Anything You Want (5 page)

The landline rang (well, it sort of bleats like a dying sheep) in the middle of the night. Dingus, when your mom is dead, your dad is several hundred miles away in an enormous pit mine, and your brother is Darius, calls in the middle of the night are unsettling. I jumped out of bed and ran down the hall (healing buttocks–okay running). Then I tripped on Darius, who was passed out in front of the bathroom. (This harmed my buttocks a little, but I was relieved he wasn't the source of the call.) I got to the phone in the kitchen before the thing went to voice mail.

“Are you dead, Dad?”

“Shh. It's me,” said a voice.

“Shh, who?” I asked.

“Maggie,” said the voice. “Can I come over? It's kind of important.”

I looked at the clock on the oven, which said 8:22 p.m. I looked out the window through the back door. It was pitch-black like the devil in his dark black suit. “I think my clock is wrong. What time is it?”

“It's just after one. I don't have to come over, I guess, but I'd like to see you,” Maggie whispered. “Mary will drive me, so they won't say I stole the car.”

“Who?” I asked.

“The evil, soul-crushing adults who live in my house.”

“Oh.”

“Can I come?”

“My door always swings on welcome hinges for you, Maggie.”

“Please just cut the bullshit, Taco. I'm on my way.”

In the five minutes between Maggie's shock-the-monkey call and Mary dropping her at the front door, I managed to drag Darius's unconscious body down the stairs and into his basement bedroom. Once on the way down, I kind of dropped him. He woke up super quick, smiled (upside down), pointed at me, and said, “Kayla Kronstadt is getting married.”

“To who?” I asked.

“A man. But not me, because I'm a dumb-ass fish boy who wastes his life,” he said. Then he sobbed or laughed and closed his eyes again.

Whatever it was that Darius poured in his mouth bled out of his pores. He was a stale stink factory. The booze smell was so big that it overwhelmed his natural fish odor. Very gross. But still, I felt terrible for him and his lost high school girlfriend. He had thought he'd marry her one day.

“I'm so sorry, Darius,” I whispered. “I'm really sorry about Kayla.”

Two minutes later, me with my bear claw slippers on because my feet had gotten frozen like ice cubes down in Darius's basement, I answered a quiet knocking on the door. I got there in time to see that fantastic Subaru wagon pull away from the curb.

I didn't see what shape Maggie was in until we got into the living room and I turned on the lamp. My girl looked like she'd swallowed a pail of nails. Her blue eyes were big. Her face was drained and splotchy with tears. She sat quietly on the couch and stared across the room, through the wall, out into the terrifying emptiness of space.

“You okay, Maggie?” I asked. I sat on Dad's old burgundy recliner, but I didn't recline it. I sat way forward.

“My parents didn't take the news very well.”

“They're not happy about the baby?”

She turned to me. “Yeah, no shit, Taco. They're not happy, okay?”

“Okay.”

Her eyes drifted back to the wall. “Mom was so pissed. I mean, she was furious. She wouldn't stop yelling. And you know what? I was glad she was mad. She was right,” Maggie said.

“No, she's not right,” I said.

Her voice got so quiet. “She is. I'm stupid and irresponsible. Mom was so…I wish she'd killed me. I want to be dead.”

“No! No, you don't!” I stood fast, crossed to the couch, and kneeled in front of her. I grabbed her hands. “No! Please don't say that stuff, Maggie. Okay?”

“Mom called me a slut,” Maggie whispered. “A stupid slut. If…if anyone ever uses that word in front of her, she freaks. She says it's ignorant and violent to use that word, but she called me one anyway.”

I tried to get her to look at me, but she wouldn't.

“Then I called her a hypocrite and a bitch, and Dad had to, like, bear hug her because she wanted to hit me.”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It'll get better. You'll feel shipshape in the morning.” I wasn't sure what I was saying. That's what my mom would tell me if I got sick in the middle of the night.
You'll feel shipshape in the morning.
What the hell does that even mean? “Really. It's going to be okay, okay?”

“It's not, because I want to be dead.”

“No!” I shouted. “You do not want to be dead! Because you're amazing. You're smart and good. You're radiant!”

When I said radiant, she turned from the wall and looked at me. “You're so full of shit.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Well, that's the thing. That's why I'm here. Dad pulled Mom away from me, and I ran upstairs. I thought I should be dead, but then I thought about you. I thought,
All that stuff Taco says about me—all that stuff he says—he believes it.
”

“Yes, I do. I'm not full of shit. I think you're the best, most beautiful person in the world,” I said.

“Mary doesn't like you, but she says you really love me.”

“I do. One hundred percent.”

Maggie held my hands tightly. “I only feel happy when I'm with you. Even when you make me mad, I'm happy when I'm with you.”

“Yeah?” I said.

“Yeah,” Maggie said. “If I'm with you, then I'm okay.”

“Yeah,” I said.

Maggie's eyes got wet like she was about to fall asleep. “Just don't bullshit me,” she whispered.

“Okay. You got it,” I said.

“I need to sleep. Will you stay by me and not leave?”

“Forever, Maggie Corrigan,” I said.

“Okay,” she said softly. “You know when you said we should get married?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“I will marry you. Let's totally get married.”

I was so hopped up about all this, I couldn't sleep for like five hours. I pressed my dolphin face into Maggie's hair and pretended that we were all dolphins—me, Maggie, and our baby—and we swam and jumped super high behind a boat full of tourists in Florida. The tourists were just screaming and applauding about how high my family and I could jump. I could do dolphin backflips too.

Even though Maggie said some pretty serious and scary stuff, it seemed like we'd turned the corner. We were going to be a family for real.

Married.

I wasn't too sad about not sleeping.

I woke up the next morning at nine thirty, the phone bleating. Usually I sleep with the curtains open, but I'd closed them when Maggie Corrigan took off her clothes during the night. Didn't want any Peeping Toms to get a glimpse. Got to protect my family! While little light penetrated the dark green fabric, I could see plenty of day seeping around the edges. The phone kept bleating.

“Ugh,” I whispered. But I didn't get up, didn't go to the phone. My arms were wrapped around Maggie. We were stuck together. She didn't wake up, and I sure didn't want to wake her after how bad her night had been with her parents.

The phone stopped for a couple minutes, but then it started again.

This was enough noise to waken the zombie below. “Taco!” Darius shouted from the basement. “You up there?”

I didn't respond. A twinge of anxiety began to grow in my chest. It was slowly dawning on me that it was Monday. We weren't supposed to be sleeping. We were supposed to be at school! I began to stir, to try to gently wake up poor Maggie.

Meanwhile, Darius climbed the stairs like an angry hippo. By the time he got to the top, the phone had stopped ringing, and that made him swear. Then I heard him lift the receiver and punch in the code for the voice mail.

A few seconds later, Darius shouted from down the hall, “Hey! You here, Taco? School called to say you didn't show up to…” He stopped for a moment. Then Darius cried, “Holy shit! Is Maggie Corrigan in there? Her dad! Her dad needs to…”

“Uh-oh,” Maggie said.

Darius slammed down the phone and exploded into the suite. “Dude! Did you abduct her?”

“No,” Maggie said.

“Of course not,” I said.

“What are you doing?” Darius cried. “I'm like your guardian, okay? I'm the one who's supposed to keep you from… I'm only twenty-one, but you have to stop this shit and listen!” His mouth hung open, and his noggin went the color of a ripe plum.

“We overslept. We're going to school now,” I said.

“We are?” Maggie asked.

“We are the adults, and we are going to school. We have a quiz in English,” I reminded her.

Maggie nodded. “Yeah. Right. Okay. ”

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Darius murmured, shaking his head.

“Please leave so Maggie and I can get prepared for the day,” I said to Darius.

“Holy Christ!” he shouted. “Is that it?” His eyes looked like Ping-Pong balls. He didn't move.

“Darius, please,” I said.

Then he slammed the door shut.

Without saying a word, Maggie and I pulled on our clothes. We both went into the bathroom together. She peed while I brushed my teeth, which was pretty awesome. Pretty adult, right? Then she used my toothbrush to clean her chomps.

“I look like shit,” Maggie said into the mirror. “I haven't gone to school without showering since sixth grade.”

“You're still a hottie,” I said.

Luckily I no longer lived in the fantastic mullet house on the west side of town. That would've been a long walk, and we might've missed the quiz. The high school's only a five-minute hike from the suite. We got to school right as the bell rang between second and third period. We blended into the flow of kids in the hall, grabbed our books (and my inflatable school doughnut) from our lockers, and met in the doorway to Mrs. Mullen's junior English class. We smiled and kissed quick.

Maggie whispered, “I just realized I wasn't sick at all this morning. You can even cure morning sickness, Taco Keller.”

“Yes, I can,” I said. “I take care of things.”

Then we started making out, blocking the door for everyone else.

“Excuse me,” Mrs. Mullen said. “Could you please get your hormonal rears in your seats so I can start my class?”

Maggie Corrigan and I laughed.

Both Maggie and I aced that quiz. It was about comma use, which I totally understand. Maggie is just great at English because her dad wears those leather patches on the elbows of his English professor jacket.

Our new life together was off to such a great start. But after English, we had to split up to go to different classes. She went to gym to whack some birdies, and I went to calc, which was killer. Mr. Edwards, the calc teacher, would just split my brain in two, making us do things that were so hard and useless. That day, for instance, he stood in front of class and said, “Today we're going to construct a relatively simple model of change having to do with the speed of a cannonball.”

Now I'm all about cannons. They're loud, which I like. But I don't need an equation to know what happens to the speed of a cannonball after it's fired. I've seen it on TV. It flies through the air, slows down, and then stops eventually (usually in the hull of a ship or in the wall of an old-time army fort). Why would I need a mathematical model to predict that?

Anyway, I couldn't concentrate on cannonballs. I was worried about Maggie, worried what would happen to her, psychologically speaking, if she didn't have her old pal Taco standing by to cheer her up. If I was nearby, I could take care of things, keep her from feeling sick. But no, I had to think about cannonballs!

Mr. and Mrs. Corrigan were worried about Maggie too apparently. The school called them to let them know Maggie showed up. (School didn't call Darius to let him know I had arrived, by the way). Then the Corrigans came to school and pulled Maggie right back out of school. They took her home.

I found out in the hall after calc. Akilesh Sharma, who had passed calc as a freshman, so he wasn't in class with Brad Schwartz and me, asked, “What's wrong with Maggie Corrigan, man?”

I stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean?”

“I just saw her crying on the way to the parking lot with her parents.”

“Did someone die?” Brad asked.

“Did she kill someone?” Sharma asked.

“No. Oh no!” I cried. When Maggie was with me, she felt good, healthy, happy. When she was with her parents, she wanted to die and get an abortion too.

I ran through the commons and then out into the parking lot.

But Maggie and the Corrigans were long gone.

I fully intended to go over to the Corrigans' after school. There was no football practice to watch after we lost in the play-offs, so I had no place I needed to be. Except I had to use the bathroom.

Now I'm no prude. I'm generally game to take care of business in the public sphere if necessary. But in a fit of uncommon kindness, Darius had fitted the suite's toilet with a cushioned seat, which was necessary and soothing to my coccyx after I had sat in class all day. So instead of going directly to the Corrigans, I headed home.

At home I did my business naked because I don't like clothes getting touched by bathroom smell. And so I removed my clothes. Just before sitting down on my soft seat, however, the phone began its bleating. I sucked in a fast breath.
Maggie wants to come back!
I burst from my bathroom and ran down the hall to the kitchen. I managed to pick up the call before it went to voice mail.

“Maggie!” I shouted into the phone. There was a pause. Then a woman said, “Might I speak to Taco if he's home. This is Taco, correct?”

“Taco's speaking because he is home,” I replied. “Who is this?”

“Danielle Corrigan.”

“Mrs. Corrigan!”

“Yes.”

I waited for her to say something more, but she didn't. So I let fly. “Nice to hear from you,” I said. “Is Maggie okay? Why'd you pull her out of school? Never mind. I'd like to talk to Maggie now.”

“Of course you would,” Mrs. Corrigan said. “She is your…your baby mama. Isn't that right?”

“Baby mama?” I asked. “I suppose.”

“Actually, Reggie and I would both like to speak to you in person.”

“Reggie and Danielle,” I said.

“Right,” Mrs. Corrigan said.

“And who might Reggie be?” I asked. “Mr. Corrigan?”

“Of course, Taco,” said Mrs. Corrigan. “Would you please come over?”

Well, dingus, I was aching from the day and still hadn't grabbed my me time on the foam-padded throne. Maybe it was weird to ask, but I asked, “I'm a little busy, and my health still isn't what it should be. Would you mind sending a car for me?”

“You don't mind sneaking over here in the middle of the night, but you'd like a ride when we invite you?”

“It's been a tough day, Danielle,” I said. “I'm hurting. Coccyx, you understand.”

There was a pause on the other end, during which Darius entered the house carrying a couple Dairy Queen Blizzards. His mouth dropped open when he saw me standing naked while talking on the telephone.

“I'll have Mary come get you,” Mrs. Corrigan finally said.

“Thank you. Give me a few minutes,” I replied.

Mrs. Corrigan hung up.

Darius stared at my unsheathed body. “Things are outer limits, man. Totally, totally outer limits,” he said.

I hung up the receiver and hobbled back to the throne room.

Darius chased after me with the Blizzards. “We have to talk. I bought you a Blizzard, so you'll talk.”

“I can't talk to you right now, okay?” I said. “I have to go to the Corrigans' to talk about this situation with them.”

“They know?” Darius asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“Thank God, man,” Darius said. “They're adults. They can figure this shit out.” He paused for a moment. “I'm going to eat both Blizzards, you jerk.”

I wanted that Blizzard, but Darius's face was all red from the stress of this situation. “Okay,” I said. “Thanks for getting it for me, and you should have both. You deserve both.”

“Shut up,” Darius said.

“Don't worry, Darius. This is a great day…just like every day.”

“Seriously. Shut up.”

Twenty minutes later I was in the Corrigans' fantastic Subaru with Mary. “How are you?” I asked.

“I'm fine. Thanks,” she replied.

Mary is two years older than Maggie. Mary is spending one year taking care of her general ed credits in town at the college before she goes to Scotland to study medieval history for the next three years. Amazing, right? Mary is a hottie, but she's also a total dweeb who sings Shakespeare songs at the Renaissance fest. Something about her nerdliness makes me feel very comfortable around her (even when she's mad at me). If she has the courage to go out in public dressed like an elf princess and sing songs at the top of her lungs, she must be pretty strong and courageous in her heart, right? That's what I think. I like that Mary Corrigan a hell of a lot. I sort of think of her as my older sister.

“College going well?” I asked her.

“Would you please not say another word to me? You cause too much trouble.”

I nodded. “You got it,” I said. Sort of hurt my feelings, but I understood.

When we pulled up to the Corrigan home, Maggie was sitting out front with her head in her hands.

“Look what you've done to her,” Mary said.

“She's not sad when she's with me,” I replied. “Maybe you did it to her.”

We climbed out of the car and walked toward the house. You think I was nervous about this meeting, dingus? Talking to the parents of the girl who got knocked up through our love? No way. Not even remotely. I looked forward to it.

When I got to the porch, Maggie stood and hugged me hard. I smiled at her. She said, “Thanks for coming over. It takes a lot of guts.”

I squeezed her hands. “It just takes love.”

“Barf,” said Mary. “I'm going to my room.”

The Corrigans, both Danielle and Reggie, were seated at the big dining room table. They cupped mugs of steaming tea in their hands. They both slouched. They looked a little rough around the edges.

Missy, who's an eighth grader, was in the room adjacent to the dining room, plunking out some classical tune on the piano. Misha and Molly, the young ones, made glitter art on newspapers that were spread across the floor.

“Would you three please either go outside or up to your rooms?” Mrs. Corrigan asked.

The three youngest Corrigans immediately stood and left. What great kids, huh?

Maggie and I sat next to each other at the table.

“Would you like something to drink, Taco?” Mr. Corrigan asked.

“Yes, thanks,” I replied. “Do you have any Liptons?”

“No,” Mrs. Corrigan said. “It's time to talk. Like adults. This is an adult situation.”

“If this is an adult situation, Taco should be able to have some tea,” Maggie said.

“Taco. Taco. Taco,” Mrs. Corrigan snapped.

“Danielle is very upset,” Mr. Corrigan said to me.

“And you're not?” Mrs. Corrigan asked Mr. Corrigan.

“I don't need any tea,” I said. I didn't want to upset Mrs. Corrigan any more than necessary. “I'm good.”

“Wrong,” Mrs. Corrigan said. “Not good. My daughter is pregnant.”

“It's true,” I said. “Our intent was pure, however. I love your daughter.”

Mr. Corrigan smiled for a moment. Mrs. Corrigan clenched her jaw.

“I love Taco too,” Maggie said.

“So what are we going to do about it?” Mrs. Corrigan asked me. “Maggie tells me an abortion is off the table. Do you agree, Taco?” Mrs. Corrigan once again spat my name, which was not my given name.

“Call me William. And I agree. This is our baby,” I said. “It may be a miracle baby.”

“Oh God,” Mr. Corrigan said and sighed.

“You're sixteen,” Mrs. Corrigan said sternly. “You're a baby.”

“Seventeen in a month,” I offered.

“You don't drive,” Mrs. Corrigan said.

“Not interested in driving,” I said.

“You don't have a job,” Mrs. Corrigan said.

“Up to this point, I've been too involved in school activities to find time for gainful employment. But my family comes first. I'll begin a job search pronto.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. “We're going to end up raising this baby, Reggie,” she said.

That set a fire under the professor's rear. “We should discuss adoption,” he said.

“No!” Maggie shouted. “This is my baby! You can't give away my baby!”

“I'm not giving away your baby—just suggesting that you'd be doing a wonderful thing for a couple and for
your
child if you did. You'd be giving the gift of your love to people who—”

“No!” Maggie cried. Tears began sliding from her eyes. That set a fire under me.

“I hear you, sir. Love is a wondrous gift. Very wonderful. But first and foremost, my job is to support the emotional needs of my wife.”

“Your wife?” Mr. Corrigan repeated.

“You didn't. You couldn't,” Mrs. Corrigan said to Maggie.

“They couldn't,” Mr. Corrigan said. “They're minors.”

“We could if we had your permission,” I said.

Mrs. Corrigan stood up. She held her teacup so tightly, it looked as if she would crush it. Then she whipped that teacup onto the wood floor so it smashed into a million pieces.

We all jumped.

“Jesus, mom! Psycho much? You think I'm crazy? I learned from the best!” Maggie cried.

Mrs. Corrigan glared at Maggie. “Shut your mouth.” She turned and took off into the kitchen, cursing us all out under her breath. Maggie kicked back her chair, cursed, and chased after her mom like she was a dog going after a stick somebody threw.

A moment later, shouting came from the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Mr. Corrigan and I sat in the dining room. I smiled at him. Mom had told me to smile if I was ever confused because I have a nice smile. I didn't know what else to do. Our meeting wasn't going very well.

Mr. Corrigan shook his head. “Taco,” he said. “This is real. This is happening.”

“I get it,” I said. “Reality.”

“Danielle has been in counseling to deal with anger. Maggie too. This situation…this fighting?” Mr. Corrigan pointed at the kitchen door and shook his head. He looked so sad. “These are two people I love who are liable to destroy each other. Can you help me please?”

I took a deep breath. I wasn't really sure what he was asking. But I wanted to help him, and I figured if I helped Maggie, I was also helping him. “I will do everything I can,” I said.

Mr. Corrigan nodded. “I'll help you if you help me.”

In the kitchen Maggie screamed stuff I won't repeat. Mrs. Corrigan screamed back. Some glasses broke.

“I think you should leave now. We'll talk again soon,” Mr. Corrigan said.

“I'm worried about Maggie. Danielle…Mrs. Corrigan won't accidentally stab her or make her want to die or anything?” I asked.

“No, Danielle loves Maggie very much,” Mr. Corrigan said. “This is just a hard time.”

Because Maggie seemed so sad when she came to my house the night before and because it was her mom who caused her to be so sad, I didn't know if I should believe Mr. Corrigan, you know? My mom would never have made me feel like that. My mom also told me to be polite and respectful though, and Mr. Corrigan was a good and trustworthy person who would protect his daughter, so I decided to believe him. I took a deep breath and said, “Please tell Maggie to contact me at her earliest convenience.”

Mr. Corrigan looked a bit startled. “Will do,” he said.

I stood up. “Should I ask Mary for a ride?”

A large plate or maybe a platter crashed in the kitchen.

Mr. Corrigan shut his eyes. “No, you walk, Taco. Think about what's happening and what we discussed.”

I nodded at Mr. Corrigan. “Okay. That sounds good.” I reached out my hand so we could shake on it.

Mr. Corrigan stared at my hand for a moment. He smiled really sad, but he didn't take it.

From the kitchen Mrs. Corrigan screamed, “His name is Taco! Taco! Taco!”

“It's William,” Maggie hollered.

“Better run along, son,” Mr. Corrigan said.

I smiled, but it wasn't my best smile because I felt pretty sick to my stomach from all this. Then out the door I went.

On the walk home, I wondered what Mr. Corrigan was getting at with his comment about Mrs. Corrigan and Maggie's counseling. Anger? Is that why people go to counseling? I thought,
Maybe Darius should go to counseling.
That seemed so dumb though, because Darius wasn't crazy. He just drank too much and was born mad.

Then I thought about Mrs. Corrigan breaking that glass. I thought,
What you saw was real, Taco. It really happened.

No duh, dingus.

On I walked, and I worried. What if Maggie's parents really thought she was crazy, not just mad? What if they took Maggie away and stuck her in an insane asylum or something?

I thought,
Mr. Corrigan can help me if I help him? What does that even mean?

Then right by this giant lawn next to the old Roundtree Building, the first building ever built for the college, I saw some barn swallows chasing each other like
Star Wars
swamp speeders. Those damn birds can fly, pal!

Zigzag! Zigzag!

Super cool.

Birds don't worry.