Chapter Six

“I’m going to the library to load up on some new mysteries,” Clay announced the next night. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”

I’d been to the library with Clay before, so I knew he’d be gone at least an hour. It takes him forever — and then some — to choose a book. First he studies the cover as if he’s lost and it’s a map; then he reads the author biography on the back of the book jacket; and when that’s done, he reads the first page. Sometimes out loud, which is really embarrassing if you’re with him. Even after he chooses a book, he goes back to the shelf at least two more times — just to make sure he didn’t miss something or drop his library card.

I wasn’t in the mood to watch TV or play on the computer. Our house, which usually cooled off when the sun went down, still felt like a hothouse. Which is fine if you’re a tropical plant, but not so good if you’re a kid. I needed air.

So I decided to go for a walk. A little stroll.

The street was deserted, and except for the light from the street lamps, it was completely dark. My only company was the crickets, who were chirping like mad. I wondered if they were trying to tell each other something. Maybe they had a feeling it was going to be a big night.

I wandered down the block toward the Levesques’ house. The upstairs lights were on. I hadn’t seen Patsy since the day she’d borrowed our X-Acto knife, and I wondered how she was doing. If I were less shy, I could call her up and ask. If it were Bobby, he’d have called her. Just like he invited himself for dinner. Anyway, I told myself, I’m sure I’ll see Patsy around. There was something about her — and it wasn’t just her looks — that made me want to get to know her better.

I was thinking about walking over to the park to see whether anyone was playing basketball when I noticed one of the side windows on the Levesques’ house was wide open. All that was covering it was a mesh screen.

I walked over to get a better look. The whole time I was thinking about Patsy and the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled. Just as I’d thought, the window was open. Wide open. Someone could crawl right in — as long as he wasn’t too big. Someone like me.

I started to play with the screen. The windows looked old and the screen was rusted at the bottom, so I figured it might be jammed, but it wasn’t. It slid open noiselessly. Once it was open, it only took me a couple of seconds to slip inside.

I had to jump down to reach the floor. It was a good thing I was wearing my high-tops; it was also a good thing there was wall-to-wall carpeting or the Levesques might have heard me.

It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dark. I figured I was in the living room. Except for a couch and a glass coffee table, there wasn’t much furniture.

Upstairs, someone was watching TV. I

could hear the laugh track from a sitcom. I eyed the stairway at the far end of the hall. I wasn’t into checking out rooms or furniture. I was interested in people — in families — and they were upstairs. But could I get to the second floor without anyone noticing?

Just then I heard a key in the front door. I’d assumed everyone was home, but I was wrong. My eyes darted around the room as I looked for a hiding place. The couch was tight against the wall, and the glass coffee table wasn’t exactly an option. My best bet was a closet between the living room and dining room. I heard the doorknob turning. I dashed over to the closet, sneaked inside and shut the door behind me.

It’s a good thing I’m not claustrophobic. It was the smallest closet I’d ever seen. They used it to store cleaning stuff, like brooms and a bucket. The smell of ammonia tickled my nose. I hoped I wouldn’t sneeze.

The stairs to the second floor were just overhead, and I heard them creak as someone came down from upstairs.

“Is that you, Sylvain?” It was Patsy’s mother. “You said you’d be home by eight.” She didn’t sound happy. I checked my watch — it was 8:37. It wasn’t like Mr. Levesque was all that late. Why was she giving him a hard time?

She said something else, but she lowered her voice, and I couldn’t make out what it was. I pressed my ear to the door so I’d be able to hear better.

“You were there again, weren’t you?” she was saying.

Mr. Levesque didn’t say anything. I heard them head down the hall. The layout was similar to our house, so I figured they were probably going to the kitchen. A refrigerator door opened, and I heard ice cubes tinkling into a glass.

I was surprised when out of nowhere I heard a whimpering sound — the kind of noise a dog makes when it’s hurt. But I didn’t think the Levesques had a dog. If they did, wouldn’t I have seen them outside walking it by now? I strained to hear better. Now I heard a soft groaning sound. That was when I realized it had to be coming from a person.

It was Mrs. Levesque crying. What could she be so upset about?

“Don’t make a scene, Annette,” Mr. Levesque finally said. He paused for a couple of seconds before adding, “Patsy.” He said it like it was a warning. Whatever they were discussing was something they didn’t want Patsy to know about.

I heard Mrs. Levesque make a sniffling sound like she was blowing her nose.

“You have to stop. You’re ruining us,” she whispered.

Stop what? I wondered. What could Mr. Levesque be doing that would ruin his family?

“I won tonight,” he told her. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I’d be happy if you worked a regular job. I’d be happy if you stopped gambling. I’d be happy if we could stop running away from all the people you owe money to.”

So that was it. Mr. Levesque was a gambler. No wonder his wife was so upset.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll stop. I promise.”

Mrs. Levesque sighed. “How much did you win?”

“A thousand dollars.”

Wow, I thought, a thousand dollars was like two years’ worth of allowance. He won all that in just one night?

“That’s nothing compared to what we owe,” Mrs. Levesque said.

I heard the sound of more steps overhead. Patsy was coming downstairs. “Hey, Dad!” she called out, and I could hear her run over to him. “Come see the drawing I’ve been working on.”

After the three of them went upstairs, I let five minutes go by before I left the closet. Partly, I wanted to be sure they wouldn’t come back down. Partly, I needed to think. What I thought about was how there are some secrets you’d rather not know.