Кэтрин Эпплгейт - Crenshaw

“That’s fair,” my dad said.

“More than fair,” my mom agreed.

“I’m getting older,” I said. “I can handle it.”

“Well, then here’s another fact,” said my dad. “Last night I called the guy who wanted to buy our guitars. He told me his brother owns that music store down by the mall. He needs an assistant manager. His brother also has a garage apartment behind the store that won’t be occupied for a month. It’d give us a roof over our heads for a little while, anyway. Maybe some more work.”

“That’s good, right?” I asked.

“It’s good,” my dad said. “But it’s not a certainty. Here’s the thing, Jackson. Life is messy. It’s complicated. It would be nice if life were always like this.” He drew an imaginary line that kept going up and up. “But life is actually a lot more like this.” He made a jiggly line that went up and down like a mountain range. “You just have to keep trying.”

“What’s that expression?” asked my mom. “Fall down seven times, get up eight?”

“More fortune cookie wisdom,” said my dad. “But it’s true.”

My mom patted my back. “Starting today, we’ll be as honest with you as we can. Is that what you want?”

I looked over at Crenshaw. He nodded.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I want.”

“All right, then,” said my dad. “It’s a deal.”

“Fact,” said my mom. “I’d really like some breakfast. Let’s go see what we can do about that.”

51

The music store looked pretty run-down. We waited in the car while my parents went to talk to the owner. It took a long time. Robin and I played cerealball with her T-ball cap and some sugarless bubble gum.

“You remember those purple jelly beans?” Robin asked.

“The magic ones?”

Robin nodded. “They were maybe not so magic.”

I sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“They were from Kylie’s birthday party.” Robin pulled on her ponytail. “I just wanted you to think they were magic. But there’s no such thing. Of course.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Could be magic happens sometimes.”

“Really?” Robin asked.

“Really,” I said.

When my parents came out of the store, they were smiling. They shook a man’s hand, and he gave my dad a set of keys.

“Got the job,” my dad said. “It’s part-time, but with everything else, it should help. And we can stay in that apartment for a month, anyway. Hopefully by then we’ll have come up with yet another plan. We really want to keep you and Robin at the same school. We’re going to do our best, but there are no guarantees.”

“I know,” I said, and even though it didn’t solve all our problems, I felt a little better.

The garage apartment was tiny, with only one bedroom. There was no TV, and the carpeting was a weary beige.

Still. It had a roof and a door and a family who needed it.

52

The article I read about imaginary friends said they often appear during times of stress. It said that as kids mature, they tend to outgrow their pretend world.

But Crenshaw told me something else.

He said imaginary friends never leave. He said they were on call. Just waiting, in case they were needed.

I said that sounded like a lot of waiting around, and he said he didn’t mind. It was his job.

The first night in our new apartment, I slept on a chair in the living room. I woke up in the middle of the night. Everyone else was sleeping soundly.

As I headed to the bathroom to get a drink, I was surprised when I heard the water running. I knocked, and when no one answered, I opened the door a crack.

Bubbles floated and danced. Steam billowed. But through the mist I could make out Crenshaw in the shower, fashioning a bubble beard.

“Do you have any purple jelly beans?” he asked.

Before I could answer, I felt my dad’s hand on my shoulder. “Jackson? You okay?”

I turned and hugged him hard. “I love you,” I said. “And that’s a fact.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered.

I smiled, recalling the question I’d been meaning to ask. “Dad,” I said, “have you ever known anyone by the name of Finian?”

“Did you say Finian ?” he asked with a faraway look in his eyes.

I closed the bathroom door, and as I did, I caught another glimpse of Crenshaw. He was standing on his head. His tail was covered with bubbles.

I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to ten. Slowly.

Ten seconds seemed like the right amount of time for me to be sure he wasn’t going to leave.

When I opened my eyes, Crenshaw was still there.

There had to be a logical explanation.

There’s always a logical explanation.

Meantime, I was going to enjoy the magic while I could.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My heartfelt thanks to

• The Feiwel and Friends pantheon: Rich Deas, Liz Dresner, Nicole Moulaison, and Mary Van Akin for their patience and breathtaking talents; Liz Szabla for her TLC, remarkable insights, and gracious good humor; Angus Killick for his leadership and enthusiasm; and Jean Feiwel for just about everything;

• Elena Giovinazzo, agent extraordinaire, at Pippin Properties, Inc., for her guidance and friendship;

• Artist Erwin Madrid for bringing Crenshaw to life;

• The amazing students and staff of the Monarch School in San Diego, California, a unique campus for students affected by homelessness, for sharing their stories;

• My friends and family for pretending not to notice my long chats with an imaginary cat;

• Jake and Julia for tolerating the “don’t bug me while I’m writing unless you’re bleeding” mandate;

• and Michael, for asking to borrow that can opener so many years ago.

Thank you for reading this FEIWEL AND FRIENDSbook.

The friends who made

Crenshaw

possible are:

JEAN FEIWEL,Publisher

LIZ SZABLA,Editor in Chief

RICH DEAS,Senior Creative Director

HOLLY WEST,Associate Editor

DAVE BARRETT,Executive Managing Editor

NICOLE LIEBOWITZ MOULAISON,Senior Production Manager

ANNA ROBERTO,Associate Editor

CHRISTINE BARCELLONA,Associate Editor

EMILY SETTLE,Administrative Assistant

ANNA POON,Editorial Assistant

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OUR BOOKS ARE FRIENDS FOR LIFE.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Katherine Applegateis the author of the bestselling Animorphs series, and the novels Home of the Brave and The One and Only Ivan , winner of the 2013 Newbery Medal. She lives with her husband, author Michael Grant, and their two children in Northern California. You can sign up for email updates here.

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