Buckskin Bandit by Dandi Daley Mackall Page B

Call me, though, and remind me,” Sal said, following Hawk back to Summer’s table.
    As soon as Hawk rejoined the popular group, she was showered with a million questions about modeling. I watched silent Summer and imagined steam coming out of her ears. If envy really is green, then Summer was a match for Ms. Brumby’s color of the day.
    â€œWell, we’ve got Sal and Hawk,” I said, throwing the rest of my lunch back into the sack.
    â€œBut where are we going to get four more riders by five o’clock?” Kaylee sounded desperate.
    Without looking like I was praying, I asked God in my head, Would you please find us four more riders?
    M cleared his throat. He kept clearing it until we looked at him. He was holding up a half-eaten sandwich, nibbled in the shape of a perfect U. Next to him, Catman held up one of his sandwiches, nibbled into a less-than-perfect but clearly readable S.
    â€œU.S.?” Kaylee asked. “As in the United States?”
    I stared at the sandwiches. If they’d wanted periods after the letters, I knew they would have nibbled them there. “It’s us, right?”
    Catman grinned. I think M’s nose twitched.
    â€œUs, as in you?” I asked. “Would you guys go with us to Happy Trails?”
    â€œSounds groovy!” Catman answered. “We thought you’d never ask.”
    â€œThat’s so nice of you!” Kaylee agreed. “But we still need two more riders.”
    M and Catman each grabbed a different sandwich and held it up. They’d eaten the sandwiches, leaving only the outlines of the letters C  and B.
    â€œCB?” Kaylee asked. “Like truckers use? Ask truckers, over a CB?”
    But I was looking at the tiny bread dots next to each letter. C. and B. Initials. “Claire and Bart!” I shouted. Claire and Bart Coolidge are Catman’s parents. He calls them by their first names when they’re not around.
    Catman and M grinned, finished their sandwiches in one bite, and rose from the table.
    â€œCatman, are you sure your parents will want to ride with us?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s cool,” Catman assured us. “My pad. Five o’clock.”

After school, I biked straight to my barn to say hey to Nickers, Buddy, Towaco, and Annie Goat. It would have been great to take Nickers for a long ride, but I knew better.
    Dad was waiting for me when I stepped into the house. “Where have you been? We have work to do, Winnie! Two of the showerheads aren’t working. We need more caulking. . . .” He kept up a steady stream of inventor talk as I followed him to the workshop.
    â€œOff to invent?” Lizzy asked when we passed through the kitchen. She was dumping stuff from cans into a casserole dish.
    I waved at her as we flew by, but I don’t think Dad heard her.
    â€œI should have dinner ready by four,” Lizzy called after us. In our house we eat when it’s ready or when we’re ready, anytime between three and nine.

    For the next hour Dad and I sanded and caulked and talked. We just talked about the science fair, but it was still talk. In the past couple of days, Dad and I had said more words to each other than we had in the past couple of months.
    Lizzy stuck her head into the shop to tell us dinner was ready.
    â€œThanks, Lizzy. I’ll have to eat fast. I promised Catman I’d be at his house at five.” I started to go in.
    â€œJust bring Winnie and me a plate out here, will you, Lizzy?” Dad asked from inside the shower stall. His voice sounded like a cartoon character. “We need to work right through dinner.”
    Lizzy brought us plates of food, and I scarfed down the casserole without recognizing the taste. But it was crunchy and good and peanut buttery.
    â€œThanks, Lizzy,” I said, handing her my empty plate. “Dad, I have to go.”
    Dad glanced at his pocket watch. “It won’t take you twenty minutes to walk