Ben
Sweat trickled down my back—it was hot all right, even working in the shade. Lucky thing this was the last window I had to uncover.
Between the heat and the bugs, it was going to be hard to keep everyone excited about this place. Jus didn’t like to sweat in front of Jemmie. And Jemmie’d have more fun doing something with a ball in her hands. Even with the sewing machine, Cass probably still thought that busting into this place was wrong, and I could tell Cody was kind of spooked.
I was the only one who thought this was a great idea—make that the only idea. We needed something to get us through what Cass kept calling “our last summer.”
I gave one more pull on the crowbar and the nails along the third side of the shutter jerked free. When I lifted it, light flooded the back of the garage. I peered down through the dusty screen at something big pushed up against the wall. It was covered with a cloth, but the shape was unmistakable. “Hey, Jus, over here.”
Justin turned and stared, then he got this big, goofy smile.
I jogged around the outside of the garage, grinning too. If the piano under that cloth still played, I wouldn’t have to convince Justin to come out here.
As I walked inside, he jerked the fabric back and said, “Merry Christmas, Justin Riggs!”
He dropped the cloth on the floor, then slowly lifted the lid that covered the keys. It hit the piano with a hollow boom as he folded it back. I would’ve tried it out right away, but he stood there and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Bet it’s way out of tune,” said Jemmie.
“Maybe not too bad,” I said, walking over to Jus. The piano keys were yellow like dog teeth, except the ones that were the dingy gray of old glue. Some of the ivories had fallen off.
“It’s probably way bad,” Jus admitted. He ran a hand along the keys too lightly to make them play. “But it’s a piano!”
Jemmie put her hands on her hips. “Guess this means you don’t need to play my piano anymore.”
“Sure I do!” Justin said fast. “But this one is more…mine.” He put a hand on top of the piano. “I claim this piano in the name of Justin Riggs, aka Big.” He glanced over his shoulder at Jemmie. “To be played when the piano belonging to Jemmie Lewis is otherwise occupied.”
“Shouldn’t you see if it still plays before you go claiming it?” Jemmie asked.
Justin dragged a finger through the dust on the piano bench, shrugged, and then sat. He pushed one key down and held it. The note quivered.
“Sounds pretty good!” I said.
“One note?” said Jemmie. “Play something, Big.”
Justin began to play some piano-book thing. The notes were a little plinky, but inside that old garage they didn’t sound half bad.
“No C-sharp,” Justin mumbled. He stopped playing whatever he was playing and struck each key with a finger. “No G.” He winced when the next key clunked. So, it wasn’t perfect.
“But it’s a piano, right?” I said.
“Yeah.” Jus ran his hand lightly over the keys again and smiled. “Yeah, it is.” And I knew my best friend was in.
A sudden motion caught my eye—my little brother jumping back as he let out a girly squeal. “Snake!”
“Where?” Cass lifted her feet.
Cody pointed at a dark coil that looped out from behind a chest of drawers.
I pulled it out. “It’s just a hose.”
“Oh,” he said. “I knew that.”
Down on one knee, I spotted the toolbox shoved into a corner. “Well, look at this.” I dragged it out and opened the lid. “Great. Now I won’t have to borrow Dad’s tools.”
“Cool!” Cody said. “You gotta show him.”
The wrench I’d picked up clattered back into the box. This was the part I was afraid of. Cody the Mouth blowing everything. “Listen up.” I stood, spun a chair on one leg so it faced me, and straddled it. I gripped the chair back and looked at each one of them, hard. Cody the longest and hardest. “We tell no one about this place.”
“How about Leroy?” Jemmie asked.
“No.” Justin glanced at her over his shoulder, his fingers still on the piano keys. “Think about it.” Then he did a little Leroy rap. “We got the goods, found ’em in the woods, we broke right in, now gimme some skin.”
Jemmie frowned. “We have to tell him. He’s part of us.”
Jus stared at his fingers on the keys—I know he was trying to cut out the competition, but he was right about not telling Leroy. The fewer the people who knew, the less likely it was someone would leak. Tell Leroy, and Jahmal would know—and pretty soon everyone would know. Including Dad.
“He doesn’t need this place,” Justin mumbled. Then louder, “Leroy’s busy turning pro. And Anna’s in Brazil seeing the rain forest, and Clay’s in Indiana seeing…whatever’s in Indiana.” Plunk. He struck a sad chord. “We’re the left-outs…” Plunk. Another sad chord. “The losers…” Plunk. “Until Cody and the hat found this place, nothing was going to happen to us but a long”—plunk—“hot”—plunk—“summer. We deserve this place.”
I held up a finger. “So, rule number one.”
“Not killing spiders is rule number one!” Cody whined.
“Two, then.”
“Respect for stuff,” Cass said, fanning herself with an old LIFE magazine.
“Okay, rule number three—but this is the important one. We tell no one about this place.”
Cody looked anxious. “Except Mom and Dad?”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “We tell nobody, especially not parents.”
Cody opened his mouth to object, but I made my voice deep, like Dad’s. “Little bro, don’t even think about this place around them.”
He clenched his fists. “Why can’t we tell them? We’re not going to hurt anything.”
I blew out—this was complicated. “We know being in here is okay. But they’re parents. It’s their job to worry about stuff that isn’t going to happen. They think we’re helpless.”
“And irresponsible,” Cody added.
“I’m responsible. Responsible enough to be in charge of you this summer, so if I say something is okay, it is. And I say being here is okay. Are you in, Cody?” I tipped the chair up on two legs and leaned toward him. “Or are you going to wreck it for everyone?”
He raked his sneaker across the floor, watching the lace drag. “The hat said not to open the door!”
“The hat was just messing with you. It brought us here in the first place. In or out, Cody?”
“Good man!” I held up a hand and we slapped high five—his slap was kind of wimpy, but I’d work on his attitude. He’d be okay.
Jemmie bounced her heels against the side of the flowered armchair she’d fallen into. “We should give this place a name.”
Cody suggested Spider House. I could’ve gone along with that. But Justin played that fast run he calls an arpeggio. “How about Nowhere?” he asked. “That way when someone asks where we’re going, we won’t be lying.”
Cody took a couple of steps toward the center of the room and waved his arms. “Hey, guys, look at me! I’m in the middle of Nowhere.”
“Good one!” said Justin. He began banging out something that sounded like a march.
“What are you playing?” Jemmie asked.
“The Nowhere anthem.”
“I hope it’s easier to sing than the national one,” she said.
I hung my arms over the chair back and relaxed a little. At least for the moment, everybody was on board. And, at least for the moment, summer was showing some potential.
Cody was marching in time to our anthem when he suddenly stopped dead.
I figured he’d spotted another hose-snake, but he was staring at a dusty sleeping bag, crumpled in a corner with something that looked like the corner of a magazine sticking out the top.
His knees hit the floor, and he grabbed the magazine and pulled it out. “Guys, look! A Spiderman comic!” But there wasn’t just one. Someone had stashed a whole collection of comics in that bag. This was better than I could have hoped for. There was something here for everyone.
Cody opened a comic and let out a yelp. “B-ben!” He stabbed at something on the first page.
“Wha-what?” I walked over. “What’re you stuttering about?”
His chewed-down fingernail took another jab at something written in blue ink. “You see what that says, Ben?”
I saw—and a tingle walked up my spine.
Written inside the cover was a name I knew real well.
