by Tim Green
He decided to tell her about his mom, how he wanted to find her, and how the money could help.
“Wow,” she said.
Another car zipped past and Jalen continued his trek toward town. He could see the lights now flickering below him through the trees. “I guess that’s over now.”
“But I don’t think it is over.” Cat was pleading with him. “One good night is not going to fix things for JY, not with Jeffrey Foxx it’s not.”
“See? Now we’re on that guy’s side?” Jalen said. “No thanks, Cat. That’s not even like you.”
“We’re on our own side, Jalen. You’ve got a gift. You should use it. You should get paid for it. People should know about it . . . . Your mother should know.”
Jalen trudged around a bend without speaking.
“Jalen? You there?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “My life is a mess, Cat, but at least my dad’s happy.”
“You’re going to be happy too, Jalen. I know it.”
“Just like you knew JY would blow it tonight against Cleveland?”
It was Cat’s turn to be quiet. Jalen began to pass some houses, and he stepped onto the sidewalk.
“I could have worked for five hundred dollars a game,” Jalen finally said. “But now I don’t think even that’s on the table.”
“You’re worth twenty times that.” Cat’s voice was flat and without apology. “If you want to make it big, you gotta think big, Jalen. That much I do know.”
Jalen hit the center of town. He crossed the street and rounded the corner at the train station. “Well, I’m back at the Silver Liner. I’m gonna go in and talk to my dad. Thanks again for the pizza.”
“Anytime. See you tomorrow, Jalen.”
“See you.”
He crossed the parking lot and paused to hold the door for two couples coming out. They wore smiles and chatted about how good their meal had been. Inside, the restaurant was bustling. Greta had on the same dress she’d worn the night before. Her hair was frazzled, but she smiled at Jalen as she led two customers toward a table in the back.
He found his father in the kitchen amid the clatter of plates and the clash of pans. Food sizzled on the stove, and the rich smells of red sauce, onions, fish, and sausages filled the air. The kitchen was busy with assistants dressed in aprons, hairnets, and paper hats.
“Jalen!” His father slipped a golden fish filet out of a crackling pan and onto a plate before setting it down and hugging his son. “What a night! How was you practice? Did the Yankees win?”
“Okay, yeah, they won.”
“Jalen, what happen to your face?” His father scowled as he placed two fingers on Jalen’s chin, turning his face toward the light.
“Nothing, Dad.” Jalen shrugged free. “Just a wild pitch. It happens. I’m fine.”
“I thought baseball, she’s safe.” Jalen’s dad clucked his tongue, still troubled.
Jalen talked his father out of his worry. He was relieved when his dad brightened, wagged his head toward the office, and said, “Come here. I gotta tell you something in private.”
“Private?”
“Yeah. It’s a good thing.” His father led him into the tiny office and closed the door on his noisy kitchen.
“A good thing?” Jalen sat down in the rickety chair beside his father’s desk.
His father sat down too. He massaged his bald head before placing his elbows on his knees and leaning toward Jalen. “No, actually, is a great thing.”
29
JALEN’S DAD POINTED IN THE direction of the dining room. “You see two men wearing the suits at table seven when you come in?”
“There were a lot of people.”
“Don’t worry. Maybe they gone now, but they are from Goldman Sachs, and they say to me, they say, ‘Fabio, the Silver Liner, she’s a brilliant idea and everybody is talking about her.’ They say I should franchise.”
“Franchise?” Jalen remembered Cat talking about a franchise.
“You know, restaurants everywhere, like Burger King, like Applebee’s, only nice like the Capital Grille.” His father’s blue eyes sparkled with delight. “They said they got people who do this all the time, and they got the money. Jalen, we gonna be so rich, maybe famous, too. Like Wolfgang Puck.”
Jalen now felt like a yo-yo, up and down, up and down.
“Jalen, you look tired.” His father patted his hand. “You go home and get to sleep. I’m gonna be late again tonight. Let me get you some ice.”
“You sure you don’t need me to help?” Jalen followed his dad out into the kitchen.
“No, I got plenty of people.” His father dumped a scoopful of ice from the cooler into a plastic bag, tied it, and handed it to his son.
Then Greta burst through the swinging door and threw her hands into the air. “They just keep coming.”
Jalen’s dad only laughed and yanked the next order off its clip before turning toward his stoves.
Jalen let himself out the back and went straight home. He got ready for bed and hopped in without bothering to even look at his mother’s picture. He had enough discomfort with the swelling on his jaw. He didn’t need a heartache on top of it all.
In the morning his father’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, but he wore a smile that brightened even Jalen’s day. His dad made them breakfast, then headed off to the market. Daniel was waiting for Jalen in the back of the bus.
“How was the restaurant last night?” Daniel asked.
“Great.” Jalen bumped fists with his friend and sat down beside him. “I guess some Goldman guys want to turn it into a franchise, like McDonald’s, only nicer.”
“Sweet,” Daniel said. “How’s the face? It looks a little swollen.”
“It’s fine.”
“So, I got something I want to show you.” Daniel held up a finger, then dug into his backpack. He came up with a Ziploc bag that contained what looked like about a dozen Cocoa Puffs cereal balls.
“Cereal?” Jalen said.
Daniel studied the contents of the Ziploc. “Kinda looks like that, doesn’t it? I’ll save that for another day, but for today I thought I’d sprinkle these bad boys inside Chris’s backpack. See, they’re not cereal. They’re rabbit turds.”
“Whaaat?”
Daniel chuckled. “Yeah, they look kind of harmless, but man do they stink when you flatten them. So, when his books shift around a bit, squish, squish, bang. El stinko. Then he fishes around in there and there’s rabbit poop all over his fingers. He might even puke.”
“What brought this on?”
“You serious?” Daniel scrunched up his face. “No way are we letting him get away with those beanballs yesterday.”
“He didn’t throw them,” Jalen said.
“No, he only got Caleb to do it. That’s just as bad, maybe worse.” Daniel tucked the Ziploc carefully back inside his own backpack. “It stinks is all I know, so I got some stink for him to enjoy.”
“I don’t know,” Jalen said.
“You don’t have to know. You just have to be the lookout for me.”
“Now I’m a part of it?” Jalen asked.
“That’s what makes it a valid payback.” Daniel gave him a short nod.
“He’ll know.”
“He’ll suspect, but he won’t know.” Daniel frowned. “Look, I’m doing it with or without you. I can’t look at your face and just sit on my hands.”
Jalen stayed quiet for the rest of the ride.
As they left the bus, he asked, “How are you gonna do it?”
“That’s my boy. I knew you weren’t gonna let your BFF go it alone.” The two of them fell into the crowd, kids swarming up the steps and into the school like salmon swimming up a river.
“I didn’t say . . .” Just then Jalen saw Chris up ahead of them, shoving a scrawny kid who played clarinet in the school band face-first into the brick wall outside the entra
nce.
“Okay,” Jalen said, “tell me what I have to do.”
30
THE PLAN WAS FOR EACH of them to get a bathroom pass at nine thirty, right in the middle of second period. They weren’t in the same class, so it wouldn’t be obvious. When the clock’s big hand hit the six, Jalen asked for the bathroom pass. His history teacher, Mr. Ingles, gave him a sour look, but nodded toward the wooden pass hanging from a key chain on a hook just inside the door.
Jalen took it and hurried through the empty hallways to the bathroom closest to Chris’s locker. Daniel was already there.
“Where you been?” Daniel asked in an intense whisper.
“It’s nine thirty.”
“It was nine thirty three minutes ago.” Daniel marched past Jalen. He poked his head out into the hall and looked both ways. “Okay. Come on, let’s go.”
Jalen followed.
“You stay here and watch both ways.” Daniel pointed to a spot where one hallway T-boned another.
“What should I do?” Jalen said. “I can’t just stand here.”
“Pretend you’re tying your shoe. Bang a locker if you see someone.”
Jalen bent down and untied his shoe, thinking of an excuse for being someplace that was clearly not on the path from his class to the bathroom.
Daniel got to Chris’s locker and looked back. Jalen gave him a thumbs-up, then watched as Daniel slipped a small screwdriver from his pocket and jammed it into the edge of the locker. Daniel had discovered the way to open the lockers early in the year, when his own locker had given him trouble with the combination. Daniel fussed with the screwdriver for a few seconds, then looked up again, making an okay sign. Jalen looked around again and signaled okay.
Daniel popped the locker with his elbow and the door crashed open.
Jalen’s heart thumped against his ribs as Daniel fumbled with Chris’s backpack. He yanked it out of the locker, zipped it open, fiddled with something inside that Jalen couldn’t see, then removed the Ziploc of rabbit turds from his front pants pocket and dumped the contents into the backpack. A cackle of laughter escaped Daniel as he jiggled the backpack to settle the turds into its depths. Jalen felt giddy, and he giggled to himself until he looked down the hallway he was supposed to be watching and saw Dr. Menkin, the principal, marching toward him with a disapproving scowl.
Jalen panicked and banged his fist against a locker several times.
Daniel turned with a look of disbelief—as if he expected Jalen was trying to scare him as a joke—that quickly turned to horror when he realized that Jalen’s warning was for real. Daniel began stuffing the backpack into the locker.
Jalen looked back at Dr. Menkin, who was now approaching on a double-time march.
Unless Jalen outright tackled the principal, Daniel would never make it.
31
JALEN THREW HIS SHOULDERS BACK and headed for the principal.
Dr. Menkin was looking beyond Jalen, sensing the situation with the intuition of a twenty-year educator with a PhD. Jalen stepped right, then left, directly in the principal’s path. Dr. Menkin bounced off Jalen but kept his feet, slipped past, and stood staring down the hallway Jalen had been guarding.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on here, Mr. DeLuca?” Dr. Menkin gave Jalen an angry look.
The principal caught Jalen by the arm and marched him around the corner. Daniel was nowhere to be seen. “Someone has been stealing money from the lockers all year. Never in my life did I think it was you.”
“I didn’t take anything, Dr. Menkin,” Jalen pleaded.
“Why were you blocking me?”
“I—I tried to get out of the way,” Jalen said. “I got nervous because I was supposed to be using the bathroom, but I stepped outside for some air and I was on my way back to class.”
Jalen still held the wooden bathroom pass in one hand, but he turned his pockets inside out, producing nothing except a worn-down pencil. “I didn’t take anything. See?”
The principal studied his empty pockets, and his expression seemed to soften. “I saw all that stuff about you and James Yager over the weekend.”
“Yeah,” Jalen said, “it’s been great for my dad’s business.”
“Well, you’re lucky I’m a big Yankees fan.” The principal tilted his head. “Lucky calamari, huh?”
“Kind of.” Jalen didn’t know what else to say.
“Okay, I’ll have to get some.” The principal motioned with his head. “Get back to class.”
Jalen practically skipped down the hallways, he was so giddy over having escaped a close call. Daniel was giddy too when they met in science class the very next period.
“Good job, amigo!” Daniel slapped him a high five.
“What are you two up to?” asked Cat, setting her books down on the lab table in front of them.
“Just delivering presents from the Easter bunny,” said Daniel.
“Easter bunny? What, like chocolate eggs?” asked Cat.
“Something like that.” Daniel began to giggle. “Anyway, I don’t want to tell you too much because I don’t want to ruin the surprise you’re going to get at lunch.”
Cat looked at Jalen. “What’s wrong with him?”
“A lot,” Jalen said.
Science class was a yawn because they spent most of it helping their teacher catalog his equipment for next year’s sixth-grade class. But lunch came after that, and Jalen had to admit he was excited to see the result of Daniel’s devious deed.
32
CHRIS HAD HIS ARM IN a sling.
Jalen wondered how necessary it was, or, as Daniel insisted was the case, if he was simply continuing to support his excuse for flopping in the championship game against Bronxville. Jalen, Cat, and Daniel all sat down on the end of a table just across the main aisle from Chris and his bunch.
“Watch this,” Daniel said, angling his head toward Chris.
Chris used his left hand to open his lunch bag and dig down into it for a sandwich. He stopped talking and his face got a funny look. When he pulled his hand out of the bag several little brown rabbit turds popped out and rolled across the table. Several others were smeared onto his fingers in a brown and putrid yellow mess.
Chris’s face went from confusion to horror. Instinctively, he sniffed his soiled hand. With a bark, he exploded up out of his seat. His chair screeched across the floor, but before he could take a step, he gagged and vomited on the lunch table. The wet slick spatter flowed like a tide, spilling from the table’s edge in brown sheets to the floor.
Everyone within thirty feet issued a collective groan. “Ewww!”
Daniel craned his neck and casually observed, “Looks like he had bacon for breakfast.”
Dirk, who’d been sprayed by the blast, staggered to his feet, slipped in the puke puddle, went down like a dynamited building, and was barely able to get to his knees before a gusher of barf spewed from his own mouth. Another universal groan filled the air, this time punctuated with little horrified yelps from various girls who weren’t used to such spectacles.
There was some nervous laughter, but most kids reacted with a mixture of horror and disgust. Daniel bit back a grin and trembled with the effort it took not to burst into celebration. He snickered to himself and looked down. “Oh, that’s too much. That’s just too perfect.”
Jalen wiped the smile off his own face several times and disguised his glee with several fake coughs. Cat wore a look of genuine sympathy, but that was just Cat. Even though she knew Chris was a big jerk, she’d still feel bad about him being sick and embarrassed.
“You did that?” she said in a hushed voice, leaning toward Daniel across the table.
“We did that.” Daniel gave Jalen a satisfied look. “You know those bunnies you see all over the lawns in Mount Tipton? Well, their poop has to go somewhere.”
“You dumped them in his lunch bag. Wow,” said Jalen, impressed.
A custodian showed up with a mop and a bucket and began to clean up the m
ess as Dirk and Chris stumbled off toward the bathroom. The sharp smell of disinfectant cleaner cut into the sour scent of vomit.
“That’s really disgusting,” Cat said.
“So is that.” Daniel pointed to Jalen’s swollen jaw.
Cat frowned and looked at Jalen. “True.”
“I look that bad?” Jalen’s heart sank.
“No.” Cat giggled. “That they did it is disgusting. It’d be hard for you to look bad, Jalen.”
“Aw, man.” Daniel paused as he removed a sandwich from his own lunch bag. “Who needs rabbit poop? ‘Oh, Jalen, you’re so cute.’ You’re making me barf.”
“I didn’t say ‘cute.’ ” Cat turned to Jalen.
Jalen felt his face heat up, and he changed the subject, even though he was delighted by Cat’s attention. “So, we gonna watch the game together again tonight?”
“You guys are welcome,” Cat said, taking out a small tub of yogurt and digging in. “I’ll have my mom order some more pizza, and we can celebrate.”
“Celebrate?” Jalen asked.
Cat’s eyes were aglow. “Tonight it’s going to happen. I was checking out Kluber’s stats at breakfast this morning. I’m telling you, JY is going to be texting me before he leaves the locker room tonight. He’s gonna be begging to get you back.”
33
JALEN HELPED HIS DAD AFTER school.
There were a lot of new faces at the Silver Liner, and the ones who’d been around carried themselves more upright and their faces seemed to glow with pride. The Silver Liner had gone from a dumpy diner-restaurant struggling for survival to a superstar restaurant with talk of its special stuffed calamari on everyone’s lips because it was a big part of a sports miracle. Jalen wondered how people would react if they thought the miracle was fading.
As he shelled shrimp, folded napkins, and set out knives and forks on the tables, Jalen checked his phone from time to time, following the tweets about JY’s performance the night before. People were definitely talking about the Silver Liner, urging JY to get back there ASAP and to consider taking some stuffed calamari on the road next time. Jalen smiled to himself, knowing that the real secret would be for JY to take him on the road.
