Saturday Boy (5 page)

It was the end of the commercials and
Zeroman
was supposed to be on next but instead of the opening part with the theme music it showed an American flag being lowered with the White House in the background. I thought maybe I'd switched to a news channel or something by accident but the remote was right where I'd left it on the arm of the couch.

On TV the American flag was gone and a black one was being raised in its place and when it got to the top of the pole the wind snapped it open, revealing a clenched fist with lightning bolts coming out of it. My jaw dropped. The dreaded Mayhem symbol! The words
coming soon
appeared in the middle of the screen and the sound of Dr. Mayhem's laughter rang in my head long after they'd returned to the regularly scheduled
Zeroman
episode.

* * *

Later that night I lay in bed staring up at the Apache helicopter, too excited to sleep. Had Dr. Mayhem's nefarious plot finally succeeded? Where was Zeroman? Coming soon? How soon? Suddenly nothing else seemed important. Everything fell away—homework, play rehearsal, Budgie—those things just didn't matter anymore. There was only the mystery of what had happened. I didn't think I'd think about anything else ever again.

I'd thought about it while I brushed my teeth and put my pajamas on and I'd thought about it as I got in bed. I thought about it for hours and hours and the only thing I could say for sure was that it was totally unfair for the TV people to make me wait. In fact, the whole thing seemed downright mean. I stared up at the Apache helicopter and tried not to think about it.

* * *

Me and Dad are buzzing over a thick, green jungle toward a line of red smoke coming up out of the trees. My code name is Cochise. I'm wearing a cowboy hat that has an eagle feather in the hatband.

“There's the LZ, Cochise,” Dad says, pointing out the landing zone. “Looks like we'll have those POWs home in time for milk and cookies.”

We buzz over to where the clearing should be but there isn't one. The smoke is rising from the tiniest of tiny breaks in the leaves.

“Something's not right,” Dad says. “There should be a clearing here! Where's the clearing, Cochise?”

“I don't know!”

“I don't like this, man, not one bit.”

“Me neither, Padre,” I say. “Let's get the heck outta Dodge.”

I'm turning the chopper around when the rocket blows off our tail rotors, sending us spinning out of control. Dad is shouting as we fall. I move the stick back and forth but nothing happens—without the tail rotors I may as well be trying to steer a tornado. I don't think either of us hears the second rocket.

“THEN I WOKE UP.
Isn't that a weird dream?”

It was morning and I was eating cereal at the kitchen table. Aunt Josie was drinking coffee. Actually, she was more like holding the coffee mug in her hands and staring at it. Her eyes had these dark circles under them. Mom was still sleeping.

“Aunt Josie?”

“Hm?” she said. “Oh! You're right, that
is
a weird dream.”

“What did you dream about?”

“I don't remember. I didn't sleep very well last night, sweetie.”

“Why not?”

“Um . . . the pull-out couch hurts my back.”

“Is that why you're so sad this morning?”

She nodded her head. “Yeah.”

I picked up my empty cereal bowl and went and put it in the sink. I even ran water into it like Mom always asks. Then I went upstairs and brushed my teeth and came back down and put my shoes and jacket on. Aunt Josie was still sitting at the kitchen table. I went over to her and gave her a big hug.

“I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks, Derek,” she said. “Have a good day at school and I'll see you this afternoon.”

“Why? Is Mom working another late shift?”

“No.”

“Then why—?”

“You're going to miss the bus if you don't go now, okay?”

“But what about my lunch? Mom usually makes me lunch.”

“You'll just have buy lunch today. Get my purse for me?”

I brought it to her and she got her wallet out and looked in it. She took out a bill and handed to me. It had the number ten on it. It had to be a mistake. I looked at Aunt Josie. Aunt Josie looked at me.

“It's all I have,” she said.

“But it's a ten.”

“Just keep it.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I can keep it?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“You're going to miss the bus.”

“Woo-hoo! I'm rich!” I held the bill up to my face and squinted so I could read the tiny letters. “Helloooo President Hamilton!”

* * *

Budgie wasn't at the bus stop when I got there. Also Aunt Josie had forgotten to remind me to wear a hat and my head was cold. Maybe there would be enough money left after I bought lunch to buy one.

A car pulled up to the bus stop that wasn't Budgie's mom's minivan or Budgie's dad's big, silver spy car. It was small and blue with two doors and one of them opened and I was surprised to see Budgie get out. He walked over to me as the blue car drove away. When it was gone Budgie stuck a finger in the air but if he was trying to do a peace sign he was only getting it half-right.

“Who was that?”

“Her name's Phoebe,” grumbled Budgie.

“Who's Phoebe?”

Budgie mumbled something and shoved his hands into his pockets and kinda turned away.

“What?”

“
Nanny
, okay? She's my—my parents got me a nanny.”

“A nanny? Why?”

“I don't know! It's—I—shut up, Lamb! Just shut up!”

He got right in my face and poked a finger in my chest. “If you tell anyone about this I'll punch you in the wiener so hard it'll come out your butt!”

I told him that his secret was safe with me but by the time recess rolled around just about everybody knew, which was weird because I'd only told two or three kids and I made them swear they wouldn't tell anyone. I didn't see what the big deal was, anyway. As far as I could tell, a nanny was just one more person to play with.

We didn't get to go outside for recess because it was too cold and it had started to rain. I was at my desk drawing a picture of a giant robot fighting a T. rex when Barely O'Donahue walked by and bumped my desk on purpose so I'd mess up.

“Dude!”

“Budgie says he's gonna punch you in the wiener because you told everyone about his nanny.”

“No I didn't.”

“Yes you did.”

“I didn't tell you, did I?”

“No but—”

“Then how do you know?”

“Budgie told me.”

“Wow,” I said. “Big secret.”

Barely O'Donahue walked away and I went back to drawing. I was able to turn the mess-up he caused into a laser sword for the T. rex, which was actually pretty cool. I wasn't that worried about Budgie punching me in the wiener because he'd have to sneak up on me to do it and I didn't think he could. The universe had rules, after all. For example, two things couldn't be in the same place at the same time, and there's no such thing as a fat ninja.

Then, during reading block, it happened. Missy Sprout was reading out loud from a book and I didn't have to listen to know it was about horses because books about horses are the only kind she reads. She may have read about unicorns once or twice but she wasn't fooling anybody.

“Budgie!” said Ms. Dickson.

“What? I'm not doing anything,” said Budgie.

“Give me the note.”

“What note?”

“The note, Budgie,” said Ms. Dickson. “The one you were handing to Sally. Bring it to me, please.”

Everybody watched Budgie walk up and put a folded-up piece of paper in Ms. Dickson's hand. Then he stood there with his back to the classroom and his head down. His ears had gone red. Ms. Dickson opened the note and read it to herself. Then she folded it up again and put it on her desk. She got a dry erase marker, went to the board, and wrote
weener
in big letters.

The boys all cracked up. Even some of the girls laughed, too. Missy Sprout just looked upset because she had to stop reading about horses for five seconds. Budgie made fists with his hands and I was pretty sure that if his ears got any redder they'd burst into flame. I bet he was wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. I knew that feeling. It wasn't fun. I kinda felt bad for him.

“Can anyone tell me the correct spelling of this word?”

“Wiener,” said Violet. It was funny to hear a girl say it. “W-I-E-N-E-R. Wiener.”

Ms. Dickson wrote the right spelling on the board and then handed the marker to Budgie.

“Please copy this word twenty-five times using the correct spelling, please.”

Budgie didn't say anything. He just went to the board and started copying while most of the class laughed. Missy Sprout wasn't laughing. And this time I wasn't, either.

* * *

Mom was up when I got home. She was in her bathrobe, drinking tea at the kitchen table with Aunt Josie. Her hair was back and I could tell she'd been crying because her eyes were puffy and a little bit red.

“Mom!”

I ran over and gave her a big hug. I put my face against her neck the way I used to when I was little and closed my eyes tight. She hugged me back and put her fingers in my hair. We squeezed and squeezed.

“Piggy, did you wear a hat today?”

“I kinda forgot,” I said. “But Aunt Josie didn't—”

“Don't blame Aunt Josie when it's your job to remember. I'm just glad you didn't lose another hat.”

“Come on, that only happened that one . . .” I stopped and thought for a second. “Those two—three times.”

“Derek, you know hats cost money,” Mom said. “And money doesn't grow on trees.”

“I know,” I said. “Same as hot dogs.”

“Hot dogs?” said Aunt Josie.

“When Derek was four he planted a cocktail wienie in the backyard because he thought it was a hot dog seed.”

This one time at lunch, a kid named Rufus Hornblower laughed so hard that milk came out his nose. I didn't know it could happen with tea. I don't think Aunt Josie knew it either because she looked
really
surprised. She put her mug down quickly and grabbed a bunch of napkins and wiped her face and the front of her shirt.

“Oh my God! That's—why am I just hearing about this now?”

“I never told you?” said Mom. She smiled and even laughed a little.

“No. I would have remembered that. Be
lieve
me.”

I smiled, too, and not just because Mom did but also because it was pretty hilarious seeing Aunt Josie shoot tea out of her nose. It was almost as funny as the time a couple weeks ago when Budgie dropped the dry erase marker at the board and split his pants bending over to get it. And if that hadn't been enough, Ms. Dickson made him stand in the supply closet in his underwear while she fixed his pants with a stapler.

“What? I thought I could grow a hot dog tree,” I said. Then from over Mom's shoulder I noticed the garbage can was out and it was full of broken stuff. “What happened to all the dishes?”

Aunt Josie looked at Mom. Then she looked at me.

“It was an accident,” she said. “I was emptying the dishwasher and—”

“But they're like . . .
all
broken.”

“It was an accident,” said Mom in a tiny voice I barely heard.

She didn't say anything after that. Aunt Josie didn't say anything either but she reached over and put her hand on Mom's arm. It was quiet for what seemed like a really long time. Then Mom closed her eyes and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When she opened them they were wet. She looked at Aunt Josie for a second and then back at me.

“Derek . . . your father . . .”

“Will he be home for Christmas?”

The words just came out. I'd learned not to hope too much for Dad to be home for birthdays or Thanksgivings or things like that because when I did, I always ended up disappointed, but he hadn't been here for Christmas since I was five and this time I was in a play and everything. It was like if he could just be here for this Christmas I could forget all of the other stuff.

Mom shook her head and closed her eyes tight but tears came out anyway. She wiped them off and cleared her throat and looked at me.

“I don't think so,” she said, hugging me so tight I almost couldn't breathe. Her whole body was shaking.

“But maybe?”

“Your father is . . . he's . . .”

“What's wrong?”

“I, um . . . nothing.” She shook her head. “I just really miss him. That's all.”

“I miss him, too,” I said. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, Piglet.”

“There's gonna be a special episode of
Zeroman
soon where Dr. Mayhem finally takes over the world only it's longer than a regular episode and it's on past my bedtime but can I please stay up and watch it, please?”

“I don't know, Derek. Can you ask me again later?”

“Yeah. Oh and also? Can you let me go now because I really hafta go pee and your squeezing is kinda making it come out a little.”

She let me go and I took off for the bathroom. I had to go so bad I didn't even take time to close the door even though Mom says it's rude to go with it open. I'm usually pretty good about it but this time it was an emergency and I figured she'd rather I get to the toilet instead of going in my pants. When I was done I washed my hands and went back to the kitchen where I found Aunt Josie rinsing out the mugs.

“Where'd Mom go?”

“Upstairs to lie down.”

“Is she okay?”

Aunt Josie shrugged but didn't turn around. She kept on rinsing out the mugs, running them back and forth under the water. They must have been really dirty.

“No,” she said. “Not really.”

“Is she sick?”

“She's sad.”

“Why is she sad? Did I do something?”

I'd been pretty good lately. I mean there was the hat thing from this morning but I didn't think that was it. And she hadn't seen me peeing with the door open, either, and those were really the only two things I could think of.

“And also? Aunt Josie? Y'know you don't need to wash out those mugs. You can just put those in the dishwasher.”

“I know that. I just need . . .” She turned from the sink and looked at me. Her hands were bright red from being under the hot water. They looked angry. “Why don't you run up and do some homework before dinner, okay?”

“But it's Friday. I don't do homework on Fridays,” I said. “And besides, I didn't even get a snack.”

“So get one.”

“Won't that ruin my appetite?”

“I don't know, Derek, will it?”

“Probably.”

“Well there you go, then.”

“But I'm a little bit hungry.”

“Then get a snack! For Christ's sake, what do you want me to tell you?”

But I didn't get a snack. I ran up to my room and slammed the door and locked it even though I wasn't supposed to. I didn't even care if the lock broke and I couldn't get out. I almost
wanted
the lock to break. That way I'd be stuck in there and probably die of starvation and it would be all Aunt Josie's fault for yelling at me.

I lay down on my bed. I could hear Aunt Josie calling my name from the bottom of the stairs but I didn't answer her. I went and got my desk chair and stuck it under the doorknob instead. Then I went back to my bed and lay down again and stared at the ceiling. I looked up at the Apache helicopter and thought about my dad. He wouldn't have yelled at me like that.