Authors: Janet Tashjian

My Life as a Stuntboy (22 page)

“Frank is where he's supposed to be,” I finish. “Taking him away now would only confuse him and leave him lonely.”

Wendie closes the latch on the cage and doesn't meet my eyes. “So that's your theory? You're some kind of monkey whisperer now? You know how animals think and feel?”

I point across the room. “Maybe it's in my genes. My mom's pretty good with animals too.”

Wendie nods and tells my mother she'll be in touch.

For the first time in the meeting, my mother speaks. “My son has presented a good argument,” she says. “I hope you consider his points very seriously.”

Wendie grabs her purse from the kitchen table. “I'll give you a call tomorrow with my decision.”

After Wendie leaves, my mother holds out her arms for Frank. I guess she needs some comfort after all this tension too.

“You were very persuasive,” she admits. “But it's out of our hands.”

My body finally collapses with the stress and fear of losing my monkey, and I slide onto the closest chair. When Frank tilts his head away from my mom and looks at me, it's almost as if he's asking,
Are you okay?

I'll let you know tomorrow.

persuasive

Rut-Ro

lopsided

When I walk into the kitchen the next morning, my father's wearing this lopsided smile while he talks on the phone. The guy is just too weird.

I grab a cookie and head to the door, but he stops me. “He's right here.” The grin on his face is even sillier when he hands me the phone.

“Is it Wendie?” I whisper. “Can we keep Frank?”

“It's not Wendie,” he answers.

“Then who is it?”

His only answer is that ludicrous expression. I put the phone to my ear.

“Hi, Derek. It's Tanya Billings. How are you?”

ludicrous

As I stare at the phone, my father shrugs as if to say
I told you.
I finally get it together and tell Tanya I'm fine.

“Did you see the video on YouTube?” she asks.

Please don't say someone got their hands on Matt's video of me reading! I tell her I haven't and race to Dad's laptop in the next room.

“At first I was angry,” she admits. “But it's been great! It's gotten more than two hundred thousand hits.”

“Uhm, what's the video called?” I'm almost afraid to know.

“Tanya Billings saves wild monkey.”

“What?” Sure enough, a video comes up of Tanya climbing a wall of crates to save a capuchin monkey. The video stops short just as she reaches the top of the shelving.

Except it isn't Tanya. It's me.

“My phone hasn't stopped ringing,” she says. “People think I do my own stunts now. Did you tell your friend to post this? You're a genius!”

As I watch myself climb up to Frank for the second time, I try and decide if I should tell Tanya that I had nothing to do with Matt posting this video, but I keep quiet. I'm just glad Frank is high up enough that you can't really see it's him. Wendie doesn't seem like the YouTube type,
but you never know. Today is the day I find out if we keep him, and I don't want anything to mess it up.

“First using illustrations to help me with my lines, then giving me this great free publicityâI'm so glad I met you.”

publicity

Before I can ask her what movie she's working on next or if she wants to come over sometime, she hangs up. I stare into the silent phone and know in my heart it's the last time I'll ever talk to Tanya Billings.

I text Matt.

r u insane? y did you post it?

He answers me back moments later.

Cuz u climb like a girl.

But he apologizes for posting the video without my permission and
says he'll take it down if I want him to. I tell him to keep it up.

My father hands me a carrot dipped in peanut butter. “Isn't Ronnie coming?”

“I think he's had enough of me for one week,” I answer. “He's scheduled for next Tuesday instead.”

“So you're finishing the book on your own?”

“I am twelve,” I respond. “Reading without help
is
a possibility.”

aghast

My mother comes in from her office and passes over an envelope addressed to me. I can't remember the last time I got any real mail. I'm even more aghast by what's inside.

“Is this a joke?” I ask.

Dad looks over my shoulder at the check from the studio and whistles. “That's more than all the
birthday money you've ever gotten in your life.”

“Multiplied by ten,” Mom adds.

“Don't tell the studio,” I whisper.

“But I would've worked on that movie for free.”

“You should add that to your college fund,” Dad suggests.

I'll have to get Mom to take me to the promenade in Santa Monica to blow some of this money before they have any other bright ideas.

I spend the next several hours reading my book and drawing my vocabulary words. But what I mostly do is look at the clock. Before I can even ask the question, my mother answers.

“She'll call soon,” Mom says.

“She's doing this to torture me, I just know it.”

“Believe it or not, Derek, it's not always about you.” She balances a stack of towels on her hip and heads upstairs.

I check my email and am surprised to see one with an attachment. It's a quick note from Tony.

Thought you'd like to see this.
It was great working with you.
I'll keep you in mind next time
I need a Super Stuntboy.

I open the attached file. It's a photograph the set photographer took last week. Tony and I are at the very top of the junkyard pile, planning our way around dozens of obstacles. Even though this is a photograph and not a video, I can hear Tony's words as if we were
standing up there now.
You can do this. Take it slow and plan it out.

I suppose it's good advice for any project, and it gives me the energy to concentrate for another hour on my work. When the phone rings, I bound across the room and stand beside my father.

“Yes,” he says into the phone. “I understand completely.”

My mother seems as anxious about hearing Wendie's decision as I am. My father talks for a few more moments before hanging up and turning to us.

“We can keep him,” he says.

I jump into the air, but my father's stern expression sends me crashing back down to earth.

“But only on probation,” he continues. “They want to talk to us once a week, have us fill out a monthly report, and they'll revisit the decision in ninety days.”

probation