And Don't Bring Jeremy (11 page)

“I’m hungry,” he announced loudly, “and I’m sick and tired of hearing how wonderful Adam is.”

“Let’s order,” Mom said, trying to be a peacemaker, but Dad got annoyed.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Adam just pitched in an All-Star game and he did a darn good job of it.”

Jeremy flung out his hands, almost knocking over his water. “But how many times do you have to say it? It’s really very boring, you know,” he practically shouted. The man behind us turned to stare at him.

I cringed. Not again, I prayed. Just then the waitress walked over. “Are you folks ready to order?” She seemed to be about college age and had a real smile on her face.

Before Dad had a chance to tell her to come back in a few minutes so he could lecture Jeremy, I spoke up.

“I’ll have a cheeseburger and a Coke. And fried onion rings.”

Jeremy ordered the same. Then Mom ordered roast chicken, so Dad said he’d have his usual—the fisherman’s platter. By the time the waitress left, Dad and Jeremy had cooled down. But instead of leaving things be, Mom had to go ahead and make matters worse.

“Let’s get something straight, Jeremy,” she said firmly, looking my brother in the eye. “We’re proud of Adam for playing well. Just as we’re proud of you when you do something well. Like getting a good grade on a test.”

“Come on,” Jeremy groaned. “When are you going to let up? I told you I studied for that science test. Yesterday with Mrs. Dawson and all afternoon today.”

I looked at Jeremy. That didn’t sound like him, studying all afternoon, but I didn’t make a joke about it, or even mention that he wasn’t home when I’d left for the game. From the way he’d been acting these last couple of days, all excitable and irritable, I figured he’d only explode. I glanced at the kid who’d been in the All-Star game with me. He was sitting a few booths away. We could do very nicely without another of Jeremy’s outbursts.

He behaved himself for the rest of the meal, although I
was sure he was going to let loose when Dad reprimanded him for smearing tons of ketchup on his hamburger. We were allowed to pick whatever dessert we wanted. I chose blueberry crumb pie with vanilla ice cream. Jeremy got some gooey chocolate cake that kept him happy while he was eating it. Of course Mom and Dad both said no at the same time when he asked for another piece. I sighed as we got back into the car. Eating out with Jeremy wasn’t much fun.

The phone was ringing when we walked into the house. Since I was the first one in, I raced into the kitchen and picked up the receiver.

“Adam? It’s me. Danny.”

Something was wrong.

“Joe, the school custodian, just called me. The sets are ruined.”

He wailed out the last word and sobbed for a few minutes before I could get anything else out of him. What could he mean, the sets were ruined? They were in the auditorium, on the stage. I didn’t know if anyone bothered to actually lock the auditorium, but people were in and out of it all day. Besides, Joe was there after school.

“Are you sure?” I asked, certain he was mistaken.

“Of course I’m sure. Joe noticed all the lights on on the stage, so he went inside to turn them off. Somebody threw the sets down and spilled red paint all over them. Every one of them.” He started wailing again.

I felt sick. All those hours of work. Why, it took Danny days just to draw each of the sets.

“But who would do such a horrible thing?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, “but just let me get my hands on him. I’ll kill him, that’s what I’ll do.”

I hung up, shaken. What would they do about the play? It was less than a week away. I turned and noticed my parents and Jeremy staring at me.

“What’s wrong, Adam?” Mom asked.

“Someone destroyed the sets. Poured red paint on them.”

“That’s despicable!” Dad exclaimed. Mom put her arm around me.

Jeremy had a little smile on his face. “Those are the breaks of the game,” he said. He went upstairs to his room.

I felt like smashing his face in.

CHAPTER 10

I didn’t get much sleep that night. I kept rolling around in bed, thinking about the ruined sets. We’d worked so hard on the details, especially on the file cabinets in the third set. Who could have done such a rotten thing? I tried to figure it out by using deduction. Was it Eddie? Even he wouldn’t go that far, would he? Of course it could have been some stranger, or any of the kids in the school. Somehow, I couldn’t seem to shake the idea that maybe, just maybe, Jeremy did it. Lately he’d been acting real jealous of me. And he was actually happy when I told him that the sets had been destroyed. Not that that was proof of anything.

The next day in school everyone was talking about the ruined sets. Kids from all grades came over to Danny and me to say how sorry they were about what happened. I knew that the teachers were having a conference with our principal, Mr. Vogel, to decide what to do about the play. A few minutes before the end of recess, Danny and I were asked to go to the principal’s office. There were about six teachers sitting in a circle and Mr. Vogel. He
was a jolly, round man who smoked a pipe. We must have looked scared because he grinned at us and said, “Relax, fellers. We were just talking about the sets and trying to decide what to do.” Then he stared at each of us very intently. “I suppose it all depends on what you two say.”

Danny and I looked at each other.

“What I mean is,” he went on, “and what it comes down to is—do you boys think that you could redo the sets by Wednesday if you had lots and lots of help?”

Danny scratched his head, thinking. “Well,” he finally said, “I saved the original drawings, so I suppose I could draw them again.”

Mr. Vogel rubbed his hands together. “Splendid, splendid. That’s a good beginning, I must say.”

“And I could draw one of the sets, if you wouldn’t mind,” Mrs. Casey offered.

“Sure,” Danny said, smiling for the first time that day.

“But who would paint everything?” I asked. It had taken us weeks to do that.

“What if we organized crews?” Mr. Vogel asked.

“But who?” I asked again.

“All of the sixth graders would be willing to help,” Mrs. Hammel said. “I’m sure most of them could paint for an hour or two during the weekend. Then we have all day Monday and Tuesday during school.”

It wouldn’t be easy, I thought, telling each kid what color to use. And we had run out of some colors. And with so many people around, they’d probably get in each other’s way. And…

Danny must have been reading my thoughts. He elbowed my arm. “It’s worth giving it a try,” he said softly.

If he was willing to give it his all, who was I to stop it? “Sure, why not?” I said.

Mr. Vogel smiled. “Why don’t you go home and get your sketches, Danny? We can start right now.”

Danny cleared his throat. “All right, but first I’d like to ask you if you know or have any idea who could have destroyed the sets.”

Mr. Vogel stared at him, then at me. His eyes seemed to bore into mine until I felt so uncomfortable that I had to turn away. Finally he spoke:

“We’re not sure at this point, although it’s safe to say we have a few leads. Of course the incident had to have occurred some time between three o’clock, when school ended, and seven-fifteen, when Joe discovered the mess. Although it couldn’t have happened after six, we don’t think, because Joe remembers locking all the doors at that time.”

He suddenly smiled. “Let’s not worry about who the culprit or culprits are right now. The important thing is to get started immediately on the new sets. You’ve plenty of work ahead of you.”

* * *

And so we began Operation Sets that afternoon. Danny and Mrs. Casey finished drawing all three sets around three-thirty, and then we organized groups of five kids to paint each set. It got so crowded in the art room that we moved one set into the auditorium. This set up new problems, like someone needing a color paint that was in the other room. Mrs. Casey was a big help, going to the store twice to get some paints we needed and helping Danny and me supervise the three crews.

At five-thirty we called it quits, and it wasn’t a minute too soon. My back was aching from bending over. Danny said he couldn’t bear to see another paintbrush or he’d scream. We told the kids to come back at ten the next morning, which was Saturday. Then we got Joe and watched him lock the art room and the auditorium. Nothing was going to happen to these new sets!

We were leaving the school building and about to go our separate ways, when Danny stopped and shook his head. “All day I’ve been wondering and trying to think of who could have destroyed the sets.”

“Me, too,” I admitted. But I couldn’t bring myself to say whom I’d been considering.

Just then Eddie sauntered by, grinning. “I hear you two have had a little trouble.”

Danny’s mouth tightened. “See you tomorrow, Adam,” he said as he walked away.

I started going toward my house. Eddie walked beside me. “Cat got your tongue, Adam?”

“Go away, Eddie,” I said, disgusted.

“I will,” he said, “but first, don’t you want me to tell you who spilled the paint all over your sets?”

A shudder ran through my body. “What could you possibly know about it?” I asked. “Why don’t you just mind your own business?”

“But I can’t mind my own business,” he answered snidely. “I know who ruined your sets.”

I walked faster, hoping he’d go away. I was scared to hear what he had to say. It was probably all lies. But suddenly it was the most important thing in the world that I find out what he wanted to tell me.

“Yeah?” I said, trying to sound casual. “So who was it? Santa Claus?”

“It was your brother.”

“Jeremy?” I shrieked, although I
knew
that was what he’d say. “You’re crazy. You’re just trying to start trouble as usual.”

He grinned slyly. “You don’t like hearing that, do you? Well, it’s true, anyway.”

“You’re a liar,” I shouted. “Get lost.”

“I saw him creeping around the school yesterday. When I went to get water for everyone during the game. Remember?”

I did remember Mr. Gordon sending Eddie into the school to refill the huge thermos he brought to every baseball game. “You
saw
him?” I asked.

“In the hall. Of course he wasn’t doing anything that very second. I guess he waited until I left.”

I thought a minute. “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he went into the school to get some water, too.”

“Could be, except that he looked guilty when he saw me. And I heard that they found something belonging to Jeremy in the auditorium. A ruler with his name on it.”

“How do you know?” I asked, suddenly feeling sick.

“A kid on my block told me. Didn’t you know about the ruler?”

He wasn’t lying now. I could tell. I felt nauseated with fear and humiliation. I hadn’t known about the ruler. And when I’d been in Mr. Vogel’s office, he’d never said a word about it. I could feel my ears turning red, just imagining what Mr. Vogel and all those teachers must have been thinking while I was there. But I refused to accept the idea that Jeremy was the one who did it.

“You’re just saying that because you’re mad at my brother,” I yelled at Eddie, ready to punch him. “Because he beat you up in school.”

“Come on, Adam,” he said, pushing aside my fist. “You know how jealous he is of you. Remember how angry he got about his garden? I mean, he tore up your entire collection of baseball cards, and all the ones I gave you, just ’cause you stepped on one of his plants.”

“Four plants,” I corrected him. But Eddie was right. Jeremy
was
jealous of me. I’d only begun to realize how jealous the night before in the diner.

Eddie must have seen he’d gotten to me, because he clapped his hand on my shoulder and grinned.

“Don’t take it so hard. I mean, what can you expect from a re-tard.”

I shrugged his arm away. “Get lost, Gordon. You’re nothing but a creep.”

“So that’s the thanks I get for telling you,” he grumbled. “I should have saved my breath.”

I walked away without answering. Nerd! It was plain to see that he
enjoyed
telling me it was Jeremy.

When I got home Mom was there. She looked pale and shaken, the way she looked when Grandma died three years before.

“Where’s Jeremy?” I asked after I kissed her cheek, something I’d stopped doing lately.

“In his room. We saw Mr. Vogel this afternoon.”

“Mr. Vogel?” So it was true? In the back of my mind I’d still hoped that Eddie had been lying about the ruler.

“They found a ruler with Jeremy’s name on it in the auditorium near the sets.”

“What does Jeremy say?”

Mom sighed deeply, then sank into one of the kitchen chairs. “He claims that he hadn’t been in the auditorium, or in the school for that matter, since your spring concert last month.”

“But what about the ruler?”

“I lost it. I don’t remember when.”

I spun around. Jeremy was standing in the kitchen doorway. His eyes were red. I could tell he’d been crying.