Al Capone Throws Me a Curve by Gennifer Choldenko

Author:Gennifer Choldenko [Choldenko, Gennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Random House Children's Books
Published: 2018-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

Saturday, May 30, 1936

Bo Bomini, my mom, Natalie, and me are shoehorned in the tiny dock office. Bomini and my mom are sitting on the two squeaky seats. Natalie is standing by the wall, her arms wrapped around herself. I’m in the two inches of floor between Natalie and the desk.

My mom stares at me. “Why in the name of Mary and Joseph would you touch your father’s gun?”

What do I say? What kind of person snitches on a sister like Natalie? She brought the gun for me. She wanted to help me get on the team.

My lips press shut.

“Word is, this had something to do with the high school baseball team,” Officer Bomini says. Bo Bomini has always liked me. I don’t want him to think I did something this bad. He’ll tell Annie, and what will she think?

My mom’s eyes drill into me. “Is that true?”

“I want to be on the team,” I mumble. This doesn’t answer the question, but it’s all I can think to say.

“As if we don’t have enough problems, Moose.” Her voice trembles.

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to write this up. With the strike, the BOP is watching everything we do. The warden wants to handle this himself, but he and the missus had a party to go to tonight. Gonna talk to you about it tomorrow. Probably better if Cam’s around for that,” Bo Bomini says.

“Of course,” Mom says. “We appreciate your help, Bo.”

Bomini’s chair squeaks when he gets up. He pushes it out of the way and holds the door open with his back. My mom and I file out.

“No,” Natalie says. “No, no, no.” She rocks from foot to foot, unwilling to move forward.

She knows something isn’t right.

“Let’s go home, Nat,” our mom says. But Nat won’t budge.

I walk back in. “Nat, I know it doesn’t exactly make sense, but it’s better this way,” I tell her as gently as I can.

She makes a grimace like she’s taken a bite of horseradish. But she still doesn’t move.

“You have to trust me on this,” I whisper.

“Trust me on this,” she repeats, following me out.

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