Hide and Seek (12 page)

All in all, the Fantastic Fifth Graders were … well, fantastic.

* * *

On the way home from school, Razi insisted on giving the Bakers’ dog a ticket since he was in uniform. Keisha was not in the mood for Razi’s shenanigans.

“You can’t give him a ticket just for being a dog, Officer Carter,” Keisha told her brother. (When he was in costume, Razi wouldn’t answer unless you called him by the name of the character he was playing.)

“It’s called being a public nuisance,” Razi said. “Mrs. Jenkins told us all about it.”

That made Keisha smile, wondering how the phrase “public nuisance” had come up. It didn’t matter so much now because Razi had had a sparkling day at the Celia Cruz Performing Arts School. After Grandma explained about all the dancing and singing and performing they did there, Keisha was pretty sure Razi would be bouncing up and down in his seat in a new school soon.

“They don’t even have a Peaceful Corner, Key,” Razi had told her when she went in to kiss him good night the evening before. “I asked.”

And now, Razi stood on the other side of the fence while Harvey barked his fool head off, and he didn’t seem frightened one bit.

As they came up to their house, Mr. Gorman met them on the sidewalk.

“Happy Halloween, young lady … Don’t tell me … you’re a hippie!”

Keisha was pretty much done with the explanations. Whatever anybody thought she was was all right with her. “Hey, Mr. Gorman. Are you coming for a visit?”

Mr. Gorman rubbed his chin and chuckled. He was holding something behind his back. “I think this belongs to you.” He held out a dented plastic pumpkin. Keisha’s fingers slid along the sides of the pumpkin. It was oily. She poked her hand inside and pulled out a fistful of matted deer fur.

“I can’t stay. I’m going to take Tracyanne junior around our neighborhood in the red wagon. She’s still recovering from that tonsillectomy.

“I was refilling the bird feeders this morning and I saw this big orange ball—thought it was the neighbor boys’ basketball at first.” Mr. Gorman took hold of the pumpkin’s handle and tugged on it. “But it looks like you really did rescue that little deer. And I thought you should know about it. Those news people, too. I called them as well. If it weren’t for your quick thinking, that poor little guy might have starved.”

* * *

Two hours later, after celebrating with spice cake, retying Keisha’s head scarf and finding Razi’s police badge—he’d pinned it on his stuffed bear—the Carters filled their front-door baskets with candy and sat down to vote on what they would reply when kids called out “Trick or treat!” Every year it was different, with some being better than others. Grandma favored weird sayings, like “Bob’s your uncle.” Razi always voted for the old standby “Smell my feet.” Keisha and Daddy preferred something rhyme-y and not as weird as Grandma’s. But they’d hardly begun the discussion when Racket interrupted by barking at the front door and then howling as if it were midnight under a full moon.

“That dog does not belong in a house with well-mannered people,” Mama said, marching from the kitchen into the hallway. Daddy and Keisha exchanged looks. Was this the end of Racket? Everyone waited for the howling to suddenly stop. Instead, Mama came back holding a moaning Racket.

“Good heavens, there is a
Live at Five
Action Team truck out in the driveway, and they’re unloading a very big camera.”

Grandma put her hands to her cheeks. “Jumpin’ Jimmy Choo,” she said. “I don’t have my face on.”

But Grandma’s face wasn’t on the news crew’s minds. Mama stayed in the kitchen with Racket while
Razi ran to open the door. He rushed out to the porch and said, “Attention, everyone.”

The camera operator swung his camera in Razi’s direction. “I am the chief of police of this city.”

Razi adjusted his hat. The camera operator stopped filming. “Sorry, kid. But we’ve already got the Halloween footage.”

Mindy Patel came up the porch steps. “We’re tracking a pumpkin,” she said, “and we have reason to believe it’s here.”

“I have a pumpkin,” Razi offered. “But you can only borrow it until tonight’s T or T.”

“You probably mean this pumpkin.” Daddy held out the pumpkin Mr. Gorman had brought over. Mindy Patel and the camera operator examined it closely.

“It smells funny,” she said, and passed it to the camera operator.

“Looks like deer fur to me,” he said.

Before she knew it, Keisha was hustled out into the last remaining light to film an updated news segment.

After she’d been interviewed, the camera operator said, “We still need a lead-in. If only we had some footage of that deer.”

“I am
not
going back there. I’m still picking burs out of my nylons.”

“Maybe just a close-up of the pumpkin,” the camera guy suggested.

“I could hold it,” Razi offered.

“Maybe if he tilted it so we could see the deer fur.”

“I know,” Razi said. “I could do this.” He raised his arms in the air and started snapping his fingers. “Attention, everyone! It’s time for … salsa!” And he swiggled his hips and waved his arms. It looked a lot like Razi’s signature drag-foot-with-the-disco-arms that he did while playing hip-hop-scotch, but Keisha could see that his day at the Celia Cruz Performing Arts School had taught her brother a few new moves.

“Hey …” The camera operator elbowed Mindy Patel.

“It has possibilities,” Mindy agreed. “Do we have any salsa music?”

“Kid, can you dance with this pumpkin?”

“You bet I can. I can dance with three pumpkins!” Razi turned around and almost smacked the screen door, searching for more pumpkins to impress the camera guy.

“No, no! Just this one. Think of it like your dance partner.”

“Who’s leading?” Razi asked, holding out the pumpkin. “Me or him?”

“The pumpkin.” Mindy Patel took charge. As Razi
step-tapped and twirled in the background, she said: “There’s joy at Carters’ Urban Rescue today, as an enterprising young lady has freed the little deer—who captured the sympathies of viewers as far away as Taiwan—from the plastic pumpkin whose handle was stuck on his horn buds. The exclusive story, next”—she paused and waved her microphone at Razi—“on
Live at Five.”

Later, bundled in their jackets, the older kids had the last s’more roast of the season before going in to count their candy. Daddy had turned on the spotlights, and with the full moon and the campfire, the yard was bathed in light.

Mama and Daddy, Grandma Alice and Big Bob stood at the edge of the firelight, talking softly. Aaliyah walked over to Keisha. “I know you were in a costume, but for the future … don’t wear vertical stripes for camera interviews,” she said.

“You’re twirling your marshmallow way too fast, Aaliyah,” Keisha replied. “Mellow out.”

“Sorry. Candy buzz. Also remember to look into the camera, not at the reporter.… You seem more reliable that way. It wouldn’t hurt to have some sound bytes ready, too. You know, to soft-sell the business.…”

Keisha wasn’t listening too hard to Aaliyah. When would she have to give another TV interview? Instead, she was following Racket with her eyes, watching him play in the dusky brown grass. He seemed to have caught a scent. Mama had told them earlier that Dr. Wendy at the Humane Society would try to find a foster home for Racket—one without any kitty cats—until they knew for sure what coyote traits he possessed. The whole time Mama was talking, she was scratching Racket behind the ears. Even though Mama would never confess it, Keisha thought she liked Racket, too.

Did he
have
to go?

If Keisha had learned anything from this Halloween, it was “serendipity.” That was a Grandma word. It meant that things just fell together. Wasn’t there something serendipitiful about a coyote dog, a family of urban wildlife rehabilitators … and a Romany girl?

“I didn’t have one good reason to save these old things, but then again, I just couldn’t give them up,” Grandma’d said about her suitcase full of hippie clothes. “In fact, I think my eclectic style might be able to embrace some flower child right now.”

Keisha watched Racket stalking something at the far end of the yard. What was it? First, he crouched so low his tummy touched the ground. Then his little
behind wiggled and he was four feet up in the air.

“Racket is flying,” Razi declared from his place by the fire.

Mama had been watching him, too. “I think that rascal is hunting—oh dear, is that our missing bunny?”

Oh no!
Racket had his little muzzle clamped around a baby bunny.

Now everyone’s attention was on Racket.

“Is that our missing bunny, or is that a snacket for Racket?” Keisha heard Daddy say quietly to Mama. He handed the baby to her and started walking toward the pup. “Here, boy. Here, boy. That’s a good dog.”

Racket ignored Daddy’s calling and made his way over to Mama. He looked up at her, wagged his tail three times and deposited the startled bunny at her feet.

Keisha dropped her marshmallow—stick and all—into the fire and ran over to quickly pick up the little bunny and examine him. There wasn’t even one tooth mark.

“Well, on my street?” Daddy said, which was the Carter family response to the “Trick or treat” call this evening. He took the bunny from Keisha. “At least our Racket knows who the alpha dog in this family is.”

Mama
tsk-tsked
. “The way that dog can fly, we should call him Rocket,” she said. “Racket is no name for a pup.”

Keisha and Daddy exchanged a wide-eyed look. Mama never named anything.

Mama kneeled down and cupped Racket-Rocket’s muzzle in her hand. “You help Razi get over his fear of dogs, you help me know when someone is on the property, you help us find missing animals and you help exercise the humans. I think you will earn your keep. But no dog of mine is allowed to make a racket.”

“I like Rocket,” Razi said. And to prove it, he put his arms above his head and dashed around the yard. “Zoom! Zoom! To the moon,” he cried. Then he stopped. “Grandma, where is my Find-It Man cape?”

“I like Rocket, too,” Keisha added. Given a choice, she would have taken a lot longer to think of a name, since names were so important. But right now Keisha was more interested in fast-forwarding to the part where they all agreed on a name so she could breathe a sigh of relief.

“You’re serious, Fay?” Daddy looked at Mama, just to be sure.

Mama patted Keisha’s head scarf. “You know as well as I do that this child will not be happy until we have a puppy in the family.”

“Mom?” Daddy asked Grandma Alice. “Do we have a consensus on the name?”

“Could we consider something more stylish, like Rocky? Or Rocko?”

Daddy and Keisha both wore their pleading looks. They were each afraid Mama might change her mind if she took longer to think it over.

“Oh, all right. It’s a consensus.” Grandma hugged Big Bob. “Good things do hover around Bob,” she said. “Even howling ones.”

Keisha went over to her mama and gave her a hug, too. She buried her face in Mama’s dress to hide the grin that kept getting wider and wider. The little deer was free and the Carter family finally had a puppy to call their own. Plus she had massive amounts of candy in her pillowcase, even if she had ended up giving half-sies to Razi, who drove her crazy with his begging.

She couldn’t think of a happier ending to this day.