Free Sammy Keyes and the Cold Hard Cash by Wendelin Van Draanen

hopping curbs. It was like a high-speed obstacle course where I could crash and burn at any time. No puzzling thoughts, no worries, no Mikey…just the wind in my face and the rush of ball bearings battling it out with gravity.
    I made it down the hill in one shaky piece, then cruised along catching my breath. And as I approached Cypress Street, I decided to make a quick stop at Hudson’s to apologize for subjecting him to Mikey-The-Whiner-McKenze.
    Hudson was still on the porch, or
back
on the porch—who knows? Shoot, he’d had enough time to mow the yard, wash the windows,
and
take a nap.
    Anyway, his yellow boots were propped up on the rail and he was reading the newspaper, but the minute he saw me coming up his walkway, he closed the paper and sat up. “Say! I’m glad you came back.”
    I grabbed my board and went up the steps. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for bringing Mikey over. Marissa’s parents let their nanny go, so Marissa’s stuck with him all day ’cause she’s home for summer and her parents are still going off to work. Nobody can handle him. He’s just…impossible.” Then I nodded at the newspaper and tried to be real casual as I said, “What’s going on in the news? Robberies? Murders? Burglaries?”
    He shook his head. “Not a thing.” He smiled at me. “Let’s hope the trend continues, right?”
    I laughed. “Right!”
    He put the paper aside. “Interesting you should come back,” he said. “I’ve been thinking.”
    I plopped down in the chair next to him. “Yeah?”
    “It seems to me that Mike could benefit from some structure. Some discipline.” He eyed me. “And some better eating habits.” He poured me a glass of tea and handed it over. “From the bits and pieces you’ve told me, I have the impression that the parents aren’t around much…. Is that right?”
    “They’re
never
around. Even when they are, they’re not.”
    “Hmm,” he said, and then just sat there for the longest time.
    “What?” I finally asked, because I could tell he was thinking
some
thing.
    “How do you think they would feel about having Mike come here during the day for the rest of the summer?”
    “Come
here
?” I snorted. “Marissa would love that, but you’re crazy! You saw him—Mikey’s a nightmare!”
    Hudson gave a wily smile. “He’d be just fine.”
    “But…I don’t get it.
Why?
”
    He gave a little shrug. “It’s been pretty quiet around here since Rommel passed.” He laced his fingers together across his stomach. “And the way I see it, it won’t be long before it’s too late to help Mike. Now…well, I believe I could turn him around.”
    I blinked at him a minute. “Turn him around? Do you have any idea what that’s gonna take? He needs boot camp or something.”
    Hudson nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
    I sat up straighter. “Mm-hmm? So it’d be like Hudson’s Boot Camp?”
    Hudson threw back his head and laughed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I like the double entendre. Although it would be more of a day camp than a boot camp.” He chuckled. “But maybe I’ll buy him a pair of boots at the end of it.”
    “So…you’re really serious?”
    He took a deep breath, then smoothed back one of his bushy white eyebrows. “It’s probably more up to them than me. They may be insulted, or they may be uncomfortable with the idea. I couldn’t blame them on either account, but yes, I think I’ll make the offer.”
    We talked about it some more, and I wound up giving Hudson the McKenzes’ phone number. And the whole way home I just kind of shook my head in amazement at Hudson, thinking about what a cool guy he is. What a
good
guy he is. I mean, come on, who in the world voluntarily takes on Mikey McKenze?
    And thinking about all that got me thinking how Hudson had been a rock-solid friend to me since day one. He was always helping me out. Always helping me
figure
things out. Maybe it was about time I did something for
him.
    The more I thought about it, the