Shine - Lauren Myracle [66]
“Whoa,” I said. “Slow down. When was this, and where was Beef?”
“We were in Asheville so Beef could run an errand. That’s my job, to watch his Suzuki.”
“While he does what?”
“One time we rode up to some rich folks’ house, one of those mountain houses where the people only come up on the weekends.” His enthusiasm returned. “It was awesome.”
“Oh yeah?”
“They had these cement animals in their yard. Bunny rabbits, frogs, all kind of stuff. Even this big fat pig. That pig was funny.” He smiled. “They were hidden in the grass and by the porch and stuff. I don’t know why, but they were.”
“Probably just for decoration,” I said, not liking the idea of Robert and Beef trespassing on some rich folks’ yard. “Or to hide a key. Sometimes people hide keys under those things.”
His eyes brightened. “Ha! So that’s how Beef got in!”
“Beef broke into their house?” I said. This was not the Beef I knew. Why would he break into someone’s house? Unless . . . did it have to do with a drug run, maybe? Or that guy who hurt Beef’s leg? The wrestler? He was from Asheville.
“We stole one of them animals,” Robert went on. “A lamb, like in the Bible. Beef let me keep it. He had to go run some errand, and so he left me there with my lamb.”
I opened my mouth to protest. He didn’t give me the chance.
“Relax, the house people weren’t there. Anyway, Beef said they’d never know the lamb was gone, and it was my payment for being such a good friend.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Friend” was a funny word for an eleven-year-old playing lookout for a high school dropout.
“He said I could do whatever I wanted with it, so wanna know what I did? I smashed it on the driveway, that’s what. Bye-bye, lambie-pie.”
“You did not,” I said.
“Did so.”
I looked at him. Within half a minute, his eyes went jittering away. I reached across the table and took his sticky hands, surprising us both. “I don’t believe you.”
He tried to pull away.
“I think you put it back,” I went on. I watched his face. “Maybe you told Beef you broke it, but you gave that lamb back, didn’t you?”
“Nuh-uh, I smashed it to bits,” he insisted. “I threw it over a wall at the end of their yard. I threw it over that wall, and it smashed on the rocks below. Then I took another rock and banged it to dust.”
“I thought you smashed it on the driveway.”
He tried harder to get his hands back. “You shut up. And if you tell Beef, I’ll . . . I’ll . . .”
I released his hands. He fell against the back of the booth.
“I’m not going to tell Beef about the lamb,” I said. I slid out of my seat. “I am gonna tell him about Tommy lying, though.”
Robert went pale. “You better not!”
“I won’t tell him the Bailee-Ann part, and I won’t tell him it was you who told me. I just think Beef should know that Tommy lied about where he was the night Patrick was hurt.”
I adjusted my shirt with a tug and flipped my hair over my shoulders. “And Robert? I’m real proud of you for being straight with me, and for not smashing those people’s property. You’re a good kid.”
Color spread from his neck to his face to his sticking-out ears. “Ain’t a kid.”
“Tough. I’m proud of you anyway.”
Robert got up and said stiffly, “I am going to the john to drain my willy, and you better just . . . you better just . . .”
I waited.
“Don’t leave without me. Promise?” He stalked toward the bathroom, and I closed my eyes and pressed the heel of my palm to my forehead.
Good Lord.
ON THE BUS BACK TO BLACK CREEK, ROBERT LAY down on the seats across the aisle from me. I guess all that sugar did him in.
“Will you scratch my back?” he asked.
I sighed and scooched over so I could reach him. With my fingernails, I drew circles on top of his shirt.