"Nothing. I can't talk about it." He looked over at Doug's house. "It's just . . . you can't take the kids with you, can you?"

"And what? Sneak them into Canada in our suitcases?"

He shrugged.

"It's not like I haven't considered it," I said. "But don't you think I have enough responsibility right now just trying to get my grandparents back home with me?"

"Yeah. Never mind."

"Is Doug in some sort of trouble?" I asked.

"I gotta go."

I reached out and touched his arm. "Spill. Seriously. You can tell me."

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped himself. Instead, he reached up and covered my hand with his. "Molly," he said, "it's too late for Doug. Just . . . just try not to take on his problems too, okay?"

I scowled. "After yesterday," I said, "you don't have to worry about me trying to help him."

He squeezed my hand. "I know," he said. "But he's in over his head this time, and he might try to . . . I don't know . . . play you for sympathy. Stay clear of him or he'll take you all down with him."

25.

I FOUND GRANDPA IN THE GARAGE, LOCKING THE doors of a big metal cabinet.

"The whiskey's in there," he said. "I don't want Doug to find it."

I didn't tell Grandpa that Doug had left me to fend for myself at the market. We still had to live next door to him, and I was afraid how Grandpa might react if he knew.

"I'm sorry I took the whiskey without asking," I said.

He shrugged. "You meant well. I didn't realize we still had any, though, or I would've sold it. Your grandma is the whiskey drinker in the family, and I never even thought to look."

"Lucky for us, then," I said.

He put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed. "I guess so."

We were on our way inside when I noticed the car was covered in a thick layer of dust.

"Guess I've been keeping you busy, eh?" I said.

He ran a finger over it, leaving a streak. "I guess so. It doesn't seem so important anymore. Hey, get in. I'll teach you to drive."

I laughed, but he was serious, so I climbed in the driver's side. Grandpa went around to the other door and slid in onto the bench seat.

"So the first thing you do," he said, pointing to a pedal, "is pump the gas five or six times."

"It's electric," I reminded him.

"We're going back to nineteen fifty-nine," he said.

"Oh, okay." I pumped the pedal a couple of times.

"Then you start the ignition."

I pretended to turn the key. "Vroom, vroom!" I said, imitating cars from the movies.

"Don't flood it," he said seriously.

"What?"

"Never mind. It was a joke. Okay, so now what you do is check your rearview mirror to make sure nothing's behind you."

"You mean like the garage door?"

He laughed. Using both hands, I made a big show of adjusting the rearview mirror. Then I pursed my lips at my reflection, like I was checking my makeup.

"Oh, yes, quite the glamour girl," he said. "Now, this is an automatic, so you just pull the gearshift in towards you and then slide it all the way over to R R for reverse." for reverse."

I started to pull on the handle and he stopped me. "You can't really do it, Molly. We're playing."

"Oh, right."

Grandpa walked me through pretending to back up, then shifting to D D for drive, and then we were out on the open road. "Canada, here we come!" I yelled. for drive, and then we were out on the open road. "Canada, here we come!" I yelled.

"B.C. or bust!" Grandpa shouted.

Maybe he was more excited about seeing my mom than he'd let on. We rolled down our windows, and I hung my left arm out. "Ahhhh, the wind's in my hair. . . ."

"Smell that sea breeze," Grandpa chimed in.

"Farmland and mountains are flying by!" I shouted.

"Watch out for those cows!" Grandpa yelled, laughing.

I laid on the horn, and it surprised us both by blasting out loud and clear. Not thirty seconds later, the door leading into the house opened and Brandy, Michael, and Grandma stood there looking at us like we were totally nuts.

"Get in!" I called to them.

The kids ran across the garage, with Grandma right behind them. They all climbed into the backseat, slamming the doors, yelling, and laughing.

"Molly's a crazy driver," Grandpa said. "She almost ran over a whole herd of cows."

We were still goofing around fifteen minutes later when we heard a thud against the garage door behind us. For a second, I thought the car had somehow slipped into gear and we'd rolled back.

"What the h.e.l.l was that?" Grandpa asked.

We all scrambled out of the car and ran through the house to the front door and out into the yard. I was the first to round the corner into the driveway. Doug sat slumped on the ground, leaning against the house as if he'd slid down it.

When he saw me, he mustered up a wan smile. "Hey, Mol. Is the doctor in?"

And then he pa.s.sed out.

26.

HE WASN'T UNCONSCIOUS FOR LONG, AND GRANDPA and I managed to get him on his feet while Grandma took the kids into the kitchen. At first, we thought he was drunk, but the way he howled when we tried to help him stand made us realize he was injured.

"Owww! My ribs, my ribs!" he shouted. "Don't touch my arm, either!"

In the end, we let him shuffle along, and we walked on either side to make sure he didn't fall. We took him into the master bedroom and eased him onto the edge of my grandparents' bed. Then we cut his T-shirt off because he couldn't raise his left arm more than an inch or two. I gasped when Grandpa peeled the cloth away and exposed skin that was already turning an ugly shade of purple.

"What happened?" I asked.

Grandpa had gotten his doctor's bag out of the closet and was listening to Doug's heart.

"Fight," Doug said.

"Fight or beating?" Grandpa asked.

"What's the difference?" he mumbled.

Grandpa gave him a long look I didn't understand and then he poked and prodded at Doug for a while, not saying much except "Does this hurt?" which Doug usually answered with "h.e.l.l, yes!"

"Take a deep breath," Grandpa told him. "Any trouble getting air?"

"Not really."

"I don't think it's too serious," Grandpa finally said. "Your vital signs are strong. The main thing to worry about is a punctured lung, but your breathing seems okay, so I think you've only bruised or cracked a couple of ribs."

"What about my arm?"

"A bad sprain. Did you get hit in the head at all?" He shone a tiny light in Doug's eyes.

"I don't think so."

"Good. Well, there's no sign of a concussion."

"Don't you think he should go to a hospital?" I asked.

"Like I could pay for that," Doug said.

"They won't do anything for broken ribs," Grandpa told us. "They'll just tell you to rest, Doug, so I'll leave you to it."

Grandpa took my arm and led me out into the hallway. "Molly, I don't like this at all."

"Me either," I said. "I don't want to take care of him." I knew I sounded mean, but after Doug had abandoned me at the market, the last thing I wanted was to be his nursemaid.

"What I mean," Grandpa said, "is Doug is bad news. It's not safe for us to have him in this house. We need to get him on his feet as soon as possible."

"What do you mean it's not safe?" I asked.

"Doug wasn't in any fight," Grandpa said. "This was a warning from the Organization."

"What do you mean?"

In the living room Grandpa sat down heavily in the swivel chair.

"Are you dating this Spill fellow?" he asked.

"What? Of course not," I said. I sat down on the couch and looked at him like he was crazy. "Have you noticed me going out on any dates?"

"Well, you could be sneaking out at night."

"I'm way too tired at night," I said.

"Yeah. . . ." He took off his gla.s.ses and cleaned them on his shirt, even though they were sparkling already. "That's what I thought. That's why I wasn't too worried about you being friends with him even though he works for the Organization, but this is different."

"What does Spill have to do with Doug?" I asked.

Grandpa sighed. "Hopefully, nothing. But I'm guessing Doug owes on gambling debts and what the Organization did today," he said, "this was just a reminder that they want their money. If they'd been serious, we probably never would've seen him again."

"Are you kidding?" I asked. "You mean he owed money so they beat him up?"

Grandpa nodded.

"What happens if he can't pay?" I asked. "You think they'll do worse?"

"I'm afraid this is just the beginning."

Spill's words about not letting Doug drag us down with him replayed in my mind, and I knew Grandpa was right. We had to get him out of this house. "Do you think the two of us can move him now?" I asked.

Grandpa shook his head. "It would be pretty painful for him and difficult for us, but there is one thing that might work," he said, and I swear he looked a little excited.