We were barely out the door when we heard the sirens. A squad car, red lights whirling, barreled up the street toward us and screeched to a stop outside Landen’s. Two sheriff’s deputies threw open their doors and leaped out, aiming guns at Luther.
“No! No!” I screamed, waving my arms. “Get Ruckus Brody—he’s inside. He tried to kill Luther.”
“He got a weapon?” It was Deputy Mead.
“A switchblade,” I said.
They turned and walked with slow and careful steps into Landen’s. A half minute later, one of them poked his head out of the screen door.
“We got ’im,” the officer said. “Come inside, you two.”
Me and Luther went inside Landen’s.
The first two officers aimed guns at Ruckus, who still looked pretty dizzy from when I whacked him on the head. They had taken away his knife.
“Okay, tell us what happened,” said Deputy Mead.
Just then, the screen door flew open and my mom and Vern rushed in.
“Charlie!” Mom cried. “What happened? Are you all right? We saw the police cars. Oh, Charlie!”
She threw her arms around me and held on real tight. Vern put his arm around her, but she didn’t seem to notice. I tried to get away, but Mom was squeezing too hard.
“I’m okay,” I said. She kept squishing me. “Let go, Mom, I can’t breathe.”
She finally let go.
Vern put a hand on my shoulder and I batted it away.
Deputy Mead cleared his throat. “Okay, suppose you all tell us what’s goin’ on?”
“He killed my brother,” Ruckus said, pointing at Luther. His eyes looked clear now and focused sharp with hate.
“It was an accident!” I blurted out. I looked at Deputy Mead. “You know about what happened. And so does Sheriff Engle.”
“That’s right,” the deputy said, nodding. “But I want to know what happened here tonight.” He turned to Luther. “You tell me.”
So Luther told him about how he’d come back to Landen’s to clean. He told how Ruckus burst in, how I shoved the bayonet across the floor to him, and how they fought.
Mom gasped and held on to my shoulder. Vern still had his arm around her. Even with everything that had just happened, it burned me to see that.
Deputy Mead turned to Ruckus. “That pretty much what happened?”
“He killed my brother,” Ruckus said.
“We’re taking you in and charging you with assault,” Deputy Mead said, slapping handcuffs over Ruckus’s wrists. He looked at Luther. “And we’ll need a formal statement from you, Mr. Peale.”
Luther glanced around him. “Mr. Landen’s depending on me to clean up this mess. Could I come in the morning? Or after I finish here?”
Mead nodded. “Okay, we’ll get your statement in the morning. Meantime, you better call Landen and tell him what happened here.”
One of the other deputies took down my address and Luther’s address while Mom stood behind me, still gripping my shoulders.
When the deputies had all the information they wanted, they said we could go. The deputies walked Ruckus out the door, reading him his rights.
Luther held out Dad’s bayonet to Mom. “Here, Mrs. Nebraska. I won’t be needing this now.”
“I’ll take that,” Vern said, stepping in front of Mom and grabbing the bayonet.
“Give it to Mom,” I told him in a loud voice.
“Vern, I want to put that away,” Mom said, her voice going as soft as mine was loud.
He glared at me but handed it over to her. She turned to me. “Where’s the case?”
I picked the case up off the floor where I’d dropped it and handed it to her.
Luther turned to me. “Charlie, you shouldn’t have done what you did. You could’ve got yourself killed. Now, I appreciate you comin’ to help me, but it wasn’t the right thing to do.”
“Charlie,” Mom said, “that man had a switchblade! Whatever were you thinking?”
“Luther didn’t have nothin’ to protect himself with,” I said.
“Well, don’t you worry about Ruckus, Charlie.” Luther looked steady into my eyes. “He’s goin’ to jail now. Besides, we got a big game tomorrow.” He put a hand on my shoulder and it felt pretty shaky, if you want to know the truth. But it sure felt better than Vern’s fat paw. “You better go home and get rested so you can concentrate on that tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Come on, Charlie,” Vern said. “I’ll drive you and your mom home.”
I scowled at him. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere with you.”
“Charlie—” Mom began.
“I’ll walk home. I ain’t ridin’ with Vern.”
Vern sighed loudly and ran a hand over the top of his head.
Mom said to Vern, “I’ll walk home with Charlie. It’s not that far.”
“Mary, it’s dark,” he said, but Mom shook her head.
“Now that that man with the switchblade is going to jail, we’ll be fine,” she said. “Holden’s a safe town. And I want to walk home with my son.”
Vern glared at her, then at me. He walked out of Landen’s and let the screen door bang shut behind him.
“Ready to go?” Mom asked me. I nodded. “Good night, Luther.”
“’Night, ma’am,” he said. “‘Night, Charlie. See you tomorrow on the ball field.”
“Yeah,” I said. “See you.”
Mom and I walked down the street for a long time without talking. I wondered what she was thinking, but she kept it to herself till we were almost home.
Finally she said, “Charlie, I want you to know that I think you were very brave,” she said. “But don’t ever, ever do anything so dangerous again. You were wrong to take the bayonet when I told you not to. You could have been killed. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again.”
I kept walking and didn’t say nothing. I knew if Luther ever needed help again, I’d do just about anything.
“Promise me, Charlie.”
I sighed. “I promise.”
It was a lie. But I thought maybe with Ruckus in jail, I wouldn’t have to do anything dangerous again.