Free Jack on the Tracks by Jack Gantos Page B

Tack said. “I’m not going out there to become another murder victim.”
    “You got any good candy?” I asked.
    “Naw,” Tack replied. “The new mom is so cheap she’s only handing out stale popcorn balls, and the old mom just gives away rotting fruit she gets cheap at the grocery store.”
    I stuck out my tongue. “Ugh,” I said. “Come on, Miss Kitty II.” We headed home.
           Pete was dressed up as a plague-ridden flea. He had a floppy rubber mask covered with pussy boils. As soon as he saw Miss Kitty II he began to chase her around. “I’m a flea,” he said in a Count Dracula accent. “I vant to suck your blood.” Miss Kitty II jumped up on top of the refrigerator and hissed down at him.
    “Hey, Dad,” I said as he came in from the costume rental company. “Did you hear about the escaped convicts!”
    “Shush,” he said with a finger over his lips. He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t let your mom know. Betsy knows, and you can tell Pete after we leave. The last thing some convicts are going to do is hide out in a house full of kids. You’ll be perfectly safe. Just keep the doors locked and the lights on.”
    He pulled out a two-part horse costume. “I got to the costume shop a bit late,” he said, not at all happy. “They only had two-parters left. I got the horse, and I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts your mom is going to make me be the rear. But it could have been worse. The guy behind me had to rent the giraffe. Can you imagine, he’ll have to carry his wife on his shoulders all night long.” He smiled at the thought. “Now remember, don’t go telling your mother about the escapees, or she won’t go and the whole evening I’ll have to sit around as a horse’s rear end.”
    “Okay,” I said.
    But it was hard to keep my mouth shut. Each time Mom passed through the room I wanted to blurt out, “Escaped convicts are on the loose!” I knew Dad would kill me if I spilled the beans, so I went outside to the carport to fix my bike. The chain had come off the day before. We had been playing bicycle-horse polo. We didn’t have horses or the right equipment so we used our bicycles and croquet mallets and one of the solid wooden balls. It was a good game unless you got hit with the ball, which hurt like something shot out of a pirate’s cannon. That is what happened to my chain. Jock hit a low line drive right at me. I lifted my foot and the ball hit the chain and knocked it off the sprocket. Right after, Mom called me in for dinner, so I hadn’t put the chain back on.
    I was just threading it back onto the sprocket when Mom and Dad stepped out of the house.
    “Have fun,” Mom said, with the giant horse head under her arm. “Be extra nice to the little kids and don’t eat too much candy or you’ll never get to sleep.”
    “Sure,” I replied as Dad jogged over toward me.
    “Remember,” he whispered, “keep the doors locked and don’t open them no matter what.”
    “Don’t worry,” I whispered back, “we’re not stupid.”
    He grunted and gave me a little swat with his tail.
    As soon as the car left the driveway Betsy broke the news to Pete that Halloween was canceled.
    “No big deal,” he said. “Now we can split all our giveaway candy three ways.”
    After eating about a pound of chocolate bars I got so hyper from the sugar I dashed from window to window looking to find the escapees creeping through the bushes. Everyone had their porch lights on, but all the pumpkins were unlit. I plugged the TV back in just in case it fixed itself, but it only started to crackle again and smell like burnt rubber so I pulled the plug.
    Finally Betsy came up to me. “I just ordered the pizzas,” she said. “And I had them make up an extra-large Hawaiian puke pie just for you.”
    “That’s really nice,” I replied. I couldn’t believe she actually ordered it for me.
    “There is only one catch,” she said, crossing her arms.
    “What?” I asked.
    “You have to go