Saturday Boy (7 page)

“Piranhagator?”

“Piranha
dile.
”

“Silly me,” she said. “Hey, do you have any interest in bathing tonight?”

“Why, am I stinky?”

“You've been worse,” she said. “What are those?”

“Bumper cars.”

“Very nice, Piggy. I think you've outdone yourself here.”

“That's what
I
thought!”

“You know what, though, I need for you to get your pajamas on and get ready for bed, okay? And if you're not going to shower you should at least wash your face. And really brush your teeth. Chewing on the toothbrush doesn't count.”

“But the toothpaste stings my tongue!”

“No, it doesn't.”

“Yes, it does!”

“Derek, I don't know what to tell you,” Mom said. “Life can sting sometimes.”

“Like a bee?”

“Yes.”

“Or a jellyfish?”

“Yes, like a jellyfish.”

“A box jellyfish or a man o' war?”

“What's the difference?”

“Well, a box jellyfish is deadlier even though they both have poison tentacles. And the man o' war goes with the current and kinda floats but the box jellyfish can actually swim a little.”

Mom looked at me and blinked a couple times. Her eyes seemed greener than normal. I smiled and nodded.

“Just brush your teeth, wise guy,” she said. “And hop to, okay? It's almost bedtime.”

“Can I finish the drawing?”

“Jammies and teeth first.”

“But Mom—”

“Let me finish,” she said. “Get into your pajamas and brush your teeth now and you can stay up an extra half-hour to finish the drawing or read or whatever, sound good?”

“Can I watch TV?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I'd rather you used your brain.”

I told her I'd been using my brain all day. I told her it was impossible to build forts, draw comics and castles, and create piranhadiles without it and that it might actually appreciate a rest. She said I made a great point and that she was proud of me for being so articulate. I wasn't sure what that meant but I didn't want to say anything. Sometimes if you do something good by accident it's best if you just pretend you meant to do it all along. You can always go back and figure out what it was later on.

“So can I stay up?”

“Aren't you tired from playing with Budgie all afternoon?”

“No.”

“Pajamas and teeth first,” said Mom. “Then it's okay.”

I said thanks and gave her a big hug and then put on my pajamas and brushed my teeth and ran downstairs and turned on the TV just as
Zeroman
was starting. It was the one where Dr. Mayhem collects all these artifacts from all over the world that create a doomsday device when put together. There's this awesome part where Zeroman fights some sharks but can't use his knife or speargun because if he cuts the sharks it would start a feeding frenzy so he has to use underwater kung fu instead.

During the commercials I tried to remember the word Mom used when she said was proud of me. If I could remember that, I could figure out what it meant and then be like that all the time and get to stay up and watch TV. I was still trying to remember the word a half-hour later as I got into bed and a half-hour after that when I finally fell asleep.

THE NEXT DAY
no one picked up the phone over at Budgie's even though I really wanted to play again. I had thought of some more cool things for the castle and it was important that I talk to Budgie about them. I must have called fifteen times.

“Aunt Josie,” I shouted from the top of the stairs. “There's something wrong with the phone!”

“Don't yell across the house, Derek,” she shouted back. “Come down here if you want to talk to me.”

I found Aunt Josie in the living room. She was sitting on the couch digging through the backpack in her lap and from where I stood I could see the little cartoon skull and crossbones tattooed behind her ear. Her big leopard-print suitcase stood in the corner.

“What're you looking for?” I asked.

“My toothbrush,” said Aunt Josie. “I could've sworn . . .”

“Are you staying over?”

“I thought I'd come hang with you guys for a while if that's okay with you,” she said, smiling. A pair of sunglasses held her hair away from her face. It was red today. Like a fire engine.

“Heck yeah, it is,” I said, holding out my fist. “Bump it. C'mon now, don't leave me hanging.”

We bumped fists and blew it up. Aunt Josie was the coolest.

“Can you tattoo me?”

“Of course,” she said, putting her backpack on the floor. “Run and get your markers, okay?”

I got the markers, sat down on the couch, and gave Aunt Josie my arm. She pushed my sleeve up over my elbow.

“Now what are we thinking of doing here?”

“You choose,” I said. “But it has to be cool.”

“When has it ever
not
been cool?”

I shook my head and closed my eyes. I could hear Aunt Josie open the box of markers and slide a few out. I wondered what colors she'd chosen.

“Why are you closing your eyes?”

“I don't want to see it until it's done,” I said. “I want to be surprised.”

“Suit yourself,” said Aunt Josie. “Remember our motto?”

“Sit down. Shut up. And don't move.”

“Attaboy!”

I closed my eyes a little tighter and clenched my teeth, waiting for the first stroke of the marker. Aunt Josie had a light hand and it always,
always
tickled at first—especially on the inside of the arm—but after the first few minutes you got used to it. She drew in silence for a while, holding my wrist loosely in one hand. I had no idea what she was drawing—footprints, maybe? It felt like they could be footprints.

“So how are things with your lady friend?” she asked suddenly.

“What lady friend?”

“You were telling me about her the other day. She has a flower name—Rose? Lily?”

“Oh, you mean Violet.”

“That's it,” said Aunt Josie. “And how is Violet?”

“Fine. I guess. Why?”

“You a little sweet on her, maybe?”

My face flushed and I almost opened my eyes.

“No. I don't—I'm not . . . no.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes. No. Wait—if I'm sweet on her does that mean I like her?”

“Yes.”

“Then no. I mean, yeah. I mean I'm not
in
like with her or anything. She's nice to me.”

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“You're blushing.”

“I know.”

“Like crazy.”

I didn't say anything. Instead, I tried flexing different facial muscles so I would get unblushed but I don't think it worked because my face and my neck and the room and the rest of the world still felt hot.

“I'm just messing with you, kiddo. It's perfectly normal if you like her,” said Aunt Josie. “But I can't promise I won't get jealous. And y'know what?”

“What?”

“I think we're done here.”

“I can open my eyes?”

“Yep.”

“Drum roll, please!”

Aunt Josie beat the tabletop with her hands and I opened my eyes slowly, wanting to prolong the surprise. What had she drawn, I wondered. It'd felt like they could be cartoon explosions. Or maybe bullet holes. It was really hard to tell. Whatever it was, though, it was going to be awesome.

“
Flowers
?
”

“Cherry blossoms,” she said. “How's that for a little bit of awesome?”

“Flowers.”

“
Cherry blossoms
are badass.”

“What? How?” I said. “On what
planet
could that even possibly—”

“On
this
planet! Just hear me out,” said Aunt Josie. “The cherry blossom is a symbol of the samurai. And there's nobody out there more badass than they are.”

She had a point.

“Because even though they were these fierce, brave warriors who could go totally berserkoid, they understood that like the cherry blossom, life was this beautifully fragile, precious thing that deserved the utmost respect. So riddle me this, Batman—what better symbol is there for a brave samurai warrior than a representation of the thing he held most dear?”

I looked at my new tattoo. Aunt Josie had drawn four blossoms—three were complete but a few petals of the fourth seemed to be floating away like they were on a breeze, and even though they had been drawn with Magic Markers, somehow Aunt Josie had made them appear delicate. I thought for a moment about how she'd said cherry blossoms were like life because they were so fragile. Then I thought about samurai warriors and how probably nobody ever teased them for liking flowers. They probably never got teased at all.

“You're right,” I said. “Cherry blossoms
are
kinda badass.”

“Toldja.”

“They're the badassiest,” I continued, figuring I should get the word out of my system while Mom wasn't around to hear it. “They're responsible for widespread badassery.”

“Okay, settle down,” she said. “Now what were you saying about the phone?”

“It's broken.”

“No it's not.”

“Yes it is,” I said. “I've been calling and calling and nobody's answering at Budgie's house.”

“Does it go to voice mail?”

“Yep.”

“Have you left a message?”

“Fifteen.”

“What?”

“Messages. I've left fifteen messages.”

“First of all, you're a butt,” she said, grabbing me and wrestling me into her lap. “And second, if it's going to voice mail it means
there's nobody home
!”

And that's when all the tickling started.

* * *

Budgie almost missed the bus on Monday morning. Phoebe's small, blue car pulled up just as it arrived. He didn't look like he wanted to talk about castles, though. He didn't look like he wanted to talk about anything. I wondered what happened but didn't ask. Budgie stomped to the back of the bus and I sat down next to this kid named Arlo who'd eat anything for a dollar.

“Guess what I have in my pocket,” he said.

“No.”

“A shrew,” said Arlo. “I found it at the bus stop.”

“A what?”

“A shrew. You know—like a tiny mouse.”

“You found a shrew at the bus stop?”

“Yeah. I think it's dead.”

“Why do you have a dead shrew in your pocket?”

“Because I found it.”

“Yeah, but . . . never mind.”

I looked down at my lap. I looked at the ceiling. I looked across the aisle out the window. I looked in every direction except Arlo's but it didn't matter because I could feel him staring at me.

“Got a dollar?”

“No.”

* * *

When the bus got to school I jumped up and practically ran off but it wasn't because I couldn't wait to get inside and start learning. It was because I wanted to put as much space between me and Arlo as possible. I booked it down the hall and ended up being the first one in the classroom. That had never happened before. Even Ms. Dickson was shocked. Also I think I ruined Missy Sprout's day because she didn't get to be first this time. I wanted to tell her that this was a one-time thing for me and that I didn't like it any more than she did but she was glaring at me so bad that I actually got a little scared.

Budgie and Barely O'Donahue were the last two in from the playground. I tried to get Budgie's attention but couldn't because he was mostly staring at the floor. I heard him sit down and I started to turn around and then decided not to risk it. Missy Sprout was mad at me today and she just loved to tattle.

Recess finally came and on the playground Budgie, Barely O'Donahue, and a couple other kids were hanging out under the monkey bars. They had twigs in their mouths like they were cigarettes and were pretending to smoke because it was cold and you could see your breath.

“Hey, Budgie,” I said. “Where were you yesterday?”

“What do
you
want?”

“I thought of some more cool stuff we could have in our castle.”

Budgie kinda stopped. He quickly looked around at the other kids and then back at me.

“What castle?”

“You know—the one from Saturday. With the piranhadiles?”

“What's he talking about, Budgie?”

“Yeah, Budgie, what's he talking about? What castle?”

“I don't know,” said Budgie. “Sounds pretty stupid.”

“It's not stupid!”

“Yeah it is,” said Budgie.

“You didn't think it was so stupid when we were at your house!”

“Dude, Lamb was at your house? I thought you said he was your archenemy.”

“He is!”

“Did you guys have a playdate?”

“No, we didn't have a playdate!” said Budgie. “His mom couldn't get a babysitter or something. We were doing her a favor.”

My eyes started to sting. I felt a knot rise in my throat. The other kids were laughing a little and Budgie just stood there looking proud of himself.

I didn't understand. We'd had so much fun Saturday afternoon that I thought we were friends again but now he was being meaner than ever and I hadn't even done anything.

“But we had fun!”

“I was just pretending,” said Budgie. “And you believed it. Sucker! You're so lame!”

I just stood there. I couldn't think of what to say or what to do.

“Oh my God, are you
crying
?”

“No.”

“Yes, you are! You're crying! Where's your cape, Captain Lame-ass?”

I suddenly wanted to grab Budgie's head in both hands. I wanted to squeeze it until my whole body shook. I wanted to squeeze until Barely O'Donahue and the other kids yelled for a teacher. I wanted to squeeze his fat head until it popped.

But when the end of recess bell rang, I stood there looking at Budgie without having said or done anything. My hands were shaking. My stomach felt like it was full of broken glass. The wind made the tears on my cheeks turn cold. Budgie and Barely O'Donahue and the rest went past me. Budgie even bumped me with his shoulder as he walked by.

“Loser.”

I stood underneath the monkey bars until I was sure Budgie and the others were gone. I stood there until I was the only one left on the playground and I would have stood there for the rest of my life if the recess monitor hadn't started yelling at me to come back to class.

* * *

I might have been the first one in the classroom this morning but I was the last one in after recess. I hung up my jacket and went to my desk and didn't say anything to anybody.

“You're late, Derek,” said Ms. Dickson.

“Sorry.”

“Please don't let it happen again,” she said.

I stared at the top of my desk and didn't say anything, which must have been okay with Ms. Dickson because she started talking about something else. I was thinking about Budgie even though I didn't want to. In fact, I couldn't seem to stop thinking about him. Why would he say I was his archenemy? Had I done something to make him mad? I tried to remember everything we did on Saturday but thinking of all the fun we had just made me even more confused and angry.

“Ms. Dickson?”

“Yes, Derek.”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“You may. But make it quick. You should have taken care of that during recess.”

I didn't have to go during recess. I didn't even have to go now. I just couldn't sit in that room anymore. Not with Budgie there. I could feel him staring at the back of my head. I could hear the small whistle his nose made when he breathed. I even imagined I could smell eggs. But mostly I was frustrated and confused and sad and wouldn't be able to clear my head with Ms. Dickson trying to teach.

I felt better once I was in the hallway and even better once I was in the bathroom. I sat on the counter between the sinks, swinging my feet and turning the water on and off. No matter how hard I tried not to think about Budgie I thought about Budgie. I know Mom always said to be the bigger person but I just didn't want to anymore. Plus, I could eat a whale omelet for breakfast every day for the rest of my life and still not be a bigger person than Budgie.