Chapter 20

A NIGHT AT THE BRICK

“Cheers!” I said.

Jessica’s glass of Sprite clinked with my root beer. She looked out from our booth at the wooden tabletops and brick walls. Some guys at the bar were arguing about a game on the TV. “This is, uh, nice,” she said.

“Hey, it may not be fancy but wait until you try a Freddy Burger. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted one!”

“What’s so special about it?”

“Who knows? It comes with ketchup, mustard, pickles, relish, mayonnaise, onions, and cheese, but just knowing the ingredients doesn’t mean anyone can make it. My dad tried to duplicate it once. It tasted like a shoe.”

She laughed. “I didn’t know you ate shoes.”

“Ah yeah, delicious.”

I was having a great time with Jessica. It felt like I was finally picking up where I had left off with her before heading to summer camp.

The waitress who had brought our drinks came back to the table. “You kids finish deciding yet?”

“Sure,” Jessica said, putting down the menu, “I’ll have a Freddy Burger. And hold the mayonnaise, please.”

“How do you want it cooked?”

“Well done.”

“I’ll have the same,” I said, “but make mine medium rare.”

The waitress nodded and walked off.

“You like it bloody?” Jessica asked.

“I prefer to think of it as juicy. And what’s with the well done? You’d probably like my dad’s shoe recipe,” I teased. It was fun to joke around with her. “Besides, I like mayonnaise.”

“That’s just gross,” she said. She took a sip of her Sprite. “Actually, I kind of figured you were going to take me to Mama’s tonight.”

It had been exactly a week since the grand opening. “I’ve decided to leave Mama’s behind,” I explained.

She nodded. “Probably a good idea. That owner seemed real bossy. What was his name again?”

“Uh, the Boss.”

“Yeah, a real mean guy.”

I wasn’t sure about that. When Pablo had gone back to pick up his bike the next morning, he said the Boss had talked to him for like an hour. Pablo told him all about how he wanted to be an artist and about the art school that gave lessons on Saturdays. The Boss told him stuff about when he was growing up, and how tough it was without money. Three days later a letter arrived at Pablo’s house. Someone had paid for him to go to the art school for a whole year.

“Okay, Rodney,” Jessica continued, “so you’re leaving the restaurant business. What now? Football season is over. Mrs. Lutzkraut is . . . well I don’t know where she is, but I doubt she’ll be bothering you again.”

I didn’t say anything. I knew deep down Mrs. Lutzkraut wasn’t going anywhere.

Jessica asked again, “So then what’s next for you?”

I was sure I could count on Rishi to get me in trouble before long, but I also kept that thought to myself. I got the feeling Jessica wanted to hear something else from me—and I couldn’t wait to tell her. “Well, there’s this girl I like. Maybe I could spend more time with her.”

She smirked. “Who is this girl?”

“She’s blonde . . .”

“Yeah?”

“And she’s got blue eyes . . .”

“Yeah?”

“And the happiest day of my life was when she kissed me last year after graduation.”

A man three tables away dropped his newspaper sharply. Mr. Clearwater stared at me and I tightened up. Uh-oh, I had forgotten he was there.

“Daaad,” Jessica whined, “Rodney was only kidding.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just kidding!”

He let out a breath and went back to his paper.

For the next few minutes Jessica and I limited the conversation to Kayla and Rishi and other silly stuff. Finally the waitress returned with our Freddy Burgers. I saw in a second that Jessica would be happy. I, on the other hand, couldn’t believe my eyes. Both burgers were burnt to a crisp.

“I asked for medium rare!” I cried. I had never seen them mess up an order before.

The waitress looked concerned. “I’m sorry about that, honey. We just hired two new guys in the kitchen and everything they touch comes out horrible. I would offer to get you a new burger but it would probably be even worse.” She turned to leave, adding, “One of them keeps bragging that all he cooks is eggs. We don’t even serve eggs!”

“Do you know their names?” I asked, although I was pretty certain I knew the answer.

“Let’s see . . . one is called Woodchuck or something and the other one is Big . . . Big . . .”

“Big Earl?”

“Yeah, I believe you’re right. Are they friends of yours?”

“Not exactly,” I said.

“Well, let me know if you need anything else.” She smiled, gave a check to whoever was sitting in the booth behind Jessica, and disappeared to the front of the restaurant.

I stared at my plate and shook my head. For days I had been looking forward to a Freddy Burger. I imagined Mrs. Lutzkraut watching me through a big crystal ball and laughing. She had gotten Mama’s cooks fired last Saturday and her evil was still causing me problems. “I hate well-done burgers,” I complained.

Jessica giggled. “Look at tough Rodney Rathbone . . . ready to cry over a burger!”

I smiled at her. “Maybe I’m not that tough after all.”

“Yeah, right,” she said.

“Maybe I got everyone fooled.”

She began speaking to me in a tone like a kindergarten teacher. “Rodney, we don’t have to go through all your tough-guy adventures. I mean, the whole town knows you took out Josh on your very first day last year.”

“It wasn’t me,” I answered back. “It was a baseball. It hit him in the nose and rolled under a bush. Nobody saw it.”

“A baseball?” she laughed. “Who’d ever believe something so ridiculous?”

I shrugged. She was right. If an author had used that in a book they’d never be taken seriously.

Jessica continued, “Besides, I saw you fight Josh with my own eyes. Remember when you gave him a karate kick at the end-of-year dance?”

“I slipped on the wet floor.”

“What about the time you took me off that ravine in that big sled? What about the McThuggs? What about Old Man Johnson?”

She was recounting all my daring acts from last year.

“All luck,” I said.

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, then what about at summer camp? When I came up that day, everyone kept talking about how you won all the competitions and beat that snotty rich kid. What was his name again?”

“Todd Vanderdick.” Just thinking of his name made me want to puke. “He had it in for me from the first day of camp,” I explained. “It only got worse when I stopped his dumb father from developing Camp Wy-Mee. But I’m telling you, Jessica, it was luck that I beat him. My canoe took a wrong turn.”

It felt great to finally be getting everything off my chest.

“Okay, if you really are telling the truth, why are you telling me?”

I looked into her big blue eyes. I was about to tell her that I liked her so much that it didn’t matter if she knew I was secretly a coward. As I went to open my mouth I thought, This might be the happiest moment of my life.

“Yes, Rodney,” a kid’s voice snickered from the booth in back of Jessica, “why are you telling her?”

My heart started pounding. I knew that voice from somewhere. I saw two legs swing around from the booth as the person started to rise. In a flash I noticed pink socks under fancy brown pants. As the figure rose I saw a yellow shirt followed by—Todd Vanderdick! He looked down at me and sneered. “Actually, my dad and I would both like to know.”

I felt the restaurant begin to spin. My ears were ringing. I was about to faint. This couldn’t be happening. Todd Vanderdick and his father—dressed in matching outfits—were now standing at the side of our booth. And they had just heard me confess everything to Jessica! Todd looked at her and introduced himself. “I’m the snotty rich kid you mentioned.”

“Uh, pleased to meet you.”

“My dad’s buying me a red Ferrari when I turn sixteen.”

“That’s nice,” she said, smiling politely.

I tried to speak. “Wha . . . Wha . . . What are you doing in Garrettsville?”

“Oh, we’ll be spending a lot of time here,” Mr. Vanderdick announced with a sickening grin. “I’m funding construction of the new Business Studies Center at Hiram College. Just five minutes from here. They’re naming it Vanderdick Hall . . . and my company’s building it. Why, it’s almost like Todd and I will be moving to Garrettsville!”

“Yeah,” Todd said directly to me, “and I can’t wait to meet your friends and tell them everything I just learned about you.”

My perfect date with Jessica had turned into a perfect nightmare. Things couldn’t get any worse in my life. I had finally hit rock bottom.

“Actually, Todd,” Mr. Vanderdick said with a sly grin, “I believe our friend Helga Lutzkraut had Rodney as a student last year. I’m sure she would be only too happy to help you locate his friends. Heck, she probably knows his enemies as well!”

You could hear the two of them laughing all the way out to the parking lot. I stared down at the table. When would I ever learn? I always underestimated just how low rock bottom can get.

And then I heard a girl’s voice that reminded me just how lucky I was. “What creeps!” Jessica laughed. “They were even worse than I pictured! And what’s with those loafers they both had on?”

I had to smile.

“Listen, Rodney,” she continued, “I wouldn’t worry about that jerk Todd. If he comes around again he’ll be laughed right out of town.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed with her, but it sure felt great knowing she was trying to make me feel better. And it was working. For the next ten minutes all we did was make fun of Todd and his fake rich accent. By the time Jessica and her dad and I were ready to leave, I was feeling pretty good—considering Todd Vanderdick was back in my life.

As we passed the kitchen and walked outside I heard a loud banging of pots and pans followed by, “What do you mean we’re fired? You can’t fire us! We’s is respected chefs!”

I looked up at the gigantic autumn moon hanging over the town and smiled. Just another night in Garrettsville.