Hideout Page 18

  Davey studied her for a moment. “Where will I stay while I make sure?” he said.

  I looked at Mom.

  She looked at Dad.

  Dad shrugged.

  “I don’t see why you can’t stay here,” Mom said. “If that’s fine with you, Sam?”

  “Awesome!” I said.

  Davey smiled, pleased with himself.

  “Davey,” Dad continued, “they found your father’s body. They’re going to figure out what happened. Do you know if he had heart issues?”

  I watched Davey, wondering how he’d react to thoughts of his dad.

  He shook his head like he didn’t mind thinking of it. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t remember.”

  Dad nodded considerately. “Well, we’ll get some answers. And we’ll have a proper funeral.”

  “Okay,” Davey said.

  44

  After supper Davey and I went back to my room. I told him to sit on the floor in front of the television. I flipped on the Xbox and sat beside him with the game controller.

  “Video games,” he said, like it was something he’d only seen a few times before.

  “Yeah,” I said. “We’ll see what Grover’s up to.”

  We waited while the game loaded.

  “I always wondered what you were doing,” Davey said. “I thought about where you were. I didn’t know it would be this nice.”

  “We’ll go over to Grover’s house tomorrow,” I said. “Then you’ll really see nice.”

  “Wonder how long I’ll get to live here?” he said.

  “I don’t know. Mom said sometimes it can take a while to find a family.”

  “Maybe nobody will want me,” he said.

  I looked at him. He was about to laugh, and I knew what he meant. We both cracked up at his joke.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That wouldn’t be so bad.”

  He shook his head. “No, it wouldn’t.”

  The game loaded and I typed in my password, Bream Chaser12.

  “I’ll bet Grover’s mad at me right now,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Well, not really. But he doesn’t have a lot of patience. Watch.”

  I submitted the password, and we were suddenly staring at a screen full of messages. Davey squinted his eyes and scooted closer to the television screen.

  Hello?

  Sam!

  I’m calling your house again if you don’t answer me in 10 seconds.

  10 … 9 … 8 … 7 … 6 … 5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1

  … Sam?

  I laughed. “He’s getting better,” I said. “You want to type something to him?”

  Davey looked at me like he wasn’t completely sure of the joke. He shook his head. I started typing a reply to Grover. “We’ll see how he’s doing,” I said. “And introduce you. He wants to know all about you.”

  * * *

  We never got to play any video games. We spent nearly an hour messaging back and forth with Grover, giving him details of our adventure. Davey didn’t type any of the messages himself, but it didn’t take him long to get a sense of Grover’s personality through the types of questions he asked and his explosive reaction to our responses. Eventually Davey began suggesting things for me to type.

  “Tell him I drink five-year-old Dr Pepper.”

  I typed it.

  Grover responded immediately.

  What? Does he want to die? Where do you even GET five-year-old Dr Pepper?!

  Davey and I couldn’t stop laughing.

  Dad brought one of our camping cots into my room and set it up beside my bed. Then Mom brought an extra pillow and blankets. I offered Davey my bed, but he insisted on taking the cot. Even though we’d slept that afternoon, both of us were getting tired again by ten o’clock. Mom came in once more to make sure we were comfortable in our beds, then she turned off the light and left us alone. We were still giggling from our chat session with Grover.

  “It’s really hard for him to believe some of this stuff,” I said.

  “Slade really wouldn’t have liked him,” Davey said.

  I laughed again. “No. Slade would not have liked him.”

  Our thoughts took over until we were quiet once more.

  “It’s all better now, Davey,” I finally said.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t know it could be this good.”

  “It seems like it was such a waste of time for me to be so worried about that fight I told you about.”

  “Sometimes you don’t know what you should worry about.”

  “What Mom told me was right. There’s just bad people in the world. Sometimes they do bad things to people like us. But it doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with us.”

  “But it makes you feel like something might be wrong with you, doesn’t it?”

  “And when you try to change, it just makes things worse.”

  “You just have to find the right people,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “And realize who your real friends are.”

  Neither of us spoke for a moment.

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are we going to do tomorrow?”

  “Go get my boat. Go see Grover.”

  “Okay.”

  A few more seconds of silence passed.

  “Sam?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  45

  The next morning Dad took me and Davey to get my boat.

  On the way, he asked us if we’d like to go out fishing with him on Saturday.

  Davey’s eyes went wide. “Sure,” he said.

  It was only a couple of miles to the launch at the end of Roys Road. It was nothing more than a gravel parking area between a cutout in the riverbank and an abandoned nightclub. I saw the Bream Chaser tied to what was left of a rickety dock.

  I got out of Dad’s Tahoe carrying two flotation vests, with Davey coming after me. For some reason he always slid across the seat and got out behind me instead of using his own door. Dad took a jerrican out of the back, and the three of us went down to the boat.

  “Looks to be all right,” Dad said.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, looking it over and stepping down into it.

  I put the flotation vests on the seat. Dad passed the jerrican to me and I stepped to the back, uncapped the tank, and began fueling it. Davey remained on the dock, squinting his eyes and moving them across the parking lot and up over the old nightclub.

  “I’ve been here before,” he said.

  Dad looked down at him.

  “This is where Slade dropped me off in the canoe,” he said.

  “My guys picked up Slade’s two friends last night,” Dad said. “Fred Kern and Jesse Harbison.”

  “They get the money?” I asked.

  Dad nodded. “Yep. And a bunch of dope.”

  “How long will they go to jail?” Davey asked.

  “It might be a while before they get convicted, but I imagine a long time.”

  Dad studied what I was doing again, watching the jerrican emptying into the tank. It used to make me nervous, him watching me like that, but I didn’t mind now.

  “Going to pay your old foster parent a visit today, Davey,” Dad said.

  Davey looked at him.

  “Put him in jail, too?” I asked.

  “We’ll make sure he doesn’t plan on being a foster parent again. And maybe there’s a few more things he’s up to that don’t sit right with me.”

  “Watch out for the dogs,” Davey said. “Most of them just bark, but there’s a pit bull called Bruno that acts like he wants to bite just about everybody. But he’s just playing. He likes pickled eggs. If you throw him some pickled eggs, he’ll leave you alone.”

  Dad studied Davey curiously. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

  I shook the last of the fuel out of the jerrican and passed it up to Dad. Then I recapped the tank, sat, and pulled the starter cord. After a few tries, th
e motor fired and rumbled to life.

  Davey got in and took his place on the front seat. Then we put on our vests and I began backing us out. Dad remained on the dock until we were motoring toward the river, then waved and started back to his truck.

  We passed the fish market where Slade had stolen the money, then the lumberyard where Grover had wrecked his boat. Davey looked from side to side and smiled at his blurry version of the scenery. I thought about him quietly paddling his canoe alone on this same route, just a few weeks before, and how much his life had changed in just that short time.

  We pulled up to Grover’s dock, and Davey got out and tied the bowline to their cleat like he was proud of knowing what to do.

  “They got a cleat,” he said.

  I just shook my head.

  Davey followed me up the lawn, gazing over my shoulder, his eyes slowly revealing the full extent of the Middletons’ house looming overhead.

  “Man,” he said.

  “He’s got his own lair,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We entered through the sitting room, and Davey followed me into Grover’s deserted playroom.

  “Wow,” he said, gazing around.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Big-screen television and about every video game there is. Refrigerator and microwave.”

  “Pool table,” Davey said.

  “He’s got lots more, but it’s all put away right now.”

  “He must be a millionaire,” Davey said.

  “His dad probably is,” I said, moving toward the stairs. “Come on.”

  I reached the top of the stairs and entered the hallway. I heard a vacuum running a few rooms away and guessed it was Natalia cleaning. Otherwise the house seemed its usual empty self. I went to Grover’s room and found the door open, with him sitting in the middle of the floor with his shirt off and his back to us. He was going through a picture album with the one arm that wasn’t in a cast. His torso was still bandaged.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He turned to me like he already knew I was there.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “This is Davey.”

  Davey lifted a finger at him. “Hey, Grover,” he said.

  Grover looked him over. “Hey, Davey. How’d y’all get here?”

  “My boat,” I said. “We found it.”

  I saw his Xbox sitting on the floor beside his bed and connected to a small television on his dresser. Then I studied the picture album he’d been flipping through. It looked like pictures of him when he was little, standing with his parents. He had the same fuzzy red hair, like a clown doll. He saw me looking and shut the book. I could tell something wasn’t quite right about him. I thought he’d be more excited and have more questions for us.

  “Help me up, will you?” he said.

  Davey and I approached him, and helped him up. Once he was standing he said we could let him go.

  “Can you walk?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I can walk. It’s just getting up and down that’s hard. Y’all wanna go downstairs?”

  “If you can make it. You thinking about moving down there again?” I asked.

  Grover began scuffling toward the door. “Thinking about it,” he said. “Come on. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  “We can’t stay long,” I said. “Mom’s taking us to get Davey new glasses.”

  “It’s important,” he said.

  Davey and I followed Grover as he slowly made his way downstairs into his lair. He sat on the sofa and pointed to the two beanbag chairs against the wall across from him.

  “Sit on that,” I told Davey. “They’re real comfortable.”

  Davey fell back onto the beanbag chair, and I could tell he liked it. I sat on the other one, and then we were looking at Grover, waiting to hear whatever he had to tell us.

  “My parents are getting a divorce,” he said.

  * * *

  Grover’s statement wasn’t what I expected.

  “When?” I said.

  “I don’t know exactly when it’s official, but Mom came home last night and gave Dad all the paperwork. I tried to message you, but you didn’t answer.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “Davey and I went to sleep right after we were texting you about the camp.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Grover said. “I guess I saw it coming.”

  “So what happens now?” I was suddenly worried that he’d tell me he was moving away.

  Grover shrugged. “I don’t know. They both came into my room separately and talked to me. Mom says she’s already got an apartment in town. She said she’s looking for a house.”

  “So you’re moving?”

  “I’ll probably be going to wherever Mom ends up living, every other week or something like that. I don’t think Dad plans on moving anywhere.”

  “That’s good,” I said, relieved. “I mean, that you won’t be totally gone.”

  “I guess the thing is, I’m just ready for everything to change. Even if my parents’ getting divorced is part of it.”

  “I felt like that, too,” Davey said. “At first I wanted to be with Slade and my dad. And I didn’t know how else it could be. Then I realized that I’d just made it all what I wanted in my head. And that maybe it was best that it was going to be another way.”

  “It may sound weird,” Grover said, “but maybe if we have two homes, then I’ll see my parents more. I think the reason they’re never here is because they just don’t want to be around each other.”

  “You’ve got to start getting out more, Grover. You can’t just sit in here all the time.”

  “I know. I tried.”

  “Well, you can’t just blow up and spaz out like that. I’ll teach you how to drive the Bream Chaser.”

  “I’m just ready for things to be different.”

  “I know,” I said. “And they are. For all of us. It’s going to be good.”

  Grover nodded, still considering everything.

  “I’ll bet we can use my dad’s boat,” Grover said. “He wouldn’t even notice.”

  I shook my head and stood. “We’re not talking about any of that until you’re better. Davey and I have to get back.”

  I walked over to the big-screen television, grabbed the remote control and the game controllers, brought them back, and set them on the sofa beside him.

  “You’re just going to have to stay down here and be old Grover for a little longer. When your arm and ribs get better, you can be new Grover.”

  “When are you coming back?”

  “Both of you guys are always asking me when I’m coming back. I always come back, don’t I? I’m sure I’ll be over here like a thousand more times. And you can always get on your bike and ride over to my house when you get well.”

  Grover frowned again. “Okay,” he said.

  “Come on, Davey.”

  “Check your Xbox messages,” Grover called after us.

  “Fine,” I said over my shoulder.

  * * *

  When we got back to the house Mom was still at work. We made plates from last night’s leftovers and were eating them on the dock when we heard the back door shut and saw her walking toward us. She said she’d already talked to two couples who wanted to come see Davey the next day.

  “That was quick,” I said.

  “The social committee has a waiting list,” she explained. “A lot of them are people who haven’t yet been a fit for one reason or another.”

  The people none of the kids wanted to live with, I thought to myself.

  “The process can take a long time,” Mom said to Davey. “Don’t get discouraged if these first two families don’t feel right to you.”

  “Okay,” Davey said.

  That afternoon Mom and I took Davey to the optometrist to get a prescription for new glasses. Once the doctor tested his vision he spoke to Mom about Davey’s condition and told her what Davey already knew. His eyes were damaged in a way that wasn’t compl
etely correctable, but the glasses would help some. After leaving the optometrist, we went to Walmart and ordered Davey a new set of glasses and got him some clothes that fit him better. When he tried the glasses on and looked at me, it reminded me of our time in the swamp and how he’d always looked and would always stay in my memory.

  “You’re a handsome young man, Davey,” Mom told him.

  “You think they’ll like me tomorrow?” he said.

  She put her hand on his head and rubbed his hair. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” she said.

  46

  Friday morning the first couple came by the house to meet Davey. The man was tall and thin and looked like he didn’t get a lot of sleep. He was manager of an AutoZone in Ocean Springs. His wife was short and plump and worked as a receptionist at the hospital in Biloxi. They had a daughter in high school.

  We all went into the living room, where Davey and Mom and I sat on the sofa and the couple sat in the wingback chairs across from us. Mom had told us that she already knew a lot about them from their application, but she asked them questions anyway. Things like where they were originally from and if they’d been married before or had any children from other relationships. The man was soft-spoken and seemed to prefer that his wife do most of the talking. After a moment the woman got a quizzical look on her face.

  “Haven’t we listed all of this on the paperwork?” she said.

  “Most of it you have,” Mom replied. “But I’d like Davey to hear it for himself, so we’re going to go over some of it again.”

  The woman raised her eyebrows.

  “Is there a problem with that?” Mom asked firmly.

  The woman’s eyebrows lowered. “No,” she said. “Not at all.”

  “Very well,” Mom continued. “Moving on … Tell us how often you go on vacation and what your ideal family vacation is.”

  I couldn’t remember being prouder of Mom than at that moment, looking out for Davey. But as the couple continued to talk about themselves and their life, it was hard to tell what Davey was thinking. He sat straight and leaned a little bit forward and listened intently with no expression.

  After Mom was finished she allowed the couple to ask their own questions.