All afternoon and into the night, I expect to get a call from Mr. DiMartino. If that’s who that was, he’s known both of us for a long time. Even if he didn’t get a good look at my face through the window, there’s a decent chance he’d recognize our backs.
Over more or less the same time frame, our failure sinks in. The court date is less than a week away now. I watch a movie called White Fang with JR while I’m waiting for Mom to get home. It’s about a half wolf, half dog in Alaska or somewhere like that.
“At least you’re not half wolf,” I say to JR.
He looks back at me with his enormous black-and-brown head.
“Half bear, maybe,” I say, but White Fang is back on the screen and JR is mesmerized. His reactions to seeing dogs on TV are hilarious. It’s like he suspects they aren’t real, but he still can’t help turning his head every which way to look at them, raising his ears, and sometimes even barking.
It’s not as funny today, since I feel like I might’ve just gotten him killed, or at least failed to prevent it. I’m 100 percent out of ideas now, and nothing comes to me during the movie. Well, moving to Alaska maybe, but that doesn’t seem likely.
Mom gets home a little late, but if anyone called her at work about me, she doesn’t say so. She’s steering clear because she knows I’m in a horrible mood. She is too, and JR is upset because we are, which just makes it worse. We have grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for dinner, as if one of us is sick.
Rudy calls after that. This is still a crazy adventure to him, and he wants to relive it blow by blow, stall by stall. I understand: It’s a lot of excitement for a Wednesday. He does most of the recap. Every once in a while, he’ll say, “You know?” or “Remember?” and I’ll say, “Yeah, yeah” or “Man” or “Totally.”
“Well, all right then,” he says, wrapping it up. “Guess I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”
“I guess so.”
We’d definitely cut school again, if we had any idea what to do with the time. Detention, we’ll risk. Getting shot in the back, that’s where we draw the line.
“Thanks again, man,” I say.
“No problemo,” he says and hangs up.
I head to my computer for another round of useless Googling. My chat box launches from my home page, and I see the bubble next to Rudy’s name turn green at the same moment mine does. Don’t chat too much, dude, I think, but honestly, I don’t even care much at this point.
I search dog bite cases for a while, looking for some trick or technicality. But if anything, these cases are even worse than the ones with the broken skylight and hot tea. There’s one where an old man was attacked on his own porch, his dog bit the attacker, and the dog wound up getting put to sleep. There’s another where a dog was taken away from a family and killed just for being a pit bull in the wrong city — not for doing anything but for being something. I see that phrase again, bully breed, but it’s pretty clear the dog isn’t the bully in this one.
Pretty soon, I’ve had enough and start playing Kastle Keep. It’s a build-your-empire game where you complete random empire-related tasks, like “construct battlement,” by clicking on buttons. It calms me down. Plus, I’m almost at level five hundred.
An hour later, it’s pitch-dark out and I am at level five hundred. That’s pretty impressive, considering I didn’t play it at all this summer. We were barely ever allowed online in there, and who’s going to spend all that time earning a half hour at the computer just to waste it building a fake empire? That would be sad even by juvie standards. This game is the opposite: for people spending too much time online.
I’ve got nothing better to do, since I don’t know what my homework is. In fact, when Janie pops up on chat, I’m pretty sure that’s what it’s about. I figure she’s going to give me the English homework or warn me about a quiz or something like that. Then I figure she’ll give me trouble about ditching school while most of the class is probably still talking about me. It’s kind of true too: If you want to let a fire build, you give it space and fuel.
As with pretty much everything I’ve been sure about lately, I’m completely wrong.
Hey, she writes.
Is 4 horses, I write.
Technically that’s one of “our things” and maybe I shouldn’t be doing it right now. Then again, it might be bad if I don’t.
Where were you? And Rudy?
Trying something
Did it work?
No. Almost got killed.
Melodramatic much?
No srsly
There’s a long pause and then Janie is typing: What were you trying?
I’ve heard of chat transcripts being used in court. I don’t think Janie would ever do that to me, but I can definitely see my hard drive ending up in court someday. And my Internet provider probably has my records ready to go on a day-to-day basis.
It was about Mars.
He was in school.
Talking all day?
Seems like it
Great
Long pause. JD is typing: We tried to get something on him.
That could mean anything, right? Probably shouldn’t have used we. Sorry, dude.
Like what?
Doesn’t matter. Didn’t happen.
Bummer. Can you just talk to him?
That’s such a girl thing to say.
Didn’t work. He’s immune.
Goo pt, she types. Good point. I love her typos, and she has never liked Mars. It was actually kind of a problem early on for us. She definitely won that argument.
So what did you do?
Can’t say
OK
We tried to get something on him, like some leverage. I shouldn’t have typed that, but I sort of want her to say that it was a good idea, that I wasn’t being a total idiot.
Like something /incriminating/ :o
Maybe. We tried to get to him but we can’t b/c he doesn’t care. And his family is heavily armed.
I know how 2 get 2 Mars…. she types.
How????
Long pause. Janie is typing: Go to Venus, turn left.
Not funny!
Srry
We are going to lose house and dog! Not funny! There’s a 90 percent chance that’s 50 percent true, but I really need her to know how not funny that was.
Long pause. Now I feel bad. JD is typing: Sorry. Frustrated.
It’s OK.
You know how Mars is. He won’t listen to anyone. Excpet
Aaron maybe.
I spot the typo after I send it. I don’t like to have typos of my own with her, and this one looks sort of like ex pet. And as I’m having that world-shaking thought, she does some real thinking.
Can you get 2 Aaron?
I just look at it for a few seconds. I hadn’t thought of that. It’s like math: If A can get to B and B can get to C, then A can get to C. Because the thing about Aaron, apart from him being bigger and probably smarter than me, is that you can talk to him. You can reason with him. His brain works. And this isn’t a word I use often, but if that’s the case, maybe his heart does, too.
Thanks! I type. You’re an angel.
I know, she writes. Then a little smiley face with wings and a halo pops up on the next line.
Ha! I didn’t know you had that.
You never called me that before.
I’m an ass. She waits just long enough for me to realize it and then her chat bubble disappears: Janie is no longer available…. But Rudy is. This time we plan without all the caffeine.