Parenting and Support Theme Analysis

Beatrice Leep had laughed. “No, he’s not an Indian! I call him Mullet Fingers ’cause he can catch mullet with his bare hands. You know how hard that is?”

A mullet was a slippery, free-jumping baitfish that traveled in schools of hundreds. The bay near Coconut Cove was full of them in the spring. Throwing a cast net was the customary method of capture.

“Why doesn’t he live at home?” Roy had asked Beatrice.

“Long story. Plus, none of your business.”

“What about school?”

“My brother got shipped off to a ‘special’ school. He lasted two whole days before he ran away. Then he hitchhiked back, all the way from Mobile, Alabama.”

“What about your parents?”

“They don’t know he’s here, and I’m not gonna tell ’em. Nobody is gonna tell. You understand?”

Roy stood rooted in the center of the road. He had an important decision to make, and quickly. From one direction came the police car; running in the other direction were his two friends...

Well, the closest things to friends that he had in Coconut Cove.

Roy drew a deep breath and dashed after them. He heard a honk, but he kept going, hoping that the police officer wouldn’t jump out and chase him on foot. Roy didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, but he wondered if he could get in trouble for helping Mullet Fingers, a fugitive from the school system.

The kid was only trying to take care of some owls—how could that possibly be a crime? Roy thought.

“They’ve probably got all the necessary paperwork and permits.”

“They’ve got permits to bury owls?” Roy asked in disbelief.

“The owls will fly away. They’ll find new dens somewhere else.”

“What if they’ve got babies? How will the baby birds fly away?” Roy shot back angrily. “How, Dad?”

“I don’t know,” his father admitted.

“How would you and Mom like it,” Roy pressed on, “if a bunch of strangers showed up one day with bulldozers to flatten this house? And all they had to say was ‘Don’t worry, Mr. and Mrs. Eberhardt, it’s no big deal. Just pack up and move to another place.’ How would you feel about that?”

“Dad wants my brother to come back and live with us again, but Lonna says no way, José, he’s a bad seed. What the heck does that mean, Tex? ‘Bad seed.’ Anyway, they’re still not speakin’ to each other, Lonna and my dad. The whole house feels like it’s about to explode.”

To Roy, Beatrice’s situation sounded like a living nightmare. “Need a place to hide out?” he asked.

“That’s okay. Dad says he feels better when I’m around.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m making a whole scrapbook, honey, something to show your children and grandchildren.”

I’d rather show them the owls, Roy thought, if there are any left by then.