Alibi Junior High (6 page)

A red-tailed hawk
circles overhead. I stand at the bus stop and watch. It soars like a small, deadly kite.

Cell Phone Girl watches me for a second and then mutters, “Head case.”

I mutter, “Barnacle brain,” then watch her teeter up the street in her exceedingly high heels, her thumbs dancing across her cell phone, surely sending mindless text messages to her masses.

I scan the sky, looking for my hawk, but it’s nowhere to be found. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and head for home.

It’s not a long walk, but it feels like one with this heavy pack. This morning Albert walked with me and even though we didn’t
talk much I enjoyed the company. He told me he doesn’t take the bus home after school, he does something else. Maybe it’s wrestling, or could it be band practice? I don’t remember. I wasn’t really paying attention.

I wonder what my dad was like when he was my age. Did he walk to school with a friend? Was he popular? Did he have to carry his books in a backpack? My dad and I lived in a quiet little bubble. He never talked about his past. Now he’s not around but I’m still living inside this bubble; it’s become part of my skin. I wish I could shed my skin like a snake.

“Cody.”

I look over. Andy’s standing in the shadows of his garage. I’m surprised I didn’t see him right away. I’ve got to remember to stay focused. I can’t drift around in a pathetic fog all day. I walk toward him and he joins me in the driveway. He’s wearing a suit, but what really catches my attention is his arm.

“Hey, you’re wearing your arm.”

He looks at it and starts moving it around. “Yeah, but this isn’t the good one. This one’s more cosmetic than anything else. I’m still trying to get used to the good one. It’s surprisingly heavy, like carrying a small weight around all day.”

I’m so used to seeing him with a missing arm that it actually seems strange to me. Somehow by adding this new part it subtracts something from the whole.

I just nod my head like I know exactly what he’s talking about.

His mood changes and he suddenly seems very uncomfortable. “Hey, I was wondering…I was hoping you could do me a huge favor.”

“Sure, at least I think so. What do you need?”

“I’ve got this job interview and, well, this is kind of embarrassing. Do you know how to tie a tie? I can’t seem to do it with only one working arm and my mother isn’t around to lend a helping hand.”

Somehow he seems to shrink with the confession.

I try to act casual. “Sure, no problem. I’ve been tying my own tie since I was nine.”

He’s got the tie draped loosely around his neck. I put down my backpack, stand in front of him, and attempt to tie it. After two or three frustrating minutes, I have to confess, “Sorry, this is really tough. I’m not used to doing it like this. It’s all backward. Maybe we should find a mirror. That’s how my dad used to tie my tie. He’d stand behind me and use the mirror.”

“Sounds good. There’s a mirror in the bathroom. You can stand on the edge of the tub to reach over my shoulders.”

A car horn honks a few times on the street.

We both look over and see a dark blue convertible slowly driving by the front of the house. It’s fantastic—a totally restored car from thirty or forty years ago, big, hulky, and flashy in a way that’s completely different from today’s cars. The sun is gleaming off the highly polished hood and the engine is rumbling with suppressed power.

The top is down, and behind the wheel there’s a woman with long brown hair waving at us. She’s smiling, and even from this distance it’s easy to see how incredibly beautiful she is.

She pulls the massive car into the driveway. Andy breathes in sharply. I glance his way and he looks both nervous and excited. He’s smiling, but the smile seems a lot like his suit, something he just put on to make a good impression.

The car slowly cruises down the driveway and comes to a stop next to us. The music is pounding and the woman’s smile seems to grow as large as the music is loud. A moment later she reaches down, turns the key, and a new, tight silence quickly settles around us. The only sound is the
tick, tick, tick
of the engine cooling down.

She shakes her head and says, “You know, I’ve used a phone with one hand before. I imagine with all your talents you could do it too.”

He slowly starts to walk toward the car. “I’ve never been very good with phones, even the two-handed kind.”

“How you doing, Andy?”

“I’m okay, Annie, damaged but not broken. How about you?”

She steps out of the car and starts walking toward him. When she’s about six feet away, she laughs, runs the last few feet, and throws her arms around him.

“Oh, I can’t believe it. You’re really back. I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Missed you too. You’re still the fairest one of all.”

She smiles over his shoulder. “My magic mirror returns.”

“Always glad to perform a public service.” He glances my way. “Oh, Annie, this is Cody, he’s living in the cottage. Cody, this is Annie. She’s…an old friend.”

She gives me a little wave. “Hey, Cody, nice to meet you. You keeping an eye on Andy?”

“Hi, Annie. He seems to be doing okay.”

“Don’t let him fool you.”

Andy eyes the car. “Enough about me. How about the GTO? Does Johnny know you’re driving his baby?”

“Of course he does. I wouldn’t dare touch it without his say-so. You know how he is about this car. But when I told him my old VW needed a new clutch, he insisted I use it. It was strange, very un-Johnny-like, if you know what I mean.”

“You’re right. That doesn’t sound like the Johnny we know.”

“Yeah, he’s different. I think it’s the…well, did you see him at all over there?”

I can sense Andy growing uncomfortable; the smile is completely gone from his face. “A couple times but he was way up north, near Turkey, and I was mainly in Baghdad.”

“When you saw him how did he look?”

“He…he looked good, I guess. The last time I saw him was about five months ago. There’s a club on the base. It’s a good place for music and something cold to drink on a hot night. We went
there and spent most of our time together talking about all the crazy things the three of us used to do.”

Her smile loses its conviction of happiness. “Yeah, those were good times, real good times. It seems so long ago now.”

She glances at her watch. “Oh, speaking of time. How did that happen? I’m late. I’m sorry. I’ve gotta go. I have to pick up my little sister.”

She gives him another big hug. “Welcome home, hero. Call me. Okay? Seriously, I mean it. We’ll go out and catch up.”

“You bet.”

We watch the car back out of the driveway, toot its horn, and then roar away in a cloud of dust and exhaust.

Andy and I stand together in silence. We can hear the car fading away into the distance, the sound of its engine growing dimmer with each passing moment. He seems upset and I don’t want to say anything that might upset him further. So I just stand there, waiting for him to say something. If I had the power to fade away from Andy like the sound of that engine, I think that’s what I would choose to do right now.

Finally he turns my way and forces a smile. “Hey, how about helping me with this stupid tie?”

“Sure.”

We walk in silence through his house and into a bathroom. Andy faces the mirror, and I stand on the edge of the bathtub behind him. I reach around his wide shoulders, look in the
mirror and start to tie his tie. It’s definitely easier this way.

I search for something to say. I can feel the silence thickening around us. I blurt out, “Um, Annie’s real nice. Did you guys used to date or something?”

He seems aggravated by the question. “No. What gave you that idea?”

“I guess the way she hugged you.”

“She’s been seeing Johnny for as long as I can remember. Johnny and I joined the service together. He used to be my best friend.”

“Used to be?”

“Still is, I guess. I just haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Why?”

“We were stationed hundreds of miles apart, that’s all.”

“I thought best friends keep in touch.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes they don’t. Okay?”

I finish with his tie. “How’s that look?”

He eyes it for a second. “Perfect.”

I step down off the tub and nearly fall when a loose, round rug slips out from under me. I steady myself on Andy’s shoulder and then follow him outside.

I squint as we walk into the glare of the afternoon sun. Somehow it seems brighter than just a few minutes ago.

A deep voice barks, “You guys call a cab?”

I’m startled by the voice and I flinch.

There’s a taxi waiting in the driveway. The driver’s leaning against the roof. I can’t believe I didn’t hear the car pull up to the house. Why did it take me so long to notice it? I’m slipping, getting soft, not paying attention; I’m being conquered from within. Time to get my head back in the game before something happens.

Andy looks at me and shakes his head. “Sometimes I know exactly what you’re thinking. I’m not sure what I find more disturbing—that I know what you’re thinking, or that I’m thinking the same thoughts.” He waves at the driver. “Yeah, I called. Sorry, I didn’t hear you pull up.”

The driver snorts. “No problem. I just got here.” But judging from the look on his face I’m guessing it
is
a problem. This guy looks like he would have a problem waiting an extra ten seconds for his passenger to shut the door.

Andy pats me on the back. “Thanks for the hand. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

W
hen I open the door to the cottage, Jenny is standing a few feet away, waiting for me, clutching her cell phone. She seems very anxious. I quickly glance around the room expecting the worst.

“What’s the matter?”

“Where have you been?”

“Um, school. You know, that place I go to five days a week.”

“Don’t be a smart-aleck. You should have been home at least a half hour ago.”

I smile. Is this what it’s like to have a mother worrying about me? “Andy asked me to help him with something. What’s the big deal?”

Her cell phone goes off, she glances at it. There’s a change to her expression: it’s all business now.

She quickly hands me the phone and starts talking as fast as she can. “Okay, it’s your father. He called earlier. You can talk for one minute, not one second more. He said you’d understand.”

I do. I fumble with the phone before I manage to open it. I nervously place it against my ear.

“Hello?”

“Cody, is that you?” The connection is poor and I can hear heavy equipment in the background. It sounds like a large steel wheel grinding boulders into pebbles.

“Dad?”

“Yes, it’s me. How are you, son?”

“I’m okay. Where are you? It sounds like you’re inside a coffee grinder.”

“I can’t say. Do you understand why?”

“Yes, I understand.” I press the phone closer to my ear in an effort to hear better. I can feel my heart starting to pound.

“Cody, I love you. I want you to know that.”

“I love you too. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m just busy taking care of our little problem. Hopefully I’ll have it settled soon and we can be together again.”

“How long will it take?”

“I have no way of knowing that, son. You’re just going to have to be patient.”

“Okay.”

“How’s school? Was everything okay with the transcripts?”

I start to laugh. “Everything was fine, but why did you add that ‘problem with authority’ thing? It’s really giving me problems with authority.”

I can hear him chuckling. “I wanted them to keep you on your toes and press you to work harder. I guess it’s working.”

“Well, they definitely have me on my toes.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence. We can both sense that the minute is about to expire. There’s no meaning in the silence, it’s just a complete lack of sound.

He starts talking faster. “Our time’s almost up. Take care of yourself. Remember: Always stay diligent. Don’t forget, your eyes are your most important weapon. Always expect the unexpected. Listen to Jenny; don’t give her a hard time. Study hard. I love you, Cody.”

“I love you too. Oh, and Dad…,” The phone goes dead in my hand. I stand there listening to the silence for a while, unable to accept that the conversation’s over. I can feel the heavy fog
of emptiness settling around me. I inhale it deeply. I can’t help myself.

One minute. That’s all I got, just one lousy minute. One minute isn’t long enough for a conversation; it’s barely long enough to ask for directions. I could hold my breath longer than a minute. I think this whole “international man of mystery” routine stinks. It really does. Why couldn’t my dad have been an accountant?

Jenny places her hand on my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

I look into her eyes. There’s so much concern there; she really does care for me. Part of me feels like falling into her arms and crying against her shoulder and the other part is completely repulsed by the weakness of the idea.

I’m not sure what to do with these feelings. It’s like they’re in a washing machine, spinning around, mixing together like socks, shirts, and underwear. I can’t just reach in and take only what I need.

I mumble, “Yeah, I guess.”

“How’s your dad?”

“Fine, I guess, but who knows? I’m sick of all this. I’m going to my room.”

“Sure, okay. Hey, do you want me to make you some hot chocolate? It’s really good.”

“No, thanks.”

I walk down the hall and into my room, then close the door
and fall upon my bed. I feel as empty as my walls. I bury my head in the pillow; my eyes start to water. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

Jenny’s voice is soft and low, filled with concern. “Cody, it’s me…can we talk?”

I sit up in my bed. “Just a sec.” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and slowly walk across the room. I’m at the door but I just can’t bring myself to open it. I lean against it instead.