The Gypsy Game Read online

  “But what are you going to do now?” Ken asked. “They’ll probably look for you here. I mean the police will, at least.” He paused. “You could come home with me,” he said. “My mom would probably—”

  “No,” Toby said quickly. “No. She’d tell. And besides, I wouldn’t want to put you guys in danger too. These so-called grandparents of mine have some hit men who are real scary types.”

  “Hit men?” Elizabeth looked puzzled.

  “Yeah, you know. Bump-off artists? Hired guns?”

  Elizabeth still didn’t get it.

  “Liquidators? Terminators? Murderers? Get it?”

  Elizabeth got it. “Murderers?” she breathed.

  “How do you know?” April asked. “I mean, how do you know your grandparents have hit men?”

  “Because I saw them. They brought them along when they came to our place. There were two of them. They were, you know, real bloodthirsty types.” Toby shuddered as if he was remembering something horrible. “So that’s why I can’t go home with any of you. And you can’t tell anyone about seeing me. Okay? Not even my dad. Especially not my dad.”

  Somehow, against her will, April found herself almost believing Toby’s ridiculous story. Or at least parts of it. The part you almost had to believe was that Toby was really worried or scared about something. Checking Melanie’s face, April thought she could tell that Melanie was believing that part, too.

  Suddenly Melanie looked at her watch and caught her breath. “We have to go,” she said. “My folks will be out looking for us. Hey, where’s Marshall?”

  They found him behind the mural, sound asleep on Bear’s bed. He was still only half awake when they walked him across the yard. They were all going out the gate when Ken suddenly turned back. “Will you be all right, Tobe? I mean it’s supposed to get pretty cold tonight.”

  “I’ll be great,” Toby said. “I’ve got all those old blankets—and Bear. Bear’s better than an electric blanket. There is one thing, though. If any of you could come back here later on and bring me something to eat, it sure would be great. Just—a piece of bread, or anything.” Toby grinned and shrugged, trying to make a joke of it, but you could tell by the way he swallowed that just thinking about eating a piece of bread was making him drool.

  They all said they’d help. Ken said he’d be back with food for sure, and April and Melanie said they thought they could gather up some stuff and sneak out long enough to bring it over. Elizabeth said she probably couldn’t come, but their refrigerator was full of leftovers from the big family banquet in San Francisco, and she could put a bag of stuff out in the hall for April and Melanie to pick up.

  “Hey, I can’t wait,” Toby said. Then he grinned and added, “I was getting pretty tired of dog kibble.”

  Melanie gave April a look that said she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. April knew what she meant. Not that she was about to cry over the mess old Alvillar had gotten himself into, but at the same time the thought of anybody being out alone on the streets at night, cold and hungry and frightened.… She shivered.

  On the way home April and Melanie made careful plans, and when they arrived at the door of the Rosses’ apartment, they went over their strategy once more. Exactly what they would say to the grown-ups, and when and how they would meet. Then, as Melanie unlocked the door, April gave Marshall, who was still practically sleepwalking, a small shake.

  “Remember?” she said. “Don’t tell anybody about Toby.”

  Marshall’s drooping eyelids lifted slightly. “I remember,” he mumbled. “If I tell, they’ll take him to the pound.”

  Melanie rolled her eyes at April, pushed Marshall through the door, and closed it behind him. “About what Toby said—you know, about why he ran away.… Do you believe him?”

  “Believe him?” April sniffed. “All that royalty stuff? Are you kidding?” She paused, frowning. “But there was a part of it—the part about him being really scared.”

  “Yes. That’s what I think. What I think is—”

  “Melanie.” It was Melanie’s mom’s voice. “Melanie, are you out there?”

  Melanie went in, waving a silent good-bye over her shoulder.

  At dinner that night while April was trying to concentrate on what parts of her dinner she might be able to save for Toby, Caroline kept asking questions about who had been in the office when she’d been called in and what they’d asked about. And she also asked quite a few questions about Toby’s father.

  “You know Toby and you’ve met Mr. Alvillar,” Caroline said. “What do you think? Some people I’ve talked to seem to think that he isn’t much of a father and that he might be to blame for Toby’s disappearance, in one way or another.”

  April shook her head and then caught herself just in time to keep from saying, “That’s not what Toby says.” Caught herself, and stuffed her mouth so full she wouldn’t be able to say anything until she’d had more time to think about a safe answer. After she’d chewed slowly and carefully for several seconds, she said, “Well, I have heard Toby complaining about his dad, but mostly just stuff like his cooking. I’ve heard Toby say his dad is really a lousy cook.”

  After Caroline agreed that his dad’s cooking probably wasn’t the reason Toby disappeared, April finally managed to change the subject.

  Fourteen

  AFTER DINNER THAT night Melanie managed to stuff some bread, a big hunk of cheese, and a couple of apples into a paper bag and hide it under her jacket on the bench of the hall tree. Then, following their plan, at exactly seven-thirty she got permission to go up to April’s for a few minutes, at the very same time April was getting permission to run down to her place. It worked perfectly. Just as Melanie stuck her head out the door, she began to hear quiet footsteps coming down from the third floor, and seconds later they arrived together in the lobby.

  “Hey, great,” she whispered. “I’ve got bread and cheese and apples. What do you have?”

  “Not too much,” April said. “Just two humongous doughnuts and a can of Pepsi. Oh yeah, and my carrot sticks from dinner. Come on. Let’s see what Elizabeth dug up.”

  In the downstairs hall they found a large bag under Elizabeth’s little sister’s tricycle, just where she’d said it would be. Good old Elizabeth. Then they were off and running.

  It was scary running down the alley. At first there was a little light from the streetlamps on Orchard Avenue, but after a few yards the light grew dimmer and the shadows longer and blacker. It was the first time April had been in the alley after dark since—but she wasn’t going to think about that. Within a very few minutes they were knocking softly on the gate of the Gypsy Camp. Almost immediately it opened a crack and a flashlight beam shone on their faces.

  “Quick!” Toby’s fiery Gypsy eyes gleamed in the dim light like the eyes of a wild animal. A starving wild animal. “Come on in,” he whispered hungrily as he grabbed the bags and led the way to the shed with Bear bouncing enthusiastically around all three of them. “Here, hold this,” Toby said, handing his flashlight to Melanie. Then he sat down, put everything on his lap, and began to open the bags one at a time, grinning and chuckling and making comments like, “Hey, a doughnut. Awesome! Wow, cheese. Fantastic. Chinese, my favorite,” and “Get out of there, Bear. That isn’t for you.” Grabbing one of the doughnuts, he took a big bite and then sprayed doughnut crumbs in every direction as he said, “Hey, sit down and dig in. Looks like there’s plenty here for everybody.”

  “Oh, we can’t,” Melanie said. “We have to get right back. Nobody knows we’re here.”

  April agreed. “If we’re not back in five minutes, we’re all in deep trouble. Come on, Melanie. Let’s get going. So long.”

  Toby waved briefly, muttered a few doughnut-muffled syllables, and went back to serious eating.

  At the gate April and Melanie stopped long enough to peer in both directions before they eased out cautiously and took off into a dim, shadow-haunted world. Running as fast as they dared in the murky light, they sped
down the driveway with fear nipping at their heels, turned out into the alley, and picked up speed until suddenly they slid to a stop. Clutching each other, they crouched in terror, straining their ears to hear, over their own thundering hearts and rasping breath, the sound of—footsteps. Yes, footsteps, faint at first but definitely coming in their direction. The sound of running feet getting louder and louder, and nearer and nearer until something careened around the corner, loomed shapelessly in the near darkness, and almost ran right over them. It was Ken, of course.

  When he rounded the corner, Ken was almost running blind, his line of vision partly obscured by the huge bag he was carrying. A plastic bag that looked big enough to carry rations for a Boy Scout wilderness weekend. “Sheesh!” he said, sliding to a stop. “Where’d you guys come from? I almost ran into you.” He looked them over. “You going or coming?”

  “Going,” April managed in a squeaky voice. “We’ve already been there.”

  Lowering his voice, Ken asked, “How’s Toby? Is he starving?”

  “Not anymore,” Melanie said. “Come on, April. We’ve got to go. Now!”

  They ran again then, around the corner, down the dark alley, out onto Orchard Avenue, up the steps, and safely back into the lobby of the Casa Rosada.

  “Whew,” Melanie said, taking off her jacket. “I hope we don’t have to do that anymore.”

  April knew what she meant. The alley after dark was scary enough no matter what you were doing, but somehow running made it even more terrifying. “After this, we’re going to have to figure out a way to feed Toby before dark.”

  As Melanie opened her front door, she said, “I know. Let’s have a Feeding Toby Conference tomorrow. Right after school, on the playground, before everybody splits for home. We can decide who’ll feed him and when and stuff like that. Okay?”

  “Okay, right after school,” April agreed, but a minute later as she was climbing up to the third floor, it occurred to her that getting Kamata to attend an otherwise all-girl playground conference was not going to be all that easy. Actually, not going to be possible, would be more like it.

  “Ken won’t come to the conference,” she told Melanie and Elizabeth the next morning on the way to school. “You know that, don’t you? Do you really think the great he-man, macho, all-star athlete is going to stand around on the playground whispering to three girls right out there in front of everybody? Come on, gimme a break! It’ll never happen. The three of us will just have to decide what to do and then send Kamata a note, or something.”

  On second thought, Melanie had to agree. “I guess you’re probably right,” she said. “He’ll never do it.” But only a minute or two later, when they happened to see Ken parking his bike in the school’s bike rack, she changed her mind. “We ought to tell him about it, though. That we’re going to have a Toby conference, I mean.”

  April bowed and gestured. “Okay. Go on, be my guest. You tell him.”

  “Okay, I will,” Melanie said stubbornly. As she ran off toward the bike rack, April told herself smugly that she, April Hall, had too much sense to risk being snubbed or insulted right out there in front of the school and everybody. Instead, she would just wait right here and watch Melanie make a fool of herself So she sat down on the bus bench, pulled Elizabeth down beside her, and waited. A minute or two later Melanie came back looking not so much insulted and angry as scared.

  “What is it?” April asked.

  Melanie’s high-flying eyebrows were tucked into a worried frown. “He said—he said he’d be there.” She shook her head unbelievingly. “At the conference. I mean, Ken must be worried to death.”

  “Yeah.” April felt something like a cold, clammy finger of doom trace its way up her backbone. “I know what you mean.”

  As soon as school was out that day, April and Melanie met Elizabeth outside the fourth-grade room and headed for a special spot just below the windows on the south side of the building. Being a little too close to the principal’s office for comfort, it had never been a popular hangout spot, which tended to make it a little more private. Right after classes let out, most of the schoolyard was crowded with kids who had signed up for after-school activities, but just as April and Melanie had hoped, their chosen area was still fairly deserted. But the bad news was there was no sign of Ken.

  Several minutes went by and still no Ken. Groups of fifth- and sixth-grade girls straggled out to join after-school tether ball, and a bunch of boys headed for the basketball courts. The girls were about to give up when suddenly Ken burst into view, running at top speed. Halfway across the yard he changed course slightly and swerved in their direction.

  “Look,” he said almost before he’d stopped running, “we’ve got to get Toby out of there, right away. We’ve got to think of someplace else for him to go.” Drowning out a chorus of “Why?” and “Where can he go?” he rushed on, “I was going past the office just now and Mr. Adams nabbed me again. And two guys were in there with him. And this time I’m sure they really were police detectives. I think somebody must have ratted about—you know where. We’ve got to get him out of there, as fast as we can.” Then, without even answering one question, he went on running, this time headed for the schoolyard exit and the bicycle rack.

  After a frozen moment April said, “Come on. Let’s go. Hurry!” And they did. Since it was Mr. Ross’s day to take care of Marshall, they didn’t have to stop at the day-care center, but even with almost nonstop running they didn’t beat Ken on his bicycle. When, breathless and exhausted, they turned into the Professor’s driveway, Ken was already there. But he wasn’t the only one.

  A dusty gray car was parked halfway down the Professor’s driveway, and two strange men in sinister-looking business suits were standing beside it. One of the men was holding the handlebars of Ken’s bicycle as if to keep him from escaping. Ken was talking, that much was obvious. But just how much he was saying, how much he was giving away, it was impossible to tell.

  April grabbed Elizabeth and Melanie and tried to pull them back out of sight, but it was too late. They’d been seen.

  “Girls!” one of the men shouted. “Come here! We need to talk to you.”

  April’s mind said “run,” but her body decided against it. She was too tired to run another step. Slowly and reluctantly, the three girls moved forward.

  “Policemen?” Melanie gasped breathlessly, and April nodded.

  “Probably,” she whispered back, trying not to listen to the crazy voice in the back of her mind that added, “or hit men.”

  Fifteen

  THE TWO MEN were both dressed in scruffy, colorless suits, but in other ways they were very different. One was short and bald with a bulldog scowl and a lopsided nose. The other was tall and bony with eyes and lips that kept twitching, as if he were about to start laughing. As if he thought scaring a bunch of kids to death was lots of fun.

  “Well, well,” the crooked-nosed one said. “You girls are a bit out of breath. What was the big hurry?”

  Out of breath. That was it. Pretending she was too breathless to talk, April clutched her throat and shook her head, and Melanie and Elizabeth did the same thing. It didn’t take much acting. Running all that way, then the shock of seeing poor old Ken in the clutches of two strange men.… April gasped and staggered, as if she were about to pass out.

  “Okay, take five,” the tall man said. “Catch your breath.” But then, long before five minutes had passed, he went on, “All right. Ready to talk now? We understand you kids know something about this fenced area. Just tell us how we get in here. Apparently there’s a locked dead bolt on the other side of the gate. Which would seem to mean there’s someone in there, wouldn’t it? So, who is it?” He looked at Melanie.

  Melanie shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  The men looked at Ken. “Nobody,” he said defiantly. “Nobody’s in there.”

  And then it was April’s turn, and with sudden inspiration she said, “Our dog. That’s where we keep our dog.”r />
  The other man, the one with the bald head and the bashed-in nose, gave a sneering laugh. “And I suppose this superintelligent dog closes the dead bolt behind you after you go out?”

  “Uh, not exactly. But sometimes he just jiggles the door”—she pawed the air, imitating a dog pawing on a door—“and I guess it sort of locks itself.”

  “Is that right?” The tall man was obviously amused again. The short one with the beat-up nose smirked.

  “Oh, is that so?” he said. “Here, Mac, give me a leg up. Think I’ll try a little bolt jiggling myself.” Stepping in his partner’s linked hands, he grabbed the top of the gate and pulled himself up until he could reach over and open the dead bolt. After he’d dropped back down, he grinned and rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain who just can’t wait to do something mean and nasty. “Okay,” he said with more hand rubbing. “Let’s just see this talented dog of yours.” He swaggered to the gate, pushed it open, stepped inside, and a split second later jumped back out, slamming the gate behind him.

  “There is a dog in there,” he admitted, smiling sheepishly. “A big one.”

  The tall man grinned as if something was really funny. Maybe as if he knew that Crooked Nose had some kind of a special problem where dogs were concerned. “Here, let me,” he said, and pushed the gate open.

  Of course Bear greeted him with his usual friendly enthusiasm, jumping around and wagging his stub of a tail. As he bounced happily around the two men, Melanie gave April a disgusted look that said something like, “Some watchdog.” April nodded. Bear would probably do the same thing if Frankenstein’s monster dropped in for a visit.

  But if Bear wasn’t very good at recognizing an enemy, he did seem to be able to tune in on how his friends were feeling. As soon as the four kids entered the yard, he seemed to sense that something was wrong. Pausing suddenly in midprance, he sniffed mournfully at each of them, tucked his tail, and crept off to disappear behind the Gypsy caravan mural.