Is Anybody There? by Eve Bunting Page A

clock, Marcus?” she asked.
    “Your clock? You mean your little bedside clock?”
    “Yes. It’s the darndest thing. I can’t find it anywhere. I know it was there this morning. The alarm woke me up. Did you borrow it?”
    I shook my head, feeling cold and anxious. Too many weird things going on.
    “I didn’t think you did. Well, how could it vanish like this?”
    “Nick took it?” I hadn’t meant it to be a question, but that’s how it came out. Mom’s face changed. I wanted to look away because I could see she was getting angry.
    “I’m really tired of all this talk about Nick, Marcus. Now you’re being ridiculous.”
    “No I’m not. He did take it. And he
is
coming in our house when he knows we’re not here. Yesterday, or today, he used the toilet in our laundry room.”
    Mom sighed in an exasperated way. “So what if he did? Maybe he didn’t want to bother going upstairs when he was in the garage, or out in the yard. That’s such a big deal?”
    “I just …” How to explain this feeling? “He came in secretly. Even Miss Sarah didn’t see him.”
    “You mean you asked her? Honestly, Marcus!Well, it obviously
is
a big deal to you so let’s just find out what Nick has to say. That would seem to be the easiest thing. We’ll simply ask him if he took the clock, used the toilet, took—” She stopped. “What else is it he’s supposed to have taken?”
    “Bread and peanut butter,” I said weakly.
    “Oh yes. And the meat loaf. Didn’t you mention meat loaf?”
    She walked across to the phone, dialed.
    “I think maybe I’m wrong,” I said desperately. “Why don’t we just forget it tonight? We can—”
    “Nick?” Mom said into the phone. “This is Caroline. I wonder if you could come down here for a few minutes. Marcus and I would like to talk to you about something.”
    There was a pause before she said, “Thanks, Nick,” and hung up the phone.
    I guess Nick was coming.

CHAPTER
9
    It must have taken Nick about a minute to run down but it seemed longer. Mom and I waited in the living room, me with my hands in my pockets. The only thing I said was: “Want me to get you a towel to dry your hair?” and she shook her head.
    When he tapped the window, Mom opened the door.
    “Is something wrong?” He stepped past her, looking at me.
    “Sort of,” I said.
    “Let’s go into the kitchen.” Mom led the way and Nick spread his hands in a “what’s up?” kind of gesture at me. He was wearing blue pajama bottoms and a short terry robe. I looked through him as if he wasn’t there.
    Mom and I sat at one side of the table, Nick at the other. The accused! I thought.
    “Marcus is upset because he thinks you’re coming here when we’re not around,” Mom said. “Secretly.”
    “What makes you think that, Marcus?” Nick asked. I wondered if it meant he was guilty because he didn’t deny anything straight off.
    “Because someone’s been here a bunch of times. And you have a key,” I said.
    “Marcus thinks you’re taking stuff,” Mom added.
    Nick folded his big hands on the table in front of him.
    “I have never done that, Marcus,” he said. “I
have
been here a couple of times on my own. Once because your mother asked me to let the plumber in and stay while he worked. And once …” He turned to Mom. “Didn’t I take a delivery of something, Caroline?”
    “The chair. From Krenwinkle’s.”
    “But I didn’t come secretly, and I promise I didn’t take anything. I think I made myself a cup of instant coffee—”
    “Oh stop it, Nick,” Mom said wearily. “Marcus, can’t you see how silly this is?”
    I got up and took the spatula from the kitchen drawer.
    “What are you doing now?” Mom asked,but I didn’t reply. I brought back the clump of grass and slid it onto the table.
    Nick touched it the way I’d done.
    “It was on the floor in front of the laundry-room toilet,” I said.
    “Not from your shoe?” Nick asked. “Or yours, Caroline?”
    I answered for