Chapter 21

chapter twenty-one Big Mama is dead. And for some dumb reason, my brain can't stop imagining us holding a Big Mama funeral. I'd say some pretty moving stuff, for sure— have everyone reaching for their handkerchiefs.... for five and a half adventures? She was a wonderful, trusty ride. I still remember the first time I almost ran over Dirk

I laugh softly to myself—thinking about a funeral for a truck. But then I'm thinking about Bardle. And realizing the loss of Big Mama is our second loss in way too short a time. As the skeletons and Death Fossil continue to pound away at the walls, Quint and June make their way toward the hanging tarps. I hop up on Big Mama's hood and lie back. Hands behind my head, I look up at the night sky through the glass dome. Dirk joins me. "It's a pretty moon tonight," I say. Then, solemnly: "You think we'll live to see it again?" Dirk's silent. Until suddenly, he sits up. "Wait a sec..." he starts. "That's no moon." "Huh?" I ask. Dirk doesn't respond—he's busy scrambling up onto Big Mama's roof. "Hey, don't go being all Tomb Raider–y without me!" I say, following him. Behind us, I hear Quint say something like, "Hey, June—have a look at this...." I don't look back to see what they're doing— I'm way too curious about Dirk's "that's no moon" comment. The little bit of extra height

makes all the difference: I squint, and—wow. Dirk's right. It's not the moon. It's something else entirely. It's something good. Something right. Something that feels like hope, like a chance. "It's the World's Largest Donut Hole!" I exclaim. "What Werbert called 'The Big Round Sweet Treat'!"

"You bet it is!" Dirk says. "And it's close! So much closer than I thought!" Suddenly, Dirk is laughing. He's hysterical. Laughing so hard he has to sit down. "You finally losing it, buddy?" I ask. "What's so funny?" "The Donut Hole," he says. "It's SO dumb. A plastic ball on a stick. But... I never would

have gotten to see it without you guys...." "That's not true," I say. "You and your dad would have gone. Eventually." Dirk shakes his head. The look on his face gives me déjà vu; it reminds me of when I found him in the tree house, after he was bitten by Evie's zombie. "What is it, dude?" I ask. "We wouldn't have gone," he says finally. "He was never going to take me. It was just another lie. Empty promise. Like all the others. Y'know?" I don't respond. Because I don't "know"— not really. And what Dirk's saying is too big and too heavy for me to just agree. So I stay silent. Dirk continues. "He didn't test poison for the army. He wasn't the Big Dagger on Universal Warriors—not really. He was a reserve; got on TV one time. He wasn't on the Pittsburgh Steelers practice squad. He didn't catch a great white shark with a speargun two different times. All lies. And I always knew they were lies." "I don't understand," I say. "If you knew—"

"'Cause I wanted to believe them—because if he wasn't lying about that, then maybe he wasn't lying about a million other things. Like, well, doing our road trip someday." I nod. Even though I never had a real dad, I get what Dirk's saying. And all this talk of dads and donut holes has me remembering Bardle. I think Dirk can tell. "I wish your dad could have seen it," I say. Dirk lightly kicks my sneaker. "Bardle, too." "Ah-ahem!" June fake coughs. Poorly. Dirk and I look up. June's next to Quint, who's peeking out from under a tarp that covers the entrance to another hall. "Uh, did you hear all of that?" Dirk asks. "Indeed," Quint says. "And we love you, ya big lug head," June adds. Dirk smiles. It's sweet but awkward—like eating a Charleston Chew in the dentist's chair. Quint, being Quint, ends the silence. "Anyone want to see a few hundred ancient swords?" "Um, yes, please," I say, leaping down from