فصل 15

15

August’s House

It was already the middle of January, and we still hadn’t even chosen what science-fair project we were going to work on. I guess I kept putting it off because I just didn’t want to do it. Finally, August was like, “Dude, we have to do this.” So we went to his house after school.

I was really nervous because I didn’t know if August had ever told his parents about what we now called the Halloween Incident. Turns out the dad wasn’t even home and the mom was out running errands. I’m pretty sure from the two seconds I’d spent talking to her that Auggie had never mentioned a thing about it. She was super cool and friendly toward me.

When I first walked into Auggie’s room, I was like, “Whoa, Auggie, you have got a serious Star Wars addiction.”

He had ledges full of Star Wars miniatures, and a huge The Empire Strikes Back poster on his wall.

“I know, right?” he laughed.

He sat down on a rolling chair next to his desk and I plopped down on a beanbag chair in the corner. That’s when his dog waddled into the room right up to me.

“He was on your holiday card!” I said, letting the dog sniff my hand.

“She,” he corrected me. “Daisy. You can pet her. She doesn’t bite.”

When I started petting her, she basically just rolled over onto her back.

“She wants you to rub her tummy,” said August.

“Okay, this is the cutest dog I’ve ever seen,” I said, rubbing her stomach.

“I know, right? She’s the best dog in the world. Aren’t you, girlie?”

As soon as she heard Auggie’s voice say that, the dog started wagging her tail and went over to him.

“Who’s my little girlie? Who’s my little girlie?” Auggie was saying as she licked him all over the face.

“I wish I had a dog,” I said. “My parents think our apartment’s too small.” I started looking around at the stuff in his room while he turned on the computer. “Hey, you’ve got an Xbox 360? Can we play?”

“Dude, we’re here to work on the science-fair project.”

“Do you have Halo?”

“Of course I have Halo.”

“Please can we play?”

He had logged on to the Beecher website and was now scrolling down Ms. Rubin’s teacher page through the list of science-fair projects. “Can you see from there?” he said.

I sighed and went to sit on a little stool that was right next to him.

“Cool iMac,” I said.

“What kind of computer do you have?”

“Dude, I don’t even have my own room, much less my own computer. My parents have this ancient Dell that’s practically dead.”

“Okay, how about this one?” he said, turning the screen in my direction so I would look. I made a quick scan of the screen and my eyes literally started blurring.

“Making a sun clock,” he said. “That sounds kind of cool.”

I leaned back. “Can’t we just make a volcano?”

“Everyone makes volcanoes.”

“Duh, because it’s easy,” I said, petting Daisy again.

“What about: How to make crystal spikes out of Epsom salt?”

“Sounds boring,” I answered. “So why’d you call her Daisy?”

He didn’t look up from the screen. “My sister named her. I wanted to call her Darth. Actually, technically speaking, her full name is Darth Daisy, but we never really called her that.”

“Darth Daisy! That’s funny! Hi, Darth Daisy!” I said to the dog, who rolled onto her back again for me to rub her tummy.

“Okay, this one is the one,” said August, pointing to a picture on the screen of a bunch of potatoes with wires poking out of them. “How to build an organic battery made of potatoes. Now, that’s cool. It says here you could power a lamp with it. We could call it the Spud Lamp or something. What do you think?”

“Dude, that sounds way too hard. You know I suck at science.”

“Shut up, you do not.”

“Yeah I do! I got a fifty-four on my last test. I suck at science!”

“No you don’t! And that was only because we were still fighting and I wasn’t helping you. I can help you now. This is a good project, Jack. We’ve got to do it.”

“Fine, whatever.” I shrugged.

Just then there was a knock on the door. A teenage girl with long dark wavy hair poked her head inside the door. She wasn’t expecting to see me.

“Oh, hey,” she said to both of us.

“Hey, Via,” said August, looking back at the computer screen. “Via, this is Jack. Jack, that’s Via.”

“Hey,” I said, nodding hello.

“Hey,” she said, looking at me carefully. I knew the second Auggie said my name that he had told her about the stuff I had said about him. I could tell from the way she looked at me. In fact, the way she looked at me made me think she remembered me from that day at Carvel on Amesfort Avenue all those years ago.

“Auggie, I have a friend I want you to meet, okay?” she said. “He’s coming over in a few minutes.”

“Is he your new boyfriend?” August teased.

Via kicked the bottom of his chair. “Just be nice,” she said, and left the room.

“Dude, your sister’s hot,” I said.

“I know.”

“She hates me, right? You told her about the Halloween Incident?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, she hates me or yeah, you told her about Halloween?”

“Both.” The Boyfriend

Two minutes later the sister came back with this guy named Justin. Seemed like a cool enough dude. Longish hair. Little round glasses. He was carrying a big long shiny silver case that ended in a sharp point on one end.

“Justin, this is my little brother, August,” said Via. “And that’s Jack.”

“Hey, guys,” said Justin, shaking our hands. He seemed a little nervous. I guess maybe it was because he was meeting August for the first time. Sometimes I forget what a shock it is the first time you meet him. “Cool room.”

“Are you Via’s boyfriend?” Auggie asked mischievously, and his sister pulled his cap down over his face.

“What’s in your case?” I said. “A machine gun?”

“Ha!” answered the boyfriend. “That’s funny. No, it’s a, uh … fiddle.”

“Justin’s a fiddler,” said Via. “He’s in a zydeco band.”

“What the heck is a zydeco band?” said Auggie, looking at me.

“It’s a type of music,” said Justin. “Like Creole music.”

“What’s Creole?” I said.

“You should tell people that’s a machine gun,” said Auggie. “Nobody would ever mess with you.”

“Ha, I guess you’re right,” Justin said, nodding and tucking his hair behind his ears. “Creole’s the kind of music they play in Louisiana,” he said to me.

“Are you from Louisiana?” I asked.

“No, um,” he answered, pushing up his glasses. “I’m from Brooklyn.”

I don’t know why this made me want to laugh.

“Come on, Justin,” said Via, pulling him by the hand. “Let’s go hang out in my room.”

“Okay, see you guys later. Bye,” he said.

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

As soon as they left the room, Auggie looked at me, smiling.

“I’m from Brooklyn,” I said, and we both started laughing hysterically. Sometimes I think my head is so big

because it is so full of dreams.

—John Merrick in Bernard Pomerance’s

The Elephant Man Olivia’s Brother

the first time i meet Olivia’s little brother, i have to admit i’m totally taken by surprise.

i shouldn’t be, of course. olivia’s told me about his “syndrome.” has even described what he looks like. but she’s also talked about all his surgeries over the years, so i guess i assumed he’d be more normal-looking by now. like when a kid is born with a cleft palate and has plastic surgery to fix it sometimes you can’t even tell except for the little scar above the lip. i guess i thought her brother would have some scars here and there. but not this. i definitely wasn’t expecting to see this little kid in a baseball cap who’s sitting in front of me right now.

actually there are two kids sitting in front me: one is a totally normal-looking kid with curly blond hair named jack; the other is auggie.

i like to think i’m able to hide my surprise. i hope i do. surprise is one of those emotions that can be hard to fake, though, whether you’re trying to look surprised when you’re not or trying to not look surprised when you are.

i shake his hand. i shake the other kid’s hand. don’t want to focus on his face. cool room, I say.

are you via’s boyfriend? he says. i think he’s smiling.

olivia pushes down his baseball cap.

is that a machine gun? the blond kid asks, like i haven’t heard that one before. and we talk about zydeco for a bit. and then via’s taking my hand and leading me out of the room. as soon as we close the door behind us, we hear them laughing.

i’m from brooklyn! one of them sings.

olivia rolls her eyes as she smiles. let’s go hang out in my room, she says.

we’ve been dating for two months now. i knew from the moment i saw her, the minute she sat down at our table in the cafeteria, that i liked her. i couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. really beautiful. with olive skin and the bluest eyes i’ve ever seen in my life. at first she acted like she only wanted to be friends. i think she kind of gives off that vibe without even meaning to. stay back. don’t even bother. she doesn’t flirt like some other girls do. she looks you right in the eye when she talks to you, like she’s daring you. so i just kept looking her right in the eye, too, like i was daring her right back. and then i asked her out and she said yes, which rocked.

she’s an awesome girl and i love hanging out with her.

she didn’t tell me about august until our third date. i think she used the phrase “a craniofacial abnormality” to describe his face. or maybe it was “craniofacial anomaly.” i know the one word she didn’t use was “deformed,” though, because that word would have registered with me.

so, what did you think? she asks me nervously the second we’re inside her room. are you shocked?

no, i lie.

she smiles and looks away. you’re shocked.

i’m not, i assure her. he’s just like what you said he’d be.

she nods and plops down on her bed. kind of cute how she still has a lot of stuffed animals on her bed. she takes one of them, a polar bear, without thinking and puts it in her lap.

i sit down on the rolling chair by her desk. her room is immaculate.

when i was little, she says, there were lots of kids who never came back for a second playdate. i mean, lots of kids. i even had friends who wouldn’t come to my birthdays because he would be there. they never actually told me this, but it would get back to me. some people just don’t know how to deal with auggie, you know?

i nod.

it’s not even like they know they’re being mean, she adds. they were just scared. i mean, let’s face it, his face is a little scary, right?

i guess, i answer.

but you’re okay with it? she asks me sweetly. you’re not too freaked out? or scared?

i’m not freaked out or scared. i smile.

she nods and looks down at the polar bear on her lap. i can’t tell whether she believes me or not, but then she gives the polar bear a kiss on the nose and tosses it to me with a little smile. i think that means she believes me. or at least that she wants to. Valentine’s Day

i give olivia a heart necklace for valentine’s day, and she gives me a messenger bag she’s made out of old floppy disks. very cool how she makes things like that. earrings out of pieces of circuit boards. dresses out of t-shirts. bags out of old jeans. she’s so creative. i tell her she should be an artist someday, but she wants to be a scientist. a geneticist, of all things. she wants to find cures for people like her brother, i guess.

we make plans for me to finally meet her parents. a mexican restaurant on amesfort avenue near her house on saturday night.

all day long i’m nervous about it. and when i get nervous my tics come out. i mean, my tics are always there, but they’re not like they used to be when i was little: nothing but a few hard blinks now, the occasional head pull. but when i’m stressed they get worse—and i’m definitely stressing about meeting her folks.

they’re waiting inside when i get to the restaurant. the dad gets up and shakes my hand, and the mom gives me a hug. i give auggie a hello fist-punch and kiss olivia on the cheek before i sit down.

it’s so nice to meet you, justin! we’ve heard so much about you!

her parents couldn’t be nicer. put me at ease right away. the waiter brings over the menus and i notice his expression the moment he lays eyes on august. but i pretend not to notice. i guess we’re all pretending not to notice things tonight. the waiter. my tics. the way august crushes the tortilla chips on the table and spoons the crumbs into his mouth. i look at olivia and she smiles at me. she knows. she sees the waiter’s face. she sees my tics. olivia is a girl who sees everything.

we spend the entire dinner talking and laughing. olivia’s parents ask me about my music, how i got into the fiddle and stuff like that. and i tell them about how i used to play classical violin but I got into appalachian folk music and then zydeco. and they’re listening to every word like they’re really interested. they tell me to let them know the next time my band’s playing a gig so they can come listen.

i’m not used to all the attention, to be truthful. my parents don’t have a clue about what I want to do with my life. they never ask. we never talk like this. i don’t think they even know i traded my baroque violin for an eight-string hardanger fiddle two years ago.

after dinner we go back to olivia’s for some ice cream. their dog greets us at the door. an old dog. super sweet. she’d thrown up all over the hallway, though. olivia’s mom rushes to get paper towels while the dad picks the dog up like she’s a baby.

what’s up, ol’ girlie? he says, and the dog’s in heaven, tongue hanging out, tail wagging, legs in the air at awkward angles.

dad, tell justin how you got daisy, says olivia.

yeah! says auggie.

the dad smiles and sits down in a chair with the dog still cradled in his arms. it’s obvious he’s told this story lots of times and they all love to hear it.

so i’m coming home from the subway one day, he says, and a homeless guy i’ve never seen in this neighborhood before is pushing this floppy mutt in a stroller, and he comes up to me and says, hey, mister, wanna buy my dog? and without even thinking about it, i say sure, how much you want? and he says ten bucks, so i give him the twenty dollars i have in my wallet and he hands me the dog. justin, i’m telling you, you’ve never smelled anything so bad in your life! she stank so much i can’t even tell you! so i took her right from there to the vet down the street and then i brought her home.

didn’t even call me first, by the way! the mom interjects as she cleans the floor, to see if i’m okay with his bringing home some homeless guy’s dog.

the dog actually looks over at the mom when she says this, like she understands everything everyone is saying about her. she’s a happy dog, like she knows she lucked out that day finding this family.

i kind of know how she feels. i like olivia’s family. they laugh a lot.

my family’s not like this at all. my mom and dad got divorced when i was four and they pretty much hate each other. i grew up spending half of every week in my dad’s apartment in chelsea and the other half in my mom’s place in brooklyn heights. i have a half brother who’s five years older than me and barely knows i exist. for as long as i can remember, i’ve felt like my parents could hardly wait for me to be old enough to take care of myself. “you can go to the store by yourself.” “here’s the key to the apartment.” it’s funny how there’s a word like overprotective to describe some parents, but no word that means the opposite. what word do you use to describe parents who don’t protect enough? underprotective? neglectful? self-involved? lame? all of the above.

olivia’s family tell each other “i love you” all the time.

i can’t remember the last time anyone in my family said that to me.

by the time i go home, my tics have all stopped. OUR TOWN

we’re doing the play our town for the spring show this year. olivia dares me to try out for the lead role, the stage manager, and somehow i get it. total fluke. never got any lead roles in anything before. i tell olivia she brings me good luck. unfortunately, she doesn’t get the female lead, emily gibbs. the pink-haired girl named miranda gets it. olivia gets a bit part and is also the emily understudy. i’m actually more disappointed than olivia is. she almost seems relieved. i don’t love people staring at me, she says, which is sort of strange coming from such a pretty girl. a part of me thinks maybe she blew her audition on purpose.

the spring show is at the end of april. it’s mid-march now, so that’s less than six weeks to memorize my part. plus rehearsal time. plus practicing with my band. plus finals. plus spending time with olivia. it’s going to be a rough six weeks, that’s for sure. mr. davenport, the drama teacher, is already manic about the whole thing. will drive us crazy by the time it’s over, no doubt. i heard through the grapevine that he’d been planning on doing the elephant man but changed it to our town at the last minute, and that change took a week off of our rehearsal schedule.

not looking forward to the craziness of the next month and a half.