Rebel's Tag Read Free Page A

it’s an antique. If you don’t want it, then you should give it to your mom.”
    â€œI don’t think my mom plans to have anymore babies.”
    Indi shrugs. “Then I guess you’ll have to wait until you have your own kids.”
    I just look at her. She looks back, her eyes laughing, her lips smirking. I pretend to scratch my nose, very obviously, with just my middle finger.
    That’s when Goldy shows up with the burgers. She raises her eyebrows but only says, “Here’s your food, kids. And Joe says it’s on the house. Cheers.”
    The burger is excellent, the best I’ve ever had. Indi and I barely speak while we eat. When we’re done, I lean back and sigh. I have to admit, I feel good. Good enough to leave the twenty Grandpa Max gave me on the table, even though I don’t have to. I even feel good enough to take the stupid cradle with me. Although by the time I get on the bus with the thing, I’m already wishing I’d left it behind. Everyone who gets on the bus stares at it. A couple of jokers even ask where my baby doll is.
    â€œSo lame,” I mutter.
    â€œYeah, they are,” Indi says.
    I don’t bother to tell her I mean the cradle. She knows that’s what I meant but she doesn’t want to hear me whine about it. She starts telling me about one of her girlfriends who’s having problems with her boyfriend. On and on. I don’t even bother to remind her she’s doing it again. I just say, “uh-huh,” sometimes. Mostly I stare out the window and pretend I’m not holding what I’m holding.
    There’s no way this “gift” changes how I feel about my deadbeat grandfather.

chapter five
    Mom’s not around when I get home and I’m glad. I ditch the cradle in the kitchen and head out again. With any luck, some of the guys on the next block will be playing street hockey. I’m in the mood to bash something around.
    I have no luck. The street is empty. I think about knocking on doors, telling them to get their butts outside. But then I remember Rob had to babysit his littlesister today and Jas is grounded. Tim is probably deep into some computer game, and who knows where the rest of them are. It’s not worth trying to get anything going now.
    Time for Plan B. Whether Indi joins me or not, I’m roofing tonight. I have to. That means I should get a new can of spray paint. I pick up my pace for the walk to the hardware store and think about trying a new color. Red would be good. Ruby red.
    When I get home, Mom isn’t in the kitchen making dinner. This sucks, because I’m hungry. I find her in the living room, sitting on the floor beside the cradle. She hums to herself and strokes the polished wood as if it’s alive.
    â€œMom?” I say.
    She doesn’t answer, so I repeat myself. Loudly. “Mom?”
    â€œHey, Sam,” she says softly. Then she sighs. And she starts humming again.
    Maybe she’s lost it. “What are you doing?” I ask.
    Finally she looks at me. “Isn’t it beautiful? You slept in this cradle when you were a baby, you know that? And your father too. And his father before him, Grandpa Max.”
    â€œOkay,” I say. “But why are you petting it?”
    She giggles. “I’m not petting it! I was just remembering when you were a baby. You were so gorgeous.”
    Oh, man. I start backing out of the room. Suddenly Mom bolts up onto her knees, leans over the cradle and stares intensely. Jeez, she really is losing it.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I ask. “You see a ghost or something?”
    â€œNo,” she says, “I just remembered. There’s a secret compartment in this cradle.”
    â€œWhat?” In a flash, I’m down on my knees beside her. “Are you sure?”
    â€œYes,” she says slowly, “I’m sure. But I don’t recall how it works.”
    â€œWell, think, Mom. Think,” I