Chapter 14

“I fixed it all up.” My younger self pushed the secondhand skateboard back across the Pirates of the Caribbean themed table. Instead of Brute or my alleged telltale trash aroma, my memory brought to mind the smell of the paper tablecloth, the kind that always reminded me of special occasions. The Junks had never been into fine linens. Even before Mom died, we usually got one of those “fancy” disposable paper tablecloths with matching napkins for birthdays, Christmas, and Thanksgiving, too, with either turkeys or fruit filled cornucopias on them.

“It rides better,” I told Mickey. “The wheels were all crooked. Now, they’re not. Wanda obviously didn’t ride it right or take care of it.” I guess I told her.

“No thanks.” Despite that, Mickey shoved it away again.

“Okay. I’ll keep it, then, so we can ride together.”