Highly Illogical Behavior

by John Corey Whaley

  “Lisa, he talks about you all the time. Always good. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just missing the gang, I guess. You down for some company?”

  “You know the answer to that,” he said. “We also have a Munchkin tournament to finish.”

  “Yes, we do. Clark’s at work, so we’ll be over around five, okay?”

  That afternoon, as soon as they pulled into the driveway and got out of Lisa’s car, Solomon swung open the front door wearing a plastic Viking helmet and holding up a toy sword.

  “Tonight, we dine in hell!” he yelled as they walked up.

  “We must have the wrong house,” Lisa said.

  “Prepare to be slaughtered!” Clark yelled, running past her and into the doorway, where he grabbed the sword and pointed it toward her.

  “Good luck,” she said. “I brought my A game today, boys. It’s going to be rough.”

  “She’s got to go down,” Clark said as she strutted by him.

  Halfway into the first game, neither of them had a snowball’s chance in hell of beating her. Three games later, she was still undefeated. When the tournament was finally over, Solomon threw his cards down in fake anger and Clark fell to the floor like she’d stabbed him in the heart.

  “Who wants a rematch?” Lisa said maniacally.

  “I need a break,” Solomon said. “I thought I really missed you until this bloodbath.”

  “What are they teaching you at summer camp?” Clark asked.

  “The only thing I learned is that Janis is sort of a bitch and Sloppy Joes are still disgusting.”

  “I can’t believe you won’t let me meet her,” Solomon said. “She sounds so . . . fun.”

  “I think she hates me,” Clark added.

  “Who could hate you?” Solomon asked.

  “I know, right?” Clark stood up and walked over to the sliding glass door. He looked out at the backyard and then turned toward Solomon.

  “You ready for tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Don’t know.”

  Solomon got up and walked over to stand beside him. He gazed out at the empty pool, half filled with moonlight and half with darkness. And the only thing he could think about was how useless it was without water—just a weird-shaped concrete hole in the backyard.

  “Maybe you should go out there tonight,” Lisa said.

  “What? Why?”

  “Your parents aren’t home. So that pressure’s off. Maybe we all just walk right outside like it’s nothing.”

  “Like it’s nothing?” Solomon asked. “It’s not nothing.”

  “I know,” she said. “But we can make it nothing, Sol. Let’s make it nothing.”

  She walked over and reached for his hand. For a second, he thought about giving it to her, about letting her drag him out there and getting it over with. Pull it like a Band-Aid, his grandma would say. But he couldn’t.

  “Not tonight, Lisa.”

  “Tomorrow then,” Clark said, quickly patting Solomon’s right shoulder with one hand. “It’s going to be great, buddy.”

  • • •

  Solomon couldn’t sleep that night. He wished it were like Christmas when he was a kid—that nervous excitement keeping him up in anticipation of a living room full of new toys and gadgets. But it was more like an aching pit in his stomach, a deep, low pain that pulsated all night and constantly reminded him of what the next day would bring.

  At three in the morning, he tiptoed down the hallway in just a pair of pajama pants. He stepped into the living room, staring at the sliding glass door like he was staring deep into the void of space, a black hole leading into a world that had been so far out of his reach for so long. He moved closer, close enough to grip the door handle. Close enough to see his breath on the glass. And then he slid it open.

  He didn’t move. But the cool early morning breeze swirled around in his face, lifting patches of his shaggy hair, and making him shiver. He wasn’t going to cry or anything. And he didn’t feel anxious or especially loopy, either. He was so close to the outside, but he was still standing, and that helped his breathing even out a bit. His heartbeat was strong, but not frantic like all the other times he’d secretly tried to go out there. All those times he’d never told anyone about. Now it was different, though. He was ready. And the pain in his stomach was starting to go away. So he just went for it.

  He stepped outside. And then he kept going, until he was walking down the pool steps and into the deep end. When he got there, where the drain sat brand-new and ready, he lay down on the faux-pebble surface and looked up at the stars.

  And that’s where they found him sleeping the next morning.

  TWENTY

  LISA PRAYTOR

  Most people her age wouldn’t have been awake at eight thirty a.m. when Solomon called the next day, but Lisa wasn’t like most people. She’d already showered, gotten dressed, straightened her hair, and had a bagel with cream cheese. Sleeping in was for the unmotivated.

  “You’re up early,” she answered.

  “Guess where I am.”

  “Very funny.”

  “No, really. Guess.”

  “Your bedroom?”

  “I’m in the backyard, Lisa.”

  “Shut your mouth.”

  “I won’t. I can’t. I’m outside. It’s nice out here, right?”

  “Oh my God, Sol.”

  “Listen to me. I’m okay. Why aren’t you over here yet? Where’s Clark?”

  “Is there even any water in the pool?”

  “They just started filling it up. Said we could swim at five or six. I’m not sure I can make it that long.”

  “Wait, you’re outside right now?”

  “Yeah, sitting in the grass. I didn’t realize I missed doing this.”

  “Wow . . . this is . . .”

  “It was weird. I couldn’t sleep. At all. So in the middle of the night, I just opened the door and walked out here.”

  “Amazing.”

  “I fell asleep in the pool.”

  “You what?”

  “Dad found me before he left for work. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

  “I can imagine,” she said. “I bet your mom cried.”

  “She was already at work. But I’m sure she’ll attack me when she gets home.”

  “This is so great, Sol. How do you feel right now?”

  “Like I passed the entrance exam for Starfleet Academy.”

  “I’m going to guess that means good.”

  “I feel awesome. Did you know you can hear the freeway from my backyard?”

  “Mine too,” she said. “I’m going to call and wake Clark up and then head over. Don’t get tired of being outside before we get there.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Lisa couldn’t get Clark on the phone, so she drove over to his mom’s and banged on the door until someone answered. It was Drew and she was not happy to be awake.

  “Lisa?” she said, sleepy-eyed.

  “Hey, sorry. Is he here?” She stepped around her and walked down the hallway toward his room. She thought about knocking, but she didn’t. She walked right in and found him asleep with one leg hanging over the side of the bed and his face completely covered by a blanket.

  “Clark?” she whispered loudly. He didn’t move. “Clark!”

  He shot up and out of the bed so fast that Lisa jumped back, afraid he’d start swinging his fists or something. Then she laughed and looked him up and down.

  “Clark, you’re naked.”

  “Shit. Sorry.” He grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around himself. Then he sat down on the bed.

  “This I did not know about you,” she said. “Must get cold.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eight forty-five. I know it’s early, but Sol went outside.”
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  “What?”

  “Yeah. He just called me. We have to go see this.”

  “Okay. Right. Umm . . . don’t look.”

  He quickly stood up and slid on a pair of boxers that was lying on the floor. Lisa pretended not to look, but it had been a while since she’d been alone with him and even longer since she’d seen this much of his body.

  “I mean, we could wait fifteen minutes or so,” she said suggestively, reaching over to grab his wrist.

  “Are you kidding me?” He pulled his arm away. “He’s outside. We’ve gotta get over there.”

  With a defeated look on her face, Lisa watched as he threw on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Then, just as she stood up to follow him out, he turned back and gave her a huge smile.

  “I need swim trunks, don’t I?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “And sunscreen.”

  On the drive over, Clark couldn’t stop talking about how proud he was of their friend. He used words like pumped and psyched and every time he said Solomon’s name, Lisa felt a little pang of jealousy. He’d just had the chance to sleep with his girlfriend and instead he was going on and on about someone else. Lisa had created this monster, but she no longer had any control over it.

  “I told you it would work,” she said.

  “You’re joking, right?” Clark asked, rolling his eyes.

  “But, look what it’s done,” she defended. “He’s outside. It’s only a matter of time before he goes even farther.”

  “Okay, Dr. Praytor,” he said with sarcasm.

  Lisa thought he was joking, but the second she went to speak again, she noticed the serious look on his face and stopped herself. The rest of the ride was silent, with Lisa staring straight ahead at the road and Clark looking down at his phone. When they pulled up in the driveway, she turned to him and didn’t have to say anything for him to respond.

  “Lisa, hear me out. If you write that essay, I’m telling him,” he said, never looking her way as he got out of the car.

  When they stepped into the backyard, there he was, wearing a pair of sunglasses and lying back on a lounge chair, his arms up over his head. Lisa hadn’t seen Solomon without a shirt on before and she could definitely tell he hadn’t lied about all those crunches. Clark ran across the yard and started lifting Solomon up off the chair to give him a hug.

  “Look what this guy’s been hiding!” he yelled to Lisa, pointing at Solomon’s pale, bare torso.

  “You’re going to be a lobster,” she said. “Do you have sunscreen on?”

  “I do. I swear,” Solomon answered.

  Clark lifted up one of Solomon’s arms and smelled it.

  “He’s lying,” he said. “Here, we brought some.”

  “Thanks.” Solomon rubbed the sunscreen on his arms and then Lisa walked over to help him get his back.

  “If you die of skin cancer, we won’t have anywhere to swim,” she said.

  They sat outside watching the pool slowly fill with water. Solomon didn’t seem to be tired of the sun yet, so they figured they’d stay out there for as long as he wanted. And every time he got up and walked to a new part of the yard, Lisa watched him like he was an astronaut walking around on some distant planet, his every step further proof that anything is possible.

  “How much longer?” Solomon asked them, nearly shouting from the other side of the yard. It looked like he’d been inspecting the flowers under his parents’ window, but Lisa wasn’t sure.

  “Well,” Clark said loudly, “with a hose that size, about five-eighths of an inch in diameter, you’re delivering seventeen gallons of water per minute, which is one thousand twenty gallons an hour, so . . . with a five-thousand-gallon pool, it should take about five more hours.”

  “What the hell?” Solomon asked, walking up to them.

  “He read it off his phone,” Lisa said.

  Clark held up his phone and gave Solomon a big smile. Then he hopped up onto his feet and told them to pose for a picture.

  “We have to document this important day in history,” he said.

  Solomon bent down and put one arm around Lisa’s shoulders. This was the most he’d ever touched her and she couldn’t help but flinch a little out of shock.

  “Sorry,” he said, pulling away.

  “No.” She grabbed his arm to keep it in place.

  Clark had been taking pictures of the three of them for weeks, but he usually tried to keep it as subtle as possible, quickly snapping a shot of Lisa and Solomon as they looked down at their cards or watched TV. Lisa noticed every time, though, and now she wondered what she’d find on his phone from all the days she’d spent away. Surely he wouldn’t have taken photos of Solomon all by himself. That would be strange, wouldn’t it? But, even if he did, then so what? Friends take pictures of their friends all the time. It was perfectly normal. She didn’t need to check his phone. That wouldn’t help anything. It was all so stupid. Janis had really gotten to her, and she was starting to find it a bit more aggravating than it was amusing.

  “Hey,” she said. “Let’s go in and eat something, huh? Sol, can you sacrifice a few minutes of daylight. Don’t want to get too tired of it on day one.”

  “I guess,” he said, faking disappointment. “I’m starving anyway.”

  “I want peanut butter and jelly,” Clark said. “All of it. All of it that’s in the world.”

  “My mom buys extra for him,” Solomon told Lisa.

  Then Clark froze just outside of the door and turned to face them.

  “You’re not going to be stuck again if we go inside are you?”

  “Dude,” Solomon said, stepping past him and through the doorway. “I’ve been doing this all day. Relax.”

  Once inside, they made their way to the kitchen, where she listened to the two of them banter back and forth about how to make the perfect pb&j. They both had it all wrong. You’ve got to stir the peanut butter and jelly together before applying it to the bread. Then they sort of ventured off into their own little world and left Lisa sitting there to watch, unable to get a word in edgewise.

  Maybe that was her fault, for all the time she’d spent quietly observing them and studying Solomon’s tics and triggers. It was like they spoke a language she’d only just forgotten. She could pick up on some of their references, but mostly found herself completely lost in their jargon.

  So, Lisa eventually stopped trying to understand them and let her mind drift back to her conversation with Clark. She knew he’d probably never forgive her if she wrote that essay. But, she also knew she had to. It was a surefire way to save herself and she was too close to give up now. Just as Solomon needed to leave the house, Lisa needed to leave Upland. He was better. She did that. She deserved to get out, too.

  TWENTY-ONE

  SOLOMON REED

  For Solomon, swimming was the opposite of a panic attack. Fluid and calm and quiet. The world was muffled just enough when he went under, and the way the wind felt on his wet skin when he came up for air made him forget he was closer to all the things that scared him so much and had for so long.

  As he got into the pool for the first time, his family and friends looking on in silence, he felt like he could cry. And he did, but just a little, and to avoid it being a big deal, he fell face-first into the water and then came up smiling. After that, he wouldn’t stop swimming long enough for anyone to ask if he was okay. But, of course he was. Nothing worked like the water.

  When Solomon’s dad cannonballed into the pool, he waded over to his son and made a big show out of trying to kiss him on the forehead. And all his mom could do was take pictures, this look in her eyes like she was documenting a miracle. Finally, after they’d been begging her for an hour, she got in the pool and joined them for Marco Polo.

  “He’ll never get him,” Solomon said to his mom and Lisa. They were all sitting on the edge of the pool in the
shallow end by the stairs, an area Solomon’s dad had designated as the Loser Zone. He’d caught all three of them but hadn’t even gotten close to Clark once.

  He drifted slowly through the water like an alligator watching its prey, his nose above the surface just enough to breathe and the rest of him hidden underneath. He’d let Solomon’s dad get close enough to touch him and he’d answer Polo in a whisper then sort of magically float right by him to one side. He was taunting him and every time he did hold his face out of the water, he’d shoot a huge grin over toward his audience.

  Solomon, Clark, and Lisa stayed in the pool long enough to see the sun set and slowly watch the moon creep up to the center of the sky. They only got out to eat, pee, or when their fingers turned so pruney they started aching. Around ten, after Solomon’s parents had gone to bed, the three of them lay side by side, Solomon in the middle, with their feet in the water and their backs resting on the cold, pebbly ground that surrounded the pool.

  “If this were an indie movie, we’d start talking about the constellations,” Solomon said, looking up at the stars.

  “I always thought Ursa Major would be a cool name,” Clark said. “Hi, I’m Ursa Major Robbins. Nice to meet you.”

  “Ursa Major Reed, Attorney at Law,” Solomon added. “God, I missed this view.”

  “It is pretty damn good, isn’t it?” Lisa said.

  At midnight, they finally said good-bye. He walked them to the front door, a towel around his waist and his half-wet hair sticking up and out in all directions. Lisa kissed him on the cheek and whispered into his ear. I’m so proud of you, she said. Then Clark attacked him with a bear hug that raised him off his feet. And, despite it hurting his mildly sunburned arms, that was the best hug of his life.

  Once they were gone, he walked back outside and sat by the pool. There were no lights on in the backyard except for the one that shone from the deep end and cast a whitish-blue glow all over Solomon’s skin. He dipped his feet in the water, watching ripples as they moved out in tiny little glowing waves and he closed his eyes to listen to the only sound he could hear, water lapping against the side of the pool.