The Midnight War of Mateo Martinez Page 8

  And that, that right there, made it easy. Or easier. He never really did back me up, I thought. Johnny didn’t kick balls at us or say rude stuff, but he didn’t really stick up for me or Ashwin. Not ever. Johnny knew all about me, and I knew all about him, but I didn’t understand him anymore, and he didn’t understand me. Johnny didn’t get why I had to defend Ashwin, my brother-in-arms. But me and Ashwin had said an oath. Together. I still liked Johnny. Wanted to be friends, even. Just not without Ashwin.

  “Nah,” I said again, staring right at Johnny. “Like I said, me and Ashwin are doing something.” Ashwin’s freaked-out smile disappeared. His real, goofy, ready-to-go-to-battle-by-my-side smile came back.

  “He could come over too, Mateo. That’s cool with me,” Ashwin said.

  Johnny tugged at the bottom of his T-shirt with one hand, which I know he does when he’s nervous. I chewed on the inside of my cheek, waiting for him to say something.

  Danny and Martin skidded to a stop at the corner. “Come on, Johnny. You coming or what?” yelled Danny.

  Johnny kicked at his pedal a couple times, then told me and Ashwin, “Nah—that’s okay. We’re doing something too.”

  And Johnny rolled away.

  Back in September, when I’d taken Ashwin to the library instead of playing soccer at lunch, I hadn’t really known what I was doing. I didn’t get that I was choosing sides.

  That day, I did, and so did Ashwin.

  And I also knew it was time to talk some trash.

  “Man, Danny thinks he’s so cool ’cause he has a backyard and got to build his own tree house. ’Cause he speaks Spanish and goes to Mexico at Christmas for like the whole month. ’Cause he comes back with piles of spicy candy and only shares it with Johnny. But no way is Danny Vega a knight.”

  “Not even a dark one.” Ashwin grinned.

  “Let’s roll,” I said.

  We both ran—me pushing my bike and Ashwin checking over his shoulder to make sure those guys were gone. I still don’t really know how to explain what it felt like. We’d come within inches of Daniel Vega without getting squashed. I bet you my dad had said something to Danny’s, and that was a relief, but Johnny had rolled away, and this time I knew he wasn’t coming back. I couldn’t feel mad at Johnny about it, but I could still feel mad at Danny—not for me, but for Ashwin.

  We turned the corner to Ashwin’s house, and I relaxed. “After we get the trike back, we should ride our bikes through Danny’s garden,” I said. “I bet you they don’t have an alarm on that.”

  “Yeah,” said Ashwin, smiling with his mouth open. “And I’ll run over that KEEP OUT sign next to his junky tree house!”

  Me and Ashwin laughed and ran down his driveway. I leaned my bike next to the rusty orange girl’s bike back by the garage. Ashwin hadn’t ridden it in such a long time that little bits of ivy were growing over it. When we got inside, I called Dad and left him a message while Ashwin raided the fridge. He spread blobs of peanut butter and jelly on spicy cheese puffs. He smushed them into little worm sandwiches and ate them one at a time.

  “How can you eat that?” I asked.

  “Come on, try some. It’s sooo good.” Ashwin opened his mouth wide so I could see everything.

  “Gross,” I said, snatching the last sticky bun from the pan.

  Out the kitchen window, I saw Mila zooming up the driveway. Her polka-dot baby stroller was overflowing with stuff.

  “Here comes Mila,” I told Ashwin.

  “Already?” he asked. “How did she get all that junk you asked for?”

  “It’s not junk,” I told him. “It’s our armor!”

  Mila rammed the doll stroller into the back steps, and my fireman rain boots came shooting out. They landed on Ashwin’s back porch—thump, thump.

  “Your stinky sweats were already in the dryer,” she said. “Dad must have done it. So I brought those too.”

  I sniffed at the clothes. They did still stink, but only a little. Mostly they smelled like all the soap I’d dumped in the washer and a little bit like tangy tomato. I guess Dad didn’t notice, so I must not have busted the washer.

  Me and Ashwin unloaded all the stuff from the stroller and hid everything in the bushes by the back steps. We were almost ready!

  “I figured it out,” Mila said. “I know how we can catch the skunks.”

  Ashwin gave me another look.

  “Err, Mila, you have to go home, remember?”

  “I know. But I thought …”

  “We’ve totally got it figured out,” Ashwin said.

  “We’ll tell you all about it,” I said, moving some branches around to hide our armor supplies.

  “And you’ll get my trike back for real?” Mila tugged at her backpack straps.

  “We are definitely getting the trike back,” said Ashwin, holding his hands up like she was pointing a water gun at him.

  “Promise you’ll get my trike back for me?” She grabbed her straps tighter.

  “Promise,” I lied.

  I was gonna get it back.

  But I was gonna get it back for me.

  16.

  The Ambush

  It was finally time.

  Mrs. Vaz let us stay up late to watch a movie, but she went off to bed. We turned the volume way up on the TV. Mrs. Vaz didn’t mind—she uses earplugs when she sleeps.

  Ashwin snuck into the bathroom and filled up our water guns with his mom’s perfume. He wasn’t even nervous. “I’ll tell her I spilled it.”

  “She’ll believe you,” I laughed.

  We finished the movie and stuffed ourselves with chips and soda while we waited for Mrs. Vaz’s light to go off.

  After the little skinny strip of carpet under her bedroom door finally went dark, I could barely sit still. “Let’s wait ten more minutes, just to be sure she’s asleep,” I whispered. Ashwin was all twitchy and excited from the soda too. I wondered again if I should tell him more about Nuts and Buggies, since Mila was finally out of the way. I had been able to convince Ashwin that two skunks stole my trike because it was missing and I stank. But talking skunks? I didn’t know. The minutes ticked by, and telling him only got harder. What if I was wrong? I hate being wrong. Being wrong is worse than being in trouble.

  “Let’s go,” I finally said.

  We snuck out the back door and rummaged around in the bushes for our armor. First off, we ripped apart a bunch of the black trash bags Mila brought. We cut holes for our heads and arms and pulled the bags on. Then we each ripped apart two more bags to cover our arms and legs. I wrapped silver duct tape around the black plastic until it really did look like the plate armor we saw in Medieval Weapons and Warfare. I even tore off strips to make a design on our breastplates.

  “What is that?” Ashwin asked. “A star?”

  “Nah, it’s like the spokes of a wheel. You know—for the trike!”

  Ashwin wasn’t convinced. “Couldn’t we have a dragon or something?”

  “Sure, Ashwin. Go ahead,” I handed him the roll of duct tape. “If you can make a dragon out of duct tape, I’ll do all your math homework next week.”

  “I guess a dragon would be kind of hard. We’ll be Knights of the Trike. That’s cool, right?”

  We nodded and pulled on pairs of goggles, rain boots, and my mom’s swimming caps.

  “Where should we set up the ambush?” asked Ashwin.

  I’d thought about that all day. I knew where we needed to station ourselves, and it wasn’t going to be easy.

  “By one of Mr. Mendoza’s hydrangea hedges,” I said. “That’s where I found them last night. I think that’s where the skunks keep the trike during the day. That’s gotta be why Mr. Mendoza thinks we’ve been messing with his flowers: trike tracks.”

  “Oh man,” groaned Ashwin. “This is not good.”

  “We don’t have a choice. Come on. Let’s get our bikes.”

  My silver Steed shined like a quarter in the moonlight. Ashwin’s big sister’s old banana-seat, with rusty orange pain
t, could have been one of Mr. Mendoza’s squashed persimmons from last fall.

  Ashwin said something really bad under his breath as he yanked his bike out of the ivy. Like, not just impolite. Super bad.

  We pushed our rides down the driveway. Our armor made rustling noises and our rain boots kind of clunked against the ground, but we weren’t too loud. Ashwin wobbled a little at the sidewalk, when we hopped on the bikes, and then got pedaling fast enough to straighten out. I started slow but soon I zipped into the middle of the street. Riding Steed in the middle of the night is pretty awesome. The cool air and the dark houses and the quiet, empty streets somehow made me feel huge, like something even bigger than a grownup. Nobody was around. I pedaled harder, and the black trash bag armor flapped around in my super-fast wind.

  When Ashwin and I passed by Danny Vega’s house, we slowed down a little. I skidded to a stop at his driveway.

  “We could do it,” I said to Ashwin. “Pop some wheelies in Danny’s garden. Pay him back for that soccer ball. We wouldn’t even need to go near the trash and Danny’s dumb alarm. Nobody would ever know it was us.”

  I said all that kinda hoping Ashwin wouldn’t want to.

  ’Cause what if we did get caught?

  What would happen then?

  “Nah,” Ashwin said. “It would compromise the real mission. Besides, if anybody did find out it was us, that would mean definite war, and this time Johnny would have to back Danny up. I know you still like him. Johnny, I mean. Even though …” Ashwin shrugged. He looked away, and I looked away.

  Ashwin just gets stuff. Even when you think he’s not paying attention, that he might not understand, he is and he does. And he doesn’t make a big deal about it.

  “Okay!” I grinned. “Let’s go set up the ambush.”

  The two of us crossed to the opposite side of the street and stopped before we got to Mr. Mendoza’s house. We stashed our bikes against the wooden fence on the other side of Mr. Mendoza’s hedge. Technically we were in Mrs. Pratt’s yard, but just being that close to Mr. Mendoza’s made me nervous. We crouched down in the dirt next to the fence.

  We listened and waited.

  I kept my eyes on the sidewalk without blinking.

  Even my eyeballs felt excited.

  Then we heard them. First a rustling came from the other side of the fence, and then a sharp creak. Ashwin punched my shoulder, and my armor crackled. I held a finger to my lips and then opened my palm up.

  Universal kid-code for “shut up and wait.”

  Then we really heard them.

  “It’s time, Nuts,” said a gravelly voice.

  “Yes sir, Sergeant Buggies—manning the vehicle!” said the squeaky one, Nuts.

  After another rustling sound, I heard something super familiar—a little honk from a horn. The skunks were getting on the trike!

  Ashwin’s mouth was hanging open. His buckteeth shined in the moonlight. I could tell he had heard them too. So at least I knew I wasn’t going nuts. I pointed at the bikes, and he nodded with his eyes bugging out of his head. Maybe I should have told him. But by then it was too late to explain. I pulled my goggles down over my eyes, and so did he.

  We hopped on our bikes as quietly as possible. But in black garbage bags, rain boots, and swim goggles, you can’t actually do anything quietly.

  “Did you hear that, Nuts?”

  “I did, sir! Two possible hostile raccoons on our left.”

  I froze and put my foot on the pedal, ready to push off. Those skunks were not getting away from me this time.

  “Do a quick recon and report back.”

  A little black-and-white head peeked around the fence and peered into the dark.

  “Rotting snail-bait, Sergeant Buggies, I think it’s that kid from Caballero Road, and he’s got reinforcements.”

  “You know what to do, Nuts,” said the gravelly voice. Buggies.

  “Aye-aye, sir! Bringing the stink!” The little skunk whipped around on the sidewalk and did that handstandy thing again.

  But this time I was ready.

  “Here it comes, Ashwin. Get ready, and close your mouth!”

  The stream of skunk spray came shooting through the moonlight like a falling star. It splattered over our black garbage bags with a sound like a garden hose on a car window.

  “I’m hit! I’m hit!” Ashwin said.

  I wiped the skunk spray off my goggles.

  The little skunk jumped down on all fours again and disappeared into the bushes.

  Foopsh!

  Both skunks burst out of the blue hydrangea bush, cruising on the trike. They did a quick reversal maneuver and started zooming down the driveway.

  “This is it! Let’s go!” I yelled to Ashwin. “You go around the corner and head them off. I’ll follow them through Mr. Mendoza’s yard!”

  Ashwin pedaled down the block. His big sister’s banana-seat squawked when he went fast. Well, he was going really fast—squawk-squawk-squawk.

  I took a deep breath and peeked into Mr. Mendoza’s windows. There was a blue light, like a TV left on, but no Mendoza. I pushed off hard and raced down the driveway after the skunks.

  I could see the skunks pedaling up-down-up-down. They were rolling along the gravel path through Mr. Mendoza’s orchard.

  I ducked under a low, bare branch on the orchard’s apple tree. Then I coasted around the curve in the yard’s path, spraying gravel behind Steed.

  I saw Ashwin skid to a stop on the sidewalk ahead. His bike blocked off the end of the path. We were totally going to get them. The skunks did another reversal on the trike and turned around, but they could see me coming fast.

  I parked Steed across my end of the path, blocking their way.

  “There’s nowhere to go,” I panted. “Give up the trike.” I pulled out my water gun.

  “Yeah, hand it over,” Ashwin said, pulling his water pistol out too.

  The two skunks looked at each other over the handlebars of the trike. I swear the big one started to laugh at us.

  “Oh, noooooo,” Buggies said. “They’ve got water guns—better run for it.”

  “All right, Caballero,” Nuts said in a squeaky little voice. “You asked for it.”

  The skunks turned the trike around and grabbed the handlebars tight. They were going to ram straight into Ashwin!

  “Uh-oh,” Ashwin said.

  17.

  The Skirmish

  We both started squirting perfume at the skunks like crazy, but that didn’t do much. Ashwin even got the little one in the face, which had to sting. Nuts squeezed his eyes shut and kept pedaling while Buggies steered.

  “Prepare for impact, Nuts!” said Buggies.

  “Ready as rotting snail-bait, sir!”

  The two skunks picked up a lot of speed. They hunkered down and held on tight, ready for the crash that was coming.

  Ashwin’s eyes bugged out under his skunk-spray-protection goggles, and he tried to pedal out of the way. He wobbled a little and was about to make it when …

  Chhhhunk!

  The trike crashed right into the rusty wheel of Ashwin’s bike. He went down. Really hard. The trike tipped up onto two wheels, but both skunks leaned in and clunked it back down onto the sidewalk. And they just kept pedaling.

  The skunks were getting away again!

  Our weapons were useless. My support was trapped under a heap of orange bicycle, and I didn’t know what to do next. I threw my water gun down and pedaled after the skunks quick as I could. My black trash bag armor flapped in the air.

  The skunks were barely to the next driveway when I caught up to them on Steed. I swerved in front of the trike, and we crashed in a tangle of wheels and handlebars. My bike toppled to the ground. I ripped a new hole in my red sweats, skinning my knee. My old trike was tipped on its side. The skunks had been knocked off like two little bowling pins.

  I did it!

  I totally did it!

  I got them.

  I was laying there under my bike, with my ski
nned knee oozing blood, as Nuts and Buggies hopped up, shook themselves off, and pushed the trike back onto its wheels. Before I had time to blink, they climbed onto the pedals and grabbed the handlebars.

  “See you around, Caballero,” said Nuts.

  They were gonna get away.

  Again.

  Then, in this shivery rustle of branches and blossoms, something exploded out of the hedge next to the sidewalk. It was Mila, in a boots-off-the-ground leap, wearing my old fireman costume. She held her pink butterfly net high over her shoulder.

  Bam! Her black boots cracked down on the sidewalk.

  “Not so fast, you stinkers,” she said. “That’s my trike.”

  Mila smacked the butterfly net down and scooped up Nuts. She swung him through the air and smacked the net down again and scooped up Buggies. He was way too big for her to swing, though, so after Mila slammed the open end of the butterfly net down on the sidewalk, she stood on the handle in her black cowgirl boots.

  I … I could not believe it. Sometimes when Mila wakes me up early in the morning and she’s got her peacock fluff of hair all puffed up in back, I can’t help but smile and be glad to see her—you know, before I really wake up and remember that she’s my little sister and she bugs me. Seeing her jump out of those bushes and swoop up the skunks in her pink net was kind of like waking up. I couldn’t help it. I smiled.

  Ashwin came running up behind me and helped lift Steed off my leg.

  I stayed sprawled on the concrete, smiling at Mila like a goofus.

  “Don’t just sit there, Mateo,” Mila said. “Help me keep these stinkers trapped.”

  Nuts and Buggies were both struggling under the net. Mila wobbled and caught her balance every time the skunks wiggled. Pretty soon they were gonna knock her down too.

  I pushed myself up from the concrete with my elbow and hopped over on one foot, ’cause my knee was still stinging. I stood on the handle of the butterfly net while Mila and Ashwin got down on all fours and held down the net’s edges. Ashwin put his face close, pushing his goggles up to get a better look at Nuts and Buggies.