looking after you. I see his car’s here.”
“They didn’t take the car,” Tucker said. “I think they went to some hospital.”
“That’s what Adrian said.” Kosh stepped closer, bringing with him the smell of sweat, leather, and motorcycle. “They left last night?”
Tucker took half a step back. “They were gone when I got home. They left me a note.”
“Can I see it?”
Tucker ran back inside to get the note. When he returned, Kosh was standing on the path looking out over the pond, his hands tucked in the back pockets of his black jeans. Tucker took the opportunity to check out the bike, an aging, battle-scarred Harley. Nearly every exterior surface was dinged, dented, crumpled, or scratched. The studded black leather seat was worn nearly through — it had been crudely patched more than once. The chrome plating had peeled away from the exhaust pipes, revealing rusting steel beneath. Tucker circled the bike, marveling that it had made it all the way to Hopewell. The license plate read KOSH5, implying at least four other Koshes — or, more likely, that this Kosh owned several other bikes.
Kosh came back up the path. Tucker handed him the note. Kosh read it, then held it out between his thumb and forefinger as if it were a dead mouse.
“That’s it?”
“He left it on my pillow.”
“Huh. Not even a God-bless-you.” He released the letter and watched it fall to the ground.
“My dad doesn’t believe in God.”
Kosh raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”
“I don’t know. A year, I guess.”
Kosh laughed, shaking his head and slapping his dusty, greasy thigh to show Tucker how much he was enjoying the joke, whatever it was. Tucker felt himself getting angry.
“Do you know where they went?” Tucker asked.
Kosh stopped laughing but continued to shake his head. “They could be on the North Pole for all I know.”
Tucker felt himself getting angrier. “I don’t know why he’d want you to take care of me anyway. He doesn’t even like you.”
Kosh shrugged. “I never liked him much either, kid. But blood’s blood. All I know is Adrian called and told me I’d be babysitting you for a while.”
“I’m fourteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Not saying you do. But here we are. Big brother has spoken.” He gave Tucker a searching look. “So, Emily’s not doing so good?”
“She sees ghosts.” Tucker was instantly sorry he’d spoken, as if saying bad things about his mother would make it more true.
Kosh’s lips tightened. “I don’t know how she kept her marbles long as she did. Fifteen years with Adrian would drive anybody nuts.”
“She’s not
nuts,
” Tucker said, louder than he meant to. “She’s
sick.
The doctor said she has something like autism. He called it RAD. But Dad says the doctors don’t know what they’re talking about.”
Kosh nodded somberly. “Yeah, Adrian told me they could do nothing for her. He said he was going to try something else. Probably took her to some faith healer or witch doctor or something.” He gave Tucker another long look, then put his hands on his hips and turned toward the house. “Guess we better get busy shutting this place down.”
“What?”
“Turn off the water, shut off the electricity —”
“Wait — how come?”
“We can’t just leave it, kid.”
“Leave? Who’s leaving?”
“You and me, kid. You’re coming to live with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Tucker ran up the porch steps and into the house.
“If you think I’m staying here in Hopeless, you’re crazier than your old man,” Kosh said.
Tucker slammed the door and locked it, his heart hammering. He could hear Kosh just outside, muttering curses. Maybe he would give up and go away. But then what? He could go to live with the Krauses. Or maybe just stay at home and hope that his parents’ absence would go unnoticed. He could make up a story, tell everybody that they had gone to visit a sick relative, and wouldn’t be
“They didn’t take the car,” Tucker said. “I think they went to some hospital.”
“That’s what Adrian said.” Kosh stepped closer, bringing with him the smell of sweat, leather, and motorcycle. “They left last night?”
Tucker took half a step back. “They were gone when I got home. They left me a note.”
“Can I see it?”
Tucker ran back inside to get the note. When he returned, Kosh was standing on the path looking out over the pond, his hands tucked in the back pockets of his black jeans. Tucker took the opportunity to check out the bike, an aging, battle-scarred Harley. Nearly every exterior surface was dinged, dented, crumpled, or scratched. The studded black leather seat was worn nearly through — it had been crudely patched more than once. The chrome plating had peeled away from the exhaust pipes, revealing rusting steel beneath. Tucker circled the bike, marveling that it had made it all the way to Hopewell. The license plate read KOSH5, implying at least four other Koshes — or, more likely, that this Kosh owned several other bikes.
Kosh came back up the path. Tucker handed him the note. Kosh read it, then held it out between his thumb and forefinger as if it were a dead mouse.
“That’s it?”
“He left it on my pillow.”
“Huh. Not even a God-bless-you.” He released the letter and watched it fall to the ground.
“My dad doesn’t believe in God.”
Kosh raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”
“I don’t know. A year, I guess.”
Kosh laughed, shaking his head and slapping his dusty, greasy thigh to show Tucker how much he was enjoying the joke, whatever it was. Tucker felt himself getting angry.
“Do you know where they went?” Tucker asked.
Kosh stopped laughing but continued to shake his head. “They could be on the North Pole for all I know.”
Tucker felt himself getting angrier. “I don’t know why he’d want you to take care of me anyway. He doesn’t even like you.”
Kosh shrugged. “I never liked him much either, kid. But blood’s blood. All I know is Adrian called and told me I’d be babysitting you for a while.”
“I’m fourteen. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Not saying you do. But here we are. Big brother has spoken.” He gave Tucker a searching look. “So, Emily’s not doing so good?”
“She sees ghosts.” Tucker was instantly sorry he’d spoken, as if saying bad things about his mother would make it more true.
Kosh’s lips tightened. “I don’t know how she kept her marbles long as she did. Fifteen years with Adrian would drive anybody nuts.”
“She’s not
nuts,
” Tucker said, louder than he meant to. “She’s
sick.
The doctor said she has something like autism. He called it RAD. But Dad says the doctors don’t know what they’re talking about.”
Kosh nodded somberly. “Yeah, Adrian told me they could do nothing for her. He said he was going to try something else. Probably took her to some faith healer or witch doctor or something.” He gave Tucker another long look, then put his hands on his hips and turned toward the house. “Guess we better get busy shutting this place down.”
“What?”
“Turn off the water, shut off the electricity —”
“Wait — how come?”
“We can’t just leave it, kid.”
“Leave? Who’s leaving?”
“You and me, kid. You’re coming to live with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Tucker ran up the porch steps and into the house.
“If you think I’m staying here in Hopeless, you’re crazier than your old man,” Kosh said.
Tucker slammed the door and locked it, his heart hammering. He could hear Kosh just outside, muttering curses. Maybe he would give up and go away. But then what? He could go to live with the Krauses. Or maybe just stay at home and hope that his parents’ absence would go unnoticed. He could make up a story, tell everybody that they had gone to visit a sick relative, and wouldn’t be
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