Monday morning looks brighter than usual after the greatest weekend of my life. My mother spent most of the past forty-eight hours on the captain’s boat, so this is the first chance I’ve had to share a recap of her Friday night exploits. She serves up some waffles, and I serve the dirt. She cringes when I mention her sex-dance and the glass of zinfandel that Jace wound up wearing.
Her embarrassment mutates to irritation in seconds, then claims to have no memory of spilling or throwing a drink. She insists, “I would never do such a thing! Let’s be honest. I’m not one to waste a glass of wine.”
Good point. I’d ask the captain to refresh her memory, but he’s away on a business trip. Which might mean they broke up. There hasn’t been any sobbing or Jewel songs yet, so I can’t be certain. I dig for more information. “So, Harold went to some fishing and tackle convention? Is that in Alaska?”
“He’s an optometrist, Salem.” She points to her new sunglasses as proof. “What? You think that everyone who has a boat is a fisherman?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen his picture on a box of frozen fish sticks.”
She laughs because it’s true. “He’s very handsome.” She pulls her chair closer to mine. She has that look in her eyes. The serious one that means she’s about to dig where I don’t want her to. “So then, what’s going on with you and Dr. Palmer’s daughter? I saw the way you were looking at her.”
How does she know these things? Luckily, my phone dings. Another conversation I never want to have with her. “Who? Gotta go.”
I set my bowl in the sink and head out to the driveway.
I move the bag that should contain my half of a blueberry muffin and take a seat. “So, did you see more of Tristan over the weekend, or does he burst into flames if he walks into the sunlight?”
Jace hands me my coffee. “Jeez! Wouldn’t you like to know? Good morning to you, too!”
I sip my coffee. “Well, I didn’t hear from you all weekend. I figured you two must have been busy working your way through some elaborate dating montage. You know, all-white outfits on the beach with Ed Sheeran playing his guitar in the background. Then you and Tristan fly off into the sunset in a magical convertible Cadillac.”
It’s dark in the car, but I can tell his cheeks are turning red. “Ooh! You make my weekend sound so fabulous! Who knew you were such a romantic? But you forget, Salem. I am a gentleman. I’ll never tell! What about you and Karen? I heard you got coffee with her?”
“I would have coffee with Charles Manson if he was buying. That means nothing.”
He laughs suspiciously. “Mmmm. Sounds like something to me.”
I arrange his four cassette tapes so they’re now in alphabetical order. “She’s pretty cool.”
Jace squeals with delight. “I knew it! I smell a double date in our future!”
“Well, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.”
We pull up to the Manor. Jace is giddy, which usually irritates me. Today, I’m kind of right there, sharing in his good mood. He torments me about my lack of a guitar as we walk into the building. The hallways are oddly quiet. Almost empty.
Rolex is standing in front of the medication room door. “Nice show, rock stars! Dr. Palmer wants to see you in his office right away.”
Jace shrugs his shoulders. “You go ahead. I need to put my stuff away. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Dr. Palmer’s door is open, but I knock anyway.
“Come in, Salem. Have a seat.”
I’ve learned that if you want to make a pitch to this guy, you’d better do it fast. “Good morning. Hey. I have an idea about a new activity for the clients. I was thinking we could remake the Wizard of Oz. Jace has this amazing editing program on his laptop. We could––”
“Whoa! Slow down. I need to tell you something.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“First, I wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve done for our patients. After what I saw on Friday, I’d say your debt for the fire damage to my house has been paid off ten times over. I want you to enjoy the rest of your summer. You and Jace deserve that.”
I inhale and let his words sink in. “This is our last day?”
He slides an envelope across the table. “For now, yes. I assume you’ll be applying to colleges sometime soon?”
“Yeah. Senior year’s coming up, so I guess so.” It’s hard to get my brain to think beyond this past weekend, but I suppose I should start thinking about that stuff.
“Perhaps a psychology or social work program?”
I think about his house. His BMW. Getting to remake the Wizard of Oz and receiving a paycheck for it. “I was thinking about getting a fire science degree, but either one of those could work instead.”
He smiles. “In that envelope is a letter of recommendation. When the time comes, and you pick a school, send that along with your application. It should help you to get accepted. Any program would be lucky to have you. Who knows? Maybe one day, you can come back and work for us here?”
I feel so appreciated. Proud. “Well, I’m very expensive.”
“And worth every penny.”
I feel my cheeks getting warmer. “Seriously, thank you for everything. This letter. Everything.” I think about Andy and Windsor. “What if I wanted to stay? Work for the rest of the summer? I think I’d like to do that.”
Mr. Palmer taps a stack of papers on his desk. “There is a little more to this story. This order came from the state board that licenses our facility. It turns out we’re not permitted to have underage volunteers. You would have to be eighteen to work here. If I kept you on as staff, they would fine us several billion dollars.”
I feel deflated. “Come on. It’s not like it’s several trillion.” We share a smile. “So, that’s it?”
“It’s over, but just for now.”
I look around the room, trying to think of some kind of loophole. “That sucks.”
“It sucks for all parties involved. There are a few people that would love to say goodbye to you. We let the patients know over the weekend that this would be your last day.”
“For sure. I would like that.”
We walk down to the rehearsal room. We don’t say very much along the way. I just kind of take in the sights and smells of the hallway one last time. I’m gonna miss this place. Guess I really must be crazy.
Dr. Palmer pushes the door open. The room is packed. Everyone cheers. I’m not sure why. “We wanted to say thank you and send you and Jace off the right way.”
This is for us? “Wow! That’s why the hallways are so quiet. This is a total surprise.”
Evie is the first to greet us. “Wait. It gets better.”
Mr. Wellington and Olga step aside to reveal a cake on the table. I laugh when I notice a broken guitar painted with frosting on the top of it. I read the words out loud:
SALEM & JACE
For Those about to Rock . . .
We Salute You!
Everyone applauds again. I feel a little choked up. “This is so awesome. Thank you, guys! Hey. Where is Jace?”
Dr. Palmer sticks his finger in the frosting and tastes it. “There’s one more surprise. Tammy?”
Tammy steps up. “I just wanted to say I’m s-s-s-sorry for crushing your fiddle, Dr. Tevye.”
I have no clue what that reference is. “Don’t worry, Tammy. It can be fixed, and it will be better than ever.”
“Or . . .” I hear Jace’s voice. “You can just play this one.” He walks up, holding a beautiful, brand new black Ibanez electric guitar. “Here you go. This belongs to you.”
He hands it to me. It’s so shiny! “What do you mean?”
Dr. Palmer places its case in front of me. “Jace helped us pick it out on Saturday. We all felt bad that yours was broken. A little thank-you gift from all of us at the Manor.”
No way! It’s so, so pretty. “This is too nice. Way nicer than the one that broke.”
“Well, you enjoy it. Why don’t you plug it in? See how it sounds?”
“Hell yeah! Sorry. I mean, heck yeah.”
I plug in and pull a pick over its silver strings. It sounds amazing! I crunch a few barre chords while the cake is served. I’m really gonna miss these guys.
Everyone is saying their goodbyes. I carefully pack my guitar in its equally nice, hard-shell road case and grab a piece of cake. Andy comes over as I take my first bite. “This guy wanted to say that he could come and visit him.”
“I would like that. Is it okay if I bring you some candy when I come to visit you?”
“Yeah. You’re his friend.” He plops his head on my shoulder. I give him a hug. “Aka-Tha Ou-ya.”
“Thank you, too, buddy.” A droplet of warmth rolls down my cheek. I wipe away the emotion with the back of my hand and think about what’s happening with a bit of wonder. They work after all.
Tammy is next. Which is a great distraction. If I cry anymore, the tears might not stop. “Sir?”
“Yes, Tammy.”
“This is for you, too, sir. It’s a g-g-g-gift. A gift for your ebony electric f-f-fiddle.” She hands me a new rainbow shark sticker. Slightly larger and even more colorful than the last.
I’m curious. “Thanks! Where do you get all of these?”
Tammy is staring at the cake on my plate. She’s in a near trance when she shares, “Every month, I g-g-g-get a care package from my father, Ichabod Crane. C-c-c-cookies and chips and always a special sticker. When I was a g-g-g-girl, he used to call me his little tiger shark.” Her eyes drift up to mine. “He used to tell me, ‘in a world full of fish, b-b-b-be a shark.’ That’s what I am, sir. Not a g-g-g-gorilla. I’m a shark.”
I almost want to hug her. I remember a terrible poem I had to write in the seventh or eighth grade. It was about sharks. Maybe it was a haiku? I share the title of it with her.
“Happiness is a shark.” She smiles at that. “I love my sticker. You keep your fin out of the water, Tammy.”
“Yes, sir. I want the s-s-s-swimmers to see me coming.”
We walk over to my new guitar and open up its case. I half-expect it to be glowing inside. I’m a little nervous, sharing this shiny perfection with this girl who’s usually as gentle as an electrocution.
She peels and sticks her special gift on my new guitar’s pickguard. Her hand shakes as she cautiously, gently smooths it down. The most beautiful guitar in the world just got prettier.
We both breathe a sigh of relief when the case is closed back up.
“One more thing, sir. Speaking of sticking. You’ve been so very n-n-n-nice to me. On your eighteenth birthday, I would like to have unprotected sex with you.”
I cough. Cake flies out of my mouth and lands on her shoulder. I know she’s considering eating it. Dr. Palmer hears the comment and is busy redirecting her.
Tammy apologizes to him, and then finishes her thought. “Okay! Okay! Hey, Mister Salem.” She said my real name! “Thank you for liking my dress.”
I want to tell her that I like her. I do. But if I share this thought, there’s a good chance of her flashing the entire party, so I end with, “I do like your dress.”
She smiles, twirls, and flicks the piece of cake off her shoulder.
There is only one more person I need to say goodbye to: Windsor. He’s been silent the whole party. I think I might miss him the most. I wander over to the corner of the room where he’s been sulking.
When I get closer to him, he stands at attention. A giant, loyal, and resilient space soldier. My friend.
I hand him a piece of cake. “Windsor, I just wanted to say thank you, and that I learned so much––”
He clicks his heels together and salutes me. I get it. This isn’t a time for words. I salute back, looking deep into his bloodshot eyes. His turn to lose a tear. One swells out of the corner of his eye. He wipes it, sets down his cake, and uses both hands to remove his paper crown. He holds it straight out. An offering. I don’t think I’ve ever been gifted something so precious.
I want to tell him that I’ll keep it forever. That I’ll never forget him. All of them. Instead, I respect his silence. I take the crown and bow to the King of Mars.
A few more hugs and smiles around the room and it’s time to go. Time to be kids and finish our summer vacation. Then, take on our senior year with newfound confidence. Old Hard-On High is gonna seem like a piece of cake after managing these hallways. We walk the wonderfully insane, freshly mopped halls for the last time. Shoulder to shoulder, with our guitar cases dangling by our sides.
Jace says what I’m thinking. Sort of. “You know what? I’m actually gonna miss this place. Well, maybe not that kitchen.” He shudders. “Adiós, amigos!”
I focus on my steps, aware of the emotion twirling in my chest. I adjust the focus on our future. “So, what are you gonna do with the rest of your summer?”
Jace opens the back door of his car and tosses his bass inside. “Well, I think I might spend some quality time with my Balz.”
I laugh. “Your what?”
“Sandra Balz! Remember, my friend from the boat? I want to volunteer some of my days at her animal shelter. You know, save the world one kitten at a time. Cats are so magical. They always find a way to make me happy. How ’bout you? How are you gonna keep busy? I mean, besides playing that gorgeous guitar?”
I look across the top of the car at my friend. “You know what? I might just help you out at the animal shelter. Yes, that’s it! I’m gonna return the favor. I could show up ridiculously overdressed and at least an hour late. Then I’ll suggest makeovers for all of the poodles!” I twirl an invisible scarf. “Hello! I’m here, you homeless little furballs! Who needs their claws manicured? Tigger, what were you thinking with that collar? Just, no. It clashes with your fur.”
Jace shakes his head and smiles. “So funny. I guess we know that acting is not in your future. But you know what? I do think it’s a great idea! Sandra and I have a special assignment for you. Cleaning out pit bull slobber from dog bowls in the kitchen. Oh! There will be hair nets for you, too, so I hope you enjoy that.”
I climb into the car and consider the polyester mesh covering my head. “No self-respecting teenager would ever be caught dead in one of those.”
Jace laughs sarcastically and shares his middle finger. He starts the car, but then pauses, just sort of staring out the window. I wonder if our final exit is harder on him than I thought. I’m about to ask when he perks up. “Oh! I almost forgot! This is for you.” He reaches into the back seat and hands me a record. Redd Kross’s Neurotica! There’s a yellow sticky note on the front cover.
Salem––
Bring this over on Friday night.
We can listen to it on my record player.
XXOO
Kiki
I’m confused. “Who’s Kiki?”
“It’s from Karen! She decided she likes my nickname for her after all.”
I study the note again. “I like Karen.”
He shoves my shoulder. “I know you do!”
I shove him back. “I meant her name, Dinkus.”
Jace catches me smiling. “Like I said, you two seem like something special to me.” He throws a cassette tape on my lap as he pulls out of the parking lot. “She says you’re back in the Waldos. It’s a very prestigious and exclusive club, so you really can’t say no. You’d better listen to that thing before Friday.”
“You’ll have to reteach me the secret handshake.” I flip the case over. “The Cure. I like this band!” I push the tape into the radio and twist the volume knob to the right. The speakers crackle, then “Boys Don’t Cry” starts to play. We dance in our seats, and I watch the Manor shrinking in the rearview mirror. I sing along with the chorus and turn my eyes to the road ahead of us. I lower Windsor’s crown onto my head and have a feeling, for the first time in three years . . . that I’m gonna be okay.
My summer vacation began with mom telling me she knew who she thought I was. Truth is, I didn’t have a clue who I was either. I’m figuring it out now. Turns out, I am coming out, in a way. Into the world, I mean. Center stage with a bright and dangerous and humiliating spotlight shining down on me. As crazy as this world can be, I’m a part of it now. A real, honest, card-carrying, committed member. And from now on, I don’t hide from anybody, and they’ll never forget me.