chapter 65

SMARTER

I have one of those mixed-up days at school. I mean I guess it goes okay. If you are looking at me from the outside. But what I know is that I miss Calvin. I miss Moonie. And I kind of miss the clean carpeting at the crumbledown all because I made it look better.

But I get a chance to tell Ms. Blinny about Calvin. His recovery. She is glad to hear that he’s doing well. She notices my bandana. Light-blue one today. I tell her it is a gift from Shayleen. Sort of. Then she asks after Shayleen. I think it might be the first time I say it: “She is pretty okay.”

Ms. Blinny says, “Anything else to tell me, Mason?”

I know it means she has an idea about what.

She leans forward. She says, “Did you get to share your Dragon notes? With the lieutenant?” Makes a smile like she cannot wait to know.

I say, “Not yet. Turned out he wasn’t around this weekend. But he’s coming today. I am pins and needles about it. But I want to cooperate. I hope you will be right about him seeing all the truths.”

End of the school day, I get on the bus. Soon as he sees me Matt Drinker calls out from the back. He says, “Nice work, Butt-head. My dog smells. Like your sweat. Like he is coated in it.” I open up my eyes wide. Feel my face go red. I try to cover that with a swipe from the blue bandana.

He says, “My mom has to take him for a bath today. Because of you.”

I land on a seat. Try to get small. I think this: Could that be true? I do touch Moonie a lot. And I am real sweaty. But I am not stinky. I make sure of that. I even asked Shayleen if I was. I put my armpit up for her, and tell you what. If I stank, she would tell me. But Matt has me worrying. I think this: What if Mrs. Drinker never asks me to dog-sit again? Then there I am seeing some of that muck-green fog.

On the loop through town I watch for the Merrimack Pee Dee. The cruiser is there. Number 003. Lieutenant Baird’s car. So then I know. He is not at my house. Not yet.

Off the bus at the cluster stop I take a chance. Walk straight away for home. I don’t get far. A lacrosse ball stings me—back of my thigh. Kind of takes that leg out. I stop. Breathe out. Turn around. Another ball comes sailing my way.

I reach. I catch. I do one turn on one foot. Try to absorb that sting. And oh, man. That smarts. I look back at Lance and Matt. And Corey McSpirit, standing off to the side. I hold the ball up. I show it. Last thing I am going to do is throw it back. Give them another shot.

I say, “You dropped this.” Not quite true. More like somebody winged it. I set that ball down on the gravel. Right next to my big sweaty feet.

I say, “If you want it, it’ll be right here.”

I turn and head to the crumbledown. I don’t run. I walk. And nothing happens. I think this: Holy cow, Mason Buttle. You are getting smarter.

Inside the crumbledown Grandma greets me. She has a message. From Mrs. Drinker. I am worried this will be about my sweat. On her dog. But Grandma says, “She needs your help moving a big bag of dog food. She said you would know.”

I say, “Oh, right. Might be Moonie’s bin is empty. Might be Mrs. Drinker needs me to reach that.”

I think this: too high and dry.

I ask Grandma to hold off on making my banana shake. I say, “I’m going to run down there now. Get it off my mind. Because the lieutenant could be here. Any minute. And I can’t be thinking about both those things. So Grandma, if he shows up, give him the notebook. I’ll be right back.”