I almost said, "Me?" 'cause I couldn't believe my ears. "And nobody else better get caught swimmin' in it." He gave me that loopy grin again. "This here's my hole," he said when we got to a side pool with tree branches hanging over it and rocks nearly clear around. He tore down to the river, and I tore right after him. Then he waved me along, saying, "C'mon, Rusty. I must have been blinking but good, 'cause he slapped me across the face, whap-whap. You ain't never gonna survive around here with a name like Russell." "Don't stand there looking at me like a load of bricks, boy. I get the same old thing, everywhere I go.īut then he grinned at me the way only Joey Banks could grin, with one side of his face looped way up, and teeth showing everywhere. "Russell Cooper?" he'd asked me, and I'd thought, Oh man. Especially since he was so cool about it the summer we came to live next door. Joey's family moved to Lost River two years before we did, so Pickett Lane was his turf, and that was just fine by me.
And after we'd nicked fingers and mixed blood he'd heave a sigh and say, "You're a true friend, Rusty-boy," and that'd be that. "I swear!" Then he'd put out his fist and we'd go through the ritual, hammering fists and punching knuckles. Lots of pacts, leading up to that last one.
Seems like Joey and me were always making pacts. And there's times that makes me feel good, but there's times it creeps me out. Joey's blood got mixed up in mine the same way mine got mixed up in his.
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