The Puzzle Master (5 page)

If they grounded him for a week, he wouldn’t be able to work on the puzzle. He wouldn’t be able to see Luke. What would Iris think? He’d told her he’d be back. He didn’t want to break a promise to her. She seemed … well, he wasn’t sure what she seemed. Fragile maybe, about ready to break like that favorite piece of china his mother had hanging on the dining room wall.

He reached down to his shorts and felt around for the inhaler. His lungs were itching for a breath of air.
Just a quick breather.

He took a breath, and felt better until he noticed that Mason’s snoring was getting louder.

The last week of summer was the pits.

***

The entire week was the worst he’d ever had it. He could barely go outside for a chance to look at the clouds, when his mom whisked him back in. The only reason Mom knew was because Leila would whine her eyes out that he’d snuck outside.

After three days of
being cooped up,
his mom finally let him out back so he could deadhead all the flowers. Every day he thought about the puzzle. He wondered if Iris had started it. He even worried she’d have it finished when he finally made it back to Luke’s.

He knew that was stupid—and impossible—but he hadn’t seen her in three days. He had four more to go before the first day of school. And he had every intention of heading back to the store as soon as the bell rang at three.

But what if she was a genius at doing puzzles and she didn’t even know it? The biggest puzzle he’d ever seen and she would have it done in a week. Wouldn’t that be
perfect.

Missy wandered over to him as he dug out weeds in the garden.

“Get out of here Miss,” but the cat ignored him and moved in and out of his arms and hands, just trying to get any petting she could. She circled-eight his hands, as he bent over to grab dandelions out of the vegetable patch, and meowed.

The neighbor lady, Mrs. Kelso, peeked over the fence. It wasn’t terribly tall. Leila could practically see over it, it was so short. And a good wind would knock the whole thing over like a row of matches. He was sure this winter would bring a new fence. And he hoped it was at least six feet tall this time.

“Oh, I’m sorry Marshall. Missy just loves company. Missy, come here girl,” the lady said, but the cat didn’t budge. Marshall
pet
the cat under her ears and chin, and the humming purr set in like a lawn mower.

“What are you doing out back pulling weeds? It’s hot out here,” said Mrs. Kelso, looking Marshall up and down and then looking at the slider door. She looked like she wanted to give his mother a word about working her son so hard.

“Yeah, well …” he paused. How much should he tell her? She was like the nosiest neighbor ever and knew everything about everyone. “Got grounded for staying too late at Luke’s.” He shrugged and went back to the weeds that were strangling the carrots.

“Oh, you mean the Luke’s Junk Store Luke?”

Marshall nodded. “You know him?”

“Sure do. That place sure is filled, isn’t it?” Marshall got the impression that Luke’s was not
her
favorite place.

“Yeah,” said Marshall, wishing he was there. “I was supposed to go back. There’s a puzzle he gave me, but I can’t start it now since I’m here.” He raked out some old acorns, and a patch of ants spread around him. He got up and watched them scatter around as if it was the end of the world.

“Funny you should mention that place; I was going to go there today. Need to drop off some things.”
So she was the type who got rid of their junk and gave it to Luke
, he thought. He wondered how many things he’d looked at in the past that was from her. It kind of made him feel weird. He decided right there he’d rather not know who the owners of all the stuff were.

Then an idea hit Marshall. “You think you could tell him I’ll be there next Monday?” he asked, heart pounding a little.

“Why of course I could.”

“Okay, thanks. I feel so awful about him not knowing I’m here.”

“Anything else you want me to say?”

He moved the rake from one hand to the other and adjusted his hat.
“No, just that.”
He couldn’t he tell her the sordid details. She was liable to tell his mom and dad even more stuff he didn’t want them to know and get him grounded for another week.
“No, but thanks.”

She smiled and went back to the house.
Figured as much.
She didn’t really care that the cat was in his way; she just wanted to talk to someone. He frowned. Mrs. Kelso had been nice, but maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

***

He didn’t see Mrs. Kelso for the rest of the week. He wondered if she’d relayed the message. But Monday morning came, and the bus was at their door at 8:10. Marshall was so glad for the first day, mostly because he could go to Luke’s after school. It was something he did a few days a week last year. He only hoped it stayed the same this year; and that his freedom to roam a few hours a week remained too.

“Hurry up Mason!” Marshall was at the door. The bus was idling, and after the second honk, ready to leave without them. Leila was waiting to go to, but she went on a different bus. Kindergarten through fifth grade went later. Sixth through twelfth grade went first.

She was singing, with her pink backpack around her shoulders, spinning around in her new skirt and brown leather shoes. “First day of
scho-ool
,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Mason waltzed into the front room. He smelled like cheap cologne, and his hair was gelled into a style Marshall had never seen before.

“What did you do?” Marshall moved his mouth into a frown as if he had just tasted a lemon.

“It’s the first day of school,” Mason replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m trying to look my best.”

“You smell awful.”

“I think he smells good,” Leila chimed in.

Mason winked at her just as their mother walked into the room. “
Okay,”
and she looked them over and hugged them. “I’ll see you after school, boys.”

Marshall nodded. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, and wanted to thank her for sticking up for him in the argument with dad, the one that he wasn’t supposed to hear. But he was too angry over
being grounded
.  He’d intended to thank her days ago, but could never form the words to tell her. So he mumbled a goodbye instead.

The bus was already full. The seniors sat in the back and the middle-graders in the middle and front. Mason was off to the back before Marshall had a chance to tell him goodbye. Stupid brother, he thought. Not good for a whole lot.

He saw the Williams twins, who looked like they’d grown a foot over the summer. Michael Marks was there too, his blond hair shining in the morning light. Marshall had promised something cool to show him, but the whole puzzle thing was something no one knew about. It was kind of a secret; something he loved that was unknown by all of his friends. No one except for Iris, and he’d just met her. So she didn’t count as a friend.

At least, he didn’t think so.

Getting excited over a new puzzle wasn’t going to win over his friends. He still needed something else.

He sat down in the only spot left and the bus started to move.
Becca
Anderson was next to him. She was nice, but sort of strange. She didn’t talk to a whole lot of people, other than her pal Larissa Longview. They were snobs really, but Marshall didn’t care. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone anyway.

He felt his inhaler in his pocket. It was right where it should be. He hoped he didn’t have to use it all day and keep the necessary breaths only for morning and night in the privacy of his own room.

The bus came to the school and the nervous talk dwindled down as everyone picked up their backpacks. They left it single-file, as if it was the entrance to a prison waiting just for them.

Marshall thought that middle school was odd. It was like being a kindergartener once again, only this time you couldn’t take naps and had to be responsible for your homework. Mason had taken off toward the high school with his pals—all with the
same gelled
hair, gooey like a cinnamon roll—as soon as they had gotten off the bus.

Marshall thought Mason had waved to him, but realized he had only run a hand through his hair to make sure it was in place. He wondered if Mason felt like he did. He wondered if feeling like a newbie was hard on him too.

Marshall pulled his schedule out of his pocket and found homeroom. He slid into a seat in the back and watched the room fill up with faces he’d never seen before. Middle school was so much larger than elementary. This school was the only one for miles around, so all middle and
high-
schoolers
went here. The school felt like it was a hundred times larger than before. Marshall slunk from hallway to hallway, not seeing a whole lot of familiar faces.

Marshall took a deep breath and relaxed when he saw Michael Marks, Justin Blandon and Greg Gutierrez walk in. It was the three amigos. Inseparable, unstoppable, and so far, the only friends he knew. He wasn’t one of them, as a part of the “in” crowd, but he wasn’t “out” either. Marshall was sort of a stand-by; friends with anyone and friends with anyone who wanted to be a friend to him.

Ever since Marshall had acquired a pocketknife from Luke’s last year, the three amigos were all semi-interested in knowing him—even if he was short and asthmatic. The ivory handle, and blade made of pure sterling silver, was a new attraction. He never brought it to school, but on the last day, he had
snuck
it in and they all
oohed
and
ahhed
over it in the boy’s bathroom.

He hid it as soon as the last bell rang, in one of the stalls toilet paper holder. If one of his “buddies” told a teacher he was carrying a knife, he didn’t want to have it on him.

Michael nodded at him as he turned toward him.
“Hey Marsh.”

The pack sat down. Marshall nodded back and the three of them already had their heads together planning some sort of new group. Last year, it had been the tall club; only tall boys could be a part of it. Fortunately, for them, that was all three of them. The year before that, it was the club
that only sons of father’s
who served the community could be a part of. Marshall had been out because his dad was a banker. Michael’s dad was a police officer, Greg’s dad was a firefighter, and Justin’s was in the army reserves. Not quite the same, but they made the exception.

The rules only served to serve them. It was stupid.

Marshall was already doodling in his notebook, trying to figure out what the club was going to be for this year, when a girl with dark black curls walked it.

Iris was here.

Chapter 4: The Fishing Pole

Iris walked in with her head down, focused on an empty seat a few away from Marshall. Marshall was so happy to see her. His heart pounded like a drum. He wondered if she’d seen him and leaned over to get a better look at her.

She opened her backpack and brought out a pencil and paper and stared straight ahead.

The rest of the class was talking to each other. There were a lot of new faces, so Iris was nothing to take notice
of
. They may have wondered why she was so pale, but other than that, they ignored her.

Marshall looked behind him and tried to wave her down. She still didn’t budge. There was an empty desk right in front of hers. He wasn’t sure if he should risk moving. The three amigos would notice.

He looked at Michael, who was already drawing up a plan on paper—presumably the new club—and figured this was as good as any chance. Marshall picked up his bag and plopped down in front of her.

“Hey,” he said turning around. Her face visibly brightened, and her short hair shook with surprise.

“Hey yourself,” she said. “Where’d you come from?”

“Was right over there.
Tried to get you to see me, but you …” he stopped talking.

“I’m a little nervous,” she offered. “This is only the second school I’ve been to in my whole life.”

“I didn’t think you were going to be here,” Marshall said, noticing how pretty her eyes looked.
“Thought maybe you would go to your old school.”

“Nah, can’t now with Aunt Norma sick and all.
She lives a ways from here too.”
She looked at him with a small smile, but it disappeared when a paper airplane flew toward them. The three amigos laughed, then the bell rang and the room became silent.

“Who are they?” she whispered in his ear.

“The tall one is Michael, he’s sort of the leader,” Marshall said in a return whisper. “Then the short dark haired one is Greg, and Justin is the short one. They think they’re hilarious.”

Marshall had hoped this wouldn’t happen. But sure enough, they’d noticed he moved—to sit next to a girl, no less.

Michael made a heart shape with his fingers, and batted his eyelashes. The other two giggled, just as Mr. Lester, their teacher, wrote his name on the board. Then class began.

Neither of them spoke to each other until the end of class. They both had English class next, so they walked to it, hoping the three amigos wouldn’t say anything else. It was just what Marshall didn’t need; rumors that he had a girlfriend on the first day of school.