This Journal Belongs to Ratchet (15 page)

Summary of newspaper article “Park Lovers Lose
—
Moss Tree Park's Last Day”

The decision is final. Moss Tree Park will be leveled. No more trees. No more grass. Loads of dirt will get dumped into the pond. And the swings, monkey bars, and slides will be taken down. After that, they'll pour lots of concrete over the whole thing to make a parking lot for the strip mall. Then they'll start building. Lots of people would rather have a park than a mall, but the people who want the mall wear suits and are more important. So they win.

If I could change

Some things

I'd start with

Having a different mom.

But instead I'll

Like Dad more

And love him enough

So that he'll know

That Mom made a mistake

When she left.

If I could change

Some things

I'd be one of the

Important people,

And I'd make Dad

One too.

And we'd save the park

Together.

But instead I'll

Ask Hunter's mom

To teach me how to

Make cookies,

And I'll make a whole bunch

For Dad

So he'll smile

And maybe forget

for a few minutes

That we lost the park

And Mom.

Dad was down the street helping someone whose car wouldn't start. I was changing the spark plugs on an SUV when Hunter came over. He was bummed out about Moss Tree Park just like Dad and I were.

After I finished the SUV, Hunter and I sat on the garage step. Dad's oldies station played in the background. When “Fun, Fun, Fun” by the Beach Boys came on, I got up and switched it off.

“Hey,” Hunter said. “I like that song.”

“Well, there's nothing fun about losing Moss Tree Park.”

As we sat together in the quiet garage, I realized how close Hunter was sitting. I wondered if he realized it too, but before I had time to find out, Hunter stood up and walked over to Dad's workbench.

“Maybe there is some fun,” he said as he picked up a screwdriver and held it like a microphone. “And so we can't have fun now that Prindle took the town's park away,” Hunter sang to the tune of “Fun, Fun, Fun.”

We spent the next hour coming up with goofy lyrics for some of our favorite oldies songs. Then we spent the
next
hour after that singing them at the top of our lungs.

Here's one of our favorites:

(To the tune of “Fun, Fun, Fun” by the Beach Boys)

Well, we cleaned up the trash and hoped we could help save the park now.

Mr. Moss wanted trees not a mall and a gray parking lot now.

But Dad lost his fight, and the park and the trees will be gone now,

And so we can't have fun now that Prindle took the town's park away.

And so we can't have fun now that Prindle took the town's park away.

Well, we'll all take our cars and we'll cruise them all over the town now.

And we'll trail Eddie J. and Prindle wherever they go now.

We'll keep it all up till they wish we'd just all go away now.

And so we'll have some fun now that Prindle took the town's park away.

And so we'll have some fun now that Prindle took the town's park away.

Our song wouldn't save the park, but having a friend like Hunter sure felt like it was helping to save me.

The next day Dad left a piece of paper on the kitchen table.

So I asked Dad why he was selling the Mustang. Ever since I could remember, he always said he had big plans for that car.

“Just time to get rid of it,” he said, but I didn't believe him. I knew he'd never get rid of that car unless he had to.

That's why when I found the letter on the counter under the sugar bowl, I knew Dad had stretched the truth again.

Now I understood why it was “just time” to get rid of the Mustang, and the heaviness that pressed down on me every day just got heavier. This was all my fault. Dad couldn't pick up garbage because of his hand, and his hand had been hurt because of me.

Dad already lost Mom.

He was losing the park.

And now because of me he was losing the Mustang.

Today I had a great idea. Hunter and I could go to the library and find out more about Herman Moss. If we could find a way to prove he never wanted Moss Tree Park developed, we could save the park.

Dad had already searched for this at the library, but maybe there was something he missed, and maybe Hunter and I could find it.

Then we'd be able to save the park for Dad, and my heaviness might get a little bit lighter.

If only there had been a way to save Mom.

There was a letter on the kitchen table. Dad must've left it there while I was in the shower. It was a stamped letter addressed to me, which meant it came in the mail. How could that be? Who would write me a letter? I turned it over and read the return address on the flap of the envelope. The Blainesfield Beacon. The newspaper? Why would I get a letter from the newspaper?

I opened it and read:

An essay about a crazy guy and his daughter defending a park that's going to be developed? Why would Hunter think it was a good idea to have this published in The Blainesfield Beacon? Just to make sure everyone sees Dad's latest failure? Dad was already enough of a joke in this town. And now my essay would make it worse. Did we really need this?

“Forget it,”

Is what I said when Hunter came over to go to the library with me.

“How could you?!”

Is what I asked when I showed him the letter from The Blainesfield Beacon.

“Good-bye,”

Is what I said after he finished trying to explain why he had done it.

If having a friend means

Having someone butt into your life

And take your stuff

And do something with it

You never wanted them to do

Without even telling you,

I guess it's a good thing

I've
never
had a friend.

Mom left

And didn't tell me.

Dad knew the truth

And didn't tell me.

Hunter did something

Behind my back

And didn't tell me.

The mayor and Eddie J. have probably done something

Behind everyone's back

And didn't tell anyone.

Stretching the truth is one thing.

Twisting and tangling it up

Until it turns into something that

Hurts people

Can be called

Lying, deceiving, and dishonest.

But no matter what you call it,

It all feels the same.

Like a big, fat slap in the face.