List of Ten

by Halli Gomez

  I had to take myself out of the equation. If it was just about money, why not just ask for more? That’s what made this problem so huge. Obviously, I couldn’t admit the real reason I needed to find a replacement babysitter, so there was only one choice: tell him the truth. Sort of.

  The question was, which option to use?

  Option one: guilt. In this one I would explain that after six years, I finally had a social life. Of course, that meant money! And since I was more comfortable leaving the house these days (a small lie), I thought I’d do some odd jobs around the neighborhood.

  I sighed. I wasn’t sure that would work. It would mean convincing him I wanted to go outside and work until my muscles ached and my sweat stank so bad I offended myself. Any other kid would just ask for more money.

  Yeah, it had to be option two: extreme guilt.

  This had the same guilt-provoking reason as the first, with the addition of being an opportunity for Mr. Price to get used to Khory’s independence.

  Since I wasn’t as experienced at the whole smothering-your-kid-with-guilt thing as adults were, I had to be sure I didn’t overdo it. Too much and Dad would say no. Too little and he’d say no.

  Jude’s voice came through the monitor. Not a cry, but the ramblings of a baby deep in conversation with the stuffed turtle in his crib. I tossed my geography book on the table and went to his room. We went through the routine, then to the family room and plopped down in our usual spots. His smile warmed me. I slumped against the couch. I was going to miss knowing if he’d have lots of friends and what he would be when he grew up.

  I grabbed my book and opened to page 285, but the words swam around the page and my eyes crossed. Homework wasn’t going to happen right now. It could wait anyway. I needed to spend as much time with Jude as I could so that he’d remember me.

  My hand squeezed together, released, then squeezed again. Jude held a bear out for me. I took it and squished. He frowned. His teeny hand and fingers morphed into a twisted, broken skeleton. I pushed a train toward him. I had to talk to Dad tonight.

  “Jude, you want Khory to babysit you, right?”

  He looked up from the train at the sound of her name. Yeah, who wouldn’t.

  . . . . . . . . . .

  Dad rolled up his uniform sleeves and started making dinner. A bag of green beans in the microwave, pork on a plate to go in next, and instant mashed potatoes in a pot on the stove. Besides the hum of the microwave and occasional bang of a spoon, the kitchen was silent.

  Bad day? Was he tired? Maybe tonight wasn’t the best night to talk about babysitting, but Khory and I had everything worked out. She’d ask her dad. I’d ask mine. Then we’d compare notes, we hoped while our dads talked and worked out the details. We didn’t have an alternative plan if one of our parents was cranky.

  I set the table, and Dad brought two plates over. His eyes drooped. He sighed and plopped into the chair.

  “Bad day?” I separated my food.

  “Huh? Yes, I went to a call of an overdose. A teenager. Beautiful girl, smart, but played around with heroin like it was candy. I was with her parents when they signed the paperwork to commit her to a rehab facility.” He slumped in his seat and stared at his food.

  Heroin’s hardcore. I heard rumors about people doing it in my school. Even after teachers had shoved antidrug information down our throats every year since seventh grade. I know I smoked pot, but I wasn’t being judgmental. Heroin and pot, there was no comparison. Right?

  “How was your day?” he asked.

  “Good. Same as usual,” I said.

  Dad sliced open his pork, and I caught a smile as the steam escaped from the middle. Microwaves can be temperamental. Most of the time our food required a second heating. He fed Jude a few tiny pieces of pork and a glob of mashed potatoes. Jude ate it like it was chocolate cake. Just wait, buddy, you’ll get the good stuff soon. I counted and cut my food into ten pieces.

  “So . . .” I started.

  Then stopped. What was my problem?

  Dad watched me. Waiting for another knife incident? It pissed me off, so I just spit it out.

  “Can Khory babysit Jude a few days after school? I was thinking about doing some neighborhood jobs. Oh, and you’d have to pay her.”

  Dad stopped chewing and tilted his head. Wasn’t that clear? Okay, now I understood why we had debate projects in school. I took a deep breath: time to present the arguments.

  “See, now that I have a girlfriend, I’ll have to get Khory a birthday present. And Jay always drives, so I want to pay him for gas. Sometimes we get food. So it would be good to pay my way.”

  See what a good friend I was? Dad nodded, but before he could speak, I went on. Option two: extreme guilt.

  “It would be good for Khory, too. She’s a really responsible person, and if you let her do this, it would show her parents she can be independent. She has dreams and goals. To go out places. To travel. After school’s done, of course.”

  I let out a big exhale and squeezed the fork. “Wait! Please don’t tell her parents about traveling. It’s just an idea.”

  “Troy, it’s okay.” He put his hand on mine. I let go of the fork. “I won’t say anything. Actually, I’m happy. I would hate for her, or you, to be afraid to explore the world.”

  Yeah, goals, I got you. I had them, too. I moved the food around on my plate. “So, she can babysit?”

  “I figured the money issue would come up sooner or later. I should have offered to pay you more long before this.”

  “But I don’t want you to,” I said. “I kind of want to go out and do stuff.” I didn’t know what else to say. He’d never believe lines like “the hard work makes me feel good” or “I feel like I’ve accomplished something.” Please, I only felt that when I’d beaten a video game. So I left it at stuff.

  “I’m really happy you are getting out of the house, meeting friends, and that you have a girlfriend. I hated seeing you sit home every day. I wasn’t sure what to do, but you’ve taken charge and done it yourself.”

  If his minispeech wasn’t such a shock to me, I’d have made a joke about it being a therapy-type revelation Hardly Qualified would have been proud of. But that much emotion from him made my neck twitch faster. I didn’t know he was capable of it.

  “So, that’s a yes to Khory babysitting?”

  “Yes,” Dad said.

  “Can you talk to her Dad and let him know? It’ll probably be better coming from you.”

  “Sure. I’ll call him after dinner.”

  “Thanks!” My body tingled. My face scrunched up. Good stress.

  “What about you? Have you thought about what you want to do when you graduate?”

  I moved pieces of pork around my plate and regrouped them. We never talked about it because there wasn’t anything to say. I couldn’t tell him the truth.

  “I like space,” I said.

  “Yeah, I kind of figured since you still have the posters in your room, and the only place you’ve ever asked to go was the Air and Space Museum.”

  Not true, Dad. I asked to see Mom.

  “You are smart enough to do anything in that field you want. Maybe you’ll get some ideas this weekend.”

  Smart enough maybe, but not controlled enough.

  We finished eating and cleared the table. I offered to do all the dishes while Dad gave Jude a bath to speed things up. Khory texted and said she talked to her parents. Her dad was nervous but could be swayed if my dad sold it right. Ugh. Good luck with that. Dad was a facts-only kind of guy. There were 6,232 burglaries last year, and 2,177 robberies. Oh, and this year we’ll have to add one more to the drug-overdose count.

  I filled the sink and swirled the bubbles around like I was five and taking a bubble bath. I’d washed one pot by the time Dad came back in the kitchen with a wet shirt and Jude in Thomas the Train footie pajamas. My neck twitched double time.

  I took a deep breath and let it out. I squeezed my hand, and water and soap squirted from the sponge
across the counter. I tried something new to relax. With my eyes closed, I pictured an empty warehouse. Then the space shuttle behind the gray rope. Then me.

  “Hank? Hi, it’s Clark.”

  I spun around flinging soap on the floor. Mr. Price, please don’t let us down. I dried my hands and grabbed my phone.

  ME: They’re talking.

  KHORY: Are you listening? I will now

  ME: Yes

  I lingered by the sink pretending to wash dishes. I didn’t want Dad to think I was eavesdropping, but if he wanted privacy, he could have gone in the other room.

  “Troy wants to start doing odd jobs around the neighborhood,” Dad said. He put Jude on the floor, then sat at the table and flipped through the mail. He nodded a few times and mumbled, “um huh.”

  My phone beeped.

  KHORY: They’re talking about you.

  ME: Good?

  KHORY: Yes.

  “It’s been a big change, but I’m glad he’s getting out there.”

  Ugh. I hated when people talked about me, and knowing Khory was listening made it ten times worse.

  Dad listened, then frowned.

  “I understand. Yes. I can’t imagine. Um huh.”

  KHORY: They’re talking about me

  ME: Good?

  KHORY: No

  My chest tightened. Not good about her, or she couldn’t babysit? I squeezed the sponge over and over. Decision made after a two-minute conversation? I threw the sponge in the sink, went to the table, and stood next to Dad. He stared at the mail and shuffled through the envelopes again. He glanced at me, then put them in a neat stack and turned them face down.

  “Jude is eleven months old,” Dad said to Mr. Price.

  I stared at him. Give me something. A hint. Good or bad. I brought my hands up, palms open. Dad shrugged. Mr. Price was still undecided. Well, that was encouraging. Anything’s better than a flat-out no.

  “Yes, we have an alarm,” Dad said.

  KHORY: No

  What? I collapsed in the chair. How could Mr. Price say no? Khory and I needed this so much.

  “I understand. Yes, absolutely. Um huh. See you then. Bye.” Dad peeked at me, scooped up the mail, and stood up. “He said no. Well, not right now. He wants to give it some thought.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled.

  Dad hiked Jude up on his hip and sighed. He looked worn out, but his face softened. I appreciated him trying, and my heart ached knowing the secret I kept. These were little steps for him. I wished they’d come sooner. I turned away and put my head down.

  “He did say he’d think about it,” Dad said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah.” But it was a lie.

  I went to my room and lay in bed. This would have been huge for Khory and her dad. By the time we graduated high school, they would have been ready for anything. Then it hit me. Actually, smacked me in the face. I said we. When we graduated. That was two and a half years away, and I’d be a memory by then.

  My neck twitched ten times. Fast and hard. I rubbed it, then rolled over on my right side. It hurt that way, too. See, nothing had changed. I wasn’t having second thoughts. Somehow Khory’s life would be great, and just because mine seemed incredible right now, it didn’t change anything. Especially when I knew Khory would be brave like Katniss and leave. I pulled my phone off my night table, went to my list.

  1. Meet someone else with Tourette syndrome—COMPLETED

  2. Give away my Tim Howard autographed pictured

  3. Get my first kiss—COMPLETED

  4. Be pain-free—COMPLETED

  5. Find a babysitter for my baby brother—IN PROGRESS

  6. See the space shuttle—MARCH 20?

  7. Talk about Tourette in public

  8. Drive a car

  9. Talk to Mom

  10. Commit suicide

  MARCH 20

  Imagine Dragons music played through my phone. I popped up and threw off the blanket. Saturday morning. Seven o’clock. I had to pack, then pump coffee into Dad so we could pick up Khory and Mr. Price. We had a space shuttle to see.

  I grabbed my phone and ran to the kitchen. Jude’s voice met me before I got there. He was in his high chair up to his elbows in a yellow mashed-up something that couldn’t be identified without a forensics kit. But he obviously liked it, because he palmed the concoction into his mouth.

  Terri sat across from him, her hand wrapped around a steaming coffee cup. Her body may have been in the upright position, but her brain wasn’t. She lifted her head a millimeter. “You’re up early.”

  “The Discovery! We’re going to the Air and Space Museum today.” I checked the time on my phone. “Where’s Dad? Did he pack already?”

  “Why don’t you have breakfast? Your dad should be up soon.”

  I poured cereal and milk into a bowl and sat next to Jude. The cereal wasn’t appetizing after seeing the mush stuck to his arm. Either that or my stomach wasn’t calm enough to actually eat anything, and it wasn’t ideal to mix food, a queasy stomach, and a long car ride with my girlfriend.

  I poured breakfast down the sink and went to my room to pack. Dad and Mr. Price thought it would be fun to do the tourist thing in Washington, D.C., first. Whatever. As long as I got to see the space shuttle and spend all weekend with Khory. I dumped the books out of my backpack and stuffed in an extra pair of jeans, underwear, and a shirt. I got dressed, balled up my pajamas, and stuck them in, too. Then brushed my teeth and took my medicine. Ten minutes. Ready.

  Dad, on the other hand, stood by my bedroom door in worn-out sweatpants and a T-shirt. I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t what anyone would call fashionable, but even I wouldn’t go outside like that.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll change.”

  Seven thirty. I texted Khory. Based on the number of bottles and brushes in her bathroom, packing could take a while.

  ME: Are you awake?

  KHORY: Yes.

  ME: Ready?

  KHORY: Yes. Waiting for you.

  I went to Dad’s room. His bathroom door was closed. What if there was traffic? I took a deep breath and leaned against his bedroom doorway. The invisible hand squeezed my chest. My neck twitched, and my hands squeezed together. What if the car broke down and we never made it? I hit my chest to jump-start my lungs and tried to take a breath. A tiny bit of air got in. Just enough to keep me from passing out.

  Dad came out of the bathroom. “Relax. I’m going to fill a travel mug with coffee. Give me ten minutes. Why don’t you put my bag in the trunk?”

  “Okay.” I picked up his duffel bag and went to the car. I must have gone through a thousand rounds of ten before he finally came out and said it was time to go.

  . . . . . . . . . .

  Khory waited for us on the driveway. Her hair was shiny and smooth, and the sun highlighted strands of red.

  Dad pulled to the curb.

  “Don’t park on the grass,” I said. “Mr. Price is very anal about his yard.”

  “I’m good. I’m on the street.”

  Khory ran to the car as I got out. She gave me a quick kiss and bounced up and down. I thought space was my interest, but I loved that she shared my excitement. She glanced at my dad, then at me and back to my dad. Wait. I knew that move. They had a secret.

  “Go ahead and tell him,” Dad said. “It was your idea.”

  “Do you remember when Jay told us about Gravity Redefined?” Khory asked.

  The zero-gravity place where you could feel like an astronaut? The one that was thousands of dollars?

  I nodded, but with all my twitching and scrunching, they probably didn’t notice. “Yeah,” I said.

  Khory beamed. “Mrs. Frances knows one of the people who works there. He runs the academic program for high school students.”

  My body tingled. I wanted her to say we’d be going there, but it was thousands of dollars.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Not just okay. Mrs. Frances arranged for us to get a tour and for you and her to do
the simulator.” She grabbed my hand. “Aren’t you excited?”

  “I’m . . .” I looked at Dad. Not that I didn’t believe her, but I must have heard her wrong. “Is this true?”

  “Yes. Khory came up with the plan and worked out all the details.”

  “And Mrs. Frances is going, too?” I asked.

  “Of course,” Khory said. “She said it’s part of the summer program she mentioned. Apparently, you’re the guinea pig.”

  I figured eventually I’d be the test subject for something, but I assumed it would be a radical non-FDA-approved medication or electroshock therapy. Who knew it would be for something as awesome as zero gravity?

  I pulled Khory to me and hugged her. “Thank you. Thank you,” I whispered in her ear. I squeezed her tighter. With her close, the pain and embarrassment were tolerable. She was the drug I needed to survive.

  Mr. Price walked up, and Khory and I separated. We stuffed their bags into the trunk and got on the road. Gravity Redefined was in New York, so we were skipping D.C. and driving straight there. I sank into the seat and watched her read Lord of the Flies. We promised to get our homework done in the car, so I turned back to my own book, read, and reread the first page of chapter three before finally giving up. It was nowhere near as interesting as she was.

  I reached toward her hand and held it, which made the urge to touch it nonexistent. Khory glanced over and smiled, even when I squeezed too hard.

  She put her book down. “So, have you gotten any calls about jobs?”

  “Yeah, I’ve gotten two from women.” Ugh. I sounded like a player. Heat rose in my cheeks. I needed note cards to talk to her, or an earpiece with someone cool feeding me lines. “I meant guys wouldn’t call me to do stuff like rake leaves and clean cobwebs.”

  “I think with the money you make, you should take me to New Mexico to see the world’s largest pistachio.”

  I laughed. “Really, the world’s largest pistachio?”

  “It’s a real place, I swear,” she said.

  “Okay, I believe you. I guess,” I said.