The Prisoner of Snowflake Falls (24 page)

“What made you change it?”

“All the pictures, I guess. I mean, you looked so happy together. You try to hide it. But I can tell how much you miss her.”

After that, Harley was quiet for a while. Like he was lost in his own thoughts. Then he said, “Well, you got me. What favor can I do for you?”

“I want you to attend the holiday sing-along.”

“Of all the favors you could ask for, why would you ask for that?”

“I have my reasons.”

Harley thought for a while. “Okay, a bet's a bet. But I'm not going alone. You're coming with me.”

“Why would you want to go with me?”

“Let's just say I have my reasons too.”

Then Harley Howard got all quiet again. He got so quiet that I couldn't stand it. “Do you want me to read to you?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “I feel like listening to some music for a while. There's a Sinatra record on the top of that stack. Put it on, will you?”

“I thought you said never to touch your record collection.”

“Never mind what I said, Henry. Just do it,” he said. “Keep the volume down low.” Then he added, “Please.”

I put the Sinatra record on the stereo and then put the old-fashioned needle on the old-fashioned record to hear it play. It was this song about being lonely in the middle of the night. When there was nobody else around to talk to or just be with. I'd never heard it before. But it kind of felt like I had.

I was about to leave when Harley said, “See you at the usual time on Wednesday.”

“You want me to come back after all this?” I asked. “You're going to have to get a new alarm code and everything.”

“Why?” asked Harley. “Are you planning on robbing me?”

“No,” I said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“So there's no reason I shouldn't trust you, right?”

“Since you put it that way…”

“That's the way I'm putting it.” And then, much to my surprise, he offered me a genuine smile. “I'll say one thing,” he added. “Life around you is never boring.” I was making my way toward the door when he spoke to me again. “Sorry about your mother,” he said. I told him thank you. And then there was nothing but the sound of the record until I was too far away to hear it anymore.

I was reasonably sure Harley wouldn't change his alarm code, which would make things a lot easier for Uncle Andy and the guys. But if Harley's attitude was a bit unexpected, I was in for an even bigger surprise.

It all started a few days later when George officially put me on the midnight drive-thru shift on the weekends. George asked me if I could keep a secret. “Absolutely not,” I replied.

“I'm serious, Henry,” said George. “Nobody can know about what you're going to see on the graveyard shift except the three of us.”

Before I could ask what George meant, Mr. Wingate came walking through the rear entrance in a long coat. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“I work here,” said Mr. Wingate, who took off his coat to reveal the full Top Kow uniform in all its bovine glory.

“What's going on?” I said.

“Harry will explain,” said George. “I have work to do.”

After George went back to his office, I said, “Harry?”

“He likes to call me that at work,” said Mr. Wingate. “It's the least I can do.” He reached under the counter and put on his official Top Kow cap. “George hired me with no fast-food experience whatsoever.” I guess I was too shocked at the sight of Harrison Wingate in Top Kow horns to say much of anything for a while. Then out of nowhere, Mr. Wingate said, “It takes a very smart guy to hot-wire a truck like the Devil's Dumpster.”

“It's a lot easier than most people think,” I said.

“It's not that easy,” observed Mr. Wingate.

“No offense,” I said, “but how would you know?”

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

“Why does everybody in this town keep asking me that?”

Mr. Wingate gave a little laugh. Then he got very serious. “I used to steal cars,” he said. “Just joyriding, mostly. I was desperate to impress Theodora back then.”

“You stole that convertible she keeps talking about?” I exclaimed.

“Theodora never knew it was stolen,” he explained. “After a while, she started dating some other guy. But I kept stealing cars.”

“What happened?”

“I was sent to a juvenile facility,” he said. “I met some counselors there who really turned me around. That's how I got back with Theodora. And that's why I became involved with the Second Chance program.”

“I can't believe you were ever dishonest,” I said as he got out the frozen hamburger patties. “You must need the extra money bad to be working here at this hour.”

“You know that five-minute shopping spree for the person who draws the winning ticket?” said Mr. Wingate. “With promotion, merchandise and other expenses, it's going to cost us just about everything we've managed to save.”

To tell you the truth, I was excited about the prospect of grabbing at merchandise without being sent to jail. I guess Mr. Wingate could tell what I was thinking. Because right away he told me I wasn't eligible. “For one thing, you're a minor,” he pointed out. “And for another, you're kind of like family.”

I asked him why the prize was so extravagant. “You have to think big for this to work,” he explained. “Besides, if I'm going to go bankrupt anyway, I might as well have a little fun.”

“Does Mrs. Wingate know you're working here?”

Mr. Wingate shook his head. “She's a very sound sleeper,” he said. “And she's usually out like a light by the time Oscar gets through with her.” Mr. Wingate smiled affectionately, as if he knew he was lucky to have a wife like Theodora. “She's woken up a couple of times to find me gone. But I just told her I like to go for walks at night sometimes. You know, for the stress.”

Then Mr. Wingate told me that if he had to shut down the store, he would probably have to take some sort of job at Biggie's.

“You really like this town, don't you?” I asked.

“It's my home, Henry.”

“I just don't understand why everybody has to make a big deal about vegetable-growing competitions and sing-alongs.”

“I noticed you ate your share of cotton candy at the Pumpkin Festival,” said Mr. Wingate. “I also noticed that you bought a jar of raspberry jam from Ms. Pendergast and Mr. Tait. That was very nice of you, Henry.”

“Well, I got a little caught up in Mr. Tait's enthusiasm when he won third prize,” I said. “I've never seen a person so happy with taking third place.”

Mr. Wingate smiled at me. “People in small towns are different,” he explained. “You'd be surprised at the things they can get excited about.” Mr. Wingate grinned. For the first time I could see a mischievous gleam in his eye behind the thick glasses. All of a sudden, it wasn't so hard to imagine him stealing cars.

“You're different here than you are at home,” I said.

“In what way?” he asked. When I hesitated, he said, “Let's you and me be just a couple of co-workers right now, okay?”

I nodded. “I don't know,” I said. “You seem more, you know, human.”

Mr. Wingate looked down at his speckled cow vest so that I could see the tips of his Top Kow horns. “It must be the uniform,” he said. Then he looked up and said, “I've been meaning to thank you for being so nice to Charlotte, Henry. It means a lot. To her and to me.”

He cleared his throat. “I know it wasn't right for you to steal that truck,” he said. “But I was very proud of you for standing up and taking your medicine like that. We all were.” I could tell Mr. Wingate really meant what he said. In his uniform he looked like a very emotional cow.

Just then, we could hear someone placing a drive-thru order. Harrison Wingate went over to the speaker and happily repeated the customer's request. “Two TK Frosties?” he said. “Of course, sir. Do you want sprinkles with that?”

That night, I went to sleep in the brand-new spare room and thought about what would make a grown man work at Top Kow Burgers. I guess when you have a family, you have to make all sorts of humiliating sacrifices. But when all was said and done, you knew you were doing the right thing.

I thought about how the people of Snowflake Falls would remember me after I ran off with Uncle Andy to Arizona. Because I felt a little guilty, I began to hang out with George at his gramma's house. We watched a few of his favorite
DVD
s. I even called him Speed once in a while.

George's gramma was very happy to have me visit. “You're the first person he's ever brought to the house, Henry,” she said.

George just grinned at his gramma and said, “I told you he'd come. That's how the Big H rolls.” After that he started to call me Big H all the time. As in, “Pass the pretzels, Big H.”

I guess, when it was all over, George would have a few other names for me. Like traitor and turncoat and a bunch of others I'd rather not contemplate. Then I started to think about Charlotte and how disappointed she would be. But maybe there was a way I could leave a taste of something good behind. Something that people would remember so they'd know I wasn't a totally bad guy.

I began to run through a short list of the most humiliating things that could happen to me. Then after a while, I stopped. Because I knew exactly what I had to do.

SIXTEEN

I
t took me a while. But finally I went up to Charlotte and said, “Okay, I'll do it.”

“Do what?” she asked suspiciously.

“I'll let you give me a haircut.”

I could tell Charlotte's previous experience at haircutting had left her skeptical. “And you won't run away until I tell you I'm finished?” she asked.

“I promise,” I said, feeling a drop of sweat ease its way down my scalp. “You can even make me look like that Roman soldier if you want.”

“You mean it?” she asked, all excited. “You'd do that for me?”

“Sure,” I said. “Knock yourself out.”

I thought maybe Charlotte would give me a bit of time to get used to the idea. But it turned out that she'd been waiting to use her new home-barber kit for quite some time. Plus, Harrison was at the store and Theodora was taking Oscar to an afternoon appointment with the pediatrician. “I think it might be best if we took advantage of the fact that we won't be interrupted,” said Charlotte.

Charlotte turned her bedroom into a temporary hair salon. I sat in her pink desk chair while she put a plastic cape around my neck and covered her pink rug with newspaper. Unfortunately, I had an excellent view of some of the old dolls she had practiced her styling skills on. They looked like their hair had been pulled out by the roots before being pasted back on in the dark.

Not that Charlotte didn't have an interesting technique. It involved her opening the big book of haircuts and peering intently at the guy who looked like the Roman soldier. She started to make cutting motions with her scissors in midair, getting closer and closer to my actual scalp while looking at the picture in the book.

“Oww!” I said. “Watch my ear!”

“I haven't even touched you yet,” she protested.

“Sorry, I thought I felt something.”

“Don't talk. I have to concentrate to make sure both sides are symmetrical.”

Charlotte moved her scissors back from my head and then zeroed in while snipping at a fast clip. Sort of like an airplane getting ready to land on the runway. I guess the scissors must have touched down eventually, because the next thing I knew there was a big pile of my hair on the newspaper. “I'm going to get the hand mirror now,” said Charlotte. Like she was warning me to be prepared for a major change in appearance.

I thought I was ready for anything. But nothing could have prepared me for the image I saw in Charlotte's pink hand mirror. I looked like a guy who had accidentally thrown himself into the path of lawn mower that had managed to confuse his hair for a clump of grass. Looking into the mirror was a frightening thing. But, for some reason, I could not bring myself to look away.

“What do you think?” asked Charlotte, all eager for my opinion.

I put down the mirror and looked at the anticipation of my happy reply on her eager barber's face. I wanted to tell Charlotte that it was the most horrible haircut I had ever experienced in all my years of haircuts. I wanted to tell her that the only reason she should pick up scissors again was to cut open a bag of potato chips.

Then I remembered that I was going to leave town in a moving van filled with Christmas presents that didn't belong to me. Charlotte was going to think such terrible things that not even the fact I was never going to see her again could make up for it. With this in mind, I swallowed hard and thought about what to tell her. “I think the raw talent is there,” I finally managed. “No question about that.”

“I know it's a little uneven in spots,” she admitted. “Maybe I should touch it up a bit.”

“No, no,” I urged. “I look Roman enough!”

“You really think so?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” I lied. “All that's missing is a gladiator's sword.” Then I took off the little plastic cape and said, “I almost feel like I should pay you.”

“Thank you, Henry.”

“For what?” I asked. “It'll probably all grow back.” I shouldn't have mentioned that last part, but Charlotte didn't notice. She was too busy getting choked up. “You have proven yourself to be a true and faithful friend, Henry Holloway. I'll never forget you as long as I live.”

All I could think of was that Charlotte was probably right. Even though there would come a time when she'd like to forget I ever existed.

It was not easy to go out in public the next day. The first thing Uncle Andy said when he saw me was, “What the heck happened to your hair?”