Crusader (8 page)

Suzie was watching the TV wall from her desk as I walked
in. She said, "I wish the sound were on. I want to hear what those guys have to say."

I said, "Can I use the computer? I have to revise my feature."

Suzie looked alarmed. "What for?"

"For class. Mr. Herman wants to put it into my portfolio."

"Will anybody else see it?"

No.

"Okay, then. Go ahead."

I logged on and located my document. Suzie called over to me, "Hey, you know what?
Angela Live
has its own website. I got onto it today. And guess what? You can see what her topics are going to be up to a week in advance. I'm glad I looked. I have a bus full of Brazilian teenagers coming in here on Friday. And guess what the topic is?"

"What?"

"'Teenagers in Brazil'! I couldn't believe my eyes. I called Sam up at Crescent and asked if I could borrow a big-screen TV for Friday. He didn't want to risk putting a big screen out in the mallway. He thinks somebody's gonna vandalize it. But he offered this—nine portable TVs. What do you think? I like it even better."

"Yeah. It looks pretty cool."

"I'm going to take the teenagers on a tour of the mall at three. It'll give me a chance to use my Spanish. I'll get them all back here at four, gathered around the TV wall, so they can watch Angela."

"Sounds okay. But, you know, they don't speak Spanish."

"Who don't?"

"The Brazilians. They speak Portuguese."

Suzie didn't want to believe me, I could tell, but she finally did. She said, "Is that right? They must understand it, though. If everybody else down there speaks it, they must understand it."

"You could give it a try." I looked back through the window. Angela del Fuego was feeling a guy's fur collar.

Suzie turned her attention to a FedEx envelope on her desk, so I got back to work on my feature. I quickly made about a dozen edits before she interrupted me again. "I helped organize a big fund-raiser last night at Marina Bay, a big political fund-raiser. People came to meet Mr. Lyons and to give him their support. You know he's running for the state senate? He has some famous campaign manager from Washington helping to get him elected. Your dad and I met him last night. His name is Philip Knowlton."

Suzie paused, as if waiting for me. I said, "Was he nice?"

She looked at me like maybe I was putting her on. But I wasn't. She answered, "He's not here to be nice, Roberta. He's here to get Mr. Lyons elected." Suzie opened a Twix bar. "But I guess he was nice enough. Basically, the more money you had to contribute to the campaign, the nicer he was to you."

"That's pretty creepy."

She gave me that same look. "No, that's just the way it is." Suzie bit the Twix in half. "He wants to schedule Mr. Lyons for an event' here in September."

"What event?"

"The new fountain. Mr. Lyons will be here to turn it on and to give a speech. Channel Three will definitely be here to cover it, and maybe Channel Fifty-seven and the Sunshine Network.

"'National attention' is the word they were using last night. Mr. Lyons needs to get 'national attention.'"

I started to point out to her that that was two words, but I caught myself. I got up to leave, but there was something about Suzie's look that made me stand still by the desk. She seemed to be struggling with something. She finally said to me, "Roberta, you know your dad and I are getting pretty close now. Right?"

"Uh-huh."

"I just want you to know that if you ever need to talk to me for ... girl talk? You know. I'm here for you."

I flashed back in horror to Mom's words from the dream,
Do you need to talk to me?
I wanted to shout at Suzie,
No! I don't need to talk to
you.
I need to talk to my mother.
But I only shouted to myself.

Suzie must have noticed the change in my face. She quickly added, "Of course, if you'd rather talk to someone else, that's fine, too. I'll understand. Okay?"

"Okay."

I hustled out of there.

As I passed the rotunda today, I heard a loud clanging sound. I looked over and saw Leo kneeling behind the
DANGER
horse. He looked up and saw me, too, which was bad, because I was already late.

He yelled, "Hey, Roberta! Come over here."

Leo is a skinny, wiry guy. He has one of those bodies that could be anywhere from thirty to seventy years old. He has a square head and big false teeth. His teeth are so big that they look like a mistake, like he got some big guy's teeth instead of his own. I called back, "I can't, Leo. I'm late. Can I talk to you on break?"

He yelled, "Come over here!" again. I looked ahead at Arcane, then I detoured over to the rotunda. Leo gestured around him. "Look at this, will you?" I guessed he was talking about the big hole and the loose tiles. "You got to tell your dad's girlfriend"—he bugged his eyes toward the office—"Suzie the Floozy over there, that this ain't gonna work."

"What isn't going to work, Leo?"

"This new fountain scam they got going now. They're telling everybody we got a new fountain. Do you see anything new here?"

"No. I guess not."

"I'm hooking up the old fountain. There ain't one new thing under here. Just an old pump, an old motor, and some very old pipes. They need to rip it all out and start over."

"But, Leo, isn't the whole point that they want the old fountain back? So people can remember what it was like ten years ago?"

"It broke ten years ago! That's why we shut it down and capped it."

"Oh." I looked nervously at Arcane.

Leo took pity on me. "Go on. If you gotta go to work, go on. But remember to tell her what I said."

I half ran the remaining twenty yards to Arcane. Kristin was alone behind the counter.

I said, "I'm sorry I'm late."

She said, "You're late?"

"Yeah. Is my dad here?"

"He's in the back, eating."

On weekdays Uncle Frank usually works from ten to five, and then Dad takes over from four to nine. Sometimes it's the opposite. Either way, that one hour when they overlap is uncomfortable for everybody.

Someone who looked at our business from the outside, like the mannequin in Slot #61, might think that Uncle Frank does all the work and Dad does nothing. That's probably how Karl and Kristin look at it. That's definitely how Uncle Frank looks at it. But the fact is my dad has been in the arcade business for twenty years. He really knows what he's doing. Uncle Frank has been in the arcade business for three years. He only thinks he knows what he's doing.

Uncle Frank soon came walking up the mallway from the north side. He was carrying some weird type of vacuum cleaner. Kristin greeted him with, "What's that, Daddy?"

"It's a shampooer. I rented it from Lombardo. I'm having nightmares about what's living in this carpet." Uncle Frank looked around the arcade, probably for Karl. He told Kristin, "I want Karl and the two stooges to do this, but I want you to supervise them. Okay?"

"Okay, Daddy."

"The two can move the furniture. Make sure they don't break anything." He studied the machine. "Karl can run the shampooer." He looked over at me and said, with a touch of pride, "Karl can run any machine." He looked back at Kristin. "But make sure he's thinking clear."

"Okay."

Devin walked by and stopped to look at Crusader. Uncle Frank said, so only Kristin and I could hear, "Look at that dirtbag, will you?"

Kristin agreed, "Gross."

"Somebody needs to tell that guy it's two more months till Halloween."

I told him, "He was in here last night with the goths. They were doing Vampire's Feast."

Uncle Frank told Kristin, "You call me if he even looks at you."

I followed Uncle Frank to the back, where he deposited the shampooer. Dad was leaning against a carton, eating a meatball sub. Uncle Frank didn't look at him, but he did ask, "So how did it go yesterday?"

Dad answered, "Not bad. A little slow."

"Slow? Then I hope you sent the useless twins home."

"No. I let em stay."

"You let them sit around on their butts all day?"

Dad winked at me. "I like to keep them around in case we get busy. You have good days and bad days in this business. You never know which one it is until the day is over."

Uncle Frank stepped into the open bathroom and started washing his hands.

I handed Dad my revised feature. He asked, "What's this, honey?"

"This is an improved version of my feature about the turtles. Mr. Herman's going to put it into my portfolio."

"Great. I'll read it right now. What's your portfolio?"

"It's a folder where you keep samples of your schoolwork. Your best work."

"Uh-huh. Now, tell me, is that something you can send to a college with your application?"

"I don't know. I guess so. If they want it."

Dad addressed Uncle Frank. "Roberta's going to the University of South Florida for a degree in journalism. It's all set. We bought that prepaid college plan for her when she was little. Now all she has to do is get decent grades." He looked at me. "Like she has been."

Uncle Frank said, "Good. That's good. I looked into that plan for Kristin, but we weren't even Florida residents till last year, not officially. So it wasn't worth it."

Dad said, "You gotta buy it when they're young. Roberta was only eight when Mary Ann got hers."

I couldn't believe my ears. Dad and Uncle Frank were having a real conversation! Uncle Frank asked him, "How much a month was it?"

"We didn't do the monthly plan. We plopped the whole thing down at once. That's the cheapest way to go. You pay five grand one time. It was all the money we had in the world. But now, ten years later, she's got a free ride to college." Dad looked
away. He always gets a sad look when he tells that prepaid college plan story.

Hawg, Ironman, and Karl arrived right at seven o'clock. Kristin put them to work with the rug shampooer. Hawg dragged the black platforms aside, Ironman picked up the trash under them, and Karl followed with the rug shampooer. It was a very efficient operation. It was also a very noisy operation, and the place looked like it was turned upside-down. Not too many customers ventured in.

Nina stopped by at about seven-thirty. Nina is Kristin's best friend. She's as glamorous as Kristin is, only in a darker, Latin kind of way. They both attend Our Lady of Lourdes Academy. It's a private school, mostly for rich Catholic girls. Nina is both rich and Catholic. Kristin is neither. Uncle Frank sent her there after he visited Memorial High and saw what the kids there look like.

Nina doesn't need to work. Her father is Dr. Navarro. He's the occupant of Slots #2 and 3, Florida Dermatology. It's one of three medical offices that he owns. Nina comes in whenever she feels like it to help him with the computerized billing. Tonight she didn't feel like helping, so she was hanging out at Arcane.

Uncle Frank never gives her a hard time for hanging out, like he does Hawg and Ironman. Uncle Frank thinks Nina is some kind of super-good, role-model girl. Maybe it's because she wears crosses around her neck. Or because she goes to Lourdes Academy. Or because her father is rich. Anyway, he's very much in favor of Kristin hanging out with her.

Whenever Nina is there, she and Kristin stand at the register and crack on guys mercilessly. They'll smile at a guy when he comes up to pay. Then they'll mutter "loser" and "scumbag" and stuff like that as soon as he turns around. It's pretty funny, if you're not the guy.

Hardly any guys came in tonight, so Nina turned her attention to the shampooing project. Nina asked Kristin, "What's the fat one's name again?"

"Hawg."

"Why do you call him that?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"Maybe I will." Nina called over the whirring of the shampooer, "Hey, Hawg!"

Hawg stopped dragging the Galactic Defender unit and turned to her. "What?"

"How come they call you that name?"

Hawg looked suspicious. He knew she was putting him on. "What name?"

"That nickname of yours."

"You mean Hawg?"

"Yeah. Other than the fact that, no offense, you kind of look like a pig. Why do they call you that?"

I don't think Hawg took offense. He answered seriously, "You ever hear of the Arkansas Razorbacks? The Razorback Hawgs?"

"No. Never did. What's that, a football team?"

"Yeah. I come from west Georgia, but that's my team. Always has been."

I think Nina would have been satisfied if the explanation had ended there, but it didn't. "A lot of Georgia boys root for the Bulldogs, from the University of Georgia in Athens, but not me."

Nina turned away and looked out into the mall, signaling that the conversation was over. But Hawg wasn't finished. He redirected his attention to Ironman and continued, "I ain't rootin' for no University of Georgia Bulldogs, and I ain't goin' there, either. I'm goin' to Fayetteville, Arkansas, home of the Arkansas Razorbacks."

Kristin actually seemed interested. She asked him, "So what are you doing down here?"

Hawg didn't like that question, even though it was Kristin who had asked it. He didn't look back at her. He looked at Ironman and said, "But first I gotta whomp on some of these sissy Florida boys and make a big name for myself. Then I can get me a football scholarship back up to Fayetteville."

Nina rolled her head and shoulders at Kristin, indicating they should take a walk in the mall. Kristin asked me, "Roberta, will you watch the register?"

I said, "Okay."

They headed out and immediately started to laugh about something, probably Hawg, as he went back to dragging furniture out of the way.

I took my dinner break at eight o'clock. I spotted Betty the Goth's black hair at the Chili Dog, so I cut over to Burger 'n' Fries. An old Greek couple owns the place. They don't speak very good English, but they're really nice. Most of the words that we say to each other are from their menu. I got the cheeseburger basket with a Mountain Dew and carried it to the nearest table without trash on it. But it turned out to be sticky. I checked the other tables around me; they weren't any better.