Desperate Measures Read Free Page B

Dad. Like that kid Jerry at school. He’s adopted. I bet she lied to you, I bet someone would too adopt you,” Barney said loyally as he put his arms around Pete’s thin shoulders. “Go ahead and cry, Pete, I won’t tell anyone. When you’re done crying, we can eat some cookies.”
    â€œThat lady said she wants to sell my surfboard so I can get new shoes and a haircut. The other lady said she couldn’t do that. It’s breaking the rules if she sells it. It’s mine!” Pete blubbered. “It’s the last present my mom and dad gave me. They won’t take it, will they, Barney?”
    â€œDamn right it’s yours,” Barney blustered. “Grownups aren’t supposed to break the rules. You tell, Pete, if she does, and don’t be afraid of her. Nah, they won’t take it,” he promised, his fingers crossed behind his back.
    â€œShe’s ugly inside her heart. My mom always said you can tell when someone has an ugly heart. The lady in the blue dress is nice, but she’s not allowed to be nice to me,” Pete blubbered.
    Barney inched closer to his friend. “Pete, I know you’re just little, but can’t you remember anything about your uncle, where he lives and stuff?”
    â€œNo. Would he ’dopt me, Barney?”
    â€œWell, sure. That’s why you have relatives. That’s what my mom said. I have an uncle Sam and an aunt Doris. They kiss me and pinch my cheeks all the time. They’re okay, I guess. There’s supposed to be papers. My dad used to keep all kinds of papers in a box that has a key. Did your dad have a box with a key?”
    â€œNope. My mom had a box. There were only three papers in it and some pictures. When they got married—that paper; when I was born; and when I wore a long white dress and they dipped my head in water—those papers. My mother’s necklace that she wore to church on Sunday was in the box too. That lady said it was pitiful. She said there wasn’t enough food in the refrigerator either. I wasn’t hungry, Barney. If I wasn’t hungry that means there was enough, huh?”
    â€œDamn right it was enough. We have lots of food. You should have told her that.”
    â€œWhat’s it like when you’re dead, Barney?”
    Barney had no idea what it was like, but Pete needed to know. “You live on a cloud, way up high, and you can look down and see everyone. You can’t get off the cloud, though. You wear long white things and you kind of ... sort of ... float around. Everybody smiles and is happy because living on a cloud is the neatest thing.”
    â€œThen I want to be dead too.”
    â€œNo you don’t. Little kids can’t die. There’s . . . there’s no room on the cloud. You have to be ... big ... grown-up.”
    Pete thought about Barney’s words. “How do you get up there?”
    Barney’s eyes rolled back in his head. “They have this invisible ladder and you just go up and up and then somebody already on the cloud pulls you up. Neat, huh?”
    â€œYeah. My mom and dad can see me, huh?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œI’m not supposed to cry. My dad said big boys don’t cry. Do you cry, Barney?”
    He wanted to cry right now. “Nah. People make fun of you if you cry. You can cry until you’re seven, then you can’t cry no more.”
    â€œWho said?”
    â€œI said,” Barney said firmly.
    â€œYou’re my best friend, Barney.”
    â€œYou’re my best friend too, Pete.”
    â€œAre you going to take real good care of Harry and Lily?”
    â€œDamn right.”
    â€œHow long can I stay here?”
    â€œUntil they find you, I guess. I swear I won’t tell, Pete. I think you should be my brother. Let’s cut our fingers and mix our blood. That will make it official. You wanna do it?”
    â€œDamn right I do.” Pete grinned. “Don’t tell