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“Sounds all right,” I said.

Mom smiled; sometimes she could tell when I was shitting her. “I know this is a major step for us, but don’t get your hopes up. It’s just a test run, one night only. There are still two months until you turn thirteen and you should plan on having a sitter at least till then, and
maybe longer if you can’t handle being on your own. It’s all up to you.”

“No worries, mom, I’m all over it.”

“I hope so, honey.” She kissed me on the cheek and stood up. “I need to be able to trust you. I need you to show me you’ve put that other stuff behind you for good.”

That was a low blow, but I should’ve seen it coming, because moms were all the same. The tiniest suspicion that their kids might get hurt and they never stopped wetting themselves over it.

“Mom, don’t worry,” I assured her.

“I’ll
never
stop worrying about you, remember that,” she said, pouring on the guilt. She moved toward the doorway but stopped and said, “Oh, there’s one other thing.”

“I know,” I cut in, “I’ll straighten up in here as soon as I get back.” I had to throw her a bone for the good turn.

“No, not that,” she said, “although this room could always stand a little less disaster. Something else.”

“What?” It was like Guess My Secret with her this morning.

She narrowed her eyes, pulled her shoulders back, and lowered her chin, making her face all serious. “I know about the sign at the retirement home.”

I hadn’t been expecting that, and didn’t especially care for her tone.

“Sucks, doesn’t it?” I shrugged.

“I suppose it does.” She stood there quietly, arms folded across her chest, staring at me, for like three days.

“What?” I asked.

“You were asking questions about it yesterday.”

What the fuck?! That
was it; it was out of my hands. Neecey had to get whacked.

“Are you listening to me?” she asked.

“You’re gonna be late for work,” I reminded her.

“Let me worry about that—”

“All right, but I’m just saying—”

“Drop it.”

“Hey, if you want to be late—”

“Don’t try to change the subject, Eugene.” Shit, now I’d done it. “I said drop it. I know what you’re up to, and I’m telling you right now that you’re only asking for trouble. Haven’t we had more than enough trouble around here? Can’t we make it through one summer without you getting into some kind of mess?”

Those were rhetorical questions, so I didn’t need to answer them.

“You forget, she’s
my
mother. I know what she’s like. Look at me when I’m speaking to you. She had me thinking I was Nancy Drew until I was sixteen years old.”

“For real?” That was news to me.

“Yes. And you know what happened? I broke into my high school one night and went through all the lockers to find out who stole Kelly McGovern’s English paper.”

“No way.” My mom, breaking and entering. This was getting good.

“Yes way. But I was caught and I got myself into a world of trouble.”

“Were you suspended?”

“For a week.”

The plot thickened. “You never told me that before.”

“Because it’s nothing to be proud of and I’m only telling you now because this sign business has your grandmother written all over it.”

I wasn’t gonna touch that. “But you found out who stole Kelly what’s-her-head’s paper, right?”

“No, Genie, and that’s the thing. Nobody stole it. Kelly McGovern lied about her paper being stolen because she’d never written it in the first place, and she was suspended, too.”

Wow, what a crappy story. But what else could you expect from Nancy Drew?

“Do you see my point?”

“Not really,” I said, because I didn’t. “Are you saying that somebody’s lying about the sign being painted? Because it sure as hell looked painted to me.”

“Don’t get cute with me, young man,” she huffed. “That’s not the point. The point is, this isn’t the first time your grandmother has pulled something like this, because she used to do it with me. It never really worked with Neecey because she’s always had lots of friends, even before she became a knockout.”

Yeah, sure, Benedict Arnold with boobs.

“You’re more like I was,” she continued. “I was very susceptible to your grandmother’s schemes because I was an only child—”

“And I’m susceptible, too, because I’m a lonely one, right?”

“Oh, Genie.” The tightness in her mouth dropped and her eyes widened. It looked like she was gonna step forward and smother me with sympathy like she was supposed to, but she wasn’t finished lecturing, so she couldn’t. “It won’t be that way forever, honey, I promise.”

Whatever. I wasn’t holding my breath.

“Where was I?”

“The fruitcake falling close to the tree.”

“You know your grandmother, everything’s always secrecy and intrigue with her, and it’s all very tempting when you’ve got no one else to play with. Believe me, I know. But you’re not like I was, Genie, you’re much more impressionable and far more destructive.” She let that one suck the air out of the room for a second, and then continued. “Can’t you see how dangerous this could be for you? I mean, have you stopped to think what’s gonna happen if you find out who did it?”

I knew the answer to that one, but it was top secret.

“Do you think I’m fool enough to believe you’ll control yourself, knowing how much you adore your grandmother?”

Through the waxy green leaves outside my bedroom window, I saw that the sky was gray again. Looked like rain was on the way.

Mom took a deep breath and shook her head, but her voice was softer when she spoke. “Look, Genie. You’re starting a new school in September, junior high. You’ll have a clean slate, a chance to start fresh, make new friends, and move on to something better for yourself. Do you really want to throw that away by getting a reputation as a snitch before the first day?”

“I don’t give a sh—” I stopped myself just in time—the eyebrow of doom was rising on her forehead like a cobra set to strike. “It doesn’t matter what they think, they won’t like me anyway.”

“Spare me, okay? You seem dead set on giving other kids all the ammunition they need to single you out, and you’ve got to stop doing that.”

She was talking nonsense and it was time to call her on it. “So what? I’m not supposed to do the right thing because a bunch of pimply geeks won’t like me for it? Jesus Christ, mom. Am I supposed to be a coward so I can be one
of them?”

“No, Genie, that’s not it. You should always do the right thing, when it’s
yours
to do. As soon as you know the difference, then you can call yourself a man. Believe me, you’ve got a hell of a long way to go yet, buster.”

I had to admit it, I liked it when mom talked tough.

“And that’s where I come in. This sign business isn’t for you. Do you know why? Because nothing good can come of it. If you don’t find out who did it, you’ll be disappointed, and we both know how you handle disappointment.”

Like a grenade without the pin.

“But I’m not so concerned about that, because I know how smart you are, and if you’re determined to get to the bottom of it, you probably will.”

She finally said something I agreed with.

“But what then? If you go to the police, you’ll only make problems for yourself with the other kids at school, problems that you don’t need and haven’t even thought about because you’ve already written
them off. And that would be bad enough. But I’m not most concerned about that, because I know you, Genie. And
that’s
what worries me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Excuse me. I’m talking, which means you are …”

“Listening.”

“Thank you. Because I know you, both of you”—she looked at Thrash, and he flashed this innocent, who-me look—“there’s only one option. You two are just out for payback. So you’re gonna track down whoever did it and pick a fight. Now, you already know that you’re not supposed to fight anymore, but the thing that scares me to death is that this time you might meet up with someone, maybe even a group of kids, just like you, angry and out of control, only bigger, older, stronger, and who won’t think twice about putting you in the hospital when you charge at them, which you will, because when you get upset you just fly off the handle without ever stopping to think. Does any of this sound familiar?”

I pled the Fifth.

“Do you understand what I’m saying? Or do you actually like coming home with bloody noses and black eyes all the time? Because if that’s what you really want, to hurt yourself, there are easier ways of going about it. But you already know that, don’t you, because
you
know everything.” Her upper lip was twitching; she was worked up now. “Well, you don’t know everything, you only think you do, and that makes you your own worst enemy. Neecey and I can’t be there to protect you from yourself all the time anymore. You’re getting too old for that. I’m sorry, Genie, I really am, but that’s the way it is. So you have to start helping us out. God knows I’ve begged your grandmother, begged her, not to encourage you to play detective, but your grandmother, she doesn’t… she can’t—” mom’s voice cracked and she stopped. She raised the tips of her index fingers under her eyelashes and held them there. “Shit, if this mascara runs, then I’m really gonna be late.”

“Mom, sewer mouth.” Someone had to lighten the mood, because it’d gotten too damn heavy all of a sudden.

“Oh,” she sniffled, faking a laugh, “you’re right. Sorry.” She looked at her watch. “Crap. I have to run.” She cleared her throat, looked me in the eye, and said, “Promise me you’ll drop it.”

Now, that was a pickle.

“Stop frowning, Genie, it makes you look simple. Well, are you gonna promise or do I have to get on the phone with Pauline?”

And that was just good, old-fashioned hardball. The whole thing had been a setup from the start, and I’d bought every bit of it. It made me wonder how much of what she’d told me was true, because I already knew that people would say just about anything to get what they wanted, especially moms. But I had to give her credit—true or not, she’d suckered me good.

“All right.” She turned to leave. “If that’s your decision, I’ll get on the phone right now. I can always tell them I was late because I had trouble finding a sitter.”

“Wait,” I said.

“Yes?” She raised her eyebrows and looked surprised, like she didn’t know what I was gonna say. I hated that crap.

“All right. You win.”

“What did I win?”

Christ, now she was making me work for it. “You know.”

“No, I don’t. Unless you say, ‘I promise to drop the case,’ I don’t know what we’re talking about.”

I pronounced the words.

“That’s great, Genie, I’m relieved to hear it. But now that you’ve promised, I’m gonna hold you to it.” Mom straightened her shoulders and smoothed her hair. “Look, I know she probably gave you some money. Shh, I know, I know, she told you to keep it a secret. She always did that with me, too. It made it more fun. Don’t worry. I’m not going to ask you any more about it. Keep the money. I’m sure it’s not a lot. Think of it as a reward for a lesson well-learned.”

“And then what?” I only asked because if she wanted to wreck my plan for the day, then she should at least have the courtesy to offer me a new one.

“I don’t know. You’re the one on vacation. Go to the mall, see a movie, take your bike down the Shore.”

Just what I thought—nothing. “It looks like it’s gonna be crappy,” I said.

“Genie, you have a brain most people would kill for. I’m sure you can figure out something that doesn’t involve trouble or getting hurt. Try using your head.”

I nodded.

“Remember, you’re gonna be in the house on your own tonight, so no going out after dark and no funny business, okay? I mean it. There’s money for pizza on the counter. I’ll call you later.” She kissed me and smiled. “I’m trusting you to do the right thing.”

“I know.”

“That’s my little man. I love you.”

I wasn’t in
the habit of making promises to my mother that I had no intention of keeping, and that put me in a bad situation. But she’d left me no choice: I’d already given my word to grandma, who was higher up the chain of command than mom and had fronted the dough to make sure I delivered the goods. I knew all kinds of vandalism and suspicious bullshit were going on at the retirement home and that nobody was sticking up for grandma or any of the other old-timers, so that’s what I had to do. Besides, Marlowe, Spade, and Holmes always had to work around the authorities and run the risk of getting into trouble themselves in order to get to the bottom of things—it was just part of the job. But I had to be careful. If mom found out what I was up to, I wouldn’t have to contemplate the trouble my future might bring, because I wouldn’t have one. Period. But she’d said the whole business scared her to death anyway, and
since I didn’t want to worry her, it was better to keep her in the dark, at least for her own protection. As for her lecture on the right thing to do, I already knew what it was. I had to break this fucking case wide open.

I got out of bed, did my exercises, and tried to figure out the exact moment that Neecey had switched teams, which she must’ve done, because she’d
never
sunk this low before. In the past year, she and mom had been ganging up on me more and more about all kinds of things—making an effort with other kids, avoiding fights, staying out of trouble—but Neecey ratting me out about the sign was by far the most extreme of her connivance. Sure, she’d always entertained herself at my expense, like putting dresses and makeup on me when I was little or telling me that eating dirt would make me grow or making me hand her towels or Manning the Lookout or that time she convinced me to lick one of the metal posts holding up the back porch in the wintertime. Being treated like her pet monkey drove me crazy sometimes, and a lot more lately, but it was just the usual sister-brother sort of crap, at least for us. Telling on me wasn’t. We’d never done that.
Never
. Even the time I’d punched out the front window, we’d both sworn it was broken when we’d gotten home from school and that I’d cut my hand making a sandwich. I didn’t think mom really believed us, but there wasn’t anything she could do, because we’d stuck together.