Ten Thousand Tries

by Amy Makechnie

  I’m so busy not thinking, I don’t even remember the phone left under the chairs.

  The Covered Bridge

  It’s hard to beat someone who never quits.

  —BENNY HO

  I wake up early the next morning still smiling.

  There’s hammering outside, cars driving into our driveway.

  Jaimes looks over at me. “You know who you’re playing in the championship, right? Merrimack.”

  I sit up. I was so excited last night I didn’t even ask.

  Merrimack! Biggest Mudbury rival there is.

  “You know why Shaker isn’t playing against Merrimack in the championship game? Because they got beat by Franconia.”

  “What! How? We beat them six-zero and Shaker demolished us.”

  She shrugs. “Who knows. Off day? Or maybe number eight was at the dentist. Or maybe there are more forces at play than we know.”

  My eyes open wide. Forces at play? Like what? Like whom? Grandma Ho’s dead ancestors? Raymond Von Mousetrap?

  “I remember going to the last regular-season game against Merrimack when I was in middle school,” Jaimes continues. “It was the first time Mudbury Middle had ever even had a chance at making the championship. We lost by one in overtime—remember that?” She shudders. “It still haunts me.” She leans forward. “Golden, you’ve got to beat them.”

  Geez, no pressure.

  “Mindset,” Jaimes says, tapping her head.

  Okay. We will beat Merrimack the way Jaimes’s team couldn’t.

  She appraises me, hearing my competitive thoughts. “And remember whose shoulders you stand on. Mine.”

  We’re interrupted by Mom calling us to come downstairs. It’s there that we will prepare to watch the entire town descend on our lawn.

  We can’t just build a normal ramp like normal families.

  The small ramp that Slick’s dad put down is being converted into a timber-frame covered bridge that requires a contractor, builders, and the entire town of Mudbury. We do this because Dad has always wanted to build a covered bridge, and because Mom says a covering will protect Dad from rain and snow and mud season. I’m glad to hear she’s finally thinking long-term. You know, at least three seasons from now.

  Mom says Dad’s going to show everyone how to build it. Since he can barely speak more than a couple of words at a time, I’m wondering how exactly he’s going to show everyone anything.

  “Someone’s here,” Dad calls from outside. Roma, Whitney, and I look out the window, and my mouth drops in a horrified O.

  “The witch,” I whisper. “Gag Me.”

  “On her broom?” Roma whispers.

  “She’s driving a car—obviously a cover,” Whitney says. It’s a little white Subaru with steel-studded snow tires—probably so it will hurt more when she runs over small children.

  She gets out, looking tiny and harmless. I suddenly remember the tissue she left on my seat.

  “I think she might have a heart,” I say.

  “That’ssss the spirit,” Dad says.

  Thankfully, the rest of Mudbury isn’t too far behind Gag Me, including many of my soccer teammates and their parents. I even invited Ziggy and Moses. When Mom and Dad go out to greet everyone, Jaimes corners me.

  “Golden, Lucy’s mom is freaking out. She still can’t find her phone!” She puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrows.

  My mind goes blank.

  Phone?

  THE PHONE.

  “They’re downloading an app to find it and they’re going to know you have it, so I suggest you put it back right now.”

  I search my memory. Where’s the phone?

  Car.

  Dance.

  I had it in the bathroom.

  But not when I did the worm.

  Not when I danced with Lucy.

  I didn’t come home with it.

  I…

  In the gym… under the chairs.

  “It’s at the school!”

  “Well, they’re going to find it and know you took it and you’ll be so busted,” Jaimes says. “Your fingerprints are all over it.”

  “Help me! You have your license. You have to take me there before the Dark Lord gets there first.”

  “You seriously still call him that?”

  “Please, Jaimes,” I beg.

  “Oh, now you want to drive with me?”

  “Please.”

  Her eyes soften as I clasp my hands together. And I don’t mean to, but I’m close to tears.

  She looks out the window.

  “I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here.”

  But we do because Jaimes tells Mom we should have drinks and snacks for everyone.

  “DRIVE!” I yell as soon as we’re out of the driveway. She presses on the gas. “Ahhhh! Slow down!”

  On the way down the hill, we see Benny walking up.

  Jaimes slows and rolls down her window.

  “Get in!” I say. “Rescue mission!”

  He climbs in and Jaimes guns it.

  “Rescue mission?” Benny asks. “Can I call my parents? They’re going to your house right now.”

  “Don’t tell them where we’re going!” I yell.

  “Where are we going?”

  I tell him about the phone.

  Benny’s phone dings.

  “Text from Lucy,” Benny says, holding up his phone. “George is driving to the school right now.”

  “Stall him, Benny!” I say.

  “I’m in the car with you! But it gets worse, dude. They think Lucy took the phone but won’t admit it.”

  I smack my head with my hand.

  “The janitor probably already found the phone,” Jaimes says. “You’re busted either way. If you don’t get expelled or sent to jail or grounded for life it will be a miracle. You’ve probably just written yourself out of the championship game.”

  Not once has this consequence ever crossed my mind. I was only trying to sabotage the Dark Lord. Was I really sabotaging myself?

  I feel a pit in my stomach, wishing I could get a twenty-four-hour life do-over.

  “Golden, you’ve got to stop—”

  “I know! I swear. But first the phone!”

  We get to the school in one piece.

  It’s Saturday morning. The doors are locked. There is only one car in the parking lot. Mr. T’s.

  We run around to every window and door, banging on them.

  Finally, a door opens.

  Mr. T steps out and lets us in. I run to the gym without explaining.

  The phone isn’t there.

  “Looking for this?” Mr. T asks. He holds up Lucy’s mother’s phone.

  I reach my hand out just as it begins to ring.

  “It says ‘George,’ ” Mr. T says.

  “Don’t answer!”

  “I think you should answer,” Mr. T says.

  “I definitely should NOT answer.”

  He slides the open button and hands it to me.

  There is a deep voice on the other end.

  The Dark Lord speaks my name.

  “Golden.”

  * * *

  When we get outside I realize our mistake. We parked our huge white whale of a van in the parking lot! We couldn’t be more conspicuous.

  Fear the size of a lightning bolt courses through my head, along my spine, and all the way down to my toes.

  I walk to the Dark Lord.

  “Phone found!” I say. “In the school—I heard you were looking for it, so we thought…” My voice trails off as he shakes his head.

  “This doesn’t make any sense,” he says. “Lucy has a phone.”

  Lucy is in the front seat looking miserable. She knows I took it and yet there she is—covering for me.

  I stay mute.

  He shakes his head and walks to the car. “Thanks for finding it. See you at the house? Big project today.”

  I nod, feeling a terrible pit in my stomach.

  He climbs in.

>   “Wait!” I yell.

  Lucy watches me.

  “Oh boy,” Benny says under his breath.

  I trudge to his car. “Well, the thing is, Lucy didn’t take the phone. I did. And I’m really sorry. It was a mistake. I mean, it wasn’t a mistake, but I shouldn’t have done it. It was me who left the phone here—that really was a mistake.”

  He tips his head at me, looking even more confused.

  “I can prove it was me. You’ll find my fingerprints on the phone.”

  “I don’t think we’ll be taking—”

  “Also,” I say, “I may have… told someone on that phone last night that…”

  “Yes?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

  “That the house was no longer for sale?”

  He doesn’t say anything for an excruciatingly long time.

  “I’ll see you at the house,” he finally answers.

  Jaimes was right.

  I have so stupidly put my fate in the hands of the Dark Lord.

  * * *

  By the time we get back home, I’m about to barf from all the trouble I’m going to be in, and the covered bridge project is in full swing. Dad has everyone staining big pieces of wood. We drop off the snacks and drinks before carrying wood from one place to another—and stealing potato chips from the lunch table. All the while I do my best to avoid Lucy’s mom and George. I keep waiting for them to go over to Mom or Dad, but so far they don’t.

  As the cover is assembled, we’re told to back off and let the adults do the heavy roof lifting.

  There are about forty adults on the ramp, wood laid down across it. Dad sits in his wheelchair at the end like the captain of a ship.

  “No one moves until I… say so,” Dad says, struggling to project his voice.

  The adults freeze, lean in to hear.

  “We’re trying to lift an entire side all together at the same time,” Mom explains. She glances at Dad. “Ready?”

  “ONE,” Dad says. “Two. Three… lift together.”

  There is push and there is pull, like how we get Dad to stand up. Mom is on one side of the frame with a dozen people, Jaimes on the other side with another dozen. Very slowly the frame starts to rise.

  It’s so quiet I can almost hear the hearts beating, foreheads perspiring.

  They do the same thing for the other side.

  Again, the push and the pull.

  I watch how everyone listens to Dad. He’s in total control though he’s hardly moving or speaking.

  He knows how to build a bridge. And everyone on the bridge trusts him to tell them what to do and how to do it.

  “I hope I can be like that someday,” I say.

  Benny and Lucy look at me.

  “Like what?” Benny asks.

  “In command, confident. Everyone has complete respect for what he has to say, even in a whisper.”

  “Probably because he’s not a thief,” Lucy says, folding her arms.

  “Lucy, I’m so sorry, I—”

  “He defended you, you know.”

  “Who?”

  “George. My mom was super mad and he totally talked her down, even said it was partly his fault because you’ve been playing pranks on each other.”

  “Say what?”

  “And I’m pretty sure the pranks are one-sided,” she says. “This is after he got sprayed in the face yesterday by the faucet after a piece of duct tape was mysteriously placed there.”

  We can’t help it—Benny and I bust up laughing.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I say, holding up my hands.

  “They got engaged last night.”

  My face falls.

  “It’s good, Golden. I know we called him the Dark Lord at first, but he’s really nice and my mom’s been so lonely for so long. I just want her to be happy.”

  I nod because I want that too. I just want them to be happy here.

  “Dude,” Slick says. “Look at Gag Me. She looks like she’s a thousand years old.”

  “She reminds me of a tree,” Lucy says. “A wise old tree like Grandmother Willow.” She spins with her hands out like she’s feeling all the colors of the wind.

  “Wouldn’t it be bad?” Ziggy says out of nowhere. “If a beam fell down and, like, crushed a little kid?”

  “Be quiet, Ziggy,” we all say at once.

  We watch as the frame goes up. The logs on top get fitted into the sides.

  “Hammer nails,” Dad says.

  Those assigned quickly hammer nails into wood so that it fits into the frame. Ropes come out to pull and secure. More nails and hammering until Dad surveys the work and nods.

  “Okay. Let… go,” Dad says.

  Everyone steps back from the bridge. I hold my breath.

  The supporting beams stay standing.

  Dad rolls across the ramp, stopping underneath the cover.

  He smiles amid the claps and whistles.

  Slick’s dad looks at Jaimes and points. “Up next? Your bedroom.”

  “Cool,” I say, but inside I’m screaming: HALLELUJAH!!!

  “Let’s eat!” Mom says.

  While everyone heads off to the snack table, though, I find Gag Me, who’s standing alone.

  “Mrs. Gagne?” Thankfully I remember to say the right name.

  She turns to face me. We’re the same height. Her face is lined with deep wrinkles. She kind of does look like a wise willow tree.

  “I wanted to say sorry for picking your flowers. I didn’t think anyone would mind.”

  Her eyes narrow as I rush on.

  “They were for…” I lower my voice. “For Lucy.”

  Gag Me says nothing.

  “She liked them a lot,” I say hopefully.

  “Of course she did. Forget-me-nots,” she says curtly, eyeing my arm in a sling. “Heal fast. That game’s a once-in-a-lifetime.”

  “I’ll try!” I call after her. Confirmed—she does have a heart after all.

  A few minutes later she zooms off in her car, passing our soccer game in the driveway. She drives so fast we have to jump out of her way.

  When she rolls down her window while passing, I think that finally, she’s going to say something nice.

  Instead she yells, “Next time I hit ya!” before zooming away.

  Unbelievable.

  I run to get the ball and find myself facing my house and the new covered bridge. I see my whole life from here. My sisters, bikes, teachers, neighbors, soccer balls, teammates, Lucy’s roller skates, so many trees. All the people I’ve grown up with. They’re here for us. Laughing, eating, and pounding nails. They still love Dad even though he can’t play soccer or coach their kids. This day feels special, like a reunion, and that wouldn’t have happened if Dad weren’t sick. It feels weird to actually be thinking of silver linings for a disease I’ve hated with all my guts.

  But today? It just feels exactly like it should.

  Life is so weird.

  Head Up, Wings Out

  Impossible is nothing.

  —LIONEL MESSI

  The day before the big game, Jaimes drives me to the doctor’s office to get my cast cut off.

  It’s a chilly November day, but I shiver with excitement, skipping inside.

  “Hi there,” the receptionist says with a smile. “I’m sorry we didn’t reach you earlier, but Dr. Arun was just called into a surgical case. He can reschedule you for Monday if that’s convenient.”

  I gape at her. Convenient?

  “Uh,” Jaimes says, “we really have to get his cast off. He’s playing in the championship soccer game tomorrow. You may have heard of it? Mudbury against Merrimack?”

  “I’m sorry,” the receptionist says. “But the doctor’s not even here to take a peek. And we’re not here on the weekends.”

  “Can you make an exception?” I ask.

  The receptionist blinks.

  “Is there anyone else here that could do it?” Jaimes asks.

  “Can you do it?” I ask.

  She laughs like I�
�m joking.

  “A nurse?” Jaimes asks.

  “No. The doctor really has to.”

  I feel my face getting really red and really hot.

  “I have to see Dr. Arun today,” I say.

  “I’ll put you on the schedule first thing Monday.”

  “That doesn’t help. Please, you have—”

  Jaimes puts her hand on my arm, steers me through the waiting area and out to the van.

  “Jaimes,” I say. “We can’t just leave—do something! What if you couldn’t play in your championship? You wouldn’t just give up!”

  She opens the door and pushes me inside.

  She says nothing while we drive home.

  She says nothing when she steers me into the house and into our room.

  “Jaimes!” I say. “Find me another doctor.”

  She hands me a pair of scissors.

  “Do it,” she says.

  I stop shouting.

  “What?”

  We stare at each other.

  “Really?”

  “You don’t always get to control your destiny,” she says. “But today you can.”

  And so I do.

  I take the pair of scissors and cut the cast off myself.

  My arm looks smaller, skinnier, and freakishly white.

  Like Dad’s deteriorating muscles.

  “Mom’s going to kill both of us,” Jaimes says. “But not till Monday.”

  She starts juggling the soccer ball to calm herself down.

  I put on a long-sleeve hoodie so no one will notice what I’ve just done with destiny.

  Benny is waiting outside. He’s gotten Lucy out of her roller skates, and they’re passing the ball barefoot. I have to hand it to George and Lucy’s mom. So far, my parents haven’t said a word about the phone theft—and believe me, they would if they knew!

  Dad comes out to watch wearing a coat and hat, wrapped under a blanket, and Mom guides us through some last-minute drills.

  “Let’s get you inside,” Mom says when the temperature drops and the light of the sun is almost gone. “And you three—you need lots of sleep tonight, okay?” I exhale. She still hasn’t even asked about the doctor’s visit.