Saturday Boy (6 page)

I got off the bed and reached under and felt around until I found it—an old plastic lunchbox that had a cool, black car on it with
Knight Rider
written underneath. It had belonged to my dad when he was my age and was filled with every letter he'd ever written me. I opened it and counted them out until there were ninety-one arranged on my quilt. I found the very first one and picked it up and opened it.

Derek,

Hello from Fort Benning!

First of all—thank you for your letter. It was such a nice surprise! Please write me as much as you want, kiddo, I love hearing about what you're doing.

To answer your questions,

Yes—basic training (BCT) is hard work. We wake up at 0500 (5:00 a.m.) and our bedtime is 2130 (9:30 p.m.). In between we do a lot of running, marching, shouting, and push-ups. It is VERY important to listen and follow directions—just like it is for you at school. We have classes, too, so it's kind of like we're going to school together. Pretty cool, huh?

No—I don't have my own bedroom. Instead, I sleep in a very big room with 49 other recruits who are all different ages and come from different backgrounds from all over the country. The guy in the rack (bed) to my right is an 18-year-old from a small town in West Virginia that only has 20 people in it! The recruit on my other side is also 18 but lives in New York City where he is one of millions! Yes—we have been given guns but we have not fired them yet. We are learning how to take care of them first. We take them apart, clean them, and put them back together again and again. They also don't call them guns. They call them rifles. So from now on I will too.

What else can I tell you?

It's very hot here. There's a lot of sand and a lot, LOT of fire ants. Whenever anyone drops a tray in the mess hall (dining room) everyone yells AIRBORNE! It really startled me the first time it happened.

I miss you and Mom very, very much and I think about you all the time. I have to go now, it's almost lights out (bedtime). I'll write every chance I get and you write me, OK?

I LOVE YOU,

Pvt. Dad

I read it again and when I'd finished, it felt like there was something stuck in my throat. I swallowed but it wouldn't go away. I put the letter back in the envelope and the envelope back in the lunch box. Then I picked up the rest of the letters one by one and put them away, too, closing the lid and putting the lunch box back under the bed when I was done. Then I just sat on the floor feeling weird and hollow—almost like I wasn't even there.

I got my chair from under the doorknob and took it to my desk where I got out some paper and a pencil.

Dear Dad,

Hi, how are you? I am fine. School was good today. Can you come home now? That way you would be here for Christmas and you could see me in the play. Mom really misses you and the foldout couch hurts Ant Josie's back. I'll get some tools and fix it. Maybe that will make her less cranky. Do you remember Ms. Dickson? She remembers you.

I remember you too.

Love,

DEREK

I got an envelope from the drawer and folded up the letter and put it in. Then I sealed it with Scotch tape because I hated licking the glue. I carefully wrote the address on the front and then used my special ink pad and stamp that said “Master Derek Lamb” on it for the return address because it looked more official and Dad would know I wasn't fooling around.

A knock at the door made me jump.

“Derek?”

It was Aunt Josie. I didn't say anything because I was still kinda mad. She knocked again only this time it was louder. I still didn't say anything. It didn't feel right not answering her, though. It felt rude and a little bit mean.

“Derek, sweetie? I'm sorry I barked at you.”

“You didn't bark at me.”

“Yes, I did and I'm sorry.”

“That's okay.”

“No, it's not.”

“Um . . . thank you for saying sorry?”

“You're welcome,” she said.

It was quiet for a minute after that. I could picture her in the hallway with one hand on the door, thinking of what to say next.

“Derek?”

“Yes?”

“Can I come in?”

I got up from my chair and went to the door and opened it. Aunt Josie came in and bent down and gave me a hug. She squeezed me tight and her hair tickled my nose. It was blonde this time. So blonde it was almost white.

“You're my boo and I want you to know that I'll be here for you no matter what.”

“Okay.”

Aunt Josie put her hands on my shoulders, looked me right in the eyes, and brushed the hair out of my face with her fingers. Her face was serious.

“Honestly,” she said. “No. Matter. What.”

“Right. Gotcha.”

I nodded, hoping she'd let me go because I could smell garlic bread and garlic bread meant spaghetti and spaghetti was just about my favorite food in the whole universe. My stomach growled.

“What was that?”

“My stomach,” I said.

“
That
was your
stomach
?”

“Uh-huh.”

“You're not hiding a lion under your bed?”

“It was my stomach.”

“Then we'd better put some food in it before it escapes and eats us all.”

I pictured my stomach bursting out of my body. It was all pink and red and slimy and had little arms and legs and a big mouth full of fangs. I imagined it chasing Budgie down the street, snapping at his ankles and growling all the way.

THE SMELL OF COFFEE
woke me up. I reached over and lifted the blind a little and peeked out. The sun was just starting to come up and the world outside the window was full of shadows. I got out of bed and went to my closet and got my slippers and a hoodie sweatshirt and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Mom stood at the counter waiting for the coffeemaker to beep. She was wearing her purple robe and a pair of Dad's slippers. Her hair was wild. I think she may have still been asleep, which would have been something because you could totally hear Aunt Josie snoring in the other room and it was pretty loud.

“Hey, Mom!”

“Hm?”

Mom looked over at me. Her eyes were half-shut and there were dark circles under them.

“Oh! Hi, Piggy. How'd you sleep?”

Her voice was all mumbly but I knew what she said. She'd been saying the exact same thing to me every morning for as long as I could remember.

“Okay, I think,” I said. “How did you sleep?”

“Hm?”

“How did
you
sleep?”

“Not well, sweetie. Not well at all.”

“Maybe you could take a nap later,” I said.

She smiled a little—the kind where it's not really a smile at all.

“Maybe.”

The coffeemaker beeped and Mom got a mug from the drying rack and poured coffee into it. She took it to the table and sat down. I stood there in my slippers and sweatshirt and waited for something else to happen. When it didn't I grabbed the last of the frozen waffles from the freezer and stuck them in the toaster oven and turned it on.

“Breakfast! You need breakfast,” Mom exclaimed suddenly. She got up out of her chair so fast she almost spilled her coffee. “I can't believe I forgot! I'm the worst mother in the world.”

“I don't know, Mom. The world's a pretty big place.”

“Here, what can I get for you? Waffles? Let me get you some waffles.”

She opened the freezer and moved some things around. A bag of frozen chicken nuggets fell out and landed on her foot.

“Dammit! I'm so sorry about this, honey. It's just . . . I've been—where the hell are the waffles already?”

“They're in the toaster. Mom, it's okay.”

“It's not,” she said. “It's really not.”

“They're just waffles.”

“Annie? What's going on?” Aunt Josie stood in the doorway, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

Mom picked up the bag of chicken nuggets and put it back in the freezer and shut the door. Then she leaned her forehead against it and closed her eyes.

“I forgot to fix breakfast for Derek,” she said.

“Come on. Come sit down. Have some coffee,” said Aunt Josie.

She took Mom's arm and sat her down and put the coffee in front of her. Then she sat down also. She looked worried. I wondered if there might be something else going on besides waffles but I didn't know what it was and I didn't think it was a good time to ask. Instead I got a plate from the cabinet and when my waffles were ready I put peanut butter and Marshmallow Fluff on them and took them into the living room to eat in front of cartoons. A little while later I thought I heard my mom cry out. A little while after that I smelled bacon.

Mom came in while I was watching
Dinoboy
. She took the quilt from the back of the couch and unfolded it so it covered both of us. Then she curled up against me with her head on my shoulder and we watched TV for a few minutes like that without saying anything.

“Dinoboy, eh?”

“Yup.”

“And what does he do?”

“Oh, Mom, Dinoboy's so cool! He's this kid who can transform into any dinosaur! He can even be like part one kind and part another like a pterodactyl with the claws of a Therazinosaurus! Plus, did you know the Therazinosaurus was actually an herbivore? He used his claws to pull the leaves down from the trees and for self-defense. I think the Therazinosaurus is my favorite dinosaur or maybe the Compsognathus. He was only the size of a chicken! What's your favorite dinosaur, Mom? Mom?”

But she was asleep so I ended up watching the rest of
Dinoboy
with her leaned up against me. She got heavy after a while and I couldn't really feel my arm anymore but I was afraid to move it because I didn't want to wake her and it wasn't until a rerun of
Ghost Patrol
that she kinda rolled over a little and I was able to get out.

The rest of the morning went by okay. I went to my room and read comics for a while and then I got dressed and put on my jacket and played outside until I got cold. Mom was just getting off the phone when I came into the kitchen.

“Around 1:30 then? And you're sure it's okay?” she asked. “Great! Thanks, Helen!”

I didn't like the sound of that. Helen was Budgie's mom's name.

“Mom?”

“Hey, Piggy! Hungry for lunch?”

She got bread from the drawer and then opened the fridge and found some ham and cheese and mustard and took them out and put them all on the counter. Then she squirted a blob of mustard on a slice of bread and spread it around with a knife.

“Could you do me a favor and smell the ham?” she asked.

“Smell the—why?”

“To make sure it's still good. Oh, never mind. I'll do it.”

She took a slice and held it to her nose and made a face. Then she sniffed it again, shrugged, and put it down on the bread.

“Who was that on the phone?” I asked.

“Budgie's mom,” she said. “And listen, before you freak out—I'm going out with your aunt Josie this afternoon. I called Budgie's mom to see if it would be okay if you went over there to play for a while.”

My heart tumbled into my stomach. Play with Budgie? Budgie? The Dr. Mayhem to my Zeroman? Was she out of her mind?

“You want me to play with Budgie?”

“Yes.”

“But he's my nemesis!”

“No, he's not. You're too young to have a nemesis.”

“He's
mean
to me!”

“I know, Piggy, I'm sorry,” she said. “You two used to get along so well, though. What happened?”

“I don't know. Now he's only nice to me when there's nobody else around and even then he's not
that
nice. He's just . . . less mean.”

It was true. Budgie and I used to be friends. Actually, the summer his family moved to town I was the only friend he had. We did everything together—we made up these awesome superheroes, Strong Guy and Fast Guy, and ran around fighting the Forces of Evil. We read comics and played video games and watched
Dinoboy
together. We made up secret handshakes and were going to build a castle together and keep all the grown-ups out. It was going to be awesome.

Then when school started he met all these other kids and we didn't play together as much. Now we don't play at all. Now he doesn't like me and I don't know why. I've never even done anything to him. He even said that
Dinoboy
was for nerds.

“I'm sorry, sweetie,” Mom said. “I absolutely
hate
that he's mean to you but it would just be the two of you. It's only for a little while, okay? Mommy really needs to get out of the house. Please?”

“Can I come with you?”

“No, honey, you can't. I'm sorry.”

“Please?”

“Sorry.”

“Please!”

“Raising your voice won't change anything,” Mom said. “Now eat your lunch so we can get ready to go.”

I took the sandwich and stomped over to the table. If I was a cartoon I'd have a big, black cloud over my head with lightning coming out of it. That's how mad I was. Mom put away the ham and cheese and mustard and then stood there and watched me eat. I put the hood of my sweatshirt up.

“Stop looking at me,” I said.

“But you're so handsome.”

“Stop it.”

“But I love you.”

“Mo-om!”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Want some chips?”

“Yes, please.”

Mom got the potato chips from the cupboard and shook some onto my plate. I took the top slice of bread off the sandwich and put the chips on the inside. Then I replaced the bread and took a bite. A lot of sandwiches taste better with potato chips in them. Especially boring sandwiches like ham and cheese. Mom sat down across from me.

“Have you told him to stop?” Mom asked.

“Told who to stop what?”

“Budgie. To stop being mean.”

“Yes. No. Not exactly,” I said. “Even when I do tell him to stop he doesn't.”

Mom put her hand on my arm and looked me in the eyes. She frowned.

“I'm sorry your friend is such a jerk, sweetie.”

“Me too.”

* * *

It was weird, though, because that afternoon at his house Budgie wasn't a jerk at all. Actually, it was just like it used to be. We played video games and drew some pictures for the Strong Guy and Fast Guy comic we were going to make. We even talked about plans for the castle. Budgie thought there should be piranhas in the moat and I thought crocodiles would be better so we invented a creature called a piranhadile and figured we'd stock the moat with a few of those bad boys.

We started up Derek and Budgie's Secret Secret Club again and made up a tricky new handshake that took five minutes to do. Then we hung a blanket from the top bunk so it made a fort of the bottom one. We got inside and held the new club's first official meeting where Budgie told me that one time he peed himself at school and tried to hide it by splashing water on his pants and telling everyone the water fountain was broken and had squirted him. I told him about the play and how I had to embrace Violet and how it actually wasn't as bad as I had thought it was going to be. I had been hanging on to that one and it felt good to finally tell someone. We sat quiet for a minute.

“So are you boyfriend and girlfriend?” Budgie finally asked.

“No. I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe.”

“Do you think you'll get married?”

“Probably. Yeah.”

“Y'wanna know something else weird?” I asked.

“Sure,” said Budgie.

“On Fridays her hair smells like apples.”

“What does it smell like on other days?”

“I don't know. Not apples.”

“I don't know what's weirder,” Budgie said. “The fact that her hair only smells like apples on Fridays or that you've taken the time to figure that out.”

We talked about other stuff too for a while—the land-speed capabilities of zombies as affected by stage of decay, for example—and by the time Mom came to pick me up I didn't want to leave.

“Mrs. Lamb, can Derek sleep over?”

“Yeah, Mom, can I?”

“Some other time.”

“But—”

“What would you sleep in? You don't even have a toothbrush.”

“I'll use my finger! Please?”

“Yeah, and he can borrow some of my pajamas,” said Budgie.

“It's not a good idea,” Mom said. “Not tonight. Not on such short notice. I'm sure Budgie's mom—”

“She doesn't care,” said Budgie.

“I suppose it would be okay,” said Budgie's mom.

“You're so nice to offer, Helen, but I don't want to impose any more than I already have. Another time, maybe?”

Budgie's mom just stood there with her arms crossed looking at us. She was kinda smiling but not really.

“Of course.”

“Derek, say thank you,” Mom said.

“What about tomorrow night?” said Budgie.

“Yeah, tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow's a school night,” said my mom and Budgie's mom at the same time.

“Jinx!” said me and Budgie.

“Double jinx!” we said again.

“Derek, say thank you to Mrs. Pratt.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Pratt,” I said. “Bye, Budgie.”

“Yeah, bye,” he said. Then he turned around and went back upstairs.

“Thanks again for looking after Derek,” Mom said. “If there's anything you need, if we could ever . . . you know.”

“Of course,” said Budgie's mom. “Careful on the walk, now. Some of the stones are loose.”

* * *

We had leftover spaghetti for dinner that night, which was totally fine with me even though there wasn't any garlic bread left and we had to have regular bread instead. After dinner I went up to my room and bounced around for a little while, pretending I was Fast Guy fighting crime. Then I drew a picture of the castle me and Budgie were going to build and the moat with a piranhadile in it. The castle was big and had towers that had these little windows you could shoot arrows out of. There was also a roller coaster and a half-pipe for skateboarding. I didn't know how to skateboard and neither did Budgie but I figured by the time we got the castle built we probably would have learned.

I was putting the final touches on the castle when Mom came in. She stood behind me for a minute, looking over my shoulder at the drawing. I had to say it was pretty cool. I'd outdone myself with this one.