Fault Lines (7 page)

The tryout was a disaster.

Taylor sounded more like Cutesy the Cheerleader than Sadako, the sick girl seeing the spirit world and realizing she’s dying. Kailyn kept smiling even though she was supposed to be a mother killed by the bomb while looking at her baby boy. And Ricky sounded like he’d never seen the script – or worse – that he’d never seen letters on a page before, because he took about an hour to sound out every word as he went. I was so annoyed that it made me sound like the grandmother from hell instead of the spirit land.

Mrs. Luna didn’t say anything but “Thank you” after any of the tryouts. I sat through all the rest for about 45 minutes, staring out the window, until at the end she said the cast would be posted Monday morning on her classroom door.

“Enjoy your weekend,” Mrs. Luna said.

Yeah, right
. That was the night my dad would move out.

I got up to find my stuff and get out of there when I heard someone call my name. I turned to see Todd walking toward me, putting on a jean jacket and swinging his head to one side to get his hair out of his eyes.

“Hey,” he said. “That was good. You did a good job.”

I checked behind me to make sure he was talking to me before I answered. “Thanks.” I put on my coat. I didn’t know if he was serious about my audition or if he’d throw in some extra line like, “Yeah – you did a good job for a loser!”

“I didn’t try out for anything,” he said. “I just need the extra credit, bad, or else I’ll be failing English when report cards come out. I’ll work on the sets or whatever.”

“Uh-huh.” I wasn’t sure why he was saying this to me.

“Hey, we’re getting people together later in Derek’s yard for a bonfire, if you want to come. As soon as it starts getting dark.”

Taylor Rinehart came up behind him with Maddy Miskowski and a couple other girls. Taylor wrapped her arms around his neck and said, “I’ll be there, Baby,” and started laughing with the rest of them. Then she let Todd’s neck go and walked past me without looking, as if I didn’t exist.

“I don’t think I’ll be there, but thanks anyway,” I said.

I didn’t know why Todd was suddenly being so nice to me. Maybe he’d heard about my parents. Maybe he felt sorry for my pathetic situation and was just being polite like he did for Justine the fire pit gymnast.

I didn’t really care. I had no intention of showing up for the bonfire – until I got home and saw Dad packing his stuff to take to Grandma’s apartment where he’d stay for a while.

Mom was at Mike’s football game, so Dad took his time. He moved one suitcase at a time to the foyer, then wandered around picking which framed photos to take. I passed by him on my way to the kitchen, and we didn’t say anything.

What was there to say? Please don’t go? I couldn’t change anything. He wasn’t suddenly going to fight to keep our family together. In fact, I so hated watching his slow-motion packing job, I wanted to scream, “Get out! I can’t stand it anymore! If you’re leaving, go already!”

Instead, I decided to get out of the house until he was gone. I called Justine and we agreed to meet at Derek’s house for the bonfire.

I’d figured out Mrs. Hammond was a complete mess – lying around in bed like a coma patient – so Justine had no rules. No curfew. Candy for breakfast. Being the laundry woman, she allowed herself to wear her one pair of forbidden leggings to school every day and she washed them every night. But we didn’t talk much about it.

It was late October, so dusk fell early, about 6:30. I ate some lunch meat out of a plastic baggie and snuck a drink from the milk carton. I grabbed my coat from the chair where I’d dropped it and started to put it on when Bobby looked up from watching his Spiderman cartoon.

“Where you going?” he said.

I didn’t want to tell him, because I knew he’d want to go. But his eyes were sad like Barney’s get when I go somewhere without him. “There’s gonna be a bonfire at Derek’s.”

“Can I come?”

“I guess so.”

Barney lay at Bobby’s feet. He lifted his head and thumped his tail a few times on the floor hoping he’d be invited. I said, “No, you can’t come,” and my heart tightened as he put his head on his paws to look up at me sadly, his forehead wrinkling. Almost like he knew he’d be leaving the family, like he trusted me, and I disappointed him – like my love wasn’t big enough and strong enough to protect him from Creeper and Mom and problems.

I breathed in deep and blew it out to loosen my clenched chest. “Come on. Let’s go,” I said to Bobby, and Barney sprang forward, thinking I was talking to him. I didn’t have the heart to stop him now. So it would be the three of us at the bonfire.

Bobby turned off the TV and headed toward the front closet for his coat. He moved like Dad moved, slow, like he didn’t want to go. Barney trotted ahead and waited by the closet, smiling – his tongue hanging out – and I grabbed some gloves from the shelf. Dad stood in his office, putting something in a bag.

I walked to the front door and opened it to leave, but Bobby said, “Wait!” Then he ran in to hug Dad and buried his face in his chest. Dad was kissing the top of his head over and over, saying, “It’ll be OK, buddy. I’ll see you soon. Trust me, everything will be fine. Just hang in there.”

Me and Barney stepped outside to get away from the sob-fest and wait for Bobby.

Barney stretched and gazed into the distance. A few dried-up brown leaves swirled in the driveway from the cool wind that didn’t know which way it wanted to blow. Winter hadn’t gotten its act together yet, but it would. The cold and dark would get stronger, and the sun would get weaker, and the daylight would get shorter and shorter every day. Indian summer was over.

Bobby came out with tears running down his cheeks, so I warned him: “If you open your mouth to talk right now, you’ll start bawling and just embarrass yourself. So suck it up, or you’re not coming. And wipe your face off.”

He used his mittens to rub his cheeks and nose one hand at a time. I turned to look at some kids heading to Derek’s house, next-door to Creeper and kiddy-corner from mine. I reminded myself that Todd and Derek didn’t matter, and Taylor could be just as invisible to me as I was to her.

Bobby sniffled. I looked back right when his face wrinkled from a fresh wave of weeping he was trying to fight off. His arms stuck out like a robot, and he coughed out cries. Barney stood next to him, looking up with only his eyes, his head down and tail sitting low, flat, unmoving.

To hell with being embarrassed.

I touched Bobby under the elbows and pulled him into a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around my middle. “Bobby, I’m not gonna lie to you. Just because Dad said it’s going to be OK – it’s not. It’s rotten that he’s leaving, and Barney too. And how we have to move. So you’re right to cry. Go ahead and do it. “

I pushed him away and kneeled, so suddenly he was the taller one and I looked up at his shiny face. I ran my hands up his arms and lifted the hood of his jacket around his face to give him a hiding place. Barney nudged my elbow and peeked underneath it. I rested my hands loosely on Bobby’s shoulders with Barney tucked in between us, sitting.

“But I’ll be here,” I said. “I’ll always be here.”

Bobby didn’t move. He stared into my eyes trying to hold it together. Even though his face looked tiny inside the frame of that oversized coat hood, I told him, “You’re getting to be a young man now. I know you can be strong, but whenever you feel sad, remember what I said. No matter how much we bounce around, I’ll be with you. OK?”

He nodded. This time, I wiped his cheeks with my gloves, two hands at a time. The movement of me standing up let Barney know it was over – prompting his happy sneeze and dance. I put my arm around Bobby’s shoulders, and the three of us walked across the street. We didn’t speak as we cut through Creeper’s side yard to get to Derek’s back yard.

Kids were gathering on the patio around the picnic table, talking and laughing, messing around. In the middle of the yard, Todd stood next to Taylor and Derek, squirting lighter fluid on a burning pile of wood in a fire pit so it flared up hot.

I made my way to the opposite corner of the group even though it meant I had to stand near Joey and other younger kids. Bobby ran up to him, and Barney mingled through the crowd, stirring people to pet him and talk to him. I stood alone. Justine hadn’t arrived.

I turned my back to the others and stared up at the darkening sky. Fast-moving black clouds covered and uncovered the moon, and I thought of all the wishes I’d made on first stars of the night, for Derek to like me or to get a real horse for my birthday, all kindergarten stuff. None ever came true.

“OK, who’s got the stuff for s’mores?” Todd said, talking to the patio crowd.

“Here’s the marshmallows,” said Kyle Branson, a skater kid with a skull t-shirt on. A friend of his in a beanie hat, Brayden Alexander, pulled a box of chocolate bars from inside his coat. “Nobody can have a Hershey’s unless they use it in a s’more,” Brayden said.

Just then, I spotted Justine walking up from another neighbor’s side yard she’d cut through. She clutched a yellow box, shining against the dark backdrop of her leggings and dark jacket. “Wait a sec,” I said. “Justine has the graham crackers. Here she comes.”

Everyone turned to look, so Justine started to trot – when I suppose the great and powerful Taylor Rinehart couldn’t stand having attention on someone else. She shouted, “Geez, Justine, how many days in a row will you wear the same leggings before you stink?”

A few people chuckled, and Justine stopped cold from a few feet away. Taylor milked the moment by adding, “Ick, you already do. I can smell the tuna from here.”

Justine froze for a split second with all the neighborhood kids looking. Her face tightened. Then she exploded in tears the instant that she whirled around to run home.

I stood completely still. But a volcanic river of molten lava surged underneath my surface. Taylor smiled. Laughed. Everything happened in slow motion, like the eruption building inside me. I couldn’t pretend she didn’t exist. Her face was all I saw: unaffected by the pain she’d caused – as if it hadn’t just happened, as if it didn’t matter just two weeks ago Justine had suffered the greatest pain anyone can face.

Pure hate and adrenaline pumped through every vein, pore, and muscle of my body.

I pushed into the crowd of kids. I shoved a few out of my way to get to her near the center. I wanted to tear her apart so bad, I might even have growled. Barney caught up with me and barked. No one tried to stop me, not even Derek and Todd. In fact, everyone parted like the Red Sea did for Moses. The crackling fire added another biblical touch.

When I got to Taylor, her heavily made-up eyes bugged out in fear, like someone in a horror movie who’s about to be eaten by the zombie. High-pitched yelps from Barney provided the background music. I pushed her backward, away from the crowd and the flames, into the darkness, then rushed forward as she staggered, pushed her again and rushed forward. I grabbed her coat in both hands and lifted her feet right off the ground, with Barney trotting back and forth around my legs, trying to find a way in. But we were too close. Our foreheads touched and my crazy eyes looked straight in her frightened ones.

“If you ever,
ever
even
look
the wrong way at Justine again, I’ll
destroy
you,” I said through clenched teeth. Then I threw her so hard to the ground that her head bounced on the grass. She started crying, something I’d never seen before.

“I
will
hurt you, believe it,” I repeated, stepping forward, my fists clenched, as if I might kick her.

The circle of kids had widened, but they all remained in a horseshoe watching. Even Barney stood still waiting to see what she would do. I stood over her, and no one moved to help.

She raised herself up on her elbows still boo-hooing and looked around at everyone. For once, she had all the attention when she didn’t want it and for once, she didn’t laugh her “I’m better than you” laugh.

I was glad I’d made her cry like she’d done to Justine, and I was enjoying my moment of triumph. Maybe that’s why – when she finally struggled to her feet and came up with something to say back at me – she caught me by surprise.

She still blubbered like a two-year-old as she wiped off her coat and pants. Then she glared and turned to run home, shouting over her shoulder, “I’m telling Mike!”

So what
. “You do that!” I yelled, watching her leave. I mumbled, “As if Mike cares.”

“I think he does,” Derek said. “He’s been going out with her for two months.”

It was my turn to stand there with a horror movie look on my face. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t look at anyone. I wanted to yell and scream and stomp, but I wouldn’t give everyone the thrill of seeing me upset by Taylor. So I just walked toward my house.

“Come on, Barney,” I called behind me without looking back. He raced ahead of me, excited by all the action.

I knew a lot of those kids thought the fight was about me being jealous of Taylor’s looks. But I didn’t care. Honest to God, I never was jealous of her – because if a zombie did tear her open to eat her guts, a rock would sit where her heart should be.

When I heard footsteps behind me, assuming it was Bobby, I spun around to say “Get lost,” but it was Todd. “What do you want? Want to rub it in a little more? Don’t bother.”

“No, I just came to see if you were OK,” he said. “Taylor deserved it. That was harsh, what she said to Justine.”

I stared at him.

“I heard about your parents.”

My heart skipped a beat at the thought of everyone knowing my business. “Yeah, well, that’s the way it goes.”

“Well, anyway, I’ve been there and I know how much it sucks.”

Juice from the fight still flowed through my veins. “No. No! You know what sucks? You know what makes me feel like jumping off a cliff? People like Taylor. Mean, selfish, ugly people who get away with murder. People like Mr. Reiber, sticking his nasty nose in where it doesn’t belong and ripping my parents apart! Right should win, but it doesn’t. Nothing bad ever happens to those people, and they deserve it!”