—Maniac Magee—
by Jerry Spinelli

Chapter 36

 

The deal was, if Russell and Piper went to school for the rest of the week, Maniac would show them the shortcut to Mexico on Saturday. He figured if they all managed to survive till then, he'd come up with something.

On Saturday, the boys had their paper bag packed, and Maniac had a new deal: go to school for another week, and he'd treat them to another large pizza. Besides, he said, crossing his fingers, this was volcano season down in Mexico. The whole place was a sheet of red-hot lava. Better wait till it cools down.

They bought it. And they bought the same deal the following week.

But school was still agony for the boys. It had to be worth more than a pizza a week. But what? The brothers thought and thought about it and soon began to realize that the answer was sleeping between them every night.

Ever since the famous Maniac Magee had showed up at their house, Russell and Piper McNab had become famous in their own right. Other kids were always crowding around, pelting them with questions. What's he like? What's he say? What's he do? Did he really sit on Finsterwald's front steps? Is he really that fast?

Kids started giving them knots --- sneaker laces, yo-yo strings, toys --- and saying, "Ask Maniac to undo this, will ya?" Really little kids referred to him as "Mr. Maniac."

The McNabs ate it up. In the streets, the playgrounds, school. The attention, not the pizza, was the real reason they put up with school each day. They began to feel something they had never felt before. They began to feel important.

What a wonderful thing, this importance. Waiting for them the moment they awoke in the morning, pumping them up like basketballs, giving them bounce. And they hadn't even had to steal it! They loved it. The more they had, the more they wanted.

And so, when Maniac tried to cut the next pizza-for-school deal, Russell answered, "No."

"No?" echoed Maniac, who had been afraid it would come to this.

"No," said Russell. "We want something else."

"Oh," said Maniac. "What's that?"

They told him. If he wanted another week's worth of school out of them, he would have to enter Finsterwald's backyard --- "and stay there for ten minutes!" screeched Piper, who shuddered at the very thought. When Maniac casually answered, "Okay, it's a deal," Piper ran shrieking from the house.

On the next Saturday morning, Russell, Piper, and Maniac set out for Finsterwald's house, about seven blocks away. They took the alleys. Along the way they were joined by other kids, who were waiting, their eyes at once fearful and excited. By the time they got to Finsterwald's backyard, at least fifteen kids huddled against the garage door on the far side of the alley.

Maniac didn't hesitate. He walked straight up to the back gate, opened it, and went in. Not only that, he went all the way to the center of the yard, turned, folded his arms, smiled, and called "Who's keeping time?"

Russell, his throat too dry to speak, raised his hand.

For ten minutes, fifteen kids --- and possibly the universe --- held their breath. The only sounds were inside their heads --- the moaning and wailing of the ghosts of all the poor slobs who had ever blundered onto Finsterwald's property.

To the utter amazement of all, when Russell finally croaked, "Time," Maniac Magee was still there, alive, smiling, apparently unharmed. Even more amazing, he didn't come out. Instead, he said, "Say, you guys, how about adding to the deal? If I do something else while I'm here, will you make it the next two weeks at school?"

"W-watts you g-gonna do?" stammered Russell.

Maniac thought for a minute, then announced brightly, "I'll knock on the front door."

Five kids finsterwallied on the spot. Several others screamed, "No! Don't!" Piper went into some sort of fit and began kicking the garage door. Russell zoned out.

Maniac took all of this to signify a deal. He hopped the backyard fence and strolled around front.

The others went back down the alley and around the long way. They stationed themselves not only across the street but almost halfway up the block. And even then, they squeezed together in a bunch, as though, if they allowed any space between them, Finsterwald might somehow pick them off, one by one.

They huddled, trembling, to bear witness to the last seconds of Maniac Magee's life. They saw him stand directly in front of the red brick, three-story house, the bile-green window shades. They saw him climb the three cement steps to the white door, the portal of death. They saw him raise his hand, and though they were too far away to hear, they saw him knock upon the door, and fifteen hearts beat in time to that silent knocking.

The door opened. Finsterwald's door opened. Not much, but enough so the witnesses could make out a thin strip of blackness. Would Maniac be sucked into that black hole like so much lint into a vacuum cleaner? Would Finsterwald's long, bony hand dart out, quick as a lizard's tongue, and snatch poor Maniac? Maniac appeared to be speaking to the dark crack. Was he pleading for his life? Would his last words be skewered like a marshmallow by Finsterwald's dagger-tipped cane?

Apparently not.

The door closed. Maniac bounded down the steps and came jogging toward them, grinning. Three kids bolted, sure he was a ghost. The others stayed. They invented excuses to touch him, to see if he was still himself, still warm. But they weren't positively certain until later, when they watched him devour a pack of butterscotch Krimpets.