But it was all he had. Not a trampoline or backyard Jacuzzi in sight.
He saved the best for last, leading her to an old gray-green tank with rust eating at its edges. Anyone would think that was cool, right? “Look at this. Some guy bought a frickin’ tank at an auction, and he’s been hiding it from his wife here for eight months. People are so weird.”
“Wow!” Pride sizzled through him at her open mouth and wide eyes. “That’s crazy! And how long is he going to try to hide it? Though I guess the tank is smaller than I’d expect.”
“Yeah, I looked it up. It’s some sort of light tank? Still pretty cool.”
“Definitely cool.”
More confident now, he smiled. “Are you afraid of heights?”
She looked up and around before answering. “I don’t think so.”
“Come on.” He led her to the tallest building on the grounds, built high for people who wanted to store their motorhomes and boats indoors. He gestured toward a metal ladder built into the rear of the building and out of sight of the security cameras. “Want to?”
“Heck yeah.” She grinned when he began to climb and immediately followed behind him.
“This is so cool!” she said when they got to the top. The whole neighborhood lay before them, though it really wasn’t much to see.
He pointed toward the huge field out back. “There are some good trails back there, if you’ve never been. I saw a porcupine once. And skunks. Do you have a bike?”
She nodded and turned in a slow circle. “I can see my house! My room’s on the other side, though. I have a view of the stupid highway. Hey, what’s the coolest thing you’ve seen here?”
“Here? You mean in storage?” At her nod, he frowned. “I don’t know. That tank, I guess. Oh, someone had a coffin once, but it was empty. They were just waiting until they needed it for themselves, which is pretty weird.”
“Yeah.” A breeze carried up the scent of spring mud. She looked out over the meadow to the trees beyond before turning toward the sound of a motor. A car drove up the long road and turned into the front gate before making its way to another building.
“You should get a listening device. You could spy on everyone.”
Everett held his breath for a moment, wanting to tell her he didn’t need any technology to spy. He could break into units and dig through people’s things whenever he liked. The words pushed at his teeth, wanting out. I might even learn how to pick locks. Her eyes would go wide again; she’d gasp and beg him to tell more.
He opened his mouth. Took a breath. But when she glanced over her shoulder at him, Everett closed his teeth with a snap. He couldn’t say it. None of the kids at school ever talked about his dad, because it was ancient history. But history lived forever in a town like this, like a hovering ghost, and what if she told someone that Everett was a criminal too?
“Look!” she gasped, pointing back toward the highway. “My dad’s truck!” A fire truck slid down the highway, lights flashing, though he could barely pick out the whine of the sirens. It moved through traffic like a toy, reminding Everett of a museum his mom had once taken him to that was filled with toy trains looping through miniature tunnels and over tiny bridges.
“Your dad is a firefighter?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s so cool! It must be scary, though.”
“Sometimes. But mostly it’s car crashes or other emergencies. There aren’t many fires in a place like this. He’s good at his job, so I don’t worry much. He’s just a great dad, honestly.” She suddenly stood a little straighter, and her eyes snapped toward Everett as if she’d just realized something important.
He sighed at the regret he could read clearly in her expression. “I guess you’ve heard the story, huh?”
“Um . . . About your dad? Yeah. Sorry.”
He shrugged. “It happened a long time ago, and a lot of fathers take off. It’s not that different for me. He left my mom to take care of everything like any other deadbeat. But I’m glad you have a great dad.” He moved closer to the edge of the roof, where a three-foot-tall edge protected them from falling.
He did miss having a dad, but nothing could be done about that. His dad couldn’t come back even if he wanted to. And probably he didn’t want to.
Josephine bumped his shoulder with hers. “Even great dads aren’t perfect, just so you know. My parents broke up three years ago. Mom says he had a midlife crisis. I honestly thought I’d never be happy again, and I was so mad at him. So . . . I know it’s hard.”