Leaving?” Damien looked stunned, like the birds that sometimes flew into Donatelli’s shiny plate glass window thinking it was a piece of sky. “You … leaving?”
“It won’t happen for a while.” Socko picked a chunk of gravel off the tar roof. “Probably never.”
All day Socko had dreaded telling his friend Delia’s “good news.” He’d nodded dumbly each time Damien had mentioned Rapp and reminded Socko how they had to stick together.
Now Damien slumped against the wall. “I’m dead,” he said. “Too bad Rapp didn’t drop me off the roof last night. At least it’d be over with.”
“It probably won’t even happen. Who gives away houses anyway?” Socko tossed and caught the pebble. “And it’s gotta take time to buy a house. The old guy might even kick before the deal goes through.”
Damien rocked back and forth, hugging his knees. “Man, oh man, oh man,” he moaned. “Man, oh man, oh man …”
Socko flicked the piece of gravel at him. “I’ll talk her out of it.”
The pebble hit Damien’s neck, but it didn’t catch his attention. “Not gonna happen … not gonna happen.”
Socko was afraid Damien was cracking up.
Click … click.
“Crap!” Damien touched the S on his cap and his fingers froze there. Someone was climbing the metal steps to the roof.
Socko stared at the dark opening of the hatch, expecting to see Rapp’s sideways cap pop through it, but the head that poked up was glossy with cornrows. “Hi, boys.”
Socko sighed with double relief. He didn’t have to stand up to Rapp, and Junebug was okay. He’d knocked on her apartment door a couple of times earlier that day, but all he’d gotten was a view of half her churchy aunt’s face and a curt, “She’s not here.” He’d been sure something bad had happened to Junebug, and that the something bad was his fault.
She rested her arms on the roof and looked toward the spot where she’d left her stuff.
“It’s all at my place,” Socko said. “Sorry about—”
“It’s okay,” she said, cutting him off. “Damien? That superhero move of yours was real dumb, but thanks.”
“Ditto,” said Damien, hugging his knees.
Socko stared at Junebug. Her eyes were puffy, and a purple bruise darkened the skin on her upper arm. “You all right?” he asked.
“Fine.” She looked away. “I need to talk to your mom.”
“Go ahead.”
“I knocked, but she didn’t answer. She working late?” Junebug glanced at her wrist. “It’s six fifteen. She got off a couple hours ago.”
“Two hours late?” Damien butted in. “Big deal. My mom’s a day late.” Not long after Damien had left Socko’s the night before, Louise and her boyfriend had gone out to a bar. She hadn’t come home since. But for Louise, being late was normal. Delia was never late. She knew how much Socko worried.
Junebug climbed onto the roof and walked slowly toward them. She stopped when she reached the low wall at the edge of the roof. “Oh, look!” She did a little bounce. “There she is, getting out of a car. Your momma got wheels all of a sudden?”
Socko turned in time to see a shiny, late-model car speed away.
Delia spotted them. “Big news!” she bawled up to them from the street below, waving her arms over her head. “Big! Big! Big! Meet ya at the apartment.”
“What do you think it is?” Junebug clicked down the stairs ahead of the boys. “She sure is excited!”
“Socko’s out of here.” Damien’s voice was flat.
“Not yet!” Socko objected. “This stuff takes time.”
Junebug stopped on the landing and grabbed his arm. “What’re you two talking about?”
“Socko’s rich great-grandfather is buying them a house.” Damien scraped a wad of gum off the sole of his shoe with the edge of a step. “Socko and Delia are moving.”
“Moving?” Junebug’s nails bit into Socko’s arm. “How far away?”
Socko twisted out of her grip. “Chill, you two. Nothing’s happening yet!”
“Big, big news!” squealed Damien. “Something for sure is happening. Thought you said you had my back, Socko.”
“I told you. I’ll work on her!”
When they pushed open the stairwell door, Delia was standing in the hallway. “Ta-da!” The hand she whipped out from behind her back held a glossy brochure. “I was bussing tables—the girls never keep up with ’em the way I like—and I found this card for a real estate agent named Leah Albin from Dream-Come-True Realty!”
“Slow down, Mom. You’re hyperventilating!” Socko wanted her to notice the looks on Damien’s and Junebug’s faces so she’d quit acting all enthusiastic, but she was too excited.
She shoved the apartment door open with her back. “As soon as she heard we’d pay cash, Leah Albin was all over it! So I said, ‘Too bad I don’t have a car to go see these places,’ and she said, ‘Not a problem,’ and she picked me up and took me to see this place.” She opened the brochure on the kitchen table and flattened it with her palms. “Take a look!”
Damien stood blinking. Junebug bit her lip.
“Moon Ridge Estates,” Socko read.
“Our new home,” Delia added.
Junebug wrapped an arm around Damien’s shoulders, but he pulled away.
“Hey, Damien!” Socko called after him as he bolted for the door—but his friend was gone like smoke.
“Wait!” Delia called toward the closing door. “Have supper with us, then we’ll work on your reading.”
“Work on his reading?” said Socko. “Get real, Mom.”
Delia’s happy face crumpled.
“Are you really going to do this?” Junebug whispered.
Delia took Junebug’s face between her hands and stared into her eyes. “You’ll be fine. In a few more weeks you’ll have your nurse’s aide certificate, you’ll get a good job. You’re on your way!”
Junebug bit her lip hard and nodded once. “I’m happy for you.” She vanished as quietly as Damien.
“Did you see that bruise on her arm?” asked Socko. “Rapp’s been whaling on her again.”
Delia blinked. “What can I do about it?” Her eyes were shiny, but her voice was tough. “I’ve told her to dump that sorry loser a hundred times. I can’t do it for her.”
“She’s scared, Mom, but she listens to you. You’re the one who got her to go back to school.”
“She’s seventeen! At her age I was supporting a kid all by myself. I can’t save the world.” Delia stared at the brochure on the table. “Just us.”
“Mom, stop and think about this. What about the old guy we have to take along with the house? If he’s like Mr. Marvin, he’ll talk our ears off. And you always say we don’t need a man, but if this deal goes through we’ll have one—a really old one!”
“This isn’t just any old man. The General is family and he’s giving us a house. We need the house—and we could use some family too.” When she said the word “family,” she looked as wishful as she had when she’d mentioned the hedge.
“I’m your family! And you said he was a big grouch!”
“So he won’t be a bed of roses. We’re not either.” She pushed the glossy paper toward him. “Would ya at least take a look?”
He put one hand on either side of the brochure and gazed at the drawing of a two-story house. The artist had gone heavy on the hedges, and the sky was pure blue with puffy white clouds, like the weather was always perfect at Moon Ridge Estates.
“Oh, Socko, the house is even prettier than the picture! Wait ‘til you see the inside. It’s so big and clean and new.” His mother put her arm around his shoulders. “You’ll go to a brand-new school, and you’ll have your own room. A real one with walls.” She ran a finger down the list of amenities. “There’s a clubhouse, an Olympic-size swimming pool, a nine-hole golf course. And look at this!” Her finger stabbed the last item on the list. “A wildlife area!”
For a second, leaving looked easy. It wasn’t his fault if his mom made them disappear from this place. Even Damien couldn’t blame him for going.
But suddenly it was the roof all over again. Could he really leave his best friend to face Rapp on his own?
“I can’t do this, Mom,” he said softly. “I can’t.” The arm around his shoulders tightened.
“I’m scared too,” she said. “But we can do it together, like always.”