Skeleton Tree Page 7

  As he stared harder, though, a tunnel started to form around his head, the way it always does if you focus on something long enough. The image began to wobble and go blurry. All of the sounds around him—the ticking clock, the buzz of his computer fan—meshed into static that tickled the inside of his ears. It was just him and the photograph. The skull, blanched extra white in the scant moonlight. The ribs, curving in like teeth. The vertebrae, poking out like miniature sea monsters stripped of their skin.

  Skull, ribs, vertebrae, shadow. The images whirred in his head, flipping over and over like one of those old-timey film reels. He might have sat there and stared at it forever, in some weird trance, except just then the impossible happened. Skeletus animatus moved.

  His skull twisted around, so slow Stanly could hear each vertebrae crack, and he winked.

  Stanly jumped back and fell out of his chair. He knocked his head on his official Skatepark Zombie Death Bash bite-proof helmet. A message pinged on his computer, but he was too dizzy to get up and check it.

  “Sweetie, what on earth happened?”

  Mom leaned over him, and he sat up so fast they nearly conked heads.

  “Nothing, it’s nothing, I’m fine!” He lunged for the computer, but he was moving so quickly all the blood rushed to his brain, and he ended up face-planting in the carpet.

  Mom helped him up and cradled his head, but then the computer pinged with another message and her brow creased. “You know you’re not supposed to be online this late, it’s already past your bedtime.” She squinted at the screen. “What kind of website are you looking at anyway?”

  Inside, a tiny part of Stanly died. His secret was out. Mom would make him take the picture off the site, and his chances of winning would be—“Hey, where did it go?”

  “What do you mean?” Mom said.

  The photograph was gone. In its place was a gray square cracked down the middle, the type of thing that came up when the image that was supposed to go there was corrupted.

  “It was there just a second ago. It—”

  Mom shook her head and switched off the computer. “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll get you some ice for your head. This is why I don’t want you staying up all hours playing games on that computer.”

  “It wasn’t a game,” Stanly said, and then he wished he hadn’t.

  “Whatever it was, I don’t want you on there again tonight. You go straight to sleep, you hear me?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay with whipped cream on top.”

  “That’s better.”

  A few minutes later, Stanly crawled into bed, an ice pack pricking the back of his head. He stared at his darkened computer screen. Had the picture really winked at him? Was the file actually corrupted? His fingers itched to turn on the computer and find out, but he could hear Mom puttering around in the kitchen. She was probably waiting up to make sure he went to sleep. He thought about putting a blanket under the door so she wouldn’t see the light from the computer screen, but in the end it didn’t matter. He fell into a deep sleep without even meaning to, a sleep full of skull and rib and shadow.

  The next day at school, Stanly collided with Jaxon outside his locker.

  “Did you see it?” they both said at the same time.

  For a second, Stanly thought that Jaxon had seen the picture move, too, but then Jaxon said, “It’s gone! The file’s corrupted.”

  “Maybe the website’s just having a glitch,” Stanly said, hopeful.

  “I don’t think so. It didn’t affect any of the other entries.”

  “Let’s pull it up on the school computers to make sure.”

  They hurried to the library with only five minutes before the bell rang. Skeletus animatus was still the number one entry, but the picture was gone. Stanly scanned through the latest comments.

  YETIFINDER33: Knew it was too good to be true!

  ARCHEO_NUT: Guess the admins finally figured out this was a hoax. About time!

  BONEGUY2007: Cheater!

  It went on and on like that. Sweat beaded on the back of Stanly’s neck. “But yesterday, everybody loved it. I don’t understand.”

  “They think the people running the contest took the photo down,” said Jaxon, patting Stanly’s shoulder. “We’ll just have to take a better one and prove them wrong.”

  “With what camera?”

  “Oh, right … Hang on, doesn’t your mom still have that camera with the fancy lens? I remember her taking photos of Miren at her kindergarten graduation.”

  “That was Dad’s.”

  “Oh.” Jaxon looked away, like he was afraid to meet Stanly’s eyes.

  “What about you? Your parents must have a camera.”

  “No way. Dad gave them all to Goodwill last year when he went through his whole Zen housecleaning phase. He said why keep all the cameras lying around when his phone could do the same thing.”

  Stanly’s eyes turned to Jaxon.

  “Oh no, not gonna happen.”

  “I didn’t even say anything yet,” said Stanly.

  “Yeah, well, don’t bother. There’s no chance Dad will let me borrow it. Trust me, I’ve tried. ‘Once you can afford to pay the bill yourself, then you can get a phone,’ that’s what he always says. That phone is his baby. He only let me touch it once, and I had to be seated on the couch with a pillow on my lap, just in case I dropped it.”

  “I never said he had to know about it,” said Stanly. No way was he going to get this far only to let the contest slip away.

  Jaxon’s eyes widened. Just then, the bell rang, and Jaxon nearly jumped out of his chair. “Forget about it, Stanly.”

  “He’ll never find out.”

  “I know you want to win, but we’re talking larceny.”

  “Boys, time to get to class!”

  “Yes, Mrs. Reed,” said Jaxon and Stanly together.

  “Come on, just think about it,” Stanly said as they hurried for homeroom.

  “I did think about it, and no. I’m too young to be grounded for life.”

  “We won’t get caught.”

  “ ‘Integrity is what you do when nobody is looking.’ James Darby, in Darby Brothers’ Mystery #23, The Tattle-Tale Heart.”

  They stopped outside the classroom door as the second bell rang.

  “Besides,” said Jaxon, “what would your dad say if he knew you’d won the contest by stealing?”

  That question felt like a cold fork slipped into Stanly’s chest. His dad hated stealing. He worked at a law firm where all they did was defend people who’d had their money stolen by big corporations.

  “Boys, the classroom’s in here. Would you two care to grace us with your presence?”

  Stanly sighed, like he was a balloon and someone had let out all the air. He took a seat next to Jaxon, barely remembering to stand when the Pledge of Allegiance came over the loudspeaker. When they sat down again, Stanly had to try hard to keep his head from drooping onto his desk. Things were that hopeless.

  He might have slumped onto the floor, right there in front of everyone, but Jaxon passed him a note when the teacher wasn’t looking.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something.”

  After school, Stanly wanted to go straight home to make more charts about the skeleton’s growth, but Mom insisted he help her shop for Miren’s birthday present. Her birthday was on Saturday, right before Jaxon’s Halloween party, and everyone was coming. Uncle Morris was even flying in from Florida.

  “Will Dad be there?” Stanly looked at the LEGOs on the shelf, like maybe he didn’t care about the answer.

  “He tried, but all the flights were booked.” Mom scratched the back of Stanly’s neck with her plastic nails. Stanly shrugged out of reach and swallowed the dust bunny that had formed in his throat. Figures, he hadn’t really thought Dad would be coming home anyway. He’d already missed New Year’s, Fourth of July, and Stanly’s birthday. He’d Skyped in for last Christmas, but that didn�
��t count.

  “Look, Stanly, they have Princess Mayflower Pony. She sailed the seas with Christopher Columbus, and she sparkles,” Mom read off the side of the package, probably trying to cheer him up.

  They put the pony and a pack of pink-and-purple LEGOs in the cart. Mom let Stanly pick out the gift bag and party favors. He chose jiggly rubber skeletons and kazoos that hiccupped when you blew on them.

  “Are you sure she’ll like those?” Mom said.

  Stanly was sure.

  At the checkout, the little screen flashed DECLINED after Mom swiped her credit card. That had only happened once when Dad was home, and that had been a mistake. Now it happened all the time.

  “Sorry, you’ll have to try another one,” said the clerk.

  “Hold on.” Mom’s cheeks flushed. The people behind them moved to another line. Stanly felt the skin on the back of his ears grow hot. “Can you take off the LEGOs, and the kazoos? Sorry, Stanly.”

  “It’s okay,” Stanly said. What else could he say? He knew how embarrassed she got whenever stuff like this happened, and it wasn’t her fault. She did the best she could, only keeping a whole family together wasn’t supposed to be a one-person job.

  “Swipe your card again.”

  The screen flashed ACCEPTED.

  “Good to go,” said the clerk. “Would you like your receipt in the bag?”

  In the parking lot, Mom stowed the sacks in the trunk. She waited for Stanly to climb into the passenger seat, and then she closed the door behind him. He watched in the rearview mirror as she shut her eyes and ran a hand over her face. She stood like that for a while before she climbed into the station wagon and started the engine.

  On the way home, Mom’s cell buzzed in her purse.

  “Can you get it?” Mom said. It had started to rain again, and she was straining to see through the smeared windshield.

  “Sure.” Stanly flipped open the phone. “Hello?”

  “Oh, it’s the little one. Tell Momma to come to Spring Hill Clinic. Use the emergency entrance. Tell her now, Stanly.” Ms. Francine’s voice shook in his ears.

  Stanly told Mom.

  “What do you mean the emergency entrance?”

  “She says to go now,” Stanly said. His fingers gripped the phone so tight they went numb. “She’ll meet us outside. Hurry, Mom.”

  Mom held Stanly’s hand as they ran up to the emergency entrance. She left her purse and keys in the car.

  “I’ll get them later, Stanly. We have to find your sister.” She sounded angry, but Stanly didn’t think she was angry at him.

  “Oh god, where is she?” Mom collapsed into Ms. Francine’s arms.

  Ms. Francine used her stiff shoulders to keep Mom from falling. “She’s okay. Come inside and I’ll show you.” She crooked a finger at Stanly. “You, too. Follow Ms. Francine.”

  She led them past a waiting room full of screaming, red-faced babies. One boy about Stanly’s age sat in a wheelchair, both legs wrapped in heavy casts.

  “I don’t understand why this happened,” Mom said, her voice muffled by Ms. Francine’s woolly sweater. “She was doing so well. She hasn’t even used her oxygen tank since … ” Mom stopped dead in the hallway. “Oh my god, the oxygen tank.”

  “It’s not your fault, Momma.” Mom started to slip and Ms. Francine held her tighter. “The little one is fine. The doctor said she can pick a treasure from his chest, whatever this means. Next time, you’ll remember.”

  Stanly didn’t understand what they were talking about. Then they went to Miren’s room, and Stanly saw the tubes hooked up to her nose and the machine that went whoosh, whoosh when it breathed for her. The oxygen tank. It had been in Mom’s trunk the whole time. He remembered it clanking around back there when they drove to the toy store.

  “Stanly!” Miren pulled the plastic mask from her face and tried to climb out of bed.

  “Don’t move, sweetheart.” Mom tucked Miren back in and kneeled at her side. “I’m so sorry.” She said something else, but the words got all choked up in her throat.

  “It’s okay, Momma.” A concerned look pinched Miren’s forehead, and she patted Mom’s shoulder the same way Ms. Francine had.

  Mom started to laugh and cry at the same time.

  Stanly came around to the other side of the bed and examined Miren’s treasures. Three this time. A Koosh ball, a plastic harmonica, and one of those army guys with a parachute on his back.

  “That one’s for you,” Miren said.

  Stanly hugged her. She smelled like sweat and laundry soap. “How do you feel, Mir-Bear?”

  “Guess what?” Miren said as Mom stroked her hair.

  “What?”

  “Skeleton-Butt!” Miren heaved with laughter. The laugh turned into a cough, and Mom fastened the mask back over Miren’s mouth.

  “Just for a little while, sweetheart. Breathe in.”

  “Who’s thirsty?” Ms. Francine said, standing in the doorway. “I get everyone soda. And a Butterfinger for Stanly. Momma, what can I get you?”

  “Nothing, thank you.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

  “No time for sorry. This is what we say in Kyrgyzstan. Only time to shear the sheep, and maybe milk the cows.” She swatted a hand at Mom. “I get you a Mars bar, good?” She left without waiting for an answer.

  The doctor came in and gave Miren some medicine that dripped from a tube into her wrist and made her fall asleep. He said they wanted to observe Miren overnight, and then he left to find a cot for Mom.

  “You go home with Ms. Francine,” Mom said. “I’ll order you a cab.” Ms. Francine had never learned to drive.

  “I’m staying with Miren.” Stanly was tired of Mom treating him like a little kid. He took care of Miren at home; he could do it here, too.

  Mom sighed. “You sleep on the cot, then. I’ll take the chair.”

  “No, Mom. I’m fine.” He curled up in the chair to show her it was a perfect fit.

  “Candy and soda.” Ms. Francine handed out the snacks and left Miren’s on the table by her bed. “And you might be wanting this.” She set Mom’s keys and purse on the counter next to the sink.

  “How did you know I’d left them?” Mom said, getting up to hug Ms. Francine.

  “I know.” Ms. Francine tapped the side of her nose the way she always did.

  They played Crazy Eights on a rolling tray table, and then Mom called a cab for Ms. Francine around midnight.

  “I come back first thing in the morning. Call me if you need me sooner.”

  “What would we do without you, Belka?”

  Stanly must have looked confused, because Ms. Francine said, “Belka Francine Bolotova. What can I say? This is my name.”

  Stanly squeezed Ms. Francine’s bony hips. A tiny voice murmured something, and they all turned around to see Miren sit up in bed.

  “What was that, sweetie?” Mom said.

  “Skeleton-Butt,” Ms. Francine whispered in Stanly’s ear. “They grow so fast.” She shook her head, and Stanly watched her fuzzy sweater disappear down the hall, under the sputtering incandescent lights.

  Mom made Stanly go to school the next day, while she stayed home from work and took care of Miren. Stanly didn’t listen when Mr. Crouch told him to take his head off the desk and pay attention. He ignored the nurse when she asked him to open up and say “aah.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t get detention,” Jaxon said. He fed a dollar into the vending machine. “You should have called me last night, by the way, and told me you were at the hospital. I messaged you seventeen times.”

  Stanly shrugged, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer. If he did, he’d have to tell Jaxon how scared he’d been seeing Miren in that hospital bed.

  “Oh well, no big deal. I hope it wasn’t anything serious.”

  Suddenly, Stanly felt a burning need to change the subject. “Hey, do you want to come to my house after school? We should get started on those charts, and then we can look for your
iPad some more in the backyard. We have to find it, it’s our only chance.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Jaxon paused and bit his lower lip. Once, twice, three times. “Stanly, you know how some people in the comments sections said they saw the picture move, I mean before it disappeared? Well, it’s just, right before it went away I was looking at it and I could have sworn I saw … ”

  “Skeleton-Butt?” Stanly said.

  “What?” Juice squirted out of Jaxon’s nose, but he looked relieved not to have to finish.

  “My sentiments exactly.”

  After a long and farty bus ride, Stanly and Jaxon raced into the kitchen to find Miren coloring at the kitchen table. She had the tubes stuffed up her nose again and chocolate smeared across her cheeks.

  “Stanly! Ms. Francine made cookies, and I ate so many I have a food baby. See?”

  Miren stuck out her stomach and rubbed it like she was pregnant.

  “Gross.”

  “You’re gross.” She squirmed out of the chair, but Stanly caught her before she could pull the tubes loose.

  “This one has the energy of a steam engine. You watch out for her.” Ms. Francine shook her head and put a second plate of cookies on the table. “Peanut butter chocolate chip. What can I say, I try something different. Sorry, Stanly, this batch is not from a tube.”

  “Where’s Mom?” Stanly said.

  “Momma had to work the night shift. She said she was sorry she didn’t get to see you before she left. Eat a cookie before they get cold.”

  Stanly picked up one of the cookies. It was so soft the chocolate oozed between his fingers. “That’s okay,” he said, mouth full of gooey sweetness. “Hey, these are pretty good.”

  After his fifth cookie, Ms. Francine shooed them all out of the kitchen with a dish towel. “Go outside and check on your tree. Some of us have dinner to cook. And make sure that little one wears a jacket.”

  “It’s not a tree,” Jaxon said, but Stanly knew it was no use arguing with Ms. Francine.