My Life as a Cartoonist (26 page)

I race the three blocks to my road, praying my mom's home. I push the wheelchair up the steep hill of my driveway—good to go down on skateboards, not so good for shoving wheelchairs—and screech to a halt outside the back door. I hurry into the kitchen, leaving Bodi momentarily with Umberto.

“Mom!” I yell. “It's Bodi!”

My mom grabs her glasses from the counter and hurries outside. She nods to Umberto and gently takes Bodi. As I follow her into her office on the other side of the driveway, I realize Umberto's still in his chair by the kitchen door.

I grasp the handles of his wheelchair and lift him backward up the three steps to my mother's office, praying we got here in time.

Please Be Okay

My mother works quietly and efficiently as she checks Bodi. I have a zillion questions but I know enough not to bother her while she's performing an examination.

Umberto seems to take the whole thing in, watching my mother as she inspects Bodi's tongue and eyes.

“Looks like he had a seizure,” she says. “It's too soon to see if there'll be permanent damage.”

She leans in close to Bodi and pets him tenderly. It's not just because he's our dog—I've seen her do this to all her animal patients.

“Is he going to be okay?” Umberto asks.

“We'll need to keep our eye on him,” Mom answers. “But hopefully, yes.”

In all the commotion, I realize I haven't introduced my mother to Umberto. I can tell from her expression she just figured out Umberto must be the kid who's been terrorizing me. She's too gracious to say anything now, but I know she'll grill me for information the second Umberto leaves.

“Sometimes animals go into shock afterward,” my mom says. “It's a good thing you got him here quickly.”

I tell my mom the only reason we got here so fast is that Umberto let us use his wheels.

“There are only a few benefits to being in a wheelchair, and racing at top speed is one of them,” Umberto says with a smile.

Bodi seems to be okay, resting on the carpet. I wait until my mother leaves the room before I ask Umberto why he helped me.

He looks at me as if the answer is obvious. “Like I'm going to sit there and watch a dog die. What kind of obnoxious creep do you think I am?”

I don't answer the question. After a few minutes Umberto starts laughing.

“Okay, maybe I
have
ranked pretty high on the obnoxious scale. But doing nothing while an animal's in distress? That's not me.”

My mother hands us two bottles of water and a container of chocolate-covered almonds from the office kitchen. She also feeds Minnie a dog biscuit on her way back to the house. Minnie has a field day sniffing around the many pet smells in the waiting room. I pet him for a few minutes so he doesn't feel threatened.

Underneath the shock and upset of this chaotic day, something nags at me. I take a large gulp of water before asking the question I've wondered about for a long time. “Why have you been such a jerk to me?”

Umberto shrugs, which makes me feel angry all over again, as if this afternoon never happened. “Don't take it personally,” he finally says.

“It's hard not to take it personally when you've made a mission out of bullying me.”

“Wow. You think I'm a bully? Really?” Umberto actually seems surprised.

“What would YOU call it?”

Umberto's tone is now apologetic. “I guess I have been. I'm really sorry.”

I wait for him to say more, and after a few moments, he does. “I got picked on a lot at my last school. I definitely didn't want to come here and turn into one of those jerks who tortures other kids in his class.”

“Well, you did.”

He nods in agreement. “Maybe I was just nervous about being new and having to start from scratch in the friend department.”

I try to make sense of what he's saying, but it's hard. “If you were anxious about making friends, wouldn't it be easier to be NICE?”

Umberto looks at me, then bursts out laughing. “I guess I'm not used to doing things the easy way.”

“Obviously.” I start laughing too. “I mean, we had drawing in common. And cartoons!”

We finish the rest of the chocolate-covered almonds and head back outside. I carry Bodi and hold open the door with my hip. My parents suddenly appear out of nowhere as if waiting to pounce.

I introduce Umberto to my dad, who shakes his hand, then gets behind his chair, helping Umberto down the steps to the driveway with Minnie tagging along behind.

“I'm sorry there's no handicap access,” Dad apologizes.

My mom explains she's been saving up to renovate and points to the side of the building where a ramp will lead to her office. She's being nice, but not overly nice, and I know it's because of how mean Umberto's been to me. But now he's the reason my dog is still alive and I'm ready to forgive and forget.

My father lifts Umberto's wheelchair up the steps to our kitchen while I carry Bodi. Umberto's face lights up when he sees my monkey. “Live and in person, it's Super Frank!”

I take Frank out of his cage and gently hold him toward Umberto. Minnie isn't as excited as Umberto to meet Frank and begins to bark. Umberto reaches down and picks Minnie up to safety in his lap. I tell Umberto I'd like to show him what Frank can do.

Thankfully, our doorways are wide enough for Umberto to navigate. He follows me to the den, where I demonstrate Frank's skills with opening and retrieving DVDs. When I show him the monkey college DVD, Umberto watches in amazement.

“I KNEW you'd think this was cool,” I say. “I wanted to show you this the first day we met.”

“I was stupid,” Umberto admits. “And I'm really sorry.”

I keep checking on Bodi, who still seems tired. I don't want to think about how close I came to losing him today.

After a while, I go upstairs and bring down my markers and several pads. Umberto and I spend the rest of the afternoon doing what we should've done from Day One—making each other laugh with our drawings.

You're Friends with WHO?