Same Planet - Different World PREVIEW EDITION (The First 12 Chapters)

by Ben Clabaugh

CHAPTER 10

  David awoke the next morning to brash mid-morning sunlight blasting through the window-panes, heating the room like a greenhouse. Pete, lying next to the bed, his head on his paws, looked up and thumped his tail on the floor as David sat up. He checked the clock, surprised that it was after eleven. He cocked his head, listening. The house was empty, once again.

  David stood and waited, testing how he felt. He was starving. That had to be a good sign. He headed for the kitchen, Pete rushing ahead.

  After examining his options in the refrigerator, he pulled out a packet of bologna, a Kraft single, a jar of mustard, and loaf of white bread. As the door swung shut, movement through the window drew his eye. Looking out, he saw Shelton standing in the shade of his patio, wearing a long-sleeved shirt, wide-brimmed straw hat, and baggy pants. His arms hung down at his sides, and he appeared to be looking back through the window at David. David ducked, put the sandwich stuff down on the table, and edged back across the floor to the far side of the room.

  He thought back to the night before. He didn’t remember his mom on the phone talking to Mrs. Skievaski, but that didn’t mean she didn’t call that morning to arrange something. He held his breath, watching across the kitchen through the window to see what Shelton would do.

  Shelton stood, unmoving, for several more minutes, then turned and disappeared through the sliding glass door into his family room.

  Unexpectedly, David was a little disappointed. He poured a glass of milk, made his sandwich, and sat down to eat. Pete eagerly accepted a piece of bologna. As David ate he made a mental list of all the things he could think of to do to pass the time.

  It was a short list.

  He thought of finishing the trek he had begun the day before, but the idea felt more like taking care of unfinished business than something fun and exciting. He could ride his bike around, although the only place he knew how to get to, he could not go.

  The real problem, he knew, was that virtually all the fun things to do around the house—playing catch, hitting rocks into the pasture with his mom’s tennis racket, playing cards—were no fun without someone to do them with, which led him back to Shelton.

  He’d kind of started to get used to the other kid. But he was just so…. strange.

  David thought of the kids at the ball field. He pictured Shelton, his large round eyes, high forehead, and slightly too-big head, and the way he walked—a sort of flat-footed shamble. Then he thought of the look on the left-fielder’s face and the eager anticipation in many of the faces that floated in the background of his vision.

  Strangers in adjacent cars or in the crowd at a stadium were one thing, but God, David thought. Those kids’d tear him apart!

  The thought chilled him. What would he do? Shelton may not be his favorite person in the world, but they had spent lots of time together. David may not be able to sit and actually describe many of the things they did together, but then again he did not have the impression that the time was ever wasted or boring. Was Shelton weird? Yes. But weird in the summer was okay. Weird at school…. well, that was just not tolerated.

  For the first time, David tried to imagine that first day of school with Shelton. He had imagined it dozens, maybe even hundreds, of times before. But then, he had imagined himself walking into the school alone.

  David had pondered how he should act, and what he should say. He spent a few days trying out catch phrases. You knew you were cool if people began using your words in everyday use, like. But everything he thought of sounded forced and lame even to his own ears. He rehearsed how he would say hello, casual head bobs, and spent one frantic week wondering whether or not kids around here shook hands when they met, or not.

  He wondered if he would be able to spot who would be his new friends right away or if they would just sort of fall into place over time. He knew the shelf life of any new kid was short—no more than a couple of days. If The New Kid had not found a place within a couple of days, he would have no place at all and be forced into the crowd of misfits at the shallow end of the social pool—and no one ever made it out of there.

  David thought again of the brief encounter with the father and the little boy in the stadium parking lot. He remembered how he had moved away from Shelton, to the other side of his father, and he felt his face flush with shame.

  Then he was angry. He had nothing to be ashamed of. If anyone should feel guilty, it should be his dad. David had not asked for Shelton to come, and he sure as heck didn’t ask to be forced to spend every day with him. He didn’t ask to move here. He didn’t ask for any of it. So why should he feel responsible if some guy thinks Shelton’s a contagious retard, or if he gets beat up by a bunch of kids David had hoped to make his friends?

  Because you are his only friend, and he is yours, said a quiet voice in the back of his mind and he remembered how he had felt as the two of them smiled, waved, and hollered like idiots in the back of the station wagon.

  David stood, shook his head, and placed his hands on the table. He was confused and needed someone to talk to. But who? His parents wouldn’t listen, and even if they did, they wouldn’t understand.

  He missed Janie more than ever right then. She may not be able to help, may not even be able to completely understand, but she would listen, wide-eyed and attentive. And seeing his distress, she would reach up, wrap her little arms around his neck, and pat him maternally on the back as she had seen their mother do. It would not solve his problem, but it sure would make him feel better.