won’t hear that anymore.” Holding the broom like a spear, he hurled it out the open window.
Socko rushed after Damien to see where it would land.
It flipped, then plummeted into the scrawny hedge in front of the building. Damien leaned his back against the wall and slid down to a sitting position.
“I got something for you,” Socko said, joining Damien on the floor. He hooked the string around his neck with a finger and lifted it over his head. “Here.” He dropped the key string over Damien’s head. “It’ll give you a place to go.”
Blaaaaat …
Down in the street Delia leaned on the car horn.
“Yeah, yeah,” Socko said under his breath, shoving to his feet. He listened to the
click
as he closed the door behind him for the last time. “Gotta do one more thing,” he said, pointing at the door to Junebug’s apartment.
He knocked, but her aunt answered. Socko caught a whiff of litter box and frying chicken.
“Junebug’s at the nursing home cutting old people’s toenails.”
“She’s gotta go to school to do that?” said Damien under his breath.
Socko was kind of relieved Junebug wasn’t home. “Just tell her good-bye for me … and thanks.”
Junebug’s aunt pushed the door shut.
“After you,” said Damien as the elevator door opened.
“No, after you.”
Damien grabbed his arm and they stepped in together. They rode the elevator to the top and then straight down, taking one last hurtle before walking out the front door of the Kludge.
Neither one of them looked at Rapp.
“Move it, Socko!” Delia leaned across the seat and opened the car door. “We have to pick up the General at the airport at 3:30!”
But Socko had stalled out. “This isn’t right.”
Damien gave Socko the shove that propelled him through the open door of the Suburban. “Do it, Socko. Get it over with.” Damien closed the door behind him. “I’ll be okay.”
Delia spread a Phat bag with a map penciled on it in Socko’s lap. “You’re the navigator.” But Socko barely noticed. Damien was on the other side of the closed door, his fists in his pockets, his gaze on the sidewalk.
Socko rolled the window down and held up his palm. “See ya later—seriously.” Damien’s hand came out of his pocket. Forearm to forearm, they locked hands.
When Delia touched the gas pedal, their hands were jerked apart. The Suburban jackrabbited forward and took a crazy tilt as two tires climbed the curb. Looking back, Socko saw that the trailer’s tires were still on the road, squealing along the curb.
Damien called after them through cupped hands. “You’re gonna die, man!”
Delia jerked the steering wheel left.
Whump
, the tires bounced down off the curb. Socko hung out the window. “I’ll call you!”
Wind whipping his hair, Socko kept his friend in sight for as long as he could. He held onto the window frame with one hand and waved with the other. Damien didn’t wave back. Instead he stood, fingers riveted to the
S
on his hat. But Damien was shrinking fast.
Although they were further away, Rapp and Meat seemed to shrink much more slowly.
9
TEE OLD FART
Delia gripped the steering wheel, perspiration glistening on her forehead and upper lip. “You sure you know how to drive?” Socko asked. She didn’t look exactly comfortable.
“I’m fine. Just keep us from getting lost, okay?”
Too late. They rolled past a convenience store called the Quick Stop. If the store had been Donatelli’s, the old guy coming out with a ribbon of scratch-off tickets in his hand would have been easy to name. But this was someone else’s neighborhood, someone else’s old guy.
“Right or left here, Socko?”
Socko turned the burger bag on his lap ninety degrees. It didn’t help. When it came to being a navigator, Socko stunk.
His mother sent him into two fast-food places for directions before they even got out of the city—she seemed to think they could trust anyone who flipped burgers.
As soon as they found the
Socko rushed after Damien to see where it would land.
It flipped, then plummeted into the scrawny hedge in front of the building. Damien leaned his back against the wall and slid down to a sitting position.
“I got something for you,” Socko said, joining Damien on the floor. He hooked the string around his neck with a finger and lifted it over his head. “Here.” He dropped the key string over Damien’s head. “It’ll give you a place to go.”
Blaaaaat …
Down in the street Delia leaned on the car horn.
“Yeah, yeah,” Socko said under his breath, shoving to his feet. He listened to the
click
as he closed the door behind him for the last time. “Gotta do one more thing,” he said, pointing at the door to Junebug’s apartment.
He knocked, but her aunt answered. Socko caught a whiff of litter box and frying chicken.
“Junebug’s at the nursing home cutting old people’s toenails.”
“She’s gotta go to school to do that?” said Damien under his breath.
Socko was kind of relieved Junebug wasn’t home. “Just tell her good-bye for me … and thanks.”
Junebug’s aunt pushed the door shut.
“After you,” said Damien as the elevator door opened.
“No, after you.”
Damien grabbed his arm and they stepped in together. They rode the elevator to the top and then straight down, taking one last hurtle before walking out the front door of the Kludge.
Neither one of them looked at Rapp.
“Move it, Socko!” Delia leaned across the seat and opened the car door. “We have to pick up the General at the airport at 3:30!”
But Socko had stalled out. “This isn’t right.”
Damien gave Socko the shove that propelled him through the open door of the Suburban. “Do it, Socko. Get it over with.” Damien closed the door behind him. “I’ll be okay.”
Delia spread a Phat bag with a map penciled on it in Socko’s lap. “You’re the navigator.” But Socko barely noticed. Damien was on the other side of the closed door, his fists in his pockets, his gaze on the sidewalk.
Socko rolled the window down and held up his palm. “See ya later—seriously.” Damien’s hand came out of his pocket. Forearm to forearm, they locked hands.
When Delia touched the gas pedal, their hands were jerked apart. The Suburban jackrabbited forward and took a crazy tilt as two tires climbed the curb. Looking back, Socko saw that the trailer’s tires were still on the road, squealing along the curb.
Damien called after them through cupped hands. “You’re gonna die, man!”
Delia jerked the steering wheel left.
Whump
, the tires bounced down off the curb. Socko hung out the window. “I’ll call you!”
Wind whipping his hair, Socko kept his friend in sight for as long as he could. He held onto the window frame with one hand and waved with the other. Damien didn’t wave back. Instead he stood, fingers riveted to the
S
on his hat. But Damien was shrinking fast.
Although they were further away, Rapp and Meat seemed to shrink much more slowly.
9
TEE OLD FART
Delia gripped the steering wheel, perspiration glistening on her forehead and upper lip. “You sure you know how to drive?” Socko asked. She didn’t look exactly comfortable.
“I’m fine. Just keep us from getting lost, okay?”
Too late. They rolled past a convenience store called the Quick Stop. If the store had been Donatelli’s, the old guy coming out with a ribbon of scratch-off tickets in his hand would have been easy to name. But this was someone else’s neighborhood, someone else’s old guy.
“Right or left here, Socko?”
Socko turned the burger bag on his lap ninety degrees. It didn’t help. When it came to being a navigator, Socko stunk.
His mother sent him into two fast-food places for directions before they even got out of the city—she seemed to think they could trust anyone who flipped burgers.
As soon as they found the
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