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.She told me how one time her mom had knitted her a sweater and she had hated it so much she threw it in the garbage.Then she told her mom she had left it on the school bus.When it was my turn, I had told Luanne about the time I wrote a nasty word on my desk at school.When my teacher saw it and hollered at me, I told her Emily Markham had done it.Emily had cried so hard she got an asthma attack and had to go home.That was it.That was the worst thing I’d ever done.But not anymore.If Luanne and I camped out and shared our secrets now, I’d have to tell her I had stolen a dog.What would she think about that, I wondered.I fell asleep that night to the soothing sound of the creek, flowing over rocks and winding through the dark woods somewhere outside the car window.The next day after school, I went straight on over to Carmella’s.Toby had to study for his spelling test at the coffee shop.Mama thought I was trying out for the softball team like Luanne and Liza and everybody.I knew I shouldn’t be lying to Mama, but I had to.I needed to find out if Carmella had gotten any money yet.When I got up on the porch, I could hear Carmella inside yelling.“Yeah, well, thanks a lot, Gertie.” Then there was the bang of the phone slamming down.Hard.“Carmella?” I called through the screen door.I heard her shuffling up the hall.“It’s me.Georgina.” I squinted through the screen into the dark room.Carmella was standing there with her arms dangling limply at her sides and her hair hanging over her face.“Carmella?”She lifted her head real slow and looked at me.Her face was all red and splotchy.I pushed the screen door open and stuck my head in.“Can I come in?” I said.She nodded.I stepped inside.The house smelled like rotten food or something.“What’s the matter?” I said.Carmella made her way over to her easy chair and dropped into it with a grunt.Her hair was damp with sweat, sticking to her splotchy cheeks.“I came home from work early just so I could call Gertie,” she said.“I should’ve known better.She just flat out won’t lend me any money.”“Oh.”“I guess she don’t remember that time I kept her kids while she was in the hospital,” she said.“Or that time I drove clear out to Gatesville in the middle of the night when her car broke down.”She took a magazine off the pile on the coffee table and fanned herself.“I guess being sisters don’t mean nothing,” she said.“So what’re you gonna do?”She threw her hands up and let them fall on her knees with a slap.“Nothing I can do.If somebody brings Willy home, I’ll just have to—hey, wait a minute.” She snapped her fingers and grinned at me.“What?” I said.“I know who’ll lend me money,” she said.“Who?”“My uncle Haywood.”She pushed herself up out of the chair and went over to the desk.She took a beat-up address book out of the drawer and flipped through the pages.“There!” She jabbed a finger at the page.“Uncle Haywood.I’m gonna call him.”And so she did.Called her uncle Haywood and told him the whole pitiful story.I’d lived every minute of it, but it like to broke my heart hearing about it like that.When she finished, she said, “Yessir,” and “No, sir,” and “I will.”By the time she had hung up, she was grinning at me and clapping her hands.“Is he gonna lend you the money?” I said.“He sure is.” Carmella pushed the damp hair away from her face.“Now all I have to do is hope and pray somebody brings my Willy home,” she said.Suddenly her smile drooped and her eyebrows squeezed together.“Do you think he’s okay?”“Who?”“Willy,” she said.“Do you think Willy’s okay?”“Sure,” I said.“Really?”I nodded.Carmella looked out the window.“I hope you’re right,” she said.“I bet he’s trying to find his way home right now,” I said.Carmella kept staring out the window.“I wonder where he is,” she said.I felt my face burning.I was glad Carmella wasn’t looking at me.“I bet he’s, um, oh, probably …”“I hope he’s not scared,” Carmella said.I shook my head.“Naw, he’s not scared.I mean, I bet he isn’t
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