first time that night she was looking at me。 It was that
look； too； channeled directly and solely at me。 She says； “I'm sorry I was so angry when we
first came in。 Everyone had a good time； and I think your
mom's really nice for inviting us。”
Her voice ost a whisper。 I just stood there like a moron； staring at her。
“Bryce？” she says； touching my arm again。 “Did you hear me？ I'm sorry。”
I managed a nod； but my arm was tingling； and my heart was pounding； and I felt myself
pulling toward her。
Then she was gone。 Out the door and into the night； part of a chorus of happy good…byes。 I
tried to catch my breath。 What was that？ What was
wrong with me？
My mother closed the door and said； “There。 Now what did I tell you？ That is one delightful
family！ Those boys are nothing like I expected。 Lyta；
why didn't you tell me they were so…so charming！”
“They're drug dealers is what they are。”
Everyone turned to my father and dropped their jaws。
“What？” my mother said。
“There is no other way those boys could afford to buy recording gear like that。” He glared at
Lyta。 “Isn't that so？”
Lyta's eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of her head。
“Rick； please！” my mother said。 “You can't just make accusations like that！”
“It's the only thing that makes sense； Patsy。 Believe me； I know how musicians are。 There is
no other explanation for this。”
Lyta shouted； “I happen to know for a fact that they don't use or deal。 Where do you get
off saying something like that？ You are such a twofaced；
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condescending； narrow…minded jackass！”
There was a split second of silence； and then he slapped her； smack； right across the cheek。
That put my mother in his face like I'd never seen and sent my sister screaming insults over
her shoulder as she ran down to her room。
My heart was pounding。 Lyta was right and I almost； almost got in his face； too； and told
him so。 But then my granddad pulled me aside and
we both retreated to our own little corners of the house。
Pacing around my room； I had the urge to go talk to Lyta。 To tell her that she was right；
that Dad was way out of line。 But I could hear her
through the walls； crying and screaming while my mom tried to calm her down。 Then she
stormed out of the house to who…knows…where； and my
mom took up with my dad again。
So I stayed put。 And even though the earth quit quaking around eleven o'clock； there were
tremors out there。 I could feel them。
As I lay in my bed staring out the window at the sky； I thought about how my dad had always
looked down on the Bakers。 How he'd put down their
house and their yard and their cars and what they did for a living。 How he'd called them trash
and made fun of Mr。 Baker's paintings。
And now I was seeing that there was something really cool about that family。 All of them。
They were just…real。
And who were we？ There was something spinning wickedly out of control inside this house。
It was like seeing inside the Bakers' world had
opened up windows into our own； and the view was not a pretty one。
Where had all this stuff e from？
And why hadn't I ever seen it before。
The Dinner
By the time I got home； I knew it would be selfish of me to boycott the Loskis' dinner party。
My mother had already spent a lot of time humming over
pie recipes and going through her closet for “something suitable to wear。” She'd even bought
a new shirt for Dad and had scrutinized what the boys
intended to wear。 Obviously she was looking forward to the dinner— not that I really
understood that； but I didn't want to ruin everything by telling her
about my newfound hatred of Bryce。
And Dad felt bad enough about David already。 The last thing he needed was to hear about
crackpot ments made by immature eighth
graders。
So that night I went through the motions of baking pies with my mother and convinced myself
that I was doing the right thing。 One dinner couldn't
change anyone's life。 I just had to get through it。
Friday at school I avoided the blue…eyed brat the best I could； but that night as I got dressed；
I found myself staring at the painting my father had
given me and became furious all over again。 Bryce had never been a friend to me； ever！ He
hadn't made a stand for the tree； he'd thrown away my
eggs； and he'd made fun of me at my uncle's expense…。 Why was I playing along like we
were jolly friends and neighbors？
When my mother called that it was time to go； I went out in the hall with every intention of
telling her that I would not； could not go to the Loskis' for
dinner； but she looked so lovely and happy that I couldn't。 I just couldn't。 I took a deep breath；
wrapped up a pie； and shuffled across the street
behind my brothers and parents。
Chet answered the door。 Maybe I should've been mad at him； too； for telling the Loskis about
my uncle； but I wasn't。 I hadn't asked him not to tell；
and he certainly wasn't the one making fun of David。
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Mrs。 Loski came up behind Chet； whisked us in； and fluttered about。 And even though she
had quite a bit of makeup on； I was surprised to see
the blueness of bags beneath her eyes。 Then Mrs。 Loski and my mother went off with the
pies； my brothers vanished down the hall with Lyta； and
my father followed Chet into the living room。
And wasn't that just dandy？ That left me alone in the foyer with Bryce。
He said hi to me and I lost it。 I spun on him； snapping； “Don't you speak to me！ I overheard
you and Garrett in the library； and I don't want to talk to
you now or ever！”
I started to walk into the living room； but he stopped me。 “Juli！ Juli； wait！” he whispered。 “I'm
not the bad guy here！ That was Garrett。 That was all
Garrett！”
I glared at him。 “I know what I heard。”
“No！ No you don't！ I …I was feeling bad about； you know； the eggs and what I'd said about
your yard。 I didn't know anything about your uncle or
what kind of situation your family was in； okay？ I just wanted to talk to someone about it。”
Our eyes locked for a minute； and for the first time the blueness of his didn't freeze up my
brain。 “I heard you laugh。 He made a joke about me
being a retard； and you laughed。”
“Juli； you don't understand。 I wanted to punch him！ Really； I did！ But we were in the library…。”
“So instead you laughed。”
He shrugged and looked miserable and sheepish。 “Yeah。”
I left him。 Just walked into the living room and left him。 If he was making it up； he was quite
an actor。 If he was telling the truth； then Chet was right
—he was a coward。 Either way； I didn't want to be anywhere near him。
I stood beside my father and tried to follow his discussion with Chet about something they'd
both read in the paper。 My father was saying； “But
what he's proposing otion machine； so it's not possible。”
Chet replied； “Maybe in the context of what scientists know now； but do you rule it out
pletely？”
At that moment I was feeling absolutely no scientific curiosity。 But in a desperate attempt to
block Bryce Loski from my mind； I asked； “What's a
perpetual…motion machine？”
My father and Chet glanced at each other； chuckled； then shrugged； giving me the sense
that they'd just agreed to let me into a secret club。 My
father explained； “It's a machine that runs without any external power source。”
“No electricity； no fuel； no water propulsion； nothing。” Chet glanced over my shoulder and
asked rather absently； “You think that's a doable thing？”
What had distracted him？ Was Bryce still in the foyer？ Why didn't he just go away？
I forced myself to focus on the conversation。 “Do I think that's a doable thing？ Well； I don't
really know。 All machines use energy； right？ Even real
efficient ones。 And that energy has to e from somewhere…。”
“What if the machine generated it itself？” Chet asked； but one eye was still on the foyer。
“How could it do that？”
Neither of them answered me。 Instead； my father stuck out his hand and said； “Good evening；
Rick。 Nice of you to have us over。”
Mr。 Loski pumped my dad's hand and joined our group； making little ments about the
weather。 When that topic was all dried up； he said；
“And wow； that yard of yours has really e along。 I told Chet here that we ought to hire
him out。 He really knows his pickets； doesn't he？”
He was joking。 I think。 But my father didn't take it that way； and neither did Chet。 I was afraid
of what might happen next； but then Mrs。 Loski
tinkled a little dinner bell and called； “Hors d'oeuvres； everybody！”
The hors d'oeuvres were delicious。 But when my father whispered that the teeny…tiny black
berries on top of the crackers weren't berries at all； but
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caviar； I stopped midbite。 Fish eggs？ Repulsive！
Then my father pointed out that I ate chicken eggs all the time； so ish over
fish eggs？ He had a point。 I hesitantly finished the
cracker； and before long I was having another。
Bryce was standing all by himself across the room； and every time I happened to look his
way； he was staring at me。
Finally I pletely turned my back on him and said to my father； “So who's trying to invent a
perpetual…motion machine； anyway？”
My father laughed。 “Mad scientists all over the world。”
“Really？”
“Yes。 For hundreds of years。”
“Well； what do they do？ What's one look like？”
It wasn't long before Chet was in on the discussion。 And just as I was finally starting to catch
on to magism； gyroscopic particles； and zeropoint
energy； I felt someone standing behind me。
It was Bryce。
I could feel my cheeks flush with anger。 Couldn't he see I wanted to be left alone？ I took a
step away from him； but what that did was open up the
group and al