17

MOM HAS AN EARLY-AFTERNOON WEDDING. SHE’S already dressed and almost out the door when I come into the kitchen. She gives me a quick hug and says, “Sorry, hon, I’ve got to run and we’re about out of groceries. There’s some rice cakes and an orange. Love you, and Mrs. Hammons is on call. If you need anything at all just give her a ring. I’ll be back before dinner.” She blows me a kiss and rushes off to work.

As soon as she’s gone, I run to my room and take the spider pin from my backpack and give it a little kiss before attaching it inside my shirt pocket again. On my way out, I text Grampa’s address to Jasper and ask him to meet me there instead of at the mall. We need the extra wagon just in case. After Mom’s surprise perfect score yesterday, I’m feeling like I might get lucky.

When I arrive, Jasper is already there, inspecting Grampa’s mailbox, the post made from an old water pump. I pull to a stop and Jasper motions to the garage wall, where Grampa’s hung three old windows complete with flower-filled planters. Jasper turns in a slow circle. “This place is amazing.”

I nod. “That’s nothing. Follow me.” When I push open the garden gate, Jasper gasps. We walk under the arbor Grampa and I made from old shutters and painted red, though it’s now mostly covered in honeysuckle vines.

Jasper runs from one thing to another and stops at the old French horn that Grampa turned into a planter. “I feel like the kids in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory when they’re first let in.”

“I told you. My grampa can fix anything. He says throwing something away is evidence of a lack of imagination, a failure to see what the item’s next purpose could be.” I point to the teapots of all sizes filled with drooping ferns and our tire-planter garden. “Let me water his plants, and then we can grab the wagons and head out. Mom needs to move the ferns inside before it gets too cold.” I mist the autumn sage while Jaspers checks out all the repurposed wonders hidden in Grampa’s yard.

“These little candleholders are made out of wine glasses,” Jasper yells over.

“I know. Grampa and I found a whole crate of them with only the bases broken. So, we shoved what was left of the stems in the ground, and the bowl is the perfect size for a votive candle.” I finish up and wrap the hose back around the hanger that’s actually a tire rim I spray-painted bright orange and Grampa mounted to the wall.

“Come on,” I yell to Jasper, and he follows me to Grampa’s shed. There’s an impressive array of supplies inside.

Jasper looks over my shoulder and whispers, “It just keeps getting better.”

“I wish I could take you inside Grampa’s house. It’s like the very best museum. But we don’t have time today.” I roll out the extra wagon and attach it to Jasper’s bike the same way I did mine the last time. “You can’t take turns too fast, or the wagon could swing into your back wheel. But as long as you take it slow, you’ll be fine.”

I fidget with bungee cords to make sure they’re secure. I’m hoping since we’re going during the day the security guards will be too busy to give us any trouble.

“Ready?” Jasper asks.

“Ready.” I nod and lead the way.

We pass North Lake and the volleyball courts and head toward the highway. To avoid traffic, I take a slow turn onto Hillside Drive and pull into the back of an enormous parking lot. The dumpsters for Electric Ave., the mall’s biggest electronics store, are tucked behind a six-foot wall of fencing to block them from view. Hidden treasures.

I scan the parking lot. No “Private Property” signs. No security guards. It’s busy but not too bad. I nod toward the fence. “This is good. People are less likely to see us.”

Jasper nods. “Let the hunt begin.”

I roll my eyes and laugh. There are three dumpsters and two are already propped open. I point to one swarming with flies. “That one is most likely for the restaurants at the food court. So, steer clear.”

This time we brought both Grampa’s fancy picking tools. I take out two milk crates for us to stand on. Jasper smiles. “I get to dig this time and not just be a lookout?”

“With these fences the only thing we really need to keep an eye on are those doors.” I nod toward a small set of concrete stairs and two metal doors on the brick wall we’re facing. One is propped open, revealing a long empty hallway. “Why would they have a door open? Maybe we should come back another day.”

Jasper shrugs. “But with the door open, we’ll be able to see or hear someone coming. If it’s closed, we wouldn’t know until they opened it. So, really isn’t it better that it’s open?”

“Good point.”

We slide on the plastic gloves and get to work. But just as Jasper steps up on the crate something nags at me. He doesn’t know all the details.

“Wait,” I say. “There was some reason Grampa wouldn’t come here. I don’t know what it was, and I won’t blame you if you want to back out. I should have told you sooner.”

“But it’s not like we’re stealing. They’re throwing all this away, right?” Jasper asks.

“As far as I know. Grampa always says once it’s out on the curb or in a dumpster, it’s fair game. But like I said, it’s okay if you want to leave.” I step up on my crate so that I’m standing next to him, and hope with my whole heart that he stays.

“It’s too late to back out now.” Jasper reaches in and grabs a bag with the picking tool, and I do the same. Mine is stuffed full but not too heavy to lower to the pavement on my own. As soon as I pull open the top, video games spill out.

“Jackpot,” Jasper whispers.

“They’re preowned, but Frank doesn’t care. I think I can put the whole bag in the wagon. What’s in yours?” I ask.

Jasper carefully unties the knot at the top. “Whoa. Unopened boxes of headphones.” He pulls out one box after another of new gaming headsets with microphones. “Six of them in total.”

I look the brand up on my phone. “Thirty-five dollars on Amazon.” We both start to giggle. “What else?”

“I’ve got a few off-brand Xbox controllers. And the whole bottom of the bag is full of still-in-the-package adapters, like cords and stuff.” Jasper looks up at me with his giant smile. “This is so fun!” His voice gets louder with each word.

“SHHHH.” But I laugh also. “Ready for round two?”

Jasper nods. I hook into a bag but can’t quite raise it. “Help me with this one. It’s too heavy.” Jasper uses the pole of his tool to support the bottom of the bag, and once we have it up to the edge, he grabs it and places it beside the wagon. My heart is pounding. A bag that weighs this much must be full of something good.

I rip open the top. Inside are two Nintendo Wiis and new Wii charging stations, preowned but all still in the original packaging.

“Oh man,” Jasper whispers. “Is anyone still playing Wii?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, but maybe Frank won’t know either.”

We’re so focused on the bag that the metal door slamming closed takes us both by surprise. Luckily, we’re already crouched down and hidden from view by the dumpster, and with the lid open like it is, so are our bikes. At first, I’m frozen, but when I hear footsteps on the stairs, I creep forward and start fastening down the bungee net over Jasper’s wagon.

“Get on your bike and take off,” I whisper. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Jasper crawls over to his bike and gets on, just as I grab the garbage bag, tie it closed with shaking fingers, and toss it in my wagon.

“Hey!” someone yells. “Those receptacles are private property!”

No time to secure my finds. “Go!” I yell at Jasper, and we take off.

I look back to see a security guard toss a cigarette and get on his radio. Now with the door closed, I see the sign—PRIVATE PROPERTY.

It’s impossible to go full speed with the wagons attached. “Let’s cut through the park.” I veer off Windsor Drive onto the road that leads to a parking lot for North Lake Recreation Center. There’s a hiking trail that goes to the fishing pond or up to the recycling center. I make the turn a little too quick. The wagon swings inward and hits my back wheel.

For a moment I’m airborne, and all I’m thinking about is whether all our finds flew out of my wagon. I land on my back. Jasper is screaming my name from the trail. There’s this horrible sound, kind of like the cry of a kitten. That’s when I realize I can’t breathe, and the sound is coming from me struggling to inhale, and just then pain flares in my chest.

Jasper runs over to me. He pulls me up so that I’m sitting, then moves my legs until my knees are bent in front of my chest. “You’ve had the wind knocked out of you. It happened to me in a soccer game once.”

After a few seconds of gasping, the noise and the pain stops, and I’m able to take a breath. I feel weak and a little lightheaded, but I’m not hurt.

“Take slow breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth,” Jasper says. I try to get up, but he puts his hand on my shoulder. “You should just sit for a minute. Everything spilled out, but I think it’s all fine.”

“I’m okay,” I say, then get up slowly and walk back to the trail. The items are all undamaged, like Jasper said. When I look at everything now, I don’t even bother opening my heart to see if anything speaks to it. I touch my pocket where the spider pin still rests, trying to call up the feeling of finding something truly special.

We climb back on our bikes. I know I owe Jasper more of an explanation, but when I turn to him, he holds up a hand. “None of that was okay. Let’s just get this stuff back to your grampa’s.” Then he takes off like he knows the way.

Once we pull into Grampa’s driveway, I go to open the garage, but Jasper doesn’t follow. He’s busy unwrapping the bungee cord connecting his bike to the wagon.

“Not illegal, huh?” he says. “Then why did that guy run after us screaming, and why did we take off like that?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should’ve gone alone.”

“Or not at all,” Jasper says. “I don’t think I can go with you on hunts anymore. Maybe you should stop too.”

I gesture to Grampa’s house. “I have to fix this whole mess, get Grampa back home, and make everything the way it was.”

Jasper climbs back on his bike. “You should take a closer look around here. Your grampa didn’t fix all this stuff and get it to work the way it did before. He changed things and made them into something else.”

I don’t want to think about what he’s saying. But I also don’t want him to leave still angry at me. “I told you everything I knew. But I should’ve known that Grampa’s reasons for not going there were good ones.” I point to our wagons. “All this stuff would’ve ended up in some landfill, and maybe it’s enough to convince my mom that I can make up the difference and cover Grampa’s monthly expenses. I couldn’t have done it without you. Even if you never talk to me again—thank you.”

Jasper scoffs, but I see just the side of his mouth rise a little. “It was sort of exciting.” Not a smile but a hint of one. “And you did warn me. And we did find some good stuff, didn’t we?”

I nod. “Some great stuff.”

He nods too, but says, “I better head home.”

“You still want to come to Frank’s tomorrow and see what we can get for all this?” I ask.

Jasper shrugs. “Let me think about it.” He takes off and says, “See you tomorrow.”

I watch his back as he pedals down Grampa’s street, hoping he’ll look back and give me one of his smiles. He doesn’t.

After storing our finds, I get home about an hour before Mom does and manage to make it through dinner with her chatting about her upcoming competition.

Mom is so focused on the National Expo that she blurts out random ideas in the middle of eating. She drops her fork and yells, “Suspenders!” then jumps up to write it down in her inspiration journal. Even though I’m in a tangle over what happened with Jasper, I laugh out loud.

“Don’t mock genius.” While Mom jots, I check my phone, sigh, and put it down for the hundredth time. “I hope your long face isn’t because you’re feeling upset over a boy.” Mom is staring at me. “Want to talk about whatever happened between you and Jasper?”

“Jasper and I are just friends.” At least, I hope we’re still friends.

“Jasper’s a nice kid.” Mom reaches over and squeezes my hand. “True friends can work things out.”

Right as I’m about to go to bed, my phone buzzes. It’s a text from Jasper. Sorry. Can’t go tomorrow.