Fruit (21 page)

Something fishy is going on with Daniela. It wasn’t just the way she acted at my birthday dinner. At first, I just figured that Daniela was having a bad day. Or she felt embarrassed about her father’s restaurant. I didn’t think about it too much until my first real clue came the following week.

It was Wednesday. Mrs. Kraft had asked me if I’d stay behind after school to cut heart-shaped doodle pads for Valentine’s Day. I said sure, even though I wasn’t all that thrilled about it. I had to get my papers delivered, but Mrs. Kraft said it wouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes.

“I think you’d make a wonderful librarian,” she said as we cut out our red construction paper hearts. “You’d be surprised how thrilling a career in library sciences can be, Peter.”

I glanced down at her pantyhose/sandal combo.

“Well, you never know,” I said. I didn’t want to make Mrs. Kraft feel bad, but only nerdy people work in libraries. And I know saying that makes me a bit two-faced, but I’m not a library assistant because I
want
to be one. I’m here because I
have
to be one. But when the new and improved Peter Paddington walks down the hall on
the first day of grade
9
, there’s no way anyone will catch him within ten feet of the library, especially at recess or after school.

Anyways, after I finished cutting up the heart doodle pads, I headed home. I was more than fifteen minutes late and knew some of my customers would be getting all nervous that something might have happened to me.

“He hasn’t come yet.” Mr. Hanlan would be pacing in front of the living room window. “That’s not like Peter.”

“Shut up!” Mrs. Hanlan would yell. “I’m trying to watch
TV
!”

When I got to the corner, my paper bundle was still waiting for me, which was strange because Daniela should’ve brought it to my house like she always does when I’m late. I had to carry it home and by the time I loaded the papers into my
Observer
bag, I was really behind schedule.

“A little late today, aren’t you?” Mr. Cornish asked when I came up to his door. He grosses me out, because he has the longest fingernails I’ve ever seen on a man. I can’t help but look when he hands me his money, even though I’m afraid I’ll puke right then and there on his porch.

“I’m just running a bit late tonight, Mr. Cornish,” I said.

“Yeah, well,” Mr. Cornish said. He was picking at his teeth with a four-inch pinkie nail. “Cold enough for you?”

I hate it when my paper route customers ask me stupid questions, but I smiled and hurried on. I figured Daniela must’ve been working overtime at her dad’s restaurant.

My second Daniela clue came two days later. I was in the Shop ’N’ Bag treating myself to a large chocolate milk and a bag of
BBQ
Fritos.

“How’s business?” I asked Mr. Bernard when I put my stuff down on the counter.

“Oh just fine, Peter,” Mr. Bernard said and smiled in a sad way. “Just fine.”

I could tell that things weren’t fine, though. The
7-11
up the street must’ve been crushing the Shop ’N’ Bag with its chilli dogs and shiny floors and Coke Slurpees. There was no way Mr. Bernard and his sombrero paintings could ever compete.

“Why are they doing this to me?” Mr. Bernard would cry. Every night before he made the long walk home to his small apartment, he’d grab a can of Nine Lives from the shelf for dinner. One day, someone would find Mr. Bernard, alone and broke and dead in his tiny apartment. I knew for certain that someone would be me.

“
BOY FINDS BODY
!” the
Observer
headline would read with a picture of me pointing towards Mr. Bernard’s apartment.

“Say, your friend was in here this morning,” Mr. Bernard said as he stuffed my milk and Fritos into a paper bag.

I almost said, “What friend?” but I stopped myself. I didn’t want Mr. Bernard to think I didn’t have any.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “Which one?”

For a minute there, I thought Mr. Bernard was going to say, “I think he said his name was Andrew. He was hoping to find you here. Wanted to take you to the movies or something.”

But instead he said, “The mouthy girl. The one who always sounds like she’s got a cold. What’s her name again? Her dad owns that restaurant down the way.”

“Oh,” I said, trying not to sound too disappointed, “Daniela.”

“She bought quite a few interesting things,” Mr. Bernard said. “A Valentine’s Day card, some chocolate, and a tin of cinnamon hearts. Looks like she may have herself a sweetheart. Maybe you better think of getting her a little something if you want to compete.”

I almost threw up. “Mr. Bernard, you have it all wrong,” I said. “Daniela and I have nothing in common and to be honest, even if I was dating a girl, she wouldn’t be anything like Daniela.” I thought about Debbie Andover in her nun costume, strumming a guitar.

“Well, just thought you should know, Peter,” Mr. Bernard said. “That’ll be $
1.30
.”

As I made my way home, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Mr. Bernard had said. Daniela buying a Valentine’s card? For who? If she had a boyfriend, then why hadn’t she said anything to me about it? I wondered if it was Paolo Vernesse. He’s in her class at St. Michael’s. Daniela has had a crush on him since the beginning of the year. She says he’s gorgeous.

“Great ass, great hair,” she told me. “He plays on the soccer team. All the girls in my class have the hots for him, but they’re too shy to do anything about it. They sit around giggling and batting their fuckin’ eyelashes at him. Not me, though. I go after what I want.”

For Christmas, Daniela bought Paolo a bottle of
cologne.

“It’s called Pino Silvestri. Comes in a bottle that looks like a pine-comb. I got it at Big V. Cost me a pretty penny, I’ll tell you that much.”

But when Daniela handed Paolo the gift, he gave her this weird look, said “Thanks,” and walked away.

“I haven’t even smelled it on him once,” Daniela told me. “How’s that for gratitude? What a loser. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t like me. Guys can be pretty tricky to figure out. One day, they look at you like you’re a piece of shit. The next day,
BAM
! They’re all over you like a fuckin’ candy apple.”

I nodded, but the truth is, I don’t think any guy would ever be “all over” Daniela, candy apple or not.

My next clue came from Daniela herself. I ran into her outside her dad’s restaurant. I was on my way to the Shop ’N’ Bag again — only this time to buy more masking tape for my nipples. Mr. Bernard is going to run out soon, but I feel good knowing that my nipples are keeping him in business.

“This must be some school project,” he said to me on my last tape run.

I nodded. “Masking tape animal sculptures are a lot of work,” I said. “Do you have any idea how much it takes to make a life-sized elephant?”

Daniela was standing outside Papa Bertoli. She was wearing a white apron and hairnet.

“Hi,” I said when she saw me. I tried to sound vague,
like I’d been too busy to notice that we hadn’t seen each other for a while.

“How’s it going?” Daniela said and nodded. She was looking over my shoulder, scanning the parking lot.

“Aren’t you cold without a jacket?” I asked.

“No.”

“So, what’s new?”

“Nothing.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you asking?”

“Just asking a question,” I said. “Why are you asking why I’m asking?”

“What?”

“Never mind. I heard you were in the Shop ’N’ Bag the other day. Mr. Bernard told me you bought some interesting things.”

“I’m always buying shit in there,” Daniela said. “Big deal.”

“Yeah, but Mr. Bernard said you bought a Valentine’s Day card and a tin of cinnamon hearts.”

“That old fucker!” Daniela said. “I should go down there and give him a piece of my fuckin’ mind. Imagine, telling everyone what his customers are buying. That’s an invasion of fuckin’ privacy.”

“Did you buy the card and hearts for Paolo?” I asked. “If you did, maybe you should return them and save your money. Remember how you bought him that cologne? You said yourself that you’ve never smelled it on him even . . .”

”Paolo?”
Daniela interrupted. “Why the fuck would I be buying stuff for that jerk?”

“Well, you’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Please,” Daniela said. “I couldn’t care less about that son of a bitch. I got a boyfriend twice as good-looking as that asshole. One that makes me sweat buckets.”

I gasped. When I asked her who it was, she said she was sworn to secrecy.

“I can’t breathe a word of it,” she said. “A lot of lives are on the line. It’s too dangerous.” She checked her watch and turned to go back into the restaurant. “And don’t ask any more questions, either. That goes for the old blabbermouth at the variety store, too.”

That cheesed me off. I mean, it wasn’t like I cared about Daniela and her stupid love life. I headed straight for the Shop ’N’ Bag to load up on tape and grab a Snickers bar.

“Stay clear of Daniela,” I told Mr. Bernard. “She’s acting a little violent these days.”

“Lover’s spat?” Mr. Bernard asked and smiled.

“I thought we already went over this,” I sighed. “Daniela and I aren’t a couple. We don’t have the same interests, we don’t go to the same school. We’re not even friends for that matter, Mr. Bernard. She’s just someone who lives across the street from me.”

“But I see the two of you together an awful lot.”

“I don’t plan it that way! We just run into each other.”

“Well, thank you for clarifying things for me,” Mr. Bernard said as he handed me my change. “I won’t ask any questions next time.”

“Thank you.”

“But I should let you know that a box of chocolates is
always a nice way to let that someone special know you care about her.”

I shook my head. Mr. Bernard was really starting to bug me. I managed a fake smile, grabbed my bag and made a mental note to check out the tape selection at the
7-11
.

As much as I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Daniela had said to me. Part of me wondered if she was lying about having a boyfriend. The facts didn’t add up. For starters, she said she couldn’t talk about him, which didn’t make sense, seeing as how she never shut up about Paolo. Secondly, her parents didn’t let her date. The only boy she was allowed to be around was Gianni.

“Of course, there’s you,” she told me one day. “But you don’t really count.”

What did she mean by that? Was she saying I wasn’t like other boys? What gave her the right to go and say that?

“My parents feel the same,” I said. “You don’t count, either.”

Thirdly, how could Daniela get herself a boyfriend in the first place? What guy would want to date someone like Daniela?

But another part of me wondered if Daniela
was
telling the truth and she really
did
have a boyfriend. Maybe she was dating an escaped criminal or murderer. That’s why she couldn’t talk about him. Maybe she was hiding him in her basement. Then, one night, while the whole family was asleep, Daniela and her criminal boyfriend would squeeze through the basement window
and steal her parents’ car and drive to Mexico where they’d be in hiding for the rest of their lives.

Or what if Daniela was dating someone in the Sarnia Mafia? What if she was seeing someone related to John DeLouza, Andrew Sinclair’s stepfather? Then Andrew and I could become friends through Daniela. She could introduce us at the Mafia meeting and Andrew would say to me, “Aren’t you in my class at school?” and I’d say, “Oh, I’m not really sure. What’s your name again?”

I didn’t know what to believe. But I
did
know that Daniela didn’t need me around anymore. I hardly ever saw her. Which was fine. I didn’t care at all. She could spend all the time she wanted with her imaginary or real boyfriend. I was too busy with other things. Important things. Like trying to make up with the Virgin in my closet and thinking of ways I could break up the Hanlan’s marriage.

The next night, I was on my way to the Shop ’N’ Bag. I was still cheesed off at Mr. Bernard for making all those comments about Daniela and I, but I kept picturing him eating cat food every night. He couldn’t afford to lose another customer to the
7-11
. As I passed by Mr. Bertoli’s restaurant, I looked through the window and saw Daniela standing behind the counter. She was talking to this Banger. He was skinny with long hair and zits and was wearing a red checked lumber jacket, tight jeans, and a Burger King visor. He was leaning over the counter towards Daniela. She was smiling, but seemed nervous
and kept checking over her shoulder towards the kitchen.

“It’s true,” I thought. “Daniela has a boyfriend.”

It was like I was psychic, because there are Bangers in lumber jackets all over Sarnia. Why was this one special? But somewhere, deep inside of me, I just knew. I hurried past before Daniela saw me. I was very disturbed and ended up buying three Mr. Big chocolate bars at the Shop ’N’ Bag.

“They’re for my sisters,” I said to Mr. Bernard, but I don’t think he cared.

I didn’t want to walk past the restaurant again but I needed to get a better look at Daniela’s Banger. When I looked in the window, the Banger was gone. Daniela was cleaning off a table in the corner. In the parking lot, a Thunderbird revved its engine. The radio was on full blast and the driver did a donut in the snow before tearing off. I couldn’t see who it was, but I didn’t really have to. I just knew he was wearing a Burger King visor. I looked back to see if Daniela was still there, but she was gone. One word flashed into my mind. That word was “Danger.”

“You better watch yourself, Daniela,” I whispered as I made my way home. I had already gone through two chocolate bars by the time I reached my back door.

I watched Daniela from my living room window the next day. She was in her garage. I thought about going over there and saying how I saw her and her boyfriend. Then I thought, “Why let her think I’m even paying attention
to what she does?” Then I thought, “But she should know that she can never keep anything from a top secret agent like myself.” And then I thought, “Maybe she’s too in love with her new boyfriend to even care what I know.”