I’d never steal it. Hackberry loved his train. It belonged to his mama. His mama gave it him when he was a small boy. I’d never take it!” He dropped his head in his hands and sniveled, then blew his nose with a loud blast.
“But you took my bike. You can’t deny that. I’m going to call the cops right now on my cell phone.” Spence patted his pocket—at least he had a wallet in there.
“Take it then. Take it! Leave me without a bike to ride in my new act. Go ahead. Discriminate. Just because I’m different.”
“There’s a bike on the back of your car. You can ride that.”
“Not mine!” Chuckie squealed. “That one’s too big for me. It belongs to Hackberry. I’m keeping it for him while he...” He sucked up his lower lip with his buck teeth.
“While he what?” Spence asked, wondering how he was going to get the fuchsia paint off his bike. He didn’t want to go riding around on a hot pink bicycle. The kids would laugh at him. “When he rides over to see his brother Juniper? In the middle of the night maybe?”
Chuckie gasped. “How’d you know about Juniper? Hackberry’s scared of his brother,” he said without waiting for an answer. “The brother wants something Hackberry’s got.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s a confidence. I’m the only one Hack talks to. He knows I won’t blab.” His thin lips quivered. “He’s my friend, my one real friend in the whole wide world.” He covered his face with his plump hands.
Spence knew then he wouldn’t call the cops about the bike. He’d repaint it black. He knew Chuckie wouldn’t tell where the clown was hiding. So maybe Zoe was right. Maybe they really would have to sneak into Boomer’s house in the middle of the night to hunt for a clue. What kind of clue he didn’t know. Or where. But something. So Juniper wouldn’t try to harm Hackberry. Knock him on the head or blow up his train in the middle of his act. That is, if he came back at all. He wouldn’t let down the other clowns who worked with him, would he?
He must’ve spoken aloud because Chuckie said, “He’s always been on time for his act. He never let anybody down in all these years. Never! But now...”
“Now?”
“I don’t know,” Chuckie said slowly, his bittersweet eyes leaking fat tears down his face, his hands clasped together in his lap. “I just don’t know.”
FRIDAY
20
A HOLE IN THE CELLAR FLOOR
“Coming to join us, Spence? Kelby was stretched out on a cot in the club hut, reading a comic book. A cigarette butt burned in a flowered saucer. Spence coughed. Kelby was trying to be cool, of course.
“Um, probably not.” Zoe had asked him to meet her in the hut, so Spence wasn’t too pleased to see her troublesome brother.
“Couldn’t walk the beam, I suppose? A little acrophobia?” Kelby’s baseball cap was so far down over his eyes that Spence wondered how he could see the print.
“I’ve got other things to do right now,” said Spence, lifting his chin. “And soccer practice starts next week.” For some reason he wasn’t nervous today around Kelby. Maybe it was because he’d confronted the dwarf and gotten his bicycle back.
“Huh,” Kelby said. “Well if you change your mind, we got a rafter beam at Butch’s place you can kick a ball at.” Kelby never gave up, it seemed. “You could help Zoe with old Boomer down the street. She’ll never make lieutenant the rate she’s going.” He lifted an eyebrow, like Spence might offer some new information.
“I don’t know anything about Boomer,” Spence said with his fingers crossed. “I only know that two of my circus cars are missing.”
“Yeah? Well, the cops went and questioned Butch—you know that?” Spence shook his head. “They did, yeah. Butch and his brother both—the Portapotty bomber?”
“They have evidence?”
“Naw. But they didn’t take any rail cars, Butch says, and I believe him. His brother’s being good now. That’s
“But you took my bike. You can’t deny that. I’m going to call the cops right now on my cell phone.” Spence patted his pocket—at least he had a wallet in there.
“Take it then. Take it! Leave me without a bike to ride in my new act. Go ahead. Discriminate. Just because I’m different.”
“There’s a bike on the back of your car. You can ride that.”
“Not mine!” Chuckie squealed. “That one’s too big for me. It belongs to Hackberry. I’m keeping it for him while he...” He sucked up his lower lip with his buck teeth.
“While he what?” Spence asked, wondering how he was going to get the fuchsia paint off his bike. He didn’t want to go riding around on a hot pink bicycle. The kids would laugh at him. “When he rides over to see his brother Juniper? In the middle of the night maybe?”
Chuckie gasped. “How’d you know about Juniper? Hackberry’s scared of his brother,” he said without waiting for an answer. “The brother wants something Hackberry’s got.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you. It’s a confidence. I’m the only one Hack talks to. He knows I won’t blab.” His thin lips quivered. “He’s my friend, my one real friend in the whole wide world.” He covered his face with his plump hands.
Spence knew then he wouldn’t call the cops about the bike. He’d repaint it black. He knew Chuckie wouldn’t tell where the clown was hiding. So maybe Zoe was right. Maybe they really would have to sneak into Boomer’s house in the middle of the night to hunt for a clue. What kind of clue he didn’t know. Or where. But something. So Juniper wouldn’t try to harm Hackberry. Knock him on the head or blow up his train in the middle of his act. That is, if he came back at all. He wouldn’t let down the other clowns who worked with him, would he?
He must’ve spoken aloud because Chuckie said, “He’s always been on time for his act. He never let anybody down in all these years. Never! But now...”
“Now?”
“I don’t know,” Chuckie said slowly, his bittersweet eyes leaking fat tears down his face, his hands clasped together in his lap. “I just don’t know.”
FRIDAY
20
A HOLE IN THE CELLAR FLOOR
“Coming to join us, Spence? Kelby was stretched out on a cot in the club hut, reading a comic book. A cigarette butt burned in a flowered saucer. Spence coughed. Kelby was trying to be cool, of course.
“Um, probably not.” Zoe had asked him to meet her in the hut, so Spence wasn’t too pleased to see her troublesome brother.
“Couldn’t walk the beam, I suppose? A little acrophobia?” Kelby’s baseball cap was so far down over his eyes that Spence wondered how he could see the print.
“I’ve got other things to do right now,” said Spence, lifting his chin. “And soccer practice starts next week.” For some reason he wasn’t nervous today around Kelby. Maybe it was because he’d confronted the dwarf and gotten his bicycle back.
“Huh,” Kelby said. “Well if you change your mind, we got a rafter beam at Butch’s place you can kick a ball at.” Kelby never gave up, it seemed. “You could help Zoe with old Boomer down the street. She’ll never make lieutenant the rate she’s going.” He lifted an eyebrow, like Spence might offer some new information.
“I don’t know anything about Boomer,” Spence said with his fingers crossed. “I only know that two of my circus cars are missing.”
“Yeah? Well, the cops went and questioned Butch—you know that?” Spence shook his head. “They did, yeah. Butch and his brother both—the Portapotty bomber?”
“They have evidence?”
“Naw. But they didn’t take any rail cars, Butch says, and I believe him. His brother’s being good now. That’s
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