Unhooking the Moon by Gregory Hughes Page B

raised her eyebrows twice in victory. She knew I couldn’t stand that. But on this occasion I didn’t care.
    â€˜Put your bikes in the trunk,’ said the guy, ‘and try not to scratch the paintwork.’
    We dumped our bikes and rucksacks in the trunk and jumped in the back seat.
    â€˜My name’s Marie Claire DeBillier and this is my brother Bob. And we’re from Winnipeg.’
    â€˜Well my name’s Joey and I’m from cloud cuckoo land!’ said Joey driving away. ‘I must be out of my mind doing this!’
    â€˜It’ll be OK,’ said the Rat.
    â€˜Yeah. Well, how am I gonna explain who you are when we get to the border?’
    â€˜We’ll think of something.’
    â€˜Forget that. Just pretend to be asleep and with any luck they won’t bother us.’
    It felt cosy being in the car, especially after cycling so much, but as we neared the border everything became tense. We got through the Canadian side with no problem but then we came to the US side.
    â€˜I can’t stand these retards. They give everyone grief except the terrorists. Them they let in with open arms. You kids get under that blanket and pretend to be asleep.’
    We drove into a brightly lit area and the car came to a stop.
    â€˜Identification … Step out of the car and open the trunk.’
    Joey switched off the engine and got out of the car. A flashlight shone in my face and then I heard the trunk pop open.
    â€˜How long have you been in Canada?’
    â€˜Just for the day.’
    â€˜What’s in the rucksacks?’
    â€˜The rucksacks … well … I don’t know – they’renot mine.’
    The man’s tone became harsh. ‘So you’re bringing bags into the US but you don’t know what’s in them?’
    My heart beat a sickening beat.
    â€˜That’s my bag, officer. You can look in it if you want.’
    Oh my God! I opened my eyes to see the Rat leaning out the back window.
    â€˜I don’t mind if I do,’ said the man.
    â€˜Where are we, Uncle Joey? I’m tired.’
    â€˜You can sleep soon, sweetheart.’
    â€˜Where are you going?’ asked a woman’s voice.
    â€˜We’re going to New York City to see our grandma. And Uncle Joey’s taking us. Aren’t you, Uncle Joey? We’re going to see the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty and everything. And our granny’s taking us on a ferry ride around Manhattan! And she’s going to bake us her very own apple pie so we don’t get hungry.’
    She sounded so convincing! Some days I wondered who the Rat really was!
    â€˜What’s your granny’s name?’ asked the woman.
    That’s it! The Rat’s Little Red Riding Hood performance had ruined us!
    â€˜Grandma, of course.’
    I was relieved when I heard laughter.
    â€˜Would you like to see our birth certificates?’ asked the Rat.
    She always had to overdo it! She wouldn’t be satisfied until we were all locked up!
    A man came close to the car. ‘Marie Claire … What’s that? Wazhashnoons?’
    â€˜It’s my Native name.’
    â€˜Marie Claire Wazhashnoons DeBillier and Robert DeBillier born in Winnipeg …’
    A flashlight shone in my face.
    â€˜That’s my bother Bob. He’s asleep.’
    â€˜How do you like living in Winnipeg?’
    â€˜It’s nice, but I’d sooner live in New York. It’s more sophisticated and I want to be an actress.’
    I heard a bit of chuckling. I didn’t know if they were border control or customs but there were quite a few of them around the car.
    â€˜OK, you can go,’ said the serious voice from the back of the car.
    The trunk slammed shut and Joey jumped in the driver’s seat.
    â€˜Bye. Bye everyone,’ said the Rat waving out the window.
    We were quiet as we drove away and then the car slowed again.
    â€˜Drive on,’ said another voice.
    Joey