Swear to Howdy

  Joey nudged him with his finger. “Go on, Tank, you're embarrassin' me.”

  Tank stayed put, blinkin' his eyes slow and careful, moving just his head from one side to the other.

  “He's a brick, Joey!” a boy hollered from behind him.

  “Yeah. A big green cow patty!”

  “A wart wagon!”

  Suddenly Tank shifted to the left and went Boiiiiiiing … Boiiiiiiing … Boiiiiiiiiing!

  “Told you!” Joey cried, chasing after him. “Told you he was a big green kangaroo!”

  The whole circle of heads followed after Tank, going up-down, up-down, up-down. “Daaaaaang,” the boys all cried. But Tank wasn't heading for boys.

  He was heading straight for the only string of girls.

  It was the strangest thing. It was like he aimed right for them. Like he knew they'd all squeal and let him through.

  Which is exactly what they did.

  “Close in,” Joey cried. “Close in!”

  About fifty boys pounced on Tank, and about forty-nine of them wound up with squishy green poop on them. But in the end, Joey got him back in the box and promised to bring him to school the next day, and we headed for home.

  When we got to the corner of Pickett and Lee, I said,“You know, Joey, you can't bring him back again. You gotta let him go.”

  “Why's that?”

  “What's he eat?”

  “Flies. Bugs. Nasty mosquitoes.”

  “You fed him any today?”

  “Hmmm,” he said. “Well, he's still poopin' good. Must mean he ain't totally depleted yet.”

  “Why don't we just put him back in the river? Catch him again some other day.”

  “Oh, like I'm ever gonna see this monster again once I let him go.”

  “Well, you can't keep him forever…”

  “Well, I ain't done with him yet.” He put the box down and took him out.

  “What you doin' now?”

  “I'm bettin' you.”

  “Bettin' me?” I asked him. “Betting me what?”

  “That he can hop clean across Lee in one jump.”

  “What if a car comes by?”

  “No cars is comin' by, Rusty-boy”

  “They come by all the time.”

  “Well there ain't none coming by now. Besides, they gotta stop at the light.”

  “Not if it's green!”

  “Don't be a wuss, Rusty. Are you in or not?”

  “Not.”

  “Well, shoot. Just cross over and catch him then.”

  “No.”

  He gave me a disgusted look. “Fine. I'll do the whole dang thing myself.”

  But Tank wouldn't jump for Joey. He just sat there, blinking his big black eyes, moving his head slowly from side to side.

  “He's thinkin', Joey. I swear, that frog's thinkin'.”

  “He's a bullfrog, Rusty. He don't think.” He nudged him. “Any time, Tank. Do your thing.”

  Then a big blue pickup rumbled up Lee and came to a stop at the intersection. Joey grabbed Tank around his belly to hold him safe, but when the pickup pulled forward along Lee and was almost right in front of us, Tank twisted his head and bit Joey on the hand. And he bit him good, 'cause one minute Joey's got him around the belly, and the next he's wailing, “Owwww!” and letting go.

  Then the most amazing thing happened. Tank jumped, boiiiiiiing, straight forward. And it looked like he was gonna splat right into the side of that truck, only he didn't collide with it. He landed smack-dab in the back of the bed, and stayed there, going along Lee, straight for the bridge.

  “Wait! Come back!” Joey cried, running out into the street, flagging madly after the pickup. “You got my frog, mister! You got my frog!”

  The pickup didn't even slow for him. It just rumbled along. And when it got to the Lee Street Bridge, Tank jumped again. I saw him, Joey saw him, but we ain't never told a soul about it 'cause folks all around would've called us nuts.

  See, Tank jumped out of the pickup, clean over the guardrail, and I swear to howdy, we heard him land in the river.

  That frog bummed himself a ride back home.

  9

  SISSY COOKS HER OWN GOOSE

  Amanda Jane and Sissy cornered us before we reached Joey's house. They grabbed each of us by an ear and dragged us along the blackberry thicket. “Owwww!” Joey and I wailed. “Let go! Let go!”

  “Hush up. Both of you just hush!” Amanda Jane hissed and dragged us along even harder.

  When they'd yanked us a good distance from the road, they let go and stood over us with their arms crossed tight. I figured we were in for it about Tank messin' up Amanda Jane's drawer, but what Amanda Jane said next confused me. Her eyes squinted down to little slits, and she zeroed in on Joey. “In the first place, I cannot believe you would snoop through my things. I have never done that to you. In the second place, if you breathe a word to Mama or Daddy, I'm gonna tell them about you puttin' that slimy monster in my drawer, about you swappin' out goldfish, and about Smoky.”

  Joey's eyes shifted from side to side. “I ain't done nothing with Smoky.”

  She snorted. “Oh, sure. Well I got a friend at school who owns a tracker.”

  “So?”

  “So he says his dog can track down anything. 'Specially dead cats. All he needs is a whiff of Smoky and he'll find him. Dead or alive, six feet under, or washed up the river, he'll find him.”

  Joey laughed. “Tell him to come on, then. I ain't done nothing with Smoky.”

  Joey just stood there staring her down, and finally she looked away. So Sissy took up the fight. “Look. Amanda Jane ain't told on you about the goldfish, about the frog turds or Smoky. All we're askin' is for you to do the same. Fair's fair.”

  Joey speared me with his elbow before I could say something to give away that we had no clue what they were talking about. Then he said to his sister, “You ain't got nothin' on me. The goldfish is doin' just fine—”

  “Thanks to my friend tellin' you how to fix things!”

  “And Tank got loose, is all. Ain't my fault he found your drawer comfy.”

  “Liar! Liar-liar-liar!” Amanda Jane screamed at him. “You knew I wouldn't do nothin' about it! You knew—”

  Sissy stopped her and pulled her aside. And while they had their heads together, whisperin' all frantic-like, I asked Joey, “You seen anything you weren't supposed to?”

  “It was her underwear drawer, Rusty. I didn't exactly go snoopin'.”

  “There was somethin' in it. And she thinks you saw it.”

  “Some kind of female accessory?”

  “Female accessory? What would that be?” I asked him.

  “Who knows? Girls got all sorts of secret stuff, don't they?”

  I thought about this, then said, “But why'd they be all bent outta shape about some female accessory?”

  “Maybe our mamas don't know they're at that level of accessorizin'?”

  I shook my head. “Ain't never heard of such a thing, Joey.”

  “Me neither.”

  “So it must be something else.”

  “Like…?”

  I shrugged. “Got me.”

  Amanda Jane and Sissy returned and sort of circled around, looking at us real suspicious-like. Finally Amanda Jane said, “We'll just call it even, okay? We won't tattle if you don't tattle.”

  I kept my mouth zipped while Joey looked from his sister to mine, cool as could be. Finally he said, “I ain't gonna tattle, Amanda Jane. Never planned to.”

  “Really?” she asked.

  “Really,” he said.

  Everyone looked at me, so I just shrugged and said, “I ain't gonna tattle,” which was the truth—how could I tattle on something I didn't know?

  “Well,” Amanda Jane said, blinking away. “Then run along home!”

  The minute we were alone, Joey said, “Shoot! I wish I'd dug through that drawer!”

  “Me too.”

  “Shoot!”

  Two days later I started figur
ing it out. Me and Dad were nosing through the refrigerator looking for something to eat, 'cause it was suppertime and we were both starved to death. Sissy and Mama hadn't even come home yet, and Dad was fluxing between his hunger and his worry. He hung on the refrigerator door, digging through leftovers, saying, “What do you suppose is keepin' them?” “Where do you suppose they are?” “Why do you suppose they haven't called?”

  I wasn't worried. I was hungry. “What do you suppose we should eat?”

  Then we heard them pull up the drive. Sissy came bounding out of the car carrying packages, Mama came bounding out of the car carrying supper.

  “Who's in the mood for barbeque?” Mama cried as she sashayed through the door.

  “Me!” I cried back, and tried to look in Sissy's packages. She snatched them back, so I asked her, “Whatcha got there?”

  Mama beat her to the answer. “Two new outfits and a pair of shoes besides!”

  Dad's eyebrows went up as he took the carryout from Mama. “Two new outfits?”

  “It's all right, Jimmy, it's all right. Jenna Mae got an A on the Civil War exam!”

  “She… did?” he asked, and his eyes bugged clean out. Sissy had never aced a test in her life.

  “See, Jimmy? Jenna's smart when she puts her mind to it. She and Amanda Jane got the two highest scores in the whole entire school! Can you believe it?”

  Sissy was back from dropping her packages in her room, so Dad said, “Well, congratulations, Jenna. I'm mighty proud of you.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.” She helped Mama spread plates around, saying, “And believe me, it was hard! Like, when it'd give you a choice of years, it'd be 1861, 1862, 1863, or 1864. It was pickier than anything.”

  “Out of twenty-two pages—”

  “Two hundred questions!” Sissy threw in.

  “Jenna Mae only missed four,” Mama said, beaming away.

  “Only four?” Dad asked.

  “Uh-huh,” Sissy said as we all scooted up to the table. She served herself some pulled pork, then passed the carton to Dad, saying, “I'll bet no one got those four right.”

  Mama scooped out some butter beans and said, “See what hard work and dedication will get you? Jenna Mae, I am just so proud!”

  I looked at Sissy and could feel it in my bones—that girl had cheated.

  After supper, I went over and looked in Joey's window. He was lying on his bed with his arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. I gave our secret tap on his window, and he sprung out of bed and waved me around to the side door.

  “I got it figured out, Joey,” I told him when I was safe inside his room. “Amanda Jane and Jenna Mae cheated on that Civil War test.”

  “I was in here thinkin' the same thing. I just can't figure out how.”

  “Well, I can,” I said, plopping on his bed.

  “How?”

  So I told him how Mama'd run off the tests upside down and backward, and had to rerun them.

  “She took a copy home?”

  “No! Mama'd never do that. Sissy and Jenna Mae stole one.”

  “How?”

  “I'm guessin' they went back to the high school and dug one out of the trash.”

  “Them two? Dig through trash?”

  “Better'n flunking, right? Which is what they woulda done if they'd taken it on their own.”

  “So all that studyin' they were doin'…?”

  “Was them lookin' up answers for a cheat sheet. Amanda Jane was most likely hiding the test in her underwear drawer.”

  “Daaaang,” Joey said. “Beats the dirt out of anything I've ever done.”

  I shook my head. “We do somethin' and sweat it out for days. They do somethin' and get rewarded. Mama bought Sissy two new outfits, and a pair of shoes besides!”

  “Yeah. And Amanda Jane gets a car.”

  “No!”

  “I can't believe it either, but Dad said she deserved it, and Mama said it was about time anyhow. They already went through the ads and lined up a test-drive for tomorrow.”

  I felt like smacking the wall. “We gotta do something about it!”

  He sighed. “I ain't riskin' Amanda Jane siccin' no tracker on Smoky.”

  “But it ain't fair!”

  “Life ain't fair, Rusty-boy,” he said, laying back on his bed with his arms behind his head. “Least that's what Dad always says.”

  The next morning, Sissy came out of her room in one of her new outfits. Mama told her she looked snappy. Dad said the same. I wanted to throw grape juice all over it.

  Boy! Was I ticked off. And if it had been between just me and Sissy and my parents, I probably would have done something about it. But it wasn't just us. It was Joey, too. If I told on Sissy, she'd tell on Joey—which would turn out real painful at his end. So I just bit my lip and held my juice.

  That afternoon, Sissy got a ride home in Amanda Jane's new car. “Dad took her out of school to buy it!” Joey whispered.

  “It's kinda ugly,” I whispered back. It was brown and big, with a bumper half off in back. “And why are they still sittin' in it?” They'd been parked out in front of the Bankses' since they got home, sorta bouncing around inside, giggling.

  “ 'Cause she thinks it's the best thing ever. And shoot, you can see why. She got out of school to buy it!”

  But when Mama got home that night, she wasn't bouncing around. Or giggling. Her lips were tight, and she barely said a word to anyone as she moved around the kitchen heating up leftover barbeque.

  And when we were all sitting down for supper, she looked square at Sissy and said, “I had a very upsetting conversation with Mr. Hickle today.”

  “He's upsettin' period,” Sissy said, heaping on beans.

  “He accused me of providing you and Amanda Jane with a copy of the test.”

  Sissy's jaw dropped. “What on earth…? That's the reward I get for studyin' so hard?”

  Dad's face clouded over. “That takes a lot of nerve!”

  “Amen to that,” Mama said. “But he's aware that I'm the one who ran off the test, and he's aware that prior to the test you were earning a D in the course.” Sissy started to say something, but Mama put her hand up. “I told him I'd warned you—that I'd seen the test and knew it was tough—but that I would never, ever, do such a thing.”

  Dad was ready to thunder, but he held back. And Sissy's eyes were wide as saucers as she said, “He believed you, didn't he? I'll tell him myself tomorrow, if you want. I'll tell him how you said it was against your morals, and how you…”

  From underneath the cushion on her chair, Mama pulled up a folded stack of papers. She said, “However, you did know I'd run the test off wrong. You did know there had to be bad copies in the school garbage. And”— she leveled a look at Sissy—“apparently you and Amanda Jane missed the same four questions.”

  Sissy just blinked at her.

  “So I hope you don't mind putting my worries to rest by answering a few questions.” Mama unfolded the papers and read, “What was the first state to secede from the Union? (a) Virginia, (b) Alabama, (c) Georgia, or (d) South Carolina.”

  “Mama, I cannot believe you're doin' this.” Sissy turned to Dad. “Daddy? Do you find this as insultin' as I do? She don't trust me!”

  Dad kept his eyes steady on Mama. “Just answer the question, Jenna Mae.”

  Sissy huffed and twitched and acted like she'd been insulted clear to the moon, but didn't come up with an answer.

  “Jenna Mae?” Mama asked her.

  Sissy looked at her, then straight at me. And boy, if looks could kill, I'd be one dead doggie. I opened my eyes wide and moved my head a little side to side.

  “Jenna!” Dad said. “Answer your mama.”

  For a second Sissy looked like a possum, lit up in the road. Then she blinked at Dad and snapped at Mama, “Well, repeat the question, then! You expect me to get it the very first time?”

  So Mama did. “What was the first state to secede from the Union? (a) Virginia, (b) Alabama, (c) Georgia, or (d)
South Carolina.”

  Wheels were spinnin' like mad inside Sissy's skull. “Virginia!” she said, all full of sass.

  Mama looked at her and bit her lip.

  Dad looked at Mama and said, “It's South Carolina, isn't it?”

  Mama nodded at him.

  “Well shoot!” Sissy said. “You got me all nervous, insultin' me like that. What do you expect?”

  Mama went back to the paper. “Okay, well… What was Ulysses S. Grant doing when the war broke out? (a) Attending West Point, (b) Conferring with Abraham Lincoln, (c) Working in a leather shop, or (d) Vacationing in Maryland.”

  “Attendin' West Point!” Sissy shot out.

  Dad shrugged.

  I was clueless, too.

  But Mama had the answers. “No, Jenna. He was working in a leather shop.”

  “So those must've been two of the ones I missed! Besides, you get your head chuck full of information for a particular day. When that day's over, you let it go. You expect me to go through my whole life with Civil War trivia stuck in my brain?”

  Mama just ignored her and read from the paper. “In what state did the Battle of Fredericksburg take place? (a) Virginia, (b) Tennessee, (c) Mississippi, or (d) Pennsylvania.”

  “Which battle?”

  “Fredericksburg.”

  “What states?”

  “Virginia, Tennessee, Mississippi, or Pennsylvania.”

  Sissy straightened her posture. “Pennsylvania!”

  Dad's eyebrow shot up. “Isn't it Virginia?”

  Mama nodded.

  “Everyone knows that… !” he said, looking dis-believingly at Sissy. “Even I know that.”

  “But, Daddy! I'm all panicked from the accusation! You can't expect me to think like this!”

  Mama ran through about ten more questions.

  Sissy got only one right.

  “Enough,” Dad finally said. “It's clear as day you cheated.” His nose was flaring. His lips were tight. He hadn't touched his barbeque. “You are grounded, young lady.”

  “But, Daddy… !”

  He stood halfway up and pointed a finger at her. “You're grounded, and… and I don't know what else. Your mama and I are going to have to discuss it.”

  Sissy started crying. “But, Daddy… it was an impossible test! Mr. Hickle's a war nut. Nobody could pass that thing!”