24. Corny and Cute

“Hey, Jocelyn.”

“Hi. Didn’t know you had my telephone number.”

“Yeah. Hope you don’t mind me calling. It’s just—something came up.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, it’s actually kinda weird, but—I was bitten by a big rabid dog that, if you want to know the truth, was possessed, too. Anyway, I went to the doctor late last night—had to actually go to his house, if you can believe that—and, well, I was given only a few hours to live. Sorry.”

“That’s crazy. That doesn’t make sense.”

“About the possessed dog?”

“No—about how you got this number.”

“Yeah, well, anyway, Jocelyn, I just wanted to say—I know that I’m about to go to a cheesy dance with the hottest girl in school. And I know that it’s just so ironic, not being able to go cause I’ve got rabies and am going to die.”

“Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“Getting rabies and dying?”

“No. How you got this number.”

Then the crazy dream I’m having vanishes in the dark like the dog from last night.

I open my eyes and see the wood ceiling above me.

It’s Saturday morning, and I’m still alive.

Still planning on going to the big dance tonight.

Still going with the hottest girl in the school.

Not ready to die anytime soon.

And still without Jocelyn’s phone number in my possession.

I’m pretty much useless on Saturday. I keep thinking I’m going to get a phone call—a real one, that is—from Jocelyn telling me something’s come up.

I ride my bike to downtown Solitary, thinking and hoping I’ll run into Jocelyn again. No such luck. Instead I get a hundred looks that all seem to say, Go away. Go back where you came from. I don’t stay in the town long.

I spend most of the afternoon in my room listening to music. The bandage on my foot is tight and secure. If it didn’t impact my bike riding, I’m sure it won’t affect my dancing.

Mom eventually comes in to check on me.

“Everything okay?”

I nod, turning down the music.

“I haven’t heard these guys in years,” she says, picking up the Tears for Fears album The Hurting. “Robert loved this when it came out. I have every song memorized, he played it so often.”

“They’re pretty good.”

“A little depressing, but then again most of this stuff is.”

“Makes it even better.”

Mom laughs and sits on the edge of my bed. “How’s the foot?”

“A couple of toes just fell off.”

“Just make sure you throw them away,” she says. “I wouldn’t want them getting stuck in the vacuum cleaner.”

“We have a vacuum cleaner?”

“Well, it’s on the need-to-get list.”

“Can you add cable and Internet to that?”

“We don’t need cable and Internet.”

“You’re killing me.”

“Taking a break from being online won’t kill you. It’ll probably be good for you.”

“Yes. Spending time listening to depressing albums from the eighties is so much better.”

She laughs. “Excited about tonight?”

“Should be fun.”

“Do I get to meet this Jocelyn?”

“I don’t know. Not sure if she’ll come to the door or not.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“I’m sixteen and don’t even have my license. That’s lame, Mom.”

“Add it to the need-to-get list.”

“Can I put ‘a life’ on there too?” I ask.

“Right after I get one,” she says.

Turns out Mom gets her wish.

“Wow,” she says, looking out the window down to the driveway. “She’s beautiful, Chris.”

It’s funny when she says this. I’m looking at Mom, all made up, wearing dress pants and a blouse as if she’s the one going out. All for the possibility of a brief greeting with Jocelyn.

My mom is beautiful. She really is.

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “Get away from the window. She’ll see you.”

Mom waves. “Already has.”

“Wonderful.”

Soon I hear steps coming from our driveway to our deck, then a knock on the door. Mom opens it a little too quickly and greets Jocelyn in a voice that’s a little too excited.

“Hello, Jocelyn. Such a pleasure to meet you.”

And please marry my son while you’re at it. Your children will be so beautiful. If they take after you, that is.

“Hi,” Jocelyn says.

Move, Mom.

Move so I can see her.

I can see those eyes looking at me.

I can see the amusement in them.

Mom moves, and I see the rest of her.

What’s she doing wearing a frilly pink prom dress?

“Hi,” I say, trying to squelch the silly thoughts going through my head.

Jocelyn is wearing jeans and an indigo button-up shirt. She looks taller than usual and, like my mother, a little more “made up” than usual. Her hair is slightly different, with some of it up and the rest falling to one side.

The air in my mouth seems to go backward. Out of breath is not the right phrase to use.

Out of touch. Out of my league. Out of my mind.

“This is such a cute place,” Jocelyn says, walking toward the small fireplace we haven’t used yet.

“It belonged—belongs—to my brother.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.” Jocelyn looks at me with a playful glance.

“I can give you a tour if you’d like,” Mom says.

“Not a lot to see,” I say.

Mom ignores me and shows Jocelyn around. I stay downstairs when they go up to my room. When they come down, Jocelyn still wears a humored look on her face.

This is all so corny. I’m corny and Mom’s corny and our little life in this little cabin is all just so corny.

“Exciting, huh?” I say.

“I’d use the word charming,” Jocelyn says.

I can’t tell if she’s being honest or mocking.

Mom makes small talk, which makes me want to go back into the woods and see that dark devil dog again.

“We should probably go,” I say.

“It was very nice to meet you, Mrs. Buckley.”

As we head out the door, Mom’s reply makes my lonely status all too clear.

“You too, Jocelyn. Come over anytime.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“You both have a fun time. And take your time coming home.”

Thanks, Mom.

She’s all but pleading with Jocelyn to help me with my loser life.

I head down the steps and walk around the side of Jocelyn’s Jeep and climb in.

So many things I want to say but can’t.

She starts up the car and then peers over at me.

“She’s a lovely lady,” Jocelyn says.

“Yeah.”

For a moment, Jocelyn studies me. Then she takes my hand and squeezes it. “Relax, okay? That was fine. Your mother’s just like you … cute.”

“Cute, huh?” I ask as she lets go of my hand and turns the car around to head back down the hill. “Makes me feel like a puppy.”

“Yeah, well, I like puppies, so consider it a compliment. I don’t give lots, Chris. Especially to guys.”

“Thanks, then.”

“Come on,” she says in a tone that I haven’t heard in her since meeting her. “Let’s try to have some fun tonight and forget about the rest of the world. Sound good?”