Alibi Junior High (17 page)

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Authors: Greg Logsted

BOOK: Alibi Junior High
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He shakes his head. “We’ve gone against some of the most powerful people in the world, and the one that comes after me was a small-time arms dealer out of New York. Just goes to show you: never underestimate a determined underdog.”

I can hear the frustration in my voice. “That’s it? Don’t underestimate an underdog? How about don’t underestimate anyone! All those people are dead.”

My dad just stands there. For once he seems to be at a loss for words. Finally he says, “You’re right. I’ve realized we have to be more careful. From now on we’ll be a complete team, total trust, covering every track. Truth is, I need you.”

He reaches out and pulls me close again. I hold him tight. Even with the bulky vest wrapped around his chest he feels familiar and safe; his smell brings back pleasant memories. I don’t ever want to let go but there’s also this huge part of me that wants to push him away.

Andy looks down the hall toward the door. “Hey, guys, you can talk all this through later. I think it’s time to get going.”

We follow Andy down the long hall and out a glass door leading to a parking lot. The air is crisp and clean, and the sky is full of stars. It feels good to finally be outside, to begin to relax, to be free, to be alive.

My dad looks over his shoulder. “Did I hear that you tried to fight one of those big guys?”

“Well, let’s just say I—”

About thirty feet ahead of us a shadow darts out from behind a building and raises something toward my dad.

I try to push him out of the way. He stumbles to the right. Everything seems to slow down.

There’s a noise.

Something kicks me hard in the chest.

It shoves me backward.

Picking me off my feet.

I crash through a plate-glass window.

I slam down on the hard tile floor.

Small pieces of glass shower down around me. I’m looking up at the ceiling.
What happened? Did someone push me? I feel so strange.

My arms are spread out wide; my legs are bent and twisted. There are mounds of little glittering, perfect squares of glass covering my body and the floor. They’re beautiful, like diamonds. I guess I’m rich.

Outside something’s popping.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Is someone playing with Bubble Wrap? That’s a funny idea. I try to laugh. It sounds like an old, broken rattle.

Jenny’s suddenly leaning over me; her eyes are wide with panic. She’s shouting, “Cody! Oh, my God! Cody!”

The words come out of my mouth slowly. “What…happened?”

She shrieks, “Honey, you were shot. Oh, god. Hold on, okay…you’re going to be okay.”

Shot? I was shot? Is that what she said?
I turn my head to the side, the glass crunches as I move. There’s blood on the tiles. Lots of blood, it can’t all be mine.

My dad and Andy are leaning over me now. My dad looks as frantic as Jenny. They look so scared. Everyone’s moving strangely, like a movie that keeps stopping and starting over and over.

“Hang in there, son. We got the guy. You just stay strong.”

My dad grabs my feet; Andy has one of my wrists and Jenny has the other. They lift me up and start running.
Where are we going?
It feels like I’m flying on a magic carpet, sailing across the parking lot.

Andy’s yelling, “No more! Hasn’t there been enough of this? No more!”

Jenny’s crying; I want to tell her everything’s going to be okay but the words don’t come out. Maybe if I think them really hard she’ll hear me.

I’m lying in the backseat of Annie’s car. The top’s down and I’m surrounded by the night.
How did I get here?
Jenny’s on top of me, her knees on either side of my chest, she’s pressing something against where I got shot. It doesn’t hurt, nothing hurts.

Andy’s in the front yelling, “Keep pressure on it! Push as hard as you can!”

My dad’s driving. We’re going so fast, maybe too fast. The huge engine roars through the night. The tires screech around corners. He’s constantly honking the horn and shouting, “Get out of the way!”

Jenny’s crying and yelling, “Stay with me, Cody! Stay with me!” She’s covered in blood.

Above her I can see the stars. They’re so beautiful, thousands—no, maybe millions of stars filling every inch of the sky.

I look closely. I move toward them. Together they look like snow. I find myself blending into them. It’s cold and I like it.

I’m skiing with my dad again back in the French Alps, tackling that incredibly steep trail called Dead Man’s Drop.

I’m planting my pole, swinging my body, and hopping. Planting my pole, swinging my body, and hopping. I’m gaining on my dad, sinking deeper into the snow. It feels like I’m riding a white wave. I start to laugh. The cold air feels great against my face. I love the rush, the excitement, the danger.

Dad glances back at me, grins, and shouts, “Now this is living!”

I zoom past him with a large smile stretched across my face. I yell, “Out of my way, old man!”

 

 

C
ody?”

“Cody!”

I focus on the voice. There’s a man looking down at me. He’s wearing a New York Mets baseball cap. He’s shining a light in my eyes.

“Cody, can you hear me? Say something.”

I go to say yes but it comes out as a moan instead. He seems to understand me anyway.

“Good…. Cody, you’ve been shot, do you understand?”

I moan my yes.

“Good. You’re in the emergency room. I’m a doctor. You’re going to be okay.”

He’s still hovering over me, looking down; I notice the florescent lights behind him, the white walls and curtains. I focus on his cap.

I say, “World…Champs.”

“What’s that?” He leans in close and puts his ear right against my mouth.

I repeat, but this time a little more forceful, “World Champs.”

He stands up, smiles, and touches the cap. “That’s right, buddy. World Champs. We finally beat the Yankees.”

AWAKE
 

During the day
everything’s brighter, the light comes with its own hope, and the warm comfort that there are better days ahead. There’s activity, noise, and people constantly visiting. Laughter can be heard. Jenny sits by my side. Renee sometimes stays for hours. The pain doesn’t seem that bad.

The nights are different. A quiet settles around the hospital. If I’m awake in these dark, late night hours, overwhelmed by pain and loneliness, I’ll think about my past and wonder about the future. It’s then that I feel marooned. I’m the forgotten astronaut left stranded on some strange, distant planet.

I snap my eyes open, after clawing my way out of another bad dream: the blood, the shattered plate-glass window, Jenny screaming. I glance at the digital clock. 2:37. I moan and feel the dull,
aching pain in my chest and shoulder flare back into existence. It’s going to be a long night. I better call the nurse for something to help me sleep.

There’s a button that I’ve got to push. It’s around here somewhere. I grope for it in the darkness. I glance toward the corner of the room and freeze. Someone’s sitting in a chair looking at me. I can see the dark outline of his body. I make a quick inventory of my surroundings for potential weapons, not that it matters—I doubt I’d be able to fight right now.

“Cody, you awake?”

“Dad? Is that you?”

“Yes…here, let me turn on a light.”

His dark shadow moves across the room to the nightstand and a moment later the small lamp blazes to life with its low-wattage bulb.

The lamp isn’t very bright but I still blink as my eyes adjust to the light. “What are you doing here? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

He quietly pulls the curtain closed around us before moving a chair close to my bed. “This is the safest time for me to visit. Sorry I wasn’t here before, I couldn’t take the chance.”

“I understand.”

My dad leans forward. “I’ve read all of your files, and it looks like you’re going to be fine. It’s going to take you a couple months of rehabilitation but they expect a one-hundred-percent recovery.”

I try to smile but I can’t. Did he say “months”?

“What about the arms dealer? Did you take care of him?”

My dad grins. “Everything’s been taken care of. We shut him down completely. Good thing, too. There was more to him than we thought. He was putting a lot of weapons into the hands of people who should never have them.”

I nod my head and the two of us sit together in the dark silence. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to my dad. These long moments of silence never bothered me before I started living with Jenny.

He’s leaning over my bed. His wide shoulders and muscles are barely contained under his jacket. He looks so strong, tough, and brave.

“Dad?”

“Yes, son.”

“I didn’t do too well back there. I was so scared.” I stare up at the ceiling remembering how I felt that night. “I thought for sure that they were going to kill us. I wasn’t brave at all. I wanted to be like you, but I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Hey, you did fine. Don’t go looking at me. I’m not that brave. When you were shot—I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.”

“No, Dad. You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. When he starts to talk his voice is eerily calm. “Listen, what I should have done, if
I was brave enough…What I should have done is let your aunt Jenny raise you. That way you would have had a proper childhood. You should have friends, different teachers, and a house to call a home.” He smiles. “At the very least, you shouldn’t have to change your name every other week.”

I look at my dad and I want to tell him that “No, my childhood was just fine, I wouldn’t want to change a thing,” but I can’t get myself to say the words. What does that mean? I don’t think it’s too hard to figure out.

He’s the only permanent thing in my life, but I want more. I’m tired of traveling the world. I’m tired of never having friends. I’m just tired.

I reach out and grab his large hand. “Maybe I should stay with Aunt Jenny until I’m better. I could try to finish the school year, too.”

My dad’s hand grips mine harder. I glance over at him and he has his head bowed, studying our hands. He’s quiet for a long time. Finally he looks up and says, “High school starts next year. I loved high school. Maybe you should…you know…give it a try.” He tries to smile but there’s no life behind it. “I can visit, and if you ever need me, I’ll be on the next plane.”

I don’t know what to say. I want to say yes but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.

He gives my hand a squeeze. “Tell you what. We’ll just play it month by month for now. You just focus on getting better. Okay?”

“Okay…and Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“I love you.”

He reaches down, holds me tight, and whispers in a voice that sounds close to tears, “I love you too, Cody. Take good care of your aunt Jenny.”

 

 

I
don’t want to ride in a wheelchair.”

Jenny throws up her arms. “Cody, we’ve been over this. It’s just policy. This is the procedure for being discharged. You want to get out of here, right?”

I look at Jenny and the nurse. The nurse looks like she’s slowly losing her patience.

“Of course I want to get out of here. I just don’t want anyone to see me in a wheelchair.”

The nurse pushes the chair over to me. She forcefully says, “Just get in. I’ll have you out of here in two minutes.”

Something about the look on her face convinces me to quickly get into the chair. I don’t believe she’s a woman you say no to.

When we’re riding down the elevator, the nurse says, “You’re very fortunate to survive such a terrible hunting accident. I think you’re destined for special things in this life.”

I don’t know what to say but Jenny says, “I think you’re right.”

I’m amazed at how quickly we’re out of the hospital and into
Jenny’s Jeep. When they tell you it’s time to go, you’re gone.

It was raining for the last three days but today it’s a clear warm day. I roll down the window. The fresh air feels good against my face. The radio sounds good; they’re playing something I heard in the hospital.

“Hey, can you turn up this song?”

Jenny gives me a smile as she turns up the volume. “I like this too, it’s fun.”

We slowly drive through the now familiar town. It’s nice to be out of the hospital. I forgot how great it is just to drive around. There’s a strange sense of freedom to it all. It’s enough to make you want to do something really stupid, like sing along to the radio, but I don’t.

We pull into Jenny’s street. She reaches over and pats me on my knee. “Hey, almost home.”

Home? It does feel like I’m going home. All of the traveling I’ve done, all of the special places I’ve seen, none of them has impressed me as much as that little backyard cottage in the Connecticut woods.

“Aunt Jenny?”

“Yeah, hon?”

I search for the words. “I just want to say…that I, um, well…you know.”

She reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. “I know. I love you, too.”

We pull into our driveway. I notice a huge banner stretched across the front of the yellow house. It’s the same one they put out for Andy. It says welcome home.

Jenny slowly drives down the driveway. There’s a crowd of people by the garage. It takes me a second to realize they’re all waiting for me.

When we get to the garage everyone starts cheering. I look around. There’s Albert and his mother with huge smiles. Pogo, Frank, and the rest of the karate club kids are there too.

Troy Sampson’s the only guy still wearing a tie. Amber and Nicki are standing by his side.

Renee’s the first one to the door and she has it open before the Jeep’s even to a full stop. Seeing her face is like turning on a light in a dark room.

Cell Phone Girl is over to the side smiling at me; she has her phone pressed against her ear.

When I get out of the Jeep, my arm still in a sling, I nod to Andy, who has one of the largest smiles in the crowd.

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