Chapter 12

The day after I got back from visiting Mom, I was going to go home with Mia after school, but her mother was waiting outside in the car. “Mia!” She stuck her hand out the window. “Over here.”

The baby was strapped in the car seat in back, sucking on a bottle of juice. Mrs. Jenson was wearing blue running pants and a gray sweatshirt with a hood. “Hi, Mrs. Jenson,” I said, “have you been running?”

She laughed. “This is my disguise, Ami, so I look athletic. Raking leaves, actually.” Then she looked at Mia and frowned. “You have a dentist appointment. You were supposed to get excused fifteen minutes early.”

Mia groaned and grabbed my hand. We both go to the same dentist, Morton Gage. Mia really hates dentists. She says the sound of the drill in her mouth, even when she’s full of novocaine, makes her so nervous she wants to scream.

“Plus,” she says, “his jokes. Why did the Little Moron jump off the Empire State Building, Mia? I don’t know, Doctor Gage, why? To see if he had guts, Mia, ha ha ha!”

“Get in the car,” her mother said, “and don’t be so dramatic.”

Mia slammed the door. “See you tomorrow, Ami, if I’m not dead.”

I was almost home, taking my time, before I remembered that Harley Juster was going to dedicate a song to Fred and Jan on his radio program today. I ran the rest of the way. I only hoped Fred came home early, so I could see his face when Harley Juster said, “This is ‘I Still Love You’ for Fred and Jan.”

The back door was unlocked. Good, I thought, Fred’s home. “Fred?” I kicked off my sneakers and stopped dead. There was a stranger, a man, sitting in our kitchen. He had long hair and a guitar slung around his neck. He acted like he belonged here. “Rooootie toootie …,” he sang, “roootie tootie, who’s this cutie?”

Maybe he was in the wrong house. A lot of the houses on our street resemble each other. Once, when Fred was a little boy, he went into another white house with black shutters, sat down in the living room, and watched an entire show before anyone noticed him.

Maybe I was in the wrong house. No, I couldn’t be. Alcott was curled up on the stranger’s lap.

“Hi,” he said. “Greetings. Shalom.” He had a curved silver earring like the letter C in one ear.

I stood by the door. “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” He sang, “Hi, I’m Bill, if you will … rootie tootie.… And who are you … big tall cutie?” The earring flashed.

“How’d you get in here?”

“Same way you did.” He leaned back on two legs of the chair.

“Stop that! You’ll break the chair.” Why did I say that? He could be a murderer, escaped convict, a thief. Anything!

He let the chair down, and Alcott jumped off his lap. “Roootie toootie … chair legs on the floor … ask me something more.…”

Even if he wasn’t a criminal, he was crazy. I looked over at the cupboard. The knife Dad had used this morning to cut bread was still on the cutting board. “You better get out of here.”

“Why?” he said.

I took a step toward the cupboard. “You don’t belong here.” I grabbed the knife.

He looked at the knife, open-mouthed. “Do we have a little communication problem here? I’m Bill Shank. Friend of Fred. Are you his sister?”

“How do I know you’re Fred’s friend?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the knife. “Don’t get excited. I came home with Fred and Jan.”

“Where are they?”

“They went out to get some pizza.”

That was the first thing that made sense to me. “What’d you say your name was?”

“Bill Shank. And you’re—”

“Ami,” I said.

“Right. I’ve heard Fred talk about you. Listen, Ami, how would you like to put that knife back where it belongs? It’s making me sort of nervous.” He leaned back on the chair legs again, then straightened up. “Oh, sorry about that. Bad habit.”

I put the knife down. Now I was sort of embarrassed. “I thought—”

“— that I was some space cadet who battered down the kitchen door? Ami! Couldn’t you tell by looking at me what a harmless guy I am? I don’t even kill flies. I’m not kidding, I capture them and set them free outdoors.”

I sat down at the other end of the table, still being cautious. “You do?”

“I figure that fly is here for some reason.”

“Flies carry diseases.”

“Well, that’s true. But, still, there’s got to be a reason why they exist. Right? It makes for an interesting ethical question, Ami.”

We started talking about when, if ever, it’s okay to take life. It’s really horrible to think about how many creatures we kill for food, to begin with, and then for sport and for things like fur coats and shoes and wallets.

“Not to mention the animals we just run down with our cars,” Bill said. “You ever go on a trip and notice them, Ami? Sometimes I think, what if all those dead animals by the side of the road were human beings. Wow! Everyone would be going crazy, screaming and yelling. But the way we figure now, oh, it’s just another animal. Like that animal’s life doesn’t mean a thing.” He said he became a vegetarian when he started thinking about things like that. “Ami, you got me started on my second favorite subject. Don’t let me stop you from whatever you have to do.”

“Only homework. What’s your first favorite subject?”

He held up his guitar. “One guess.” He went into the living room to wait for Fred.

I opened my math book, then I just sat there listening to Bill playing the guitar. I finally did the first set of problems. I had Robert’s name written all over the inside cover of my notebook. Robert Volz. Ten letters. Bill’s name was nine letters. Three, three times. Maybe I’d call Mia, later. Maybe I’d tell her about Bill. Mia, I’d say, this really interesting person—

A silver earring, Ami? Gimme a break!

Mia, it’s narrow-minded to judge a person by the things he wears. And by the way, did you ever think about how many animals human beings kill?

I was figuring out what Mia would say, when Fred and Jan came in, each of them carrying a big white pizza box. That reminded me of Harley Juster’s program. I hoped I hadn’t missed it. I jumped up and turned on the radio.

Jan put her pizza down on the cupboard. “Hi, Ami.”

“Hi, Jan.” I turned up the sound on the radio.

“I’m making supper, Ami, so you do the salad,” Fred said. He lit the oven and put the pizzas in.

“Why can’t you make the salad?” When it’s his turn to do supper, he always finds something for me to do.

“You know you make better salads than I do, Ami.” He pronounced it in the French way, Ahmee, so that it meant love, or something like that. And he gave me one of his special, great smiles.

“Don’t let this guy con you, Ami,” Jan said. “Make him do the work himself.”

“Whose side are you on?” Fred bumped into Jan.

“In this case, your sister’s.” She bumped him back.

And just then, Harley Juster said in his excited radio voice, “And now I have a special request for—FRED AND JAN! Fred and Jan, are you out there listening, you two lovebirds?”

Fred and Jan looked at each other. “Us?” Jan said. “Did you call in, Fred?”

“No. Did you?”

I thought they would guess. I thought they would both turn to me and say, “Ami must have done it!”

“‘I Still Love You,’ for Jan and Fred, FROM A SECRET, SPECIAL FRIEND! And, naturally, the tune is by … THE SECRETS!”

The song began. I was sure my face would give me away, but Jan and Fred never guessed. They kept looking at each other all through the song. Jan pointed at Fred. “You devil!” He shook his head and grinned and pointed back at her. “Not me,” she said. “I didn’t do it.” When the song came to an end, they kissed. It was perfect!

A few minutes later, Bill came in. Fred asked him if he wanted to stay to supper. “I never turn down food,” Bill said. “How you doing, Ami?”

“Oh, you and Ami met?” Fred said.

Bill winked and looked over at the cupboard where I’d left the knife. “We sure did. Some interesting meeting!”

Was he going to tell about the knife? I grabbed my books and ran up the stairs. Behind me, I could hear the three of them talking, Bill’s voice, then Fred and Jan laughing. I ran down the hall to my room and threw myself down on my bed with Unccy Bernard. I knew Bill was telling Fred and Jan what a fool I’d been.

Unccy patted my face. “Ami, sweetheart.” Then he patted his own face. “Unccy, sweetheart.” He flopped his head against me. “Ha ha ha, Ami? Unccy Bernard made a funny.”

“I don’t feel like laughing right now, Unccy.”

He put his paw to his forehead. “Thinking, you know. Have to make Ami laugh. Have to say something funny. Are you ready? What kind of dog doesn’t have a tail?” Unccy patted my arm. “Tough one. Take your time. What kind of dog doesn’t have a tail? Give up? Hot dog!”

“Oh, Unccy.”

“Tee hee hee,” he coaxed.

“Tee hee hee.”

“Thank you, my little sweetheart.” He flopped his head against my chest, and we lay down together.

A few moments later, there was a tap at the door and Jan looked in. I pushed Unccy under the covers. “Fred wants to know if you’re going to make that salad, Ami.” She came in and sat down on the bed. “How was your visit with your mom?”

“It was good.”

“Maybe I’ll go with Fred when he visits her next week. Do you think she’d mind?”

“No.” I sat up. Jan was looking really happy. Because of the song? If I hadn’t felt so miserable about Bill telling on me, I would have felt like Cinderella’s fairy godmother. Could you really make people happy that easily?

“The only thing is, Mom doesn’t have room for anybody. Fred just sleeps in a sleeping bag on the floor when he goes.”

“Well, I could do that, too. I’ll take my sleeping bag. It would be neat to see your mom again.”

I got up and started brushing my hair. “Jan? Did Bill, um, say anything about a knife?”

Jan piled her hair on top of her head and looked at herself in the mirror. “Not that I remember.”

I put my brush down. “He didn’t?”

“A knife? What about it?”

“Oh … nothing, really. Tell Fred I’ll be right down. I have to make a phone call.”

I went across the hall to my parents’ room and sat down on Mom’s side of the bed. I called Mia. “Hi!”

“Hi. Why’d you call?” She sounded really grumpy.

“To see if you survived Doctor Gage.”

“No, I didn’t. Anything else you want to know?”

“Did you get a shot?”

“I don’t want to talk about it!”

It didn’t seem like this conversation was going to go anywhere, so I told her about Harley Juster and the song and said I’d see her tomorrow.

Downstairs, Fred was making one of his special desserts, dumping yogurt, bananas, raisins, and apples into the blender.

Jan was setting the table. I tore apart a head of lettuce. Bill scraped a carrot. “Roootie toootie,” he hummed. He looked at me and winked.