It was 8:30 a.m. I guess this was yesterday, although it feels like a year ago.
I’d woken up because I heard Dad leave to open up the community college for Saturday classes. He didn’t say a word to me, you know? Grandpa definitely told him I went on that eating freak-out and he didn’t care. He didn’t stop down to say anything about how I hurt his feelings by disobeying him or how he was worried about me getting hurt by staying out all night. He just left for the day.
I was awake, groggy. I brushed my teeth twice but still had a bad taste in my mouth. I still felt ill—but not like I was going to throw up. My heart beat funny, high in my chest, like it was trying to get out. I read a mystery novel Mom had in her collection (which I kept hidden in a box in the closet) to keep my mind off all the crap in the world. But I couldn’t concentrate.
That’s when someone started pounding on the front door. I sat up. I heard Grandpa talking to this someone. I even heard him say I wasn’t available because I was grounded. Justin is good like that. He talked his way in.
I put down Mom’s mystery novel and shakily climbed the stairs and met Justin in the hall off the kitchen. He was pale and trembling. So mad. His oxford wasn’t buttoned right.
I whispered, “Oh. Jesus. What?”
“I didn’t know you were capable of this, dude.”
My heart accelerated. “I guess getting robbed by the school changes a guy,” I said.
“You know this isn’t about the band,” he whispered.
“Of course it’s about the band.”
“No. It’s about me. Something good happens to me and you want me to pay because I’m leaving you behind.”
“Are you kidding? I’m leaving you behind,” I said. “You have it backward.”
“What are you talking about, Chunk?” he spat. “You’re the same fat nerd.”
“Go away, Justin. I don’t have time for traitors.”
“You have time for posting porn pics of my girlfriend though?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb, you fat freak!”
I took a deep breath, took a step forward so I was inches from him. “Say that again and you’re dead,” I said.
“Are you going to get Austin and Mike Timlin to kick my ass because you can’t fight your own fights?”
“Dude, who are you?” I sneered at him.
“I’m the guy who’s going to sue your ass for defamation of character. I’m the guy who’s going to kick your ass for getting our teacher fired. I’m the guy you’d better not mess with ever again because it will get so ugly, Chunk, so bad for you. I’ll teach you not to mess with our girlfriends.”
I took a deep breath. Blinked. “Whose girlfriends?”
He paused for a second. He exhaled and then stood up straight. “Mine and Seth’s.”
I nodded at him. I took a deep breath, sir. “That’s all I need to hear. Get out of my house.”
“Chunk, you did this to me.”
“No, dude. You’re doing it to yourself, and if you ever call me Chunk again, you’ll feel the weight of my foot on your skinny ass. Get out.”
Justin’s face turned the color of an apple, sir. He looked like he was choking. “See you later,” he whispered. He nodded, turned, and left.
I had to bend over to catch my breath. Man. That’s the guy I almost lived with after my mom left me. His mom made cakes for me to make me feel better.
Okay, okay, okay—
Sir, my ass is killing me. Don’t you pretty much know what happened after this? Haven’t the police filled you in? I really, really feel like crap.
Fine. Okay.
Porn pics? Porn what? Of Janessa? How could I have anything to do with that? I couldn’t begin to get my head around it, sir. I figured it was on the Internet someplace—but hey. No computer access.
After Justin left, without even thinking, I walked to the fridge, opened it up, looked in, and saw bread and cheese and ham. I saw the other bottle of Mountain Dew. Shit. I slammed the fridge and then went downstairs and started to sort of lose it, thinking about all the fun stuff Justin and I have done over the years, thinking about his mom and dad and singing stupid songs in the car with them while we rolled off on the family trips. The Cornells took me with them. My mom and dad never took me anyplace.
I picked up the stupid mystery novel again, tried to stop thinking. Couldn’t read it because my eyes were burning, so maybe I was crying.
That’s when I heard footsteps on the stairs. I put the book down. A second later, Grandpa came around the corner.
“What do you want?” I whispered.
Grandpa sniffed, made a face. “You need to clean this place up. It’s disgusting.”
“Thanks. Thanks for creeping downstairs to insult me. I appreciate it.”
“Aw, Gabe. Come on, kid.”
“What?”
“I’m on your—I’m trying to help your ass out. That’s my job. That’s the only reason I’m in this sad little house of yours.”
“Good work so far,” I said.
“Hell yeah, good work. Got you exercising, didn’t I?”
I took a deep breath, nodded. “Yeah. What do you want?”
“Okay. This is my assessment, boy. You ready?”
I shut my eyes, got ready for another insult, but that’s not what came.
“Your dad isn’t in good working order. I’ve been trying to tell him that you’re acting like a regular teenaged dumb ass, not a damn criminal, but he’s not getting the message. I’m beginning to figure out that this jail cell he wants you locked in has more to do with your mother than it does you.”
“I don’t get it. How?” I asked.
“She’d been sneaking around for a year before he noticed, and by the time he noticed, she was already packing up her life to leave him for another man.”
“I’m not his wife.”
“He has no wife. He tried to get hold of your mother all afternoon yesterday to tell her about your troubles. When she finally responded to an email, she told him that you and he were a past life and she was no longer living in the same realm.”
“What?” I gasped.
“She’s gone, buddy. Gone nuts, if you ask me. But you’re here and he went right to your zombie friend’s place to find you after reading that message.”
“What does Mom mean…realm?”
“I don’t know, kid. But I’m sure somewhere at the bottom of your old man’s injured heart, he thinks you’re working hard to leave him behind too. And if you go, what’s left for him?”
“I don’t know. You?” I whispered.
“I ain’t no prize.”
“Different realm?”
I know lots of kids whose parents have gotten divorced, Mr. Rodriguez, but I’m the only kid I know whose mom divorced him too. I have a terrible mom. I collapsed back onto my bed.
Grandpa started talking fast. “Listen, Gabe. I can see it. I can see that you’re climbing out of the shit river that you’ve been in since your idiot mom ran off. I hammer on you because I want you out of that river. And I’m real proud about…about the way you’ve been handling yourself of late. Working out. Arguing with that Cornell boy just now. Locking lips with a zombie. You have some fight in you.”
I nodded, swallowed. “Thanks,” I whispered. “Thanks for noticing.”
“You can’t stop just because your dad is still stuck in the river, okay? You have to keep showing that fight and you have to keep pulling on those weeds on that riverbank to pull yourself the whole way out. If that means telling your old man where to stick it and heading out of this house when he doesn’t want you heading out, well…I want you to know you got my full blessing on that.”
I pushed myself back up, looked at him. “Really?”
“I’ll let you know if you’re acting like an ass wipe, but I won’t stop you from doing what’s right.”
“Okay. Okay,” I whispered.
“You let me know how I can help you, Gabe. I’ll help.”
“I’m just going to lie here for a bit,” I said.
Grandpa nodded. He turned to leave but then turned back around. “One more thing, buddy.”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t ever eat like that again. You scared me.”
“I won’t. I’m sorry.”
You know, Mr. R., I always sort of hoped Mom would swoop back in and get me at some point. I always thought she was my way out of the mess. I didn’t ever think it would be my grandpa.
I stayed downstairs for like an hour. Then I decided Grandpa was right.