Chapter 8
Two hours later
For the first time in my life, I really, truly despise my mother.
“Edmund, if you think for one second that I’m going to let you pal around with the police, and be near guns and Tasers and who knows what else, then you are sorely mistaken, young man.” She’s pacing the living room, hands on her hips in an “I’m listening but not really because I’ve already made up my mind” kind of posture.
“Mom, it’s totally safe! Just ask Dad. I’m not doing fieldwork or anything. It’s just surveillance. I have to draw pictures of people walking by. That’s it! Dad will be with me the whole time, hanging out. And I get to stay at Senate, pay my own way. Isn’t that amazing? Why aren’t you proud of me? This is the greatest thing to happen to me, ever.”
“It’s not just a safety issue, Edmund. First of all, I don’t know how much time this is going to require. Dad needs to find another job. What if he can’t come? And then there’s your schoolwork. What if they want you to work evenings? Weekends? You know our rules. You need to dedicate yourself to your studies.”
“Mom, it’s art. Drawing portraits. I bet I can get extra credit, even! Plus school is easy. I just pretend that the homework is too much so you won’t make me do more.”
Sometimes I say incredibly stupid things.
She smooths a strand of hair off her forehead. “I’m going to have to think about this, and talk with your father. I’ll be honest . . . It’s not looking good, sweetie.”
I am shaking with anger, ready to vomit on the living room rug. I should, just to spite her. Instead I throw what is to become known in our family history as the Fit of all Fits.
“You OWE me this, Mom. You do. This is something that I really want and I never ask you for anything. Ever. And YOUR cat killed my hamster but you don’t see me asking you to get rid of her or telling you what to do, and—”
“What does Sadie have to do with you working for the police?”
“It’s all about principles, Mom! And sacrifice. And I think I’m a pretty good son and I never ask for anything, and you’re always saying I have a gift and someday I should put it to use for the greater good and this is it! This is my chance! AND YOU OWE ME THIS BECAUSE I’M SHORT AND IT’S YOUR FAULT AND THIS WILL BE GOOD FOR MY SELF-ESTEEM BECAUSE I’M THE SMALLEST PERSON IN MY CLASS ALL BECAUSE OF YOUR LOUSY EGYPTIAN PRINCESS GENES YOU PASSED ON THAT MADE ME SO PUNY!”
“I see,” she says, tight-lipped.
I go to bed without dinner. I’m not hungry anyway.