INTRIGUING FACT: The most poisonous animals on earth are often the most colorful. Why? Because they want to be seen. That way predators have to eat only a couple of them before their buddies go, “Hang on. If I eat this colorful dart frog/coral snake/monarch butterfly, I’m going to die a very painful death, just like my buddy Bob!” Pretty soon everyone knows to leave them alone.
Alberta is a human version of the dart frog. You can’t help but notice her; but you learn very quickly that she’s toxic.
Like today in Home Ec. I sat at the sewing machine facing hers. Alberta was wearing a cut-off jean skirt with green-and-white striped tights underneath and a powder blue T-shirt with a picture of a tabby cat in a sweater, playing the piano. On her head was a red beret.
“Okay, class,” said Mrs. Bardus, “today we’re going to use the sewing machine to finish our tote bags.” For the past few classes, we’ve been cutting out fabric and using fabric paint to create designs. I painted a bunch of tulips. Alberta painted a skull and crossbones.
As per usual, she acted like I wasn’t even there, but then her thread got tangled up in the bobbin. “Hey, new guy,” she said. “Help.”
No “please,” no nothing. But my mother raised me to be a gentleman. I got up and moved around to her station. She didn’t even nudge over an inch or anything, which meant that as I was showing her how to rethread her machine, I was forced to breathe in the scent of her hair. (It smelled like tropical fruits. But still.)
I sat back down. “Next time, you’ll be able to do it yourself,” I told her. “And the name’s Henry.”
She didn’t answer. Not even a thank-you.
Rude.
A good five minutes later, she said, “Where did you learn to sew?” It took me a moment to realize she was talking to me.
“My mom taught me the basics a couple of years ago. So I could make my own Halloween costume.”
“What was the costume?”
My ears prickled, and I was pretty sure they were turning pink. “Captain Underpants.”
She laughed. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-HEEE-haw.” It was like machine-gun fire, followed by a donkey’s bray. “What was it, a giant pair of Y-fronts?”
“Better than that,” I said. “It was a flesh-colored one-piece. With buttons for the nipples and belly button. I stuffed it full of pillows, then we bought an enormous pair of underwear to put over top.”
“Awesome,” she said, and I actually think she meant it. “Who are you going to give your tote bag to?”
“My mom.”
“I’m going to give mine to my older sister,” she said. “ ’Cause it’s ugly, like her.” Then she smiled and looked right at me, and it was the first time I noticed she had a lazy eye.
“What’s your sister’s name?” I asked.
“Ontario.”
“Seriously?”
“No. Her name’s Cricket.”
“Stop.”
“I poop you not. Mom got to choose her name, and her favorite soap-opera character on ‘The Young and the Restless’ was called Cricket.” She sighed. “Yup. We are total white trash.”
“Who picked your name?”
“My dad. They were living in Fort McMurray, Alberta, when I was – you know – conceived.” She pretended to gag.
“Look on the bright side. At least they didn’t call you Fort McMurray. And at least you weren’t conceived in Newfoundland.”
She laughed again. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-HEEE-haw!”
It was kind of adorable.
In Port Salish, everyone thought I had a crush on Jodie. But they didn’t understand that Jodie and I just got each other. We both secretly wanted to be contestants on a show called “Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?” even though we mocked the show all the time and dubbed it “Are You Smarter Than a Cheese Grater?” We still liked playing with Lego, even though we knew we were too old. And we loved exploring the tide pools together by the ocean’s edge at low tide. I still remember the day we found a perfect sand dollar. Perfect! Not a fragment missing, not even a crack. I let Jodie keep it because she’d been having a bad day.
Then my brother did what he did.
I saw Jodie just once after that.
I walked to her house about a week after IT happened. I don’t know how I got up the guts to do that. It wasn’t bravery, that’s for sure. You know when you’re having a bad dream and part of you knows it’s a dream and that part of you is shouting, It’s just a dream! Wake up! But you don’t wake up – you just keep having the nightmare? That’s what it felt like as I walked to her house. A part of my brain kept shouting, Abort mission! Abort mission! But it was like I was sleepwalking. I just kept going.
Jodie answered the door. She looked terrible. Her face was blotchy and red, and her eyes were puffy from crying. I know I looked just as bad.
We stared at each other, and for a moment I really thought we were going to fall into each other’s arms and blubber like a couple of babies.
But then Mr. Marlin appeared behind her. His enormous frame filled the doorway. “What the hell are you doing here?” he shouted, his eyes bulging out of his head. “Stay away from my family! Stay away from my daughter!”
Then he slammed the door in my face.
After that, I pretty much stayed inside.
I think that’s when my wobblies started to grow.
I guess that’s when my furies started to grow, too.
I know Jodie’s address. Sometimes I think about writing to her, but what would I say? Seen any good starfish lately? Sorry my brother killed your brother?
Yeah, no.
Just before dismissal time, Mrs. Bardus walked around the room, checking out everyone’s sewing. She held up Alberta’s and said, “This is a fine example of shoddy workmanship. However, Henry’s here is nicely done.”
Alberta just scowled. Then the bell rang.
“How come you weren’t at the Reach For The Top practices last week?” she said as we gathered up our stuff.
I shrugged. “Farley dragged me there that one time. I never said I was joining.”
Alberta looked at me. Well, one eye looked at me. The other one looked somewhere over my shoulder. “Let me guess. You think it’s too nerdy.”
“Did you see the kids in that room?”
“So? Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
I confess: That hurt. “Why did you join?” I asked her.
“You don’t seem –”
“Nerdy enough?”
I was going to say smart enough, but I didn’t.
“Here’s the thing about Reach For The Top,” she said as we walked out of class. “It’s so nerdy, it’s crossed back over into cool.”
I snorted.
“Hey, whatevs. If you want to stop yourself from doing something fun ’cause you’re afraid of what other people might think, that is totally your beeswax.” Then she walked away. The green-and-white striped tights only made her big thighs look bigger.
They looked spectacular.