My Sister's Grave (Tracy Crosswhite, #1)(19)

“What’s the matter?” Sarah asked, exiting the store with Sunnie.

“Dan’s got a flat tire.”

“I can’t go,” he said.

“Let’s ask Mr. Kaufman to use the phone to call your mom,” Tracy said. “Maybe she’ll come down and buy you a new tube.”

“I can’t,” Dan said. “My dad’s been on my ass about being irresponsible. He says money doesn’t grow on trees.”

“So you’re not going?” Sunnie said. “We had it all planned out.”

Dan lowered his head to his forearms crossed over his knees. He didn’t bother to fix his glasses when they slipped down the bridge of his nose. “You guys just go without me.”

“Okay,” Sunnie said, getting her bike.

Tracy glared at her. “We’re not going without him, Sunnie.”

“We’re not going? It’s not our fault he’s got a lousy bike.”

“Quit it, Sunnie,” Sarah said.

“You quit it. Who invited you anyway?”

“Who invited you?” Sarah spat back. “I found the tree, not you.”

“Stop it, both of you,” Tracy said. “If Dan can’t go, then none of us is going.” Tracy grabbed Dan’s arm. “Come on, Dan, get up. We’ll push your bike to my house. We can tie the rope on one of the branches of the weeping willow and make a swing there.”

“Are you kidding? What are we, six years old?” Sunnie said. “We were going to jump in the lake. What are we going to do, jump in the lawn?”

“Let’s go.” Tracy looked about but did not see her sister. She sighed. “Where’s Sarah?”

“Great,” Sunnie said. “Now she’s disappeared again. This day is getting worse by the minute.”

Sarah’s bike remained against the building, but she was nowhere to be seen. “Wait here.” Tracy went back into the store and found Sarah at the counter talking to Mr. Kaufman. “Sarah, what are you doing?”

Sarah reached into her pocket and pulled out a wad of dollar bills and quarters, dropping it on the counter. “Buying Dan a new tire,” Sarah said. She swung her head to get strands of hair out of her face. It drove their mother crazy, but Sarah refused to wear a clip or pull her hair back in a rubber band.

“Is that your movie money you’ve been saving?”

Sarah shrugged. “Dan needs it more than me.”

“Here you go, Sarah.” Mr. Kaufman handed Sarah the box with the new tire tube. “This should be the right size.”

“Do I have enough, Mr. Kaufman?”

Mr. Kaufman scooped the money from the counter without counting it. “I think it’s plenty. You sure you can fix it? It’s a pretty big job.” He looked at Tracy and winked.

“I’ve seen my Dad do it. It’s only the front tire so I don’t have to take the chain off.”

“Maybe your big sister can help you,” he said.

“No, I can do it.”

He reached beneath the counter and handed Sarah a wrench and a flat-head screwdriver. “Well, you’ll need these. You let me know if you need any help.”

“I will. Thanks, Mr. Kaufman.” Sarah took the box and the tools and ran out of the store shouting, “Dan, I got a new tire, so now you can go!”

Tracy watched out the window. Dan looked confused, then surprised, and finally popped to his feet grinning.

“You let me know if you need any help, okay, Tracy?” said Mr. Kaufman.

“I will,” Tracy said.

He handed her a bike pump. “Just bring it back with the tools when you’re done.” He looked out the window. Sarah and Dan had dropped to their knees, and Sarah was fitting the wrench onto the front nut. “She’s a pistol, that sister of yours.”

“Yeah, she’s something. Thanks, Mr. Kaufman.” Tracy started from the store but turned back when Mr. Kaufman called her name. He held out one of the extra-big Hershey’s bars, the kind her mother bought to make s’mores when they went camping. “Oh no, Mr. Kaufman. I don’t have any more money.”

“It’s a gift.”

“I can’t take that,” she said, remembering her father saying that Mr. Kaufman was having trouble making ends meet. She already suspected that the tire cost more than Sarah had put on the counter.

Mr. Kaufman looked as if he was about to cry. “Do you know she rides her bike all the way to the hospital to visit Peter?”

“She does?” The hospital was one town over in Silver Spurs. Sarah would have been in big trouble if their parents found out.

“She brings him coloring books,” he said, eyes moist. “She said she’d been saving her popcorn money.”





[page]CHAPTER 16





Tracy shook the rain from her jacket as she entered the front door of Thorenson’s Funeral Home. Old Man Thorenson, which is what they’d called Arthur Thorenson when they were kids, had once embalmed everyone who died in Cedar Grove, including both her mother and her father. But when Tracy had called earlier in the week, she’d spoken to Darren, his son. Darren had been a few years ahead of her at Cedar Grove High and had apparently gone into the family business.