him when he interviewed me.”
“So how’d you end up at this place?” I asked.
“A friend told me about what David was doing here. He said this might be a good place for me at the moment. I fi gured it was worth a shot.”
“Had you met Santangelo beforehand?”
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“We all went to the same college. David graduated a few years before I showed up there.”
“Only a few? How old are you?”
“Okay, maybe he graduated ten years before I got there,” he said. “I don’t
“Nasty,” I said.
“I have to help spread poison around at lights-out. Then I get to wake up early and scrape up the suckers that ate it.”
I looked at his bandage. “One-handed?”
“There’s this scoop thing. Opens up when you step on it, then you kick the bodies in.”
“Pretend they’re Santangelo,” I said.
“Or maybe Pete.”
“Aw, come on, the guy seems pretty decent.”
9 7
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 97
28/5/08 2:44:25 PM
“Guess ol’ Wiesner called it right, then.”
“Called what right?”
“How Pete’s got you all over weak and swoony for those blond curls,” Mooney said.
“Wiesner’s an idiot.”
“Poor boy’s jealous.” Mooney popped a cheek with the tip of his tongue, grinning.
“Oh, great .”
“Still and all, you might wanna watch out for Goldilocks,”
he said. “Word is, him and Santangelo are all buddy-buddy—
like from back in college and shit.”
“No way they’re the same age,” I said. “College?”
The kitchen door started swinging outward.
Mooney snatched up Caged Bird before Dhumavati had so much as a toe across the threshold. He looked for all the world like he couldn’t get enough of Maya Angelou’s death-less prose.
I felt his knee nudge mine under the table.
“Might wanna watch out for Wiesner while you’re at it,” he sotto-voced.
Dhumavati was eyeing us, so I poked a fi nger at some random paragraph in his book.
“Who was Joe Louis?” I said, loud enough for her to hear. “A famous boxer. They called him the Brown Bomber.”
“Just keep wearing those big sweaters,” Mooney mumbled.
“Wiesner’d get nasty with a dead goat if he found it alone in the showers.”
Dhumavati looked at Pete. “What’ve we got for time?”
He checked his watch. “Ten after fi ve already.”
“Who’s on night shift?” she asked.
“Gerald and Cammy. Guess they’re running a little late.”
9 8
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 98
28/5/08 2:44:25 PM
She smiled at him. “Why don’t you and Madeline go on ahead, start enjoying the weekend? I’ll cover until they get here.”
Mooney coughed into his bandaged hand as I stood up, and I could’ve sworn it sounded like “watch out.”
Dhumavati walked me and Pete to the front door and shooed us outside.
I let him go fi rst, then paused in the doorway, turning back to her. “I hope tomorrow goes okay.”
“Thank you,” she said.
I remembered my promise to Mooney. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Fire away.”
I dropped my voice. “It’s Fay’s birthday on Tuesday. I’m hoping we could bring her a cake?”
“Of course,” she said. “You see? That’s exactly the kind of compassion I’ve been talking about.”
9 9
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 99
28/5/08 2:44:25 PM
15
Pete and I started trudging back up toward campus.
“Long day,” he said. “Lulu asked me over for coffee. Want to join us?”
“I’ve gotta get home, but tell her hey for me.”
“I hear she’s got a clandestine stash of caffeinated.”
“High-test,” I said, a little worried that she’d let him in on the secret, given Mooney’s warning.
“Can’t beat that with a stick.” Pete rubbed his hands together, fl ashing me a grin of anticipation. “I’m sick of drinking David’s crappy decaf.”
“Aren’t you fancy with the schmancy, calling him David already,” I said. “How long have you been here, a week?”
“That’s what he asked me to call him when he interviewed me.”
“So how’d you end up at this place?” I asked.
“A friend told me about what David was doing here. He said this might be a good place for me at the moment. I fi gured it was worth a shot.”
“Had you met Santangelo beforehand?”
1 0 0
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 100
28/5/08 2:44:26 PM
“We all went to the same college. David graduated a few years before I showed up there.”
“Only a few? How old are you?”
“Okay, maybe he graduated ten years before I got there,” he said. “I don’t
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