Just before we went into Manny's, Kit paused to run her hands through her hair and wipe her face. She slapped her cheeks twice and then turned to me with a smile.
"Smile, Words," she said.
I nodded and did my best.
Manny's was a little bigger than Trimble's Grocers. The outside had wood shingling that kind of made it look like a cabin. The inside had wooden floors and paneling. All of the shelving was made of wood, too. There were about a dozen pairs of antlers mounted on the front wall behind the long front counter that held the two registers.
The two cars that sat in the parking lot—which was eight spaces that ran along the front of the building—could only mean one thing. Manny had customers. I didn't like the idea of facing anyone else in town, but there was no turning back. Kit was already heading inside.
Manny stood behind the counter, hunched over a stack of papers. When he heard the bell, he looked up. He started to smile, but when he saw that it was Kit and me, his face twitched. I knew my hood was tight against my face, but I pulled on the strings anyway.
"Hi there, kiddos," Manny said, but not in the loud, happy way he greeted everyone else. He looked at the full carts we were pushing. "Shopping spree, huh?"
Kit smiled back. "I wish! If you go on a shopping spree you buy clothes and shoes and fun stuff, not food. This is just chores. How are you doing, Manny?"
He straightened with a little groan. His hand went to his lower back. "I'm doing great, Jolene. And yourself?"
"Wonderful, thank you." She pushed her cart along the counter until she stood in front of Manny.
I hesitated for a second but figured I should follow. If she wanted him to see how much food we got from Trimble's, I had better move closer to shove it in face as best we could. That was the easy part. I'd let her do the hard part.
"Sammie," Manny said to me. "And how are you?"
My mind was still spinning from what Mr. Trimble had said about the cemetery. I didn't think I could say anything, so I just nodded hello.
Manny nodded back. He turned to Kit. "What can I do you for?"
Just as Kit opened her mouth to speak, two women's voices drifted out of an aisle. There was a burst of laughter and then— "Oh!" The laughter stopped.
We turned to find Mrs. Banks and her sister, Ms. Hardy, staring at us from out of aisle four. They each had one of Manny's brown hand baskets hanging from the crooks of their arms like purses. We might've stayed like that, frozen and staring at each other, forever if Manny hadn't spoken up.
"You need any help, ladies?"
His voice shook Mrs. Banks from her stare. "No. Thank you, Manny. We're just about to check out."
"Well, come on up here, then. You very well can't do it from way back there, now can you?"
The women hesitated. They looked at each other.
"Oh, I forgot . . . something . . ." Mrs. Banks said. She looked at her sister.
Ms. Hardy caught on. "Oh. Right! Yes. Let's go get . . . that."
The two women retreated back down aisle four. They leaned in close to each other and whispered frantically. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but Ms. Hardy's hands were flying all around. Mrs. Banks threw a look over her shoulder at us before she and her sister disappeared into another aisle.
Manny stared after them a moment, his forehead creased and mouth pulled tight. Then his face unscrunched itself and he turned back to us. "What did you two need today?"
"We," Kit paused. "You see, we don't . . . we were hoping you . . ."
I'd never seen Kit so flustered. Her cheeks were flaming and she wasn't meeting Manny's eye. Mr. Trimble and Mrs. Banks and Ms. Hardy had thrown her off.
Manny gave us a lost expression. "Well, spit it out. If I don't have it, I'll let you know."
"Well, you see . . . our . . ."
I hadn't planned on saying anything, but seeing her fumble for words was almost painful. "We need some stuff, but we don't have any money," I blurted out.
Manny and Kit both turned to me. He simply nodded and she gave me a thin smile.
"You're looking for a handout, huh?" Manny asked. He fingered the edges of a stack of papers.
Kit tensed. Once again she opened her mouth but nothing came out.
"That's exactly it, Manny," I said.
Manny picked up a pen and tapped the stack of papers with it over and over again. The tempo getting faster by the second.
"Old Man Trimble gives us a ton of food—this food, actually," I said. "He says he just does this charity write-off, or something like that."
Manny offered an intrigued frown and titled his head from side to side. "I don't know about that. I'd have to look into it. See how that'd work."
Kit nodded. "Right. Of course." She pulled on her cart to turn it around and two boxes of Rice Krispies fell to the floor. "We'll get going. It's okay, Manny." She bent down to grabbed the cereal boxes.
"Just hold on, now," Manny said. He looked at the stack of papers again. "What'd you kiddos need? Let me see if there's anything I can do."
She straightened up. "Really?"
"I can't make no promises," Manny held up his hands, "but tell me what you're after."
She nodded. "It wouldn't be much. We just wanted some decorations for a Halloween party."
Manny jerked his head back. "A party?"
Kit shook her head. "It's not like . . . that . . ."
"We want the kids to have some kind of normal life," I said. "We thought it'd be nice."
"And your parents aren't helping you get what you need?" Manny asked. His voice was flat. One eyebrow raised halfway up his forehead.
"No. They're not." I said, my voice rough.
Manny looked at me with a start.
"So, are you going to help us out or not?" I asked, my eyes on his.
Our eyes locked for about two seconds, then I saw his begin to slide over the lines of writing that were still visible on my face. I felt myself cringe inside, but I didn't dare look away.
Manny threw down his pen. "Well, I can't give out no charity," he said. "Store's never been much of a money maker. I've barely been breaking even for years—not that you need to tell anyone that."
So, that was that. Manny was just another person in Oak Knoll that didn't care, that wanted to forget us. I would have felt hurt if I was so busy feeling angry.
Kit looked about to cry. "Well, thanks for—"
"But I'm losing Houston. His grades have been real bad this year at school so far, and I don't think he's going to be sticking around after Christmas Break."
I didn't see what his point was. "So?" I said.
"So? So, I can't do everything myself. In case you hadn't noticed, I've been an old man for quite some time now," he said. "So, if you need goods, we can barter. My merchandise for your hard work."
"It's a deal, Manny!" Kit clasped her hands together and threw a glance my way. "Thank you, Manny! We'll work it off! Thank you!"
"You won't even be getting minimum wage. Be warned."
She threw her hands up. "That's fine! That's fine! We owe you so much already."
Manny smirked. "So, what is it you kiddos need?"
Kit pulled a piece of paper out of her back pocket and unfolded it. This was a different piece of paper from her grocery list. I was happy to see that the list didn't run onto the back.
"I'm not really sure what you have for Halloween this year—"
"You're talking along the lines of decorations and costumes and such?"
She nodded.
"I didn't order a single thing this time around," Manny said. "No one was in the mood to celebrate it this year."
"Oh. Well, that's okay," Kit said. "I have plenty of backup plans! You have arts and crafts supplies?"
"Tons. Too much."
She smiled, hurried to grab a shopping cart, and then rushed off down an aisle.
* * *
I let Kit do her thing and waited by the front of the store. After a couple of minutes, Mrs. Banks and Ms. Hardy came back. They hesitated at the end of the aisle when they saw me. It was almost funny. I had an urge to run at them and yell "Booga-booga!"
"Come on out," Manny said, waving them toward him. "He's not contagious, for Heaven's sake."
Mrs. Banks and Ms. Hardy were only a year apart in age and could've passed for twins. They were both pretty and tall and thin with tons of wavy blond hair. Mrs. Banks' husband owned a golf course thirty minutes away. I wasn't quite sure what Ms. Hardy did, it had something to do with finances or investments or something.
They made sure to not even glance in my direction as they went to the register.
"Ring it all up together, Manny." Mrs. Banks said. She and her sister set their baskets side by side on the counter. "We're in a hurry."
"I understand," Manny said. And then he rang up Mrs. Banks' and Ms. Hardy's purchases slower than I could've ever imagined possible. He couldn't find the barcodes or the barcodes wouldn't scan. He also bagged everything so slowly and carefully that it might have been dynamite. It must've taken ten minutes and they didn't even have that much stuff. When they finally grabbed their bags and rushed to the front door, they whispered to each other again. This time, I could hear what they said. I think they wanted me to.
"Makes me happy I never married and had kids," Ms. Hardy said.
"I never thought I'd be grateful for three miscarriages," Mrs. Banks said.
The bell over the door rang and they were gone.
"Idiots," Manny said. He went over to the doors and pulled out a key ring. He shoved a key into the lock, twisted it, and then flipped the sign hanging in the door from OPEN to CLOSED.
A rush of panic went through me. Why had he locked us in? What was he going to do? He let the keys hang from the lock. Would we be able to get past him and open the door in time to escape? I was about to yell out to Kit that we needed to get out of there when Manny turned to me. I thought he'd look angry or triumphant—ah, ha, I finally got you! But his eyes looked sad.
"I'll drive you two back up to . . . that house." He motioned to our carts of food. "Doesn't make any sense letting you lug all that all the way back up there when I have my truck."
And then I got it. He wasn't locking us in. He was keeping everyone else—everyone who might not like seeing us there, like Mrs. Banks and Ms. Hardy—out.
Kit reappeared with a huge smile. "Manny, thank you so much. We are going to have the best Halloween ever!"
"You know, what? Hold on!" He started towards the back of the store. "Put all that on the counter so I can ring it up. I'll be right back." And then he darted down an aisle and was gone.
Kit pushed the cart to the counter and I joined her. We unloaded the items. Glue. Glitter. Four different colors of yarn. Two pairs of scissors. Colored pencils. Markers. Construction paper.
When we'd finished, she turned to me. "I just thought up a new game. Pin-The-Wart-On-The-Witch. The twins are going to love it!"
I gave a half-smile. She was right, the twins would love it.
Manny returned with a big box in his arms. He threw in onto the counter and opened the top flaps. "I forgot about this," he said. He gave us a quick grin. "Leftovers from last year."
He pulled out each item and held it up proudly. Several packs of cobwebs, black and orange streamers, a witch's caldron. Foam skulls, foam bones, and those things that stuck to walls and looked like dripping blood. He rang it all up as he went.
As he scanned, I watched the total on the display as it rose. After the box, he rang up the craft supplies and bagged it up. When he was done, the total came to just over three hundred dollars.
Thinking about all that money we owed him made it hard to swallow.
"Looks like I've got me some indentured servants," Manny said with a grin.
"We owe you, big time, Manny. Thank you so much." Kit said. She didn't seem nervous about our arrangement at all.
"I'm serious. You're going to work off every dime of merchandise you take from here. It'll help you get what you need, help me around the shop, and teach you kiddos a thing or two about the importance of hard work."
Kit smiled even wider. "Sounds like everyone wins."
* * *
I really didn't want to accept Manny's offer to drive us back to 407 West Marshall Street, but when I saw how much stuff we had altogether—from Manny's and Trimble's—it was obvious we needed the help. Kit must've realized that, too, because she didn't protest either.
We loaded everything into the back of Manny's old blue pickup and then got into the cab. Manny struggled his way up into the driver's seat while Kit and then I climbed in on the passenger side. The seat was a long bench that went all the way across the cab. She flopped down in the middle of it. I leaned against the passenger door and tried to keep my legs from bumping into hers.
We turned onto Main Street and Manny rolled down his window and spit. "How are you kiddos doing up there all by yourselves, anyhow?" he asked. "You all behaving the way you should?"
Kit and I exchanged looks. The House Rule about not telling anyone about what happened inside the house was so vague that neither of us wanted to say anything at all. I thought about the possibility that maybe The Voice wouldn't know since we were out of the house, but I didn't want to risk it. I definitely want Kit to risk it.
Manny sensed our unease. "You know, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. You can tell me to shut up."
We turned onto Center Street. Within a few seconds we were out of town and heading north through the woods. The tires crunched over twigs and fallen leaves.
"We appreciate that, Manny," Kit said. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me," Manny said. "Tell me to shut up. Come on. Do it!"
"Oh, fine. Shut up, Manny!" Kit slapped both hands over her mouth. A second later, she started laughing. Manny joined in, and then even I did, too.
I realized I looked forward to working for Manny. It'd get me out of the house and I'd get to be around Manny, who was turning out to be not only nice—but also funny. The thought of having someone outside of the house who wasn't afraid to look at or talk to me felt amazing.
Our laughter disappeared and Marshall Park rose out of the ground as we climbed the final hill up to Marshall Street. Manny turned onto West Marshall and then slowed the pace of the truck down to a crawl.
"I haven't been north of town in years," he said. He turned his head and watched the playground equipment as we rolled by.
"But . . . didn't you go to The Man with the Accordion Legs' Farewell?" Kit said.
"Naw." He shook his head. "Man alive, it is gorgeous up here with the leaves turning! Makes me want to move in with the lot of you if it'd mean seeing this every day."
"Why didn't you go to the Farewell, Manny? You must've been the only one in town who wasn't there." Kit threw me a confused look. "The Hawthorns even came back early from a vacation in Florida so they could be there! Didn't you want to see the inside of the house? Find out what he had to say?"
Manny shrugged as the house came into sight. "Not really. Figured the old coot had his fill of people gawking at him. Besides, I knew I'd hear everything I needed to know from people gabbing on about it in the store."
We rolled to a stop in front of the house. He threw open his door and slid off the seat to the ground with a groan.
Kit and I both got out and went to the back of the truck. I climbed up into the bed and released the carts from the bungee cords we used to keep them in place. The three of us worked together to lower them to the ground. Then we looped our arms through the handles of the many plastic bags from Manny's store. Manny closed the tailgate and grabbed the box of Halloween supplies.
"Lead the way!" he said.
As we approached the front door, I realized that Manny might try to come inside—not to be nosy or anything, but to see where we wanted him to set the box down. There wasn't a House Rule that said no one else could come inside, but I had a feeling The Voice wouldn't like it. Besides, if no one was supposed to know what happened inside of the house, then letting him come inside would technically be breaking that rule because he'd see it for himself, right? Or maybe not. There was no way to know for sure.
We reached the front door, and Kit opened it. She pulled her cart inside. I did the same. I felt a wave of relief when Manny waited outside the front door.
I pulled my cart a few feet down the hallway and then went back to Manny and took the box from him. He didn't even try to peek inside the house to look around. He just kept his eyes on me and said, "I'll be in touch about working all that off. Once I lose Houston for sure."
Kit came up behind me. "Of course! Just let us know when!" Her voice sounded funny, so I turned to look at her. Her eyes were watery, but not in a sad way. She looked at Manny with so much gratitude that it made me want to do anything she asked if it would make her look at me like that. "Thank you so much for everything, Manny," she said.
She nudged me with her hip. My entire body tingled.
"Yeah. Thanks, Manny."
"You're both very welcome. I'm happy to help out anytime." He jabbed a finger at her and then at me. "And I mean it. Anytime, kiddos. You need something, let me know. We'll just put in on your tab." He winked at us and then turned and headed down the sidewalk to his truck.
Kit and I stood there and watched him go. When his truck had slipped out of sight, she threw her arms around my shoulders and whispered, "See, everything works out," and I felt myself almost start to believe it.