Cass and me were still in our pajamas when Nana Grace leaned forward in her chair by the window. “Here they come again! Lord, Cody can’t see a thing with that hat over his face, and he’s leading them other two around.”
The first time they went by, Ben had his hands on his brother’s shoulders, Big walking right behind them. When Cody tripped, they piled into each other.
This time they stopped. Ben dropped to one knee to talk to Cody, who was still under the hat.
The hat kind of wobbled. It looked like Cody was shaking his head no. Then Ben shrugged at Big and put his hands back on Cody’s shoulders. They started walking again. I figured it was some kind of game. I went out on the porch and leaned toward them over the railing. “Hey! What’re you doing?”
“We’re on a hat expedition!” Big yelled back. “Cody’s idea.”
“Nuh-uh!” Cody shouted. “It was the hat’s idea!”
I stuck my head back in the door. “Cass? Wanna go on a hat expedition?”
“Come in here right this second and get decent!” my grandmother ordered.
I turned back to the guys and held out my arms. “I am decent, right?”
Big gulped. “Are those your pajamas?” He turned red.
“Well, yeah.” I felt my face get hot—but I didn’t know why. My pj’s were a pink tank top and baggy flannel bottoms with fairies on them. No matter what my grandmother said or how red-faced Big got, I was decent!
“Back in a minute!” I rushed inside.
The guys were sitting on the steps when we came out. Big looked away. I wanted to punch his arm and say, Hey, now that I’m wearing shorts, flip-flops, and a T-shirt, I’m showing you way more skin than I did in my pajamas. But then I thought about seeing him in his pajamas and I looked away too. Must be something about the word “pajamas.”
We started walking, all of us trailing along behind Cody.
“What’s a hat expedition?” Cass dragged her fingers through her hair—we dressed so fast, she hadn’t had time to brush.
Justin tapped on the top of the hat. “Explain, O Cody of the Third Eye.”
“The hat is leading us.”
“Leading us where?” I asked.
“In circles,” said Ben.
I glanced at Big. He had no business making comments about anything I wore. “Say, Big? Isn’t that the same shirt you had on yesterday?”
“Uh, no. I have two like this.”
Who had two T-shirts that have “Killer App” and a robot-looking guy with a sword on the front? One was too many, and the pinkish stain looked familiar. But for once I didn’t run my mouth. Nana Grace leaves stacks of neatly folded laundry on my bed. I’ve never been inside Big’s house, but I bet no one leaves him stacks of clean laundry.
For the next while we followed Cody…and sweated.
Finally, Ben pulled back on his brother’s shoulders. “Running out of neighborhood.”
“But we’re not there yet,” the hat whined.
“Come on, Cody.” Ben leaned down. “Let’s go home, put the hat in the closet, and—”
Cody’s arm jerked up. “That way!”
Ben straightened. I shaded my eyes and squinted across Rankin, the road at the edge of the neighborhood.
Ben squinted against the glare. “You mean the leftover piece of woods?”
When I moved here, there was a whole lot of woods on the other side of Rankin; then the county bulldozed most of the trees so they could mine sand. For some reason a few fenced-in acres were still there, all woodsy and viny and surrounded by a split-rail fence.
Cody pushed the hat back to see where the hat had led them. “Oh. Never mind. Those woods are off-limits. Dad said.” Then he told the hat he was sorry because he couldn’t follow its instructions. He scuffed a sneaker in the roadside dust. “Guess we should go home now.”
Looking at Cass and Big, I could tell that, like me, they were ready to turn back, but Ben crossed his arms and stared at the sandy pit the city kept digging deeper. “Remember when we used to build forts all over those woods?”
Cass smiled. “And remember that old car we used to hang out in?”
Big and I didn’t remember any of that stuff—we were both too new to the neighborhood—but Ben and Cass were little together. They built forts, ran under the sprinkler in their diapers. His little-kid handprint is right next to hers on the cement in front of her house.
“And this is all that’s left—the last wilderness.” Ben peered into the forbidden woods. “Why does everything I want to do have a fence around it?”
“I take it you’re talking figuratively, not literally,” Big said.
I remembered the English class when Mr. Butler explained the difference—I thought Big mostly slept through Butler’s class.
“Or,” he said, “are you actually saying you’ve always wanted to go into that particular weed patch?”
“Guess I’ve never thought about it,” Ben admitted. “But it’s not like we have anything better to do. So what do you say?” Thumbs shoved into the pockets of his jeans, Ben nodded toward the woods across the glaring-hot tar road. “The fence is falling over anyway. See how it’s leaning?”
“No,” I said, “but I do see plenty of poison ivy climbing up that tree, and loads of sticker vines.”
Cody’s head bobbed. “Leaves of three, don’t touch me!”
But when Ben gets an idea, his ears turn off. “If that land is abandoned—and I say it is—that means it’s public domain. And that means we can take a look. What could looking hurt, anyhow?”
“But Ben,” Cody whined.
Ben held up his hands. “Hey, just following the command of the almighty hat!” He loped across the street and climbed over a section of the fence that looked weathered but still stood pretty straight. “Come on!” Sitting on the top rail, he waved us across Rankin. Cass went first, then Big. What the heck. I jogged across too.
Cody stood all by himself on the other side of the street. “You guys! It’s private property. Dad says!”
Straddling the fence, Big slapped his neck. “If it is, I just killed one of the security guards.”
“I don’t see any No Trespassing signs.” Ben opened his arms. “Do you?”
Cody turned in place, scanning the fence from one end to the other, searching for signs. “Well, maybe just one look would be okay.” He trotted across the street, holding the hat in both hands.
We all sat up on the top rail of the fence, our legs dangling above a patch of sticker vines.
Ben pointed out a strip that cut back into the woods where the brambles grew lower. “Looks like there used to be a road here, or maybe a driveway. It’s gotta go somewhere.”
“Doesn’t mean we have to,” I said. Sitting on that fence, it was hot and still. Hot and still and buggy.
Ben jumped down, took a few steps, and looked back. “Ya comin’?”
The rest of us just stared at him—he was the only one in jeans. Big was the first to cave. “Okay, okay!” He lumbered down off the fence. “If this isn’t enough fun, we could try poking out our eyeballs with sticks.”
Ben looked at Big’s pink legs, then at me and Cass and Cody, still perched on the fence. “Never mind. You guys wait here. I’m goin’ in.” Ben let out a whoop. Lifting his feet high, he bounded over brambles and cut around saplings, zigzagging his way through the deep weeds until he disappeared. I expected Cass to leap down and run after him, but she stayed put, swinging her legs and holding her hair up off her neck.
“Reprieve!” Big climbed back up.
When we couldn’t hear Ben anymore, we listened to the buzz of mosquitoes.
For a second, Big hummed that same mosquito note. “Ah yes,” he said. “Summer’s greatest hit.”