Chapter 15
“Shouldn’t Take Long”
I try to shake off the conversation with Fletch and the Clones. But it’s still ringing in my head when we get to Geezer’s place.
Lucas is standing propped against the door frame with his crutches. We’d already be inside if he’d just give me the key. But over the last four weeks, I’ve learned to let him do it.
When we finally get inside, Geezer is pulled up on his brown leather easy chair. It looks almost as beaten-up as Geezer does. He snaps to attention when we walk through the door.
“Having a nap?” I ask.
“Hell, no.” Geezer clears his throat. “I got no time for that.”
Jeez. So taking a nap is a sign of weakness. It feels like time to change the subject. “Are you still getting that cast off next week?”
“Yeah,” Geezer says. “About time.”
“Cool. What do you need me to do today? More laundry? Vacuuming?” I ask as I tidy the shoes in the landing. “I bet you’ll miss me here after this week. It must’ve been pretty sweet having your own personal servant.” I say it carefully, with a smile on my face, so he knows I’m joking. Or at least, mostly joking.
“Yeah,” Geezer grumbles. “All it cost me was a broken ankle and a trashed shed.” He mumbles something else, too. I’m pretty sure he called me a ‘little shithead.’ But this time he didn’t sound angry.
“You can start with bathroom detail,” he says. “Shouldn’t take long.”
He always says that. Shouldn’t take long. Even when a job does take long.
I give the mirrors a quick wipe down. Then I hold my breath and try not to gag while I clean the toilet. I slosh lots of Pine-Sol around the sink and the bathtub so the room smells fresh. Geezer doesn’t exactly look that closely. That should do it.
Geezer watches me step out of the bathroom. “Done,” I say.
“Good,” he replies. “Now go back in and scrub up. You’ve got some more cooking to do.”
At least that sounds better than toilet-brush duty.
“What am I making you today?” I ask.
“Scones,” Geezer says. “You know — tea biscuits. To go with the leftover chicken stew.”
“Oh. Okay.” My main chore yesterday was making them chicken stew for dinner. “How was the stew?” I ask.
“It wasn’t half bad.” Geezer lifts himself out of his chair and stomps into the kitchen. He pulls out a splattered, ancient cookbook from a shelf.
“When you make scones,” he says, “you need to use a light hand. Otherwise the biscuits end up so tough you could break a tooth on them.”
Lucas comes into the kitchen too. He smiles while Geezer bosses me around about mixing the dry ingredients first. Then blending in the shortening. Then dumping the buttermilk in all at once.
“You don’t mix it like that,” Geezer says. “Remember what I said about a light hand? You’re handling the dough too much.”
“Then how do I get everything mixed together?” I shove the dough at him. “Here. You do it.”
Geezer gives it a few flicks with his wrist and suddenly all the dry, crumbly bits are mixed in. “It’s like I said.” He flashes me his hideous grin. “A light hand.”
I put the biscuits on a baking tray and pop them into the oven. “Who taught you how to do that?” I ask.
“My late wife.”
His late wife? I turn away from Geezer. I start wiping the counter.
I think about the photo hanging in the living room. About the woman with the brown-grey hair and the blue eyes. She looks like she was starting to laugh when someone snapped the picture. I’ve looked at it lots of times over the past few weeks. I’ve thought about asking who it was, but I didn’t know if that would be okay. I still don’t know for sure but —
“So the picture out there —” I point toward the living room.
Geezer nods. “Yes. My darling Kathleen.”
Then neither of us says anything.
While I’m washing the mixing bowl, I start thinking about Geezer being married to someone. I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised about that since he’s a grandfather. And now I’m wondering why Lucas is living with Geezer. He wouldn’t be my first choice. Then again with Mom out of the picture, I’m not getting my first choice either.
I check the oven clock while I finish wiping the counter. It’s time for me to leave.
“Hang on,” Geezer says. “The scones are nearly done. You can take some home. Test them out yourself. That way if you break a tooth, it’s your own damn fault.”
He points toward a kitchen drawer. “Grab a paper plate.” I hand one to him and he transfers some of the hot scones onto it.
“Do you need me to warm up the chicken stew before I take off?” I ask.
“Yep,” he says. “Put that casserole dish into the microwave and set it for six minutes. Lucas and me — we’ll take it from there.”
Aunt Sarah and the twins are surprised when I show up with warm, homemade biscuits. I still can’t believe Geezer can make something this good. I think back to when Mom and I lived together. We never made anything homemade at all — like with actual ingredients.
Carter interrupts my thoughts. “This so yummy!”
“Maybe I can show you how to make them someday,” I say.
“Yes!” Carter and Lawson are both jumping on their chairs.
“But,” I say, “you have to mix everything together with a light hand. Otherwise the biscuits get too hard. You don’t want to break a tooth when you’re eating them, right?”
“No!” Lawson stuffs his hand into his mouth and starts feeling his teeth.
“And leave me a few, okay?” I say. “I want some for later when I’m studying.”
The unit test I have coming up in Biology messes with my head for the rest of the week. It’s been a while since I’ve needed to learn this much stuff. Plus, I never used to study for tests. I just went in cold and took my chances.
It doesn’t settle my nerves at all when I spot Fletch and the Clones while I’m at my locker. They keep muttering about me disrespecting them and their future gang brothers. Of course, they say it just loud enough that I can’t miss it while I’m on my way to class. I try to ignore them. Right now, I need to focus on Bio. Once I’m farther into the course, Finn wants me to start Grade Eleven Business too.
Finn knows I’ve been nervous about the test. He helped me make study cards earlier this week. We’re going to get some extra practice in before I take the test. That means I’ll be leaving school later than usual today. This is also my last day to get Lucas home and to help out at Geezer’s house. At first, I wasn’t sure how that would work. But then Geezer said he’d pick up Lucas after school himself. I’ll go help out at his house after I’ve finished the exam.
I try to block everything out while I read over the test questions. So far, it’s going okay. I try not to freak out when I hit some harder questions. I’ll come back to those later. By the time I’ve answered the easier questions and doubled back to the harder ones, I’ve calmed down a bit. Even if I screw up on some of them, I’m pretty sure I’ll still pass. I might even get a decent mark.
I read over my answers one last time like Finn told me to. By then, I’m ready to leave. It’s way too quiet in here without Slater snapping his gum, and without Nina announcing whenever the alien goth child backflips across her bladder.
“I’m done,” I tell Finn.
“That’s great,” he smiles. “We’ll have the results soon. You studied hard for that, Zaine. You should be proud of yourself.”
I’m not used to people saying nice things about me. My face burns bright red. “Better wait until we get the mark back,” I say. “See you tomorrow.”
I drop off some stuff at my locker. I’m heading toward the main entrance when I hear voices. One belongs to Fletch. I’m sure his clones are nearby too.
Then I hear Lucas. What’s that about?
I turn down the hallway. What I see makes me feel sick to my stomach.