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  CHAPTER THREE

  Happy birthday to you!

  Happy birthday to you!

  Happy birthday, Missus Collins!

  Happy birthday to you!

  The legal capacity at the Shrimp Shack was sixty-five people. As Robin looked around, there had to be at least that many folks in his grandmother’s joint, maybe more. And every one of those sixty-five people joined in for a rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday” for Missus Collins’s seventy-fifth birthday.

  It was Sunday afternoon. The last few days had been almost normal. The Friday afternoon payoff to the Rangers had gone off without a hitch. Now, Robin, Sly, and Kaykay were helping Robin’s grandmother give this birthday party. They’d already served more than a hundred pounds of shrimp.

  Missus Collins—she was a tiny woman who wore a pretty flowered dress and fancy hat to her celebration—had a huge family. Doting husband, four daughters, grandchildren, and even a few great-grandchildren. Between her family and friends from church, there was barely room in the Shrimp Shack to move around.

  A huge round of applause followed the song. Then Missus Collins tried and failed to blow out seventy-five candles on a giant chocolate cake.

  “When you seventy-five, you gonna have a par-tay like this?” Sly asked Robin. Miz Paige had asked the kids to wear black pants and white shirts to work the party. Sly’s sleeves were rolled up as high as they could go.

  “You know it,” Robin told him. “And you’re gonna give it for me at the hotel you’re gonna own in Vegas.”

  Kaykay sidled over. She’d been helping Missus Collins cut her cake. She had on black capri pants and a white men’s dress shirt. Robin thought she looked amazing. “Nice party. Know the best part?”

  “All the shrimp you ain’t eatin’?” Sly jibed.

  “Funny.” Kaykay shot him a sour look. “Just wait till you’re reincarnated in some alternate universe where aliens eat you for lunch. You’ll be wishing they were vegan like me.”

  Sly frowned. “What’s ’reincarnated’? And what’s an ’alternate universe’?”

  Kaykay stared at him, until she realized he was messing with her. All three kids laughed.

  “The best part is Tyrone Davis ain’t here,” she admitted. “He gettin’ on my last nerve. What we gonna do ’bout him?”

  “Not sure,” Robin said. Robin tucked his shirt back into his pants. They couldn’t stand around and yak like this for long. Just until everyone had taken a piece of cake.

  “You best think of something,” Kaykay advised.

  “He always does,” Sly quipped.

  “Well, Tyrone trying to get up into my business, if you know what I’m sayin’,” Kaykay reported. “An’ I don’t want him anywhere near there.”

  Ugh. Robin winced. Kaykay was talking sideways, but it was clear that Tyrone was making moves that involved more than Kaykay’s mind and personality. There had to be some way that they could cut Kaykay loose from him. But how? He didn’t have an answer.

  “Maybe Mr. Smith will know what to do. Hey now, be careful!” Sly edged out of the way of two of Missus Collins’s great-grandchildren, who were spinning in circles and trying to walk despite their dizziness. “Did you talk to him yet?”

  Robin shook his head. “Nope. Well, I called him. He’s sick with a cold and no voice. I figured he should get well before we talk.”

  Kaykay smiled. “I think you’re the one who needs to be well for that convo, Robin Paige.”

  “No kidding,” Robin agreed.

  He saw his grandmother across the room motioning for him and his friends to start collecting the empty cake plates. For the next fifteen minutes, the kids were busy on party duty. Then they heard the tinkling of a spoon against a glass.

  “Attention please! May I have your attention!”

  The voice of Sly’s father, Reverend “Tex” Thomas, always commanded respect. The room quieted immediately. Half the people in the room—including Robin’s grandmother and Robin—belonged to Reverend Thomas’s church. The out-of-towners wished they did.

  “I want to make a special announcement and then let the birthday girl say a few words,” Reverend Thomas intoned. He was in a suit and tie. He always wore a suit and tie. Robin wanted to ask Sly if his father wore a suit and tie to bed.

  “She’s my birthday girl!” Missus Collins’s husband called out.

  Everyone laughed.

  “You got that right, Dewayne,” Reverend Thomas agreed. “Missus Collins, would you come stand by me?”

  Missus Collins stepped over to Reverend Thomas, who waited until she was at his side to continue. “Missus Collins is a founding member of our church. She still does all the little things that get no glory. Answers phones. Prepares mailings. Visits the sick. Comforts those in mourning. And shows up every Sunday, even in the cold and snow of winter.”

  “You got that right!” Missus Collins agreed to more laughter. “I got me some good boots!”

  Reverend Thomas continued. “I simply want to say that in her honor, I’d like the church to do a charity mission right after Christmas. Down south, where the hurricane hit. There’s plenty of good Christian charity to be done with our sweat. If we can raise the money to do the mission, we’ll call it the Collins Mission. In honor of this wonderful woman!” Reverend Thomas took Missus Collins’s hand; everyone clapped. “Missus Collins, would you care to say a few words?”

  Robin knew what was coming. It gave him a lump in his throat. He edged closer to where Missus Collins was standing so he could see.

  “I’m not much on speechifying,” the old woman said. “But this week I got a miracle and everyone needs to know it. As you pro’ly know, we got burgled last week. Someone took my great-grandmother’s candlesticks, ’mong other things. Those sticks was given to my grandmother on my great-grandma’s seventy-fifth birthday and then to my mother when my grandma turned seventy-five. I was planning to give them to my oldest daughter, Denise, today. When they were stolen, I thought that would never happen.”

  She turned to a small table behind her. On that table were the candlesticks Robin and his friends had retrieved from the Rangers’ storage room. Missus Collins showed them to the crowd.

  “God works in mysterious ways. Jesus must be watchin’ us, because those candlesticks came to me by mail on Friday. No return address. God wanted me to give these to Denise. Thank you, God! Thank you, Jesus!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “Thank you, Robin.”

  Robin turned. Kaykay was behind him, whispering to him. She took his hand. He would have fainted with happiness, except for what he saw next.

  Mr. Smith. Talking with his gramma over by the counter. They weren’t talking like they were strangers, either. They were talking and laughing like they were old friends.

  He’s better? He’s invited? He knows my grandmother? How? What? Since when?

  “You see that?” Robin asked Kaykay.

  Kaykay sniffed. “Hard to miss.”

  “I gotta talk to him,” Robin told her.

  “Want me to come with?” Kaykay asked.

  He did. He actually wished Kaykay could hear the conversation so they could talk about it afterward. But he shook his head. The right thing to do was talk to Mr. Smith one-to-one. “Nah. I got it covered.”

  He turned sideways and walked a zigzag through the throng. Mr. Smith, who was now alone, saw him coming and waved happily. “Robin Paige! Or should I say, Robin in da hood?”

  “Hi, Mr. Smith,” Robin managed. “You feel better already?”

  Mr. Smith cleared his throat. “ ’Bout eighty percent, which at my age is enough.”

  Robin decided to start on safer ground than the Ninth Street Rangers. “You know my gramma?”

  “I do,” Mr. Smith said with a nod.

  “Since when?”

  “Since before your late daddy was a little boy,” Mr. Smith admitted. “Your grandma used to come into my shop now and then. Course, we were all younger then.”

  Robin was f
loored. Since his father was a boy? And he didn’t know?

  “How come you never told me?” It was more an accusation than a question.

  Mr. Smith shrugged. “You never asked. It had nothing to do with us. I know Missus Collins too. Two fine ladies. Very fine. Especially your grandmother.” Then he shifted. “So, I was thinking … I heard Reverend Thomas talking about the church mission. I’m thinking maybe the Ninth Street Rangers and Robin in da hood can finance that.”

  Crap. Here it was. He had to tell Mr. Smith right now.

  He shared the whole story. He didn’t try to make himself look better than he was, either.

  “I wrecked everything,” Robin finished. “The bank of badness is now closed. We can’t go back there.”

  Mr. Smith looked at him, aghast.

  “Robin Paige!” He went off on Robin, big time. “I thought you were a smart boy, but you got shrimp for brains! You done blew it! You blew it like a balloon!”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Though there was still a birthday party going on, Robin wanted to cry. Mr. Smith was angry with him. Even worse, Mr. Smith was disappointed. Having Mr. Smith disappointed in him was as bad as having his grandmother or his friends disappointed in him.

  Robin respected old Mr. Smith so much. And not only because he was a war veteran who had lost part of a foot fighting in Vietnam. He was also smart, kind, and a true friend. Without Mr. Smith, Robin in da hood would never have happened.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Smith. I really wanted to get those candlesticks for Missus Collins,” Robin murmured.

  Mr. Smith gazed at Robin and then toward the front door of the Shrimp Shack. Robin followed his eyes. Missus Collins had just presented the candlesticks to her daughter Denise. Denise was a well-dressed woman of almost fifty who looked very much like her mother. Robin had heard that while Missus Collins had never finished junior high, Denise was a lawyer. The two of them looked so happy.

  That scene? That scene wouldn’t be happening if we hadn’t gone back for those sticks. That’s true for sure. It’s also true I could have died. My friends could have died too. Was it worth it? Would I do it again if I knew everything that would happen? That the bank of badness would be shut down? That the Rangers would be shooting at us?

  Robin was honest with himself.

  I’m not sure.

  “You say you got outta there without sayin’ anyone’s name?” Mr. Smith’s voice got Robin’s attention again.

  Robin nodded.

  “And you told Kaykay’s folks she had an allergic reaction? An’ they bought what you was sellin’?”

  Robin nodded again.

  “And you went back there because Missus Collins was so kind to Dorothy—ahem, Miz Paige?”

  Robin startled, even as he nodded one more time. Mr. Smith had just referred to his grandmother by her first name. Dorothy. No one called her that. Even her closest friends called her Miz Paige.

  Except for Mr. Smith.

  Man, I gotta talk to my gramma.

  “Everything okay?” Sly stopped working for a second to check in. Robin was glad for the company.

  “Fine, fine,” Mr. Smith said.

  “That’s good!” Kaykay popped up on the other side of the counter and leaned into the conversation.

  “You been listening?” Robin asked her.

  “Listenin’ to what?” Kaykay acted all innocent. Then she winked at Robin. He grinned back at her. He’d wanted her to hear his conversation with Mr. Smith. Evidently, she just had. That was so Kaykay.

  “I think you kids need to listen up,” Mr. Smith said, though he faced Robin. His voice was gentle. Comforting.

  How a grandpa might talk to a grandkid, Robin thought.

  “Robin told me everything. I was mad, at first. But then again, when I was fourteen, I woulda done the same thing,” Mr. Smith chuckled. “Only difference is, I woulda got myself shot. No regrets, Robin. Okay?”

  Robin thought those were nice words that didn’t have much juice. He had so many regrets.

  “We should have called you first,” Robin shared.

  Mr. Smith smiled broadly. “Like I said, when I was fourteen, I woulda done the same as you. So, who wants to bring me some of that fine cake?”

  Kaykay raised her hand. “I’ll do it. But you gotta maybe help me with something first.”

  She sketched out the Tyrone situation at school and asked Mr. Smith if he had any ideas.

  Mr. Smith shook his head. “Gotta think on that one, Kaykay.”

  “The dude’s a pig. An’ a gangsta! An’ a drug dealer!” she exclaimed. “He all in my business. It’s disgustin’, and I’m over it. We need to shut him down.”

  Drug dealer. That’s it.

  Robin punched the air. “I got it!”

  “Got what?” Sly asked.

  “Got how to nail Tyrone and get Kaykay back to us. Now listen up.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  On Monday, Robin and Sly had to deal yet again with the sights and sounds of Team Tyrone at Ironwood Central High School. This time, Tyrone’s arm had been draped over Kaykay’s shoulder as they came into the cafeteria for lunch. Her arm was around Tyrone’s waist.

  It made Robin want to puke up his mystery meat.

  She didn’t look at Robin. He didn’t look at her. It was how they’d planned it. They wanted Tyrone to think that Kaykay was now ready to take it to the next level.

  That had been the setup. Now, after school, it was time for the payoff.

  As he and his buds walked along Randolph Road—a street of nasty walk-up apartment buildings that ran parallel to Garvey—they went over their plan.

  “The shades work?” Robin asked Kaykay.

  Kaykay nodded. “I checked ’em out in the bathroom at school. They work great.”

  “Batteries still good?” Sly queried.

  Kaykay nodded again. “Far as I know.”

  Robin was satisfied. When he and his friends had bought a bunch of spy gear before their first operation at the bank of badness, they’d picked up some sunglasses that had a tiny built-in movie camera. When the camera was turned on, it filmed whatever the wearer was seeing. Robin didn’t know then what they could be useful for but thought it would be good to have them in their arsenal. Today, Kaykay was going to put said glasses to use.

  “Okay. Put ’em on,” Robin instructed. “I want to see how they look.”

  Kaykay found the shades in her backpack. They were nothing special to look at. If a person didn’t know in advance that they hid a 1.8-megapixel camera and an eight-gig memory card, no one would suspect a thing.

  That’s the whole idea, Robin thought as they neared Twenty-Eighth Street. If this works …

  Robin tried not to get his hopes up, but they got up anyway. If his plan worked, Tyrone and Dodo would be out of his life for a long time, which meant that Kaykay could start being friends with him and Sly in public again. That would be a dream come true. He missed not being able to hang with her at school, and he hated seeing her with Tyrone. Deep down, he was afraid that Tyrone might put her in a position that she couldn’t get out of, so to speak. Kaykay was a fast-talker with a big mouth, but Robin thought that if things went even a couple more days with Tyrone, Kaykay might find herself in a sitch where talk would be useless.

  As the three kids reached the corner of Twenty-Eighth and Randolph, they stopped.

  “We split up here,” Robin told them. “Kaykay, good luck.”

  “I’m gonna kill it,” Kaykay said confidently. “Just wait and see.”

  “Give us three minutes to get in position,” Robin reminded her. “Then do your thing.”

  There were a few hugs. Then Robin and Sly crossed the street and went into the first apartment building on the corner. They’d done a dry run after Missus Collins’s party. They knew they could climb the stairs of this building and come out on the roof. Then, jumping rooftop to rooftop, they’d work their way to the corner of Twenty-Eighth Street and Garvey, where they’d have a sixth-story bird’s-eye
view on what was happening on the street below.

  Everything worked perfectly. Three minutes after they got into the first building, Robin and Sly were leaning over the parapet wall of the apartment building closest to the corner of Garvey. They were super careful. A fall meant death. But from here, they could take in one of the roughest corners in the hood, where the Ninth Street Rangers did a lot of drug dealing. Tyrone and his homeboy Dodo often worked this corner for the Rangers.

  Robin peered down, looking for his two enemies. He didn’t see them.

  “Bogeys at nine o’clock!” Sly pointed.

  “What?”

  “Bogeys at nine o’clock. That means, enemy planes coming from the left,” Sly explained as he pointed to Tyrone and Dodo. “It’s what they say in the movies.”

  “Get serious, dude.” Robin spotted Tyrone and Dodo. They had the black bandanas of the Ninth Street Rangers slung through the belt loops of their shorts.

  Where was Kaykay?

  Ah! There she was, on the same side of the street as Tyrone. As planned, she stopped and hung out about fifty yards from Tyrone and Dodo, waiting for a car to pull up near them.

  It didn’t take long. Within a minute or two, a cream-colored Lexus with a couple of kids in the front seat slowed to a stop. Robin saw Tyrone approach the driver. Meanwhile, Kaykay approached Tyrone. Even though he was making the deal, Tyrone took a moment to embrace her.

  Then Kaykay stood close as the dude in the Lexus handed Tyrone some cash. Tyrone took a little glassine bag from Dodo and passed it to the driver. There was a fist bump between Tyrone and the driver—clearly, this wasn’t their first deal—and then the car roared off.

  Probably headin’ back to the Richie burbs, Robin figured. Those kids come to our hood to buy their crack or 420, then go home to use. Meanwhile, gangbangers are blowing each other away for the chance to sell to them.

  There’s somethin’ wrong with that.

  “Okay, now for the hard part,” Sly told him.

  “I know,” Robin muttered.

  There was one more part of the plan for Kaykay to execute. They wanted Tyrone to think that Kaykay had come by because she missed him so much that she just had to see him. There was only one way to do that. …