Boys in Control (6 page)

His brothers were still looking at Wally strangely, though, and Wally wondered if he and Peter were the only boys in Upshur County who had ever passed a May afternoon by spitting in the Buckman River.

Eventually, however, Peter began walking forward again, stopping now and then to try to see the river between the slats in the bridge, and at long last he reached the other side and started up the Malloys’ hilly lot.

“I sure didn't need this right now,” said Jake. “I'm trying not to let
anything
throw me off stride for Saturday's game. Clarksburg's going to be a tough team to beat.”

“Well, I sure didn't need it either,” said Josh. “What
if Beth brings those pictures to school and puts one up on the bulletin board or something?”

It went without saying that Wally didn't need this either. He didn't need it now or ever. He didn't need Caroline sticking the picture of him in his bunny pajamas on the end of a ruler and thrusting it over his shoulder at school. He didn't need her passing the pictures around the girls’ table at lunch. He didn't need to walk by groups of giggling girls out on the playground and see them all point to him. No sir, he didn't need that at all.

“Do you think they'll give the album to him?” Josh asked as the minutes ticked by and Peter disappeared from view at the top of the hill.

“If they give the pictures to anyone, it will be Peter,” said Jake. “They like Peter. They think he's just the sweetest thing that ever lived. Ha! They should check out his closet sometime. They should smell his breath after he's eaten cheese! But hey! If Peter gets the pictures back, he can smell like dog doo for all I care.”

Mr. Hatford's car turned into the driveway, and the boys could hear his footsteps as he came into the house.

They heard the voices of their parents in the kitchen below, and the sound of the TV as Mr. Hatford turned on the evening news. There came the smell of frying pork chops, and the clatter of plates on the table.

Wally and his brothers stood at the upstairs window, noses pressed against the glass.

“Come… on!” Josh breathed.

“Where
is
he?” said Jake.

“Well, you can't expect him just to say, ‘Give me the pictures,’ and think they'll hand them right over,” said Wally. “He's got to be sweet first.”

“Man, I don't know how he does it. He's so sweet that the girls always feed him cookies when he goes over there,” said Jake.

“They
bake
them especially for him,” said Josh.

“Which makes him even sweeter,” said Wally.

Five more minutes went by. Then ten.

“Boys!” came their mother's voice from below.

“Wash up. Supper's on the table.”

“Oh, man!” Wally whispered.

“Coming!” called Josh.

They went into the bathroom and washed their hands, doing everything in slow motion, hoping to stall for time.

Down the stairs they went, stopping at the front door to peer out again at the swinging bridge, looking for a lone figure coming down the hill from the Malloys’ with a photo album under his arm.

Nothing.

They went into the kitchen, where mashed potatoes and green beans and pork chops sat on various platters, and a dish of applesauce stood in the center of the table.

Mrs. Hatford glanced around at her brood, then went to the kitchen doorway and called, “Peter?”

“Uh…he'll be back any minute, Mom,” said Wally. “He's doing an errand.”

“At suppertime?” his mother asked.

“He'll be along,” Josh echoed.

The rolls in the oven were just beginning to brown around the edges, and Mrs. Hatford grabbed the pot holders to take them out. For the next few minutes she was busy with that. The boys helped themselves to the food at hand and amiably discussed the rolls and how good they were spread with their mother's cherry jam.

But right in the middle of supper, Mrs. Hatford said, “Where
is
Peter? Where did he go?”

“He should have been back by now,” said Wally.

“Do you or do you not know where he went?” asked Mr. Hatford.

“He went to the Malloys’ to get some pictures back,” said Josh.

“Aha! So he's doing the dirty work for you,” said Mrs. Hatford. “How long ago did he leave?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe,” said Jake.

“Say thirty,” said Josh.

“Well, for heaven's sake, he should have been back by now,” said Mrs. Hatford, looking concerned.

And at that very moment the phone rang.

W
ho do you suppose will come over to get it?” Beth asked mischievously.

“I don't know, but I'm going to let you two handle it,” said Eddie. “Jake and I are getting along okay right now, and I don't want any trouble between us before the game on Saturday. He was awfully nice to practice with me last week, so if there's any negotiating to do, you guys will have to do it.”

“Man oh man, do we ever hold all the cards!” said Beth. “We've never been in such a good bargaining position before, Caroline. What should we ask for in return? All their earthly possessions?”

“We'd better think about this a long time,” said Caroline. “We don't want to blow it. Maybe we shouldn't decide until the championship game is over. We could tell the guys we'll give it back in June, and we'll make our conditions then.”

“Good idea,” said Eddie. “We're not saying we won't give it back. We're just saying we won't give it back right now.”

“Let's take another look at it,” said Beth. “I want to imprint these on my brain forever.” She giggled.

The girls sat down on the bed again, and this time they savored every picture. They hooted and howled when they came to the photo of Wally Hatford in bunny pajamas two sizes too small, and Caroline even rolled off the bed in laughter.

There was a knock at the door downstairs, and Caroline continued rolling till she was on her feet again and was the first one to reach the door. There stood Peter, smiling his sweetest smile.

“Well, hello, Peter.” Caroline grinned at him, then turned around and grinned at her sisters on the stairs. “Want to come in?” she asked him.

“Okay,” said Peter, and stepped into the hallway.

“Who is it?” called Coach Malloy from the kitchen, where he was helping cut up vegetables for dinner.

“Just Peter Hatford, over for a little visit,” Beth called back.

Peter came in and sat in a chair in a corner of the living room.

“How are you?” asked Eddie.

“Fine,” said Peter.

“How is everybody at your house?” asked Beth.

“Fine,” said Peter.

“How are things going at school?” asked Caroline.

“Fine,” said Peter.

The girls exchanged knowing looks. “Well, did you come over to see us about something?” asked Beth finally.

Peter nodded.

“About what?” asked Caroline.

“Jake and Josh and Wally really, really, really want those pictures back,” said Peter.

“What pictures?” asked Caroline innocently.

“You know. The ones of us acting silly with the Bensons,” said Peter.

“Oh.
Those
pictures!” said Eddie. “Well, I don't think we've finished looking at them yet, Peter. Some of them are so silly we just want to look at them a long, long time.”

Peter grinned. “Did you see the one of me in a diaper?”

“Yeah, that was silly, all right,” said Beth. “But the one of Josh in his Batman underpants was my favorite.”

“That's the one Josh really, really, really wants back the most,” said Peter.

“Well,” said Beth. “We're going to have to think about this, Peter. Of course we'll give them back eventually. They don't belong to us, after all. We just have to figure out what we want to do with them first.”

Peter gave a long sigh. He leaned over and rested his
elbow on the lamp table beside the chair, then put his chin in his hand. “Well, I guess I can't go home, then,” he said.

“Why not?” asked Eddie.

“Because Josh told me not to come home without the pictures.”

The girls tried not to laugh. “Imagine that!” said Eddie.

“I guess you'll just have to live here for a while, then, won't you?” said Caroline. “Of course you'll stay for dinner?”

“What are you having to eat?” asked Peter.

“Chop suey, I think. But I know for sure Mom made a fudge pie.”

“Yeah!” said Peter brightly, straightening up again. “I'll stay!”

“Are you girls ready for dinner?” Mrs. Malloy called.

“Yes, and Peter's staying for dinner too, Mom,” called Beth.

“Oh? Really? Well, I'll put on another plate, then,” said her mother.

When the family gathered in the dining room, Peter took a chair. He didn't seem too sure about the chop suey, taking only a little bit of rice and a small helping of vegetables but his eyes drifted regularly to the kitchen and the chocolate fudge pie sitting on the counter in plain view.

“So what's happening at your house these days, Peter?” asked Coach Malloy. “Everybody doing okay?”

“The answer to whatever you want to know, Dad, is ‘fine,’ ” said Eddie. “I thought I'd save you the trouble of asking.”

“I see,” said her father. “Well, I imagine your whole family will be going to the game in Clarksburg on Saturday, Peter. Right?”

“Yes, we're all going,” said Peter. He frowned. “I may have to ride with you, though.”

“Oh? I'm not sure we have room. Our car only holds five,” said Mrs. Malloy.

“Uh…Mom…Peter may be staying over tonight. He can use one of our sleeping bags, can't he?” said Caroline.

“What's this?” asked Coach Malloy. “You're not running away from home, are you, Peter?”

“Just for a little while,” Peter told him.

“Doesn't your mother know you're here?” asked Mrs. Malloy.

“Just my brothers,” Peter answered.

“Peter Hatford, you go to the phone right now and tell your mother where you are,” said Mrs. Malloy. “Tell her it's fine with me if you stay for dinner, but she's got to know where you are. She must be worried.”

“O-kay,” said Peter reluctantly. He slid off his chair.

“But Jake and Josh and Wally aren't going to like it.”

Under his breath, Coach Malloy muttered, “Jake and Josh and Wally can go jump in the lake, as far as I'm concerned. We can't have kids appearing and disappearing whenever they get the notion.”

“Excuse me,” said Caroline. “I just want to make sure he really talks to his mom and not just his brothers.”

“Good idea,” said Mrs. Malloy.

Caroline went out into the hallway and stood beside Peter as he called home.

“Hi, Wally,” said Peter. “Can I talk to Mom?”

Caroline bent down so she could listen.

“Peter, where
are
you?” came Wally's voice. “What's taking so long?”

“I'm eating dinner,” said Peter.

There was an anguished wail at the other end of the line.
“Dinner?”

“I have to talk to Mom!” Peter insisted. “Mrs. Malloy
said
!”

And the next thing Caroline knew, Mrs. Hatford's voice came on the line. “Peter? Is that you? Where
are
you?”

“I'm having dinner at the Malloys’ and I'm going to sleep in a sleeping bag,” said Peter.

“You most certainly are not!” cried his mother. “Peter, have you lost your mind? You can't just wander over to somebody's house and stay for dinner and sleep in a sleeping bag!”

“I have to,” said Peter. “I can't come home.”

“
Why
can't you come home?” Mrs. Hatford demanded.

“Because Jake and Josh and Wally said I couldn't come home without the pictures, and Eddie and Beth
and Caroline want to look at them some more, so I'm going to live over here for a while.”

“Peter Hatford, you pick up your feet and get yourself home this very minute!” Mrs. Hatford was practically screaming. “This house is a zoo, I tell you! A living, breathing zoo!”

“Okay,” said Peter.

“Peter!” his mother continued. “You go back to the table and thank Mrs. Malloy for whatever you ate so far. Then you wipe your mouth on your napkin and carry your dishes to the sink, and you go out the door and come home. Do you understand me?”

“Okay,” said Peter. He hung up the phone and walked back into the dining room, Caroline at his heels.

“Thanks for what I ate so far, but I have to go home. Mom said,” Peter told them.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Mrs. Malloy. “Can't you even finish your dinner?”

“Mom said to pick up my feet and come home,” Peter told her. He wiped his mouth on his napkin, picked up his plate, and carried it to the kitchen.

“Now, what was
that
all about?” Coach Malloy asked.

“Don't ask, George, don't ask,” said Mrs. Malloy.

Caroline went into the kitchen with her own empty plate and got there just in time to see Peter hurriedly stuff something into his pocket. He grinned at her sheepishly and went back through the dining room.

“Goodbye,” he said.

“Well, it was nice to see you, Peter,” said Mrs. Malloy. “We'll invite you to dinner another time.”

“Yes, we'll see you at the game Saturday,” said the coach. “Tell your dad hello for me.”

Peter went out the front door and closed it as Beth took her plate to the kitchen.

“Hey!” she yelled.

“Now what?” asked Mrs. Malloy.

Beth came back into the dining room carrying the chocolate fudge pie. There was a large hole in the middle of it, as though someone, with an insistent thumb, had carved out a bite for himself.