Summer on the Moon (13 page)

Socko and Livvy lay on their stomachs at the edge of the empty pool. The early morning sun cast a sharp shadow across the floor of the blue concrete hole.

“That is one
huge
rat!” Livvy breathed.

Socko took his eyes off the animal and stared at her—she had to be kidding. It was definitely an opossum. Even living in the city all his life, he knew that.

The opossum rambled to the deep end of the pool, tried to scrabble up the wall, then slid back down. “It’ll never get out that way,” said Livvy. The opossum lay quiet for a few seconds. “You think there’s something wrong with it?”

“Maybe it’s overheated or something.” The animal tottered to its feet, then stumbled out of the shadow. In the sunlight its fur had a greasy shine.

“Did you see rats that big when you lived in the city?”

She
wasn’t
kidding; she really thought it was a rat. Socko decided to string her along. “Oh yeah, we had ’em that size and bigger. Not in our apartment, but around the Dumpsters and stuff.” He didn’t want her to think they’d had rats personally. But even though Delia had kept their place clean, rats came in now and then from other apartments. Sometimes he’d wake up to the snap of a springing trap, followed by the scream of a rat that was only half-dead—another thing he’d never tell Livvy about.

“I’ve seen rats at the pet store.” Livvy rested her chin on her folded arms. “But they weren’t this big, and they were cuter.”

He wished Damien were here. Damien knew how to take a story right up to the edge. “This is a different species.
Ratus giganticus
.”

Livvy looked suspicious. He kept a straight face.
Ratus giganticus
walked into a side wall, then shook itself.

She knelt up. “I guess you’ll have to teach me to skate somewhere else.”

“We can’t just walk away and leave him in there.”

Her nose wrinkled. “I don’t know, Socko. It might be rabid.”

The opossum yawned, showing off sharp yellow teeth.

“But if we don’t help it get out, it’ll starve or die of thirst.”

“You’re right.” Livvy dug for the cell in her pocket. “Let’s call someone.”

“Who? The rat suicide helpline?” Socko jumped into the pool, the smack of his sneaker soles reverberating off the pool walls. The opossum whirled around to face him. Socko held out his hands. “It’s okay, man, it’s okay.” The opossum puffed up until every hair stood on end. Socko was within three feet when its mouth gaped and it let out a hiss.

Socko fell back a step.

“Give it up, Socko. It’s not worth getting bitten!”

Socko didn’t want to get bitten, but he didn’t want to give up either. “Wait. Genius idea.” He ran at the short wall and vaulted out of the pool. “I’ll throw something over it.”

They found a dusty blue tarp near one of the heaps of dead trees.

“How are you going to do this?” she asked.

“You know, toss it over him and wrap him up.” He and Damien had never been much into planning. They got an idea and they did it.

“What if it runs out from under the tarp and bites you?”

“I won’t get bit!” Socko jumped back into the pool and held the tarp out in front of him. Advancing inch by inch, he tried not to step on the plastic or rattle it. Unexpected sounds seemed to incense the opossum.

Although it was hissing and flashing its yellow teeth, he noticed that the animal was backing steadily toward the wall at the deep end. Socko began to feel sorry for it. “Hey, I’m not trying to mess with you. I just wanna get you outta here.”

Livvy danced along the edge of the pool, following the action. “Don’t let it squinch itself up against the wall! You won’t be able to get the tarp over it. Socko, it’s about to squinch!”

“Go over there and make a loud noise. Scare him my way.”

Livvy dashed to the edge at the deep end. “Happy birthday to you!” Her thin, high-pitched voice cut through the air. Socko wished he could cover his ears. And he wasn’t the only one. “Happy birthday to you!” Her singing enraged
Ratus giganticus
so much, it charged.

No time to think, Socko flung the tarp over the opossum and fell on it. Hoping he hadn’t landed on it too hard, he knelt, bunched the blue plastic around the animal, and picked it up.

“Good work!” Livvy reached out. “Pass him to me.” Her blonde hair riffled in the wind, brushing his arm as he handed up the heavy bundle of crumpled tarp. Walking to the shallow end to climb out, he could feel the place where her hair had touched him.

By the time he reached her, the way-to-go look in her eyes was gone. She stared up at him through her bangs. “He isn’t moving, Socko. At all.”

It’s playing possum
, Socko thought.
This is so cool!
“I forgot. The bigger species of rats have weak hearts.”

“You mean you killed him?”

“Guess we’d better check.”

While he scouted for a good place to lay down the opossum, Livvy followed him anxiously. “If he’s alive, he’s got to be suffocating inside this tarp!”

Socko wanted the opossum to wake up someplace where he’d feel at home. But when it came to natural habitats, there weren’t many choices around here. He settled for a spot near one of the heaps of bulldozed trees. Wildlife liked brush piles, and this was a brush pile on steroids.

Livvy set down the bundle and stepped back. “You do it.”

When Socko unwrapped the animal, it lay on its side, paws curled against its chest. Saliva foamed in its open mouth.

Livvy dropped to her knees. “It looks really dead.”

“It can’t be!” Socko’s knees hit the ground too. “It isn’t bleeding or anything.” He’d seen plenty of dead animals on nature shows dangling from the jaws of a big cat or a bear; he’d seen Frankie dead in the alley behind the Kludge. There was always blood.

“You fell on it pretty hard.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. His first encounter with a wild animal and he’d killed it.

“Oh, gag!” Livvy slapped a hand over her nose and mouth. “Can dead things rot that fast?”

But for Socko the sudden putrid smell was good news—make that great news. He knew that to put off predators, opossums could emit a rotten smell.

“I know you didn’t mean to kill it, Socko, and it’s only a giant rat, but ten minutes ago it was alive,” Livvy said softly. “Sad. You think we should bury it?”

Socko saw a paw twitch. “Hey, watch this.” He held his open hands over the dead rat. “Rise!” he commanded.

The word had barely left his lips when the possum yawned and scrabbled to its feet. After giving its stiff fur a shake, it turned its back on the pile of dead trees and ambled slowly away into the scraped landscape.

“Socko! What—what just happened?” Livvy sounded suspicious.

He shrugged. “A miracle.”

He could tell she knew he had tricked her somehow, but she hadn’t figured it out yet.

“I don’t want to learn to skate anymore,” she said.

“Fine.” It had gotten too hot for skating in the pool anyway, and he hadn’t wanted to teach her to skate in the first place. They went back to his house, where Livvy told the General all about the “giant rat.”

The old man listened intently. “Sounds more like a possum to me.”

Socko reached into the refrigerator to grab the milk. “Yeah, it was.”

“Wait! It was an opossum, and you knew it all along?” Livvy asked.

“Well, yeah.”

“Socko! That was a mean trick! Thanks a lot for making me look stupid.”

“You
were
stupid. Who doesn’t know the difference between a rat and a possum?”

Livvy turned and flew out the front door, slamming it hard behind her.

Through the window, Socko and the General watched her surge across the street. “Definitely not a limp noodle,” said his great-grandfather.

Socko didn’t get it. If he’d tricked Damien, his friend would’ve said, “Good one!” and then gotten him back for it later. And who cared about looking stupid? He looked stupid all the time.

When he woke up the next morning, Socko rolled off his cot and walked over to the window. It looked pretty quiet across the street.

Maybe no one was stirring at Livvy’s house, but the day had started a while ago at his. Delia was standing in the driveway dressed for work. Paper hat pinned to her hair, she was staring at the dirt in the yard, which had yet to show a hint of green.

Socko pulled on a T-shirt and shorts, shoved his feet into his sneakers, and snuck down the stairs.

“Boo!” rasped a creaky voice.

Socko clutched his chest. “Don’t
do
that!”

The General was already at the window, seated in his wheelchair. He was wearing his GI pajamas (today’s baggy boxers were splotched with American flags). “Delia Marie’s outside lecturing the grass seed,” the old man said. “Seeds need regular watering, not crazy talk. Tell her to buy herself a hose.”

But Socko planned to talk to her about Damien, not lawns. He pushed open the front door.

“And you just have to work a little harder!” his mother said, shaking a finger at the yard.

He closed the door behind him. “Mom? You
do
know you’re talking to dirt, right?”

Delia clenched her fists. “We traded everything so we could have a lawn. We had friends. I could walk to my job.” She held out an arm.
“Get over here. I need a little sugar.”

Hoping no one across the street was watching, Socko trotted over to her. His mother’s arm hugged his waist. His arm draped her shoulders. “Hey, Mom, are you shrinking or something?”

“It sure feels that way.” The arm around his waist tightened. “Socko? I gotta tell you something.”

“Yeah?” The worry-sick feeling sat like a weight in his stomach.

“I walked by the old place yesterday,” she said. “I haven’t seen Junebug for a couple of days and I thought maybe Damien would talk to me if he was by himself. Lucky thing Mr. Marvin was in the lobby to let me in.”

“Guess he didn’t get evicted yet.” Socko wanted to slow the story down, afraid to hear the “something” Delia had to tell him.

She didn’t seem to be in a hurry either. “Can you believe it? He said there are new people in 4A.”

Socko felt strange, like someone else was wearing his clothes. And where could Damien go now when he needed to hide?

“The elevator was broke, of course. I had to climb the stairs—I sure don’t miss
that
.”

“Did you see Junebug?”

“No. Her aunt opened the door with the chain on—you know how she does. She said Junebug and Rapp had had a big fight, and now they were out somewhere making up. But she did have some good news. Junebug finished her nurse’s aide program, number two in her class!”

“Did she get a job?”

“Not yet. Her aunt said she’s filled out loads of applications, but so far nothing.”

“Then what was the point?” He stepped out from under his mother’s arm so he could see her face. “What about Damien?”

She rested her broad back against the car door and sighed. “I knocked and he came out—his mom and her boyfriend were home, yelling like usual. Boy, was that kid jumpy. He kept checking the hall, checking the stairwell door—all the time checking. I told him you want to talk to him. He said talking wouldn’t help.”

“Take me back home just once, Mom. I gotta see him!”

“I am not taking you back, and don’t even think of trying to get there on your own. A clean break is the only way.”

“He’s still my best friend!”

“Listen, he sent you something.” Delia opened the car door and reached into the glove compartment. “Here.” She turned around and flopped Damien’s Superman cap into his hand.

Socko stared at it. “Why’s he giving this to me?” Without Damien’s head inside it looked flat, like it had been run over. “This hat makes him invincible.”

“I don’t know, he just said to give it to you. He’s wearing a new hat these days.”

The cap’s original blue had faded to gray. On the inside, printed on the sweatband in ballpoint pen, were the words “Propty of Damien Rivera. YOU TOUCH YOU DIE!”

“Damien never takes this hat off.”

His mother lifted the cap out of his hands. “Things change.” She reached up and tried to put the cap on his head, but he pulled away.

“If you don’t want to wear it, I could use a little invincibility!” She plopped the hat on her own head and pointed at the lawn. “Grow!”

Socko didn’t laugh. “Seeds need water, Mom. Buy a hose.”

“Okay, I’ll buy a hose.” She took the hat off again and rubbed her thumb slowly across the embroidered
S
. “We’re on our own here, Socko. You, me, and the old man.”

“I
hate
it here.”

“Maybe this isn’t the dream I hoped it would be, but it’s still way better than what we had. The Kludge is an ugly old place, a dead end, and I’m glad we’re out of there.” He didn’t answer. “Come on, Socko,” she begged. “I’m not getting much backup from the General, but
you
I count on.”

He looked away.

Something bumped his arm. “Go on, take this.” His mother was holding Damien’s hat out to him. “He wants you to have it.”

He was locked in an upstairs bathroom when he finally set the hat on his head. Nothing about it felt or looked right. He could see in the mirror that it sat too high—Damien sure had a small head. He flipped the cap off, adjusted the strap to its largest setting, and put it on. He pulled the bill way down on his forehead. This was the way Damien wore it.

It fit better now, but it was still Damien’s hat. Why had his friend sent it to him?

Maybe Damien didn’t need it anymore. If he was hanging out with the Tarantulas, he probably thought he was invincible for real. But he had to know that with Rapp things could go bad fast. No, if Damien was wearing a Tarantula hat, he was just going along to get along.

Or maybe sending the hat was a message. But if it was, Socko couldn’t figure it out. Did it mean Damien needed help? If only he could talk to him.

He wandered back to his room, leaned on the windowsill, and stared at the house across the street.

As he watched, its front door opened. Livvy trudged across the street, her fists clenched.

The doorbell rang. “Socko?” the General yelled. “Your girlfriend’s here!”

Socko didn’t answer. In a few seconds he heard the front door open. “He’s in the john,” said the General. “I think he fell in.”

Socko was miming bashing his head into the wall when he heard Livvy sob. He stopped mid-bash. What was
that
all about? He eased himself down three steps, to the point where the staircase turned, and sat down. He couldn’t see what was going on, but he could hear the conversation.

“They promised! They absolutely promised!”

“Who promised what?” asked the General.

“My parents! They promised I could always go to Haworth Prep, no matter what.”

“Circumstances change,” said the General. “I doubt they built Moon Ridge thinking they’d only sell one house. Unless I miss my guess, their business is in trouble.”

“That’s not it. They think public school will be
good
for me, a broadening experience.”

“Nothing wrong with public school.” The General wasn’t offering any sympathy.

“But I
have
to go back to Haworth. All my friends are there. And it’s ten times better than a public school.”

“We need a more up-to-date authority. Socko? Pick your butt up off that step and get down here.”

Socko jumped. How did the General know he was parked on the stairs?

Livvy was sitting on the floor with her back against the door when Socko came down. “Are you going to tell me how
great
public school is?” she asked.

“It’s not great, but it’s okay,” he said. “I’ve gone to public school all the way—and look at me!”

She was looking at him—more specifically, at his hat.

“So what do you want to know?” he asked before she could make a comment.

She squeezed the handkerchief that usually rode around in the General’s pocket—he must have passed it to her during the tearfest. Socko only hoped the old guy hadn’t used it first. “What’s public school like?” she asked.

“It’s like … school. You do stuff with words and numbers.”

She leaned forward. “Will they have algebra? I did pre-algebra last year.”

“I guess.” All the kids Socko knew at GC were still struggling with post-arithmetic.

“Do you think they’ll have a debating team?”

“We didn’t have one at my old school.” All “debates” at GC ended with two teachers pulling the debaters apart. “Does it matter?”

“I was team captain at Haworth.”

“I’ll bet you were,” said the General, folding his hands over his belly.

“What about school uniforms?”

“You wore a uniform? Is Haworth some kind of Catholic school?”

“No, just very traditional. At Haworth we wear plaid pleated skirts and white blouses with the school emblem embroidered on the pocket.” She ran a finger across her chest where the emblem would be, then blotted her eyes with the handkerchief. “Izzy and I were signed up for all the same classes this year.”

Socko put a hand on Damien’s Superman lid. “That’s tough.” Since Damien had been held back, they wouldn’t have been in any of the same classes. But he and his best friend would’ve still hung out together.

“Is Haworth one of those girls-only schools?” asked the General.

She nodded. “It’ll be kind of strange being in classes with guys.”

“Lucky for you Socko’s here to give you a little real-life practice. By the time you get to public school you’ll know what to expect.”

Livvy wadded up the handkerchief again. “That ball cap he’s wearing is putrid! Don’t tell me it’s public-school-boy typical.”

“Yup,” said the General. “Along with stinky sneakers and sweaty T-shirts.”

Livvy sniffed. “I have
so
much to look forward to …”

Socko saw her lips tremble. She stood up quickly and opened the door.

“Glad we could cheer you up!” said the General as the door closed behind her.

They watched Livvy cross the street, but she only made it as far as her own driveway, where she began shooting hoops. She threw the ball hard, like she was mad. It didn’t improve her aim any.

Socko ate breakfast with his great-grandfather, then looked out the window again. She was still there.

“You could sneak past her, maybe,” said the General.

Socko was getting used to the old man reading his mind. “It wouldn’t work.”

“Chicken.”

She whirled around the moment she heard his front door open.

“Just going for a walk,” he said.

“I’ll come with you.” She set the ball down in the driveway. “I’m tired of not hitting the hoop.”

They walked in silence until they reached a barely developed part of the subdivision.

Basements had been dug, the displaced dirt heaped in crumbling mounds. Socko had assumed the soil at Moon Ridge was pure sand, but just inches below the surface it turned to brick red clay. Having been excavated first, the sand was at the bottom of the piles. The exterior of each mound was pure clay.

In a rain, these mounds would turn slick as heck. Add a large square of cardboard and they’d be decent sledding hills.

Damien would have seen the possibilities immediately. Livvy didn’t even seem to notice the mounds, let alone their potential. “It’s getting hot out here,” she complained.

He was about to turn for home when he happened to look past a fence at the end of the cul-de-sac. “Hey, I see green!”

She shaded her eyes. “That’s Lorelei Meadows. My dad worked on that subdivision a few years ago.”

Socko sprinted to the fence, stepped up on the bottom rail, and threw a leg over.

Livvy followed him slowly. “What are you doing?”

“Checking it out. Is it illegal or something?” He dropped to the other side of the fence, landing soundlessly on a thick carpet of grass.

“Illegal, no. Pointless, yes.” She boosted herself up onto the fence. “Hey, wait for me!”