“Frankie, what do you think?” I whisper. “Can we put that in the newspaper?”
Frankie walks right past me without saying a word, angrily following Pete.
Will is still sitting naked on the sand, a funny look on his face, as if he’s just heard a sudden loud noise and lost his hearing. “Never again,” he says softly. “I can never talk to her again.”
Pete and Frankie are already into the trees, aiming for home. I run to catch up, kicking creek sand as I go. “Come on, Will! And like Pete said, don’t worry. You’ll see her again on Sunday!”
Chapter 8
THE TICKING TOMB
After the Sucker Hole incident, Will is so mad he don’t talk to us for a whole day. He stomps down the stairs next morning, thumping his feet like an elephant, and he scowls all through breakfast so that Dad gives him a frown over the pages of the paper. He’s only at the table long enough to shovel down a few forkfuls of Ma’s fresh scrambled eggs before slamming through the screen door off to God knows where.
Dad don’t even look up from the paper. “Pete, what happened?”
Pete crunches toast. “Sucker Hole yesterday. We were swimming and some girls saw us.”
The paper comes down.
“Is that all that happened?”
Pete nods. “Yes sir. But Will’s sweet on one of them.”
Dad looks at Ma.
Ma frowns.
Dad goes back to his paper. Pete goes back to his toast. Ma watches him. You can’t ever fool Ma. She knows there’s more to it, but she lets it lie.
It’d be different if she knew just who it was we saw.
That afternoon Will catches me as I’m trying to sneak a stack of blank paper out to the barn. I’d steered clear of him all day, but he comes across the yard like a torpedo.
“Don’t think Frankie’s jumping yesterday means you two can come with us to find that fighter.”
“Pete’s judging him, not you,” I fire back. “You’re just mad you were wrong! Frankie’s got plenty of courage.”
“We’ll see about that,” Will snaps, and he storms off to where Pete is splitting logs behind the woodpile. I don’t like that at all.
I rush and deliver the extra paper to Frankie at the typewriter in the barn. Then it’s back to bright sunlight: I got to find Pete and tell him not to listen to any of Will’s talk. I’m surprised to see both my brothers marching toward me. Will looks mighty pleased.
“Frankie’s got to do another test,” Pete says.
I ignore Will’s gleeful smile and ask Pete, “Ain’t his jump at the Sucker Hole proof enough?”
“This will be a different kind of test,” says Pete. “The Sucker Hole tested his physical courage. This will be a test of his mental courage.”
“Sounds stupid to me,” I declare. “Courage is courage! Will’s just sore he got spied on by a group of sneaky girls.”
Will goes beet red and opens his trap to holler at me, but Pete waves him off.
“I’m final judge, Jack. And I say Frankie’s got to do another test.”
Pete’s mind is made up.
I sigh. “What’s it got to be this time?”
Pete shakes his head. “Not now. Tonight. You’ll find out tonight.”
Will gives me a last nasty smile as they walk away.
It ain’t fair. The whole reason we want to go on the expedition is so we can make Pete famous enough that he won’t get drafted. Now he and Will are doing everything they can to keep us from going.
I go back to the barn and find Frankie hunched over his typewriter. I tell him.
“It doesn’t matter, Jack,” he says. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know my brothers,” I say. “They’ll come up with something really awful. They’ll—”
I stop when I see his face.
“Okay,” I say.
He goes back to typing.
I wait on pins and needles all that afternoon. At dinner, my brothers carry on like normal, fighting with each other and gulping down Ma’s mashed potatoes like it’s any old evening. Will is cheerful, and that gets me worried. I watch them both like a hawk all through supper.
When dinner ends, we wash and dry the dishes and then gather around the television to watch Walter Cronkite. On the TV, it’s more clips of people protesting in the streets, waving big hand-painted signs. After that, it’s boys jumping out of a helicopter in Vietnam, a flare trailing smoke.
I’m feeling crazier than a firefly in a jelly jar when Ma sends Frankie and me up the spiral staircase to bed and my brothers still ain’t said anything.