Maxed Out

by Daphne Greer

  Zippo—not a thing.

  I shut the door and glance up at Mom’s window. The curtains are closed. I start yelling, “Mom! Open up. We’re locked out!” I stare at the curtains, hoping to see her open them. I grab a snowball and toss it near her window. It splats on the side of the house. But it doesn’t do any good—the curtains don’t move.

  “How can she not hear us?” I mutter.

  “She’s not home,” Duncan says.

  “Maybe you’re right. Come on, let’s go over to Mr. Cooper’s.”

  Duncan follows me, complaining how hungry he is. We cut through the rosebushes and ring the back doorbell.

  “We’re locked out,” I announce when Mr. Cooper opens the door.

  “My arm hurts,” Duncan adds.

  “Your arm hurts, and you’re locked out. Not a good combination. Come on in.”

  The warmth from Mr. Cooper’s woodstove makes my face tingle. I take off my mitts.

  “Looks like you two were in a bit of a wrestling match. Your eye looks mighty sore there, Max.”

  “I was fighting,” Duncan says in a deep voice.

  “You were not!” I roll my eyes. “We both fell on the pond.” I don’t want to tell Mr. Cooper what happened. He might tell Mom.

  “Sounds like you ran into a patch of bad luck.” Mr. Cooper rummages around in a kitchen drawer. “Here we go. I knew I had one.” He dangles a spare set of keys.

  “Thanks,” I say. I take them and turn toward the back door.

  “My arm hurts,” Duncan complains.

  “Why don’t I have a look at it?” Mr. Cooper says as he pulls out a chair. “Come have a seat, Duncan, or are you Spider-Man today?”

  “I’m Spider-Man,” he answers quietly.

  Mr. Cooper tries to touch his arm.

  “Oweeee!” Duncan yells.

  “Okay there. Let’s not get our knickers in a knot, Spider-Man.” Mr. Cooper gets up and pulls a first-aid kit out of a cupboard. “I reckon I have a Spider-Man sling for you.”

  “You do?” Duncan’s eyes light up.

  “I sure do.” He unwraps a beige triangle bandage. “I’m going to have to touch your arm, but I promise I’ll be as gentle as possible.”

  Duncan sits still while Mr. Cooper slips the sling on his arm. “I like you,” Duncan whispers.

  “Well, I like you too. That should do the trick until your mom gets home.”

  “I’m hungry,” Duncan says.

  “Well, there’s nothing like telling a feller how it really is.” Mr. Cooper chuckles. “What would you like to eat?”

  “That’s okay, Mr. Cooper. I’ll make him something when we get home. Come on, let’s go, Duncan. Thanks for the key.”

  “No worries, Max. I’m always here.”

  At home, I check my eye out in the bathroom mirror. It’s turning different shades of red and blue.

  My first black eye.

  Chapter Seven

  “I’m hungry,” Duncan says from the kitchen.

  “Just give me a minute,” I holler. When I come back into the kitchen, Duncan rests his head on the table and cradles his arm. I can tell he’s in a lot of pain. I grab a pot and start making macaroni and cheese. “Hopefully Mom will be back any minute so we can get your arm checked out,” I say. Duncan doesn’t answer me.

  The doorbell rings just as Duncan is eating his last bite. Ian stands on the step with his hockey gear.

  “That was quick,” I say. “I thought you were going to stay and play?”

  “Cody slapped every puck we had into the woods. We couldn’t find them. He was being such a jerk no one wanted to stick around. Are you going to let me in or what?”

  “Yeah…yeah, come on in.”

  Ian flings his boots off and leaves them in a heap by the back door. When he sees Duncan, he says, “We sure could have used you at the pond.”

  “I hurt my arm,” Duncan mumbles.

  “Want something to eat, Ian?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’m starving,” says Ian.

  “Sandwich okay?”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  I pull out ingredients from the meat tray and dump them on the counter. Ian grabs the bread, and we make monster-sized layered sandwiches.

  “Hey, look at this.” Ian picks up the cheese-slice package and reads the back. “Kids Help Phone. 1-800 blah blah blah. That’s a weird place to put that.”

  “Let me see.” I grab the package. “You’re right. That is weird.”

  “Yeah,” Ian says with a mouthful. “Can you imagine calling them and saying, I’m having trouble making my cheese sandwich. Can you help me?”

  We laugh so hard that I don’t hear Mom come into the kitchen. Her hair is a mess of tangles, and her makeup is smeared underneath her eyes.

  “Oh no! What happened to Duncan?”

  “I was fighting,” Duncan says in a low voice.

  “You were what?” She then looks at me. “Oh my goodness! What happened to your eye?”

  “He wasn’t fighting,” I snap. “He slipped on the ice! And my eye, well—”

  “Spider-Man was fighting!” Duncan pounds his good fist onto the table. “I got him in my web!”

  “Okay, Duncan, settle down. It sounds like—”

  “My arm hurts!” says Duncan.

  Mom sits down next to him. “Let’s have a look.”

  “Don’t touch it!” Duncan orders. “Only Spider-Man can.”

  “This isn’t the time to fool around, Duncan.”

  “I think it might be sprained,” I say. “Mr. Cooper put the sling on.”

  “Mr. Cooper?”

  “Yeah, we were locked out. I forgot my key.”

  “Oh, Max…Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?”

  “I did! For, like, five minutes!” I say.

  “Oh. I didn’t hear it.” Her face falls.

  “My arm hurts!” Duncan wails.

  “I know, Duncan. So, what happened to your eye, Max?” Mom looks right at me.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I say.

  “We were fighting,” Duncan says.

  “For Pete’s sake. What is going on?” Tears fill her eyes.

  “Nothing, Mom. It’s like I said. We fell on the ice.”

  She looks at the clock. “Oh great— the clinic closes in less than an hour. Look at me! I’m a mess. I can’t see the doctor like this.”

  “You don’t look all that bad, Mrs. O’Neil,” Ian says.

  I cringe. I can’t even look at her. I stare at my feet. I know Ian is trying to help. The old Mom would have smiled at Ian’s attempt to say something nice. Ian forgets we’re dealing with the new Mrs. O’Neil—the one who’s lost her sense of humor and everything else that used to make her fun.

  “Does your mother know you’re here, Ian?” she asks.

  “I, er, no. She thinks I’m on the pond. I came to see how Duncan was.”

  “Perhaps you should go, Ian,” says Mom.

  “But he just got here!” I say.

  “Max. Not today. I’ll be down in five minutes, Duncan.”

  “Your mom is kind of freaked out. Do you think she’s mad at us?” Ian asks at the back door.

  “Wouldn’t be anything new. She’s always mad now, and everything that goes wrong is my fault!”

  Chapter Eight

  Mom sits at the kitchen table and stares me down. “Okay, what happened at the pond? Duncan talked nonstop about it to Dr. Graham. Just tell me straight up. I don’t have the energy for games,” she says.

  I lean against the fridge with my arms folded. I know she’s not going to let up until I give her something. So I tell her what happened—except the part where Cody punched me. I make it sound like Duncan bumped me when he fell. There’s no way I’m telling her how Cody treated Duncan. I’ll never be allowed to go to the pond again if I tell her what really happened.

  “Oh, Max, I shouldn’t have made you take him.” She rests her head in her hands. “I can’t do this anymore,” she whispers. “I just can’
t…”

  I don’t know what to say. Mouse jumps down from the window ledge with a thud and wraps his body in between my legs. I can feel his purring. I bend down to pick him up, but the phone rings, so I leave him on the ground.

  “I don’t want to talk to anyone. Take a message,” she says.

  “Hello? Um…just a sec.” I cover the receiver with my hand and whisper, “It’s Maggie.”

  Mom shakes her head. “Not now.”

  Mom and Maggie have been friends since grade three, but even Maggie can’t help her right now.

  “I can’t keep telling her you’re working! Come on, Mom.”

  She gives me a look that says, Don’t you dare.

  I glare at her as I lie. “She’s still sleeping, Maggie.”

  “Don’t you look at me like that,” she says when I hang up. “You have no idea what I’m going through.” She brushes past me and heads upstairs. “Get some frozen peas on that eye of yours.”

  I slam a cupboard shut and stomp around the kitchen. “I miss him too! Did you ever think about that?” I yell. “Of course not! You’re too busy crying and hiding in your bedroom!”

  I hear Mom’s bedroom door slam. Now I’ve done it. Sighing, I decide to clean up my mess so she won’t have something else to be mad at me for. The last thing I put away is the cheese-slice package. I stare at the ad for the Kids Help Phone. I wonder how many kids see the number and want to call but never do.

  I grab the peas from the freezer and plunk myself down on the sofa.

  I put my feet on the coffee table and rest my head against the back of the sofa. The cold peas feel good on my eye. They numb my thoughts for a few minutes.

  “What you need is a good laugh,” Ian says after school the next day. “Look and learn.”

  He flops down on my bed, tucks his legs into his chest and holds them in place with his arms. His butt sticks up in the air. “Okay, light the match when I tell you, and hold it close to my butt. Just don’t light my jeans on fire.”

  “You’re nuts, you know. Mom will kill me if she finds out.”

  “Okay…here it comes!” Ian yells, ignoring me.

  I frantically light the match and hold it near Ian’s bum. One loud rip-roaring fart thunders out of him.

  Braaaaooooooommmmm.

  A big blue flame shoots out from Ian’s butt with a pfft sound.

  “Wow! Did you see that?” I jump back, laughing my head off.

  “No, but I felt it. You had the match too close.” Ian grins from ear to ear.

  “That was way cool,” I say.

  “You want to try now?” Ian asks.

  “Sure.” I lie on the bed and tuck my knees into my chest just like Ian. “This is too funny.”

  Ian is already positioned, ready to strike the match. I hold my breath and try to squeeze one out.

  “Can’t do anything,” I say. I try again. “Still nothing.”

  “No worries. Thunder Bum to the rescue. Push over.”

  Just as Ian’s about to let another one rip, I glance over at my bedroom door. I’d forgotten to close it.

  “Okay, I’m ready to blow. Light it! Light it!” Ian yells.

  I fumble with the matches. I get one lit just in time.

  Brrrrrroookkaaapppoffft.

  “Whoa! That was the best one yet!” I yell.

  Duncan comes barreling in with his Spider-Man cup full of water. Before I have time to stop him, he throws it on Ian.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” Ian yells.

  “Your bum was on fire,” Duncan says in a low shaky voice.

  “It’s okay, Duncan. Ian’s not hurt. We were just doing blue darts.” I turn my head and plug my nose—to stop myself from laughing.

  But when Duncan says, “You look like you peed your pants,” I lose it.

  “You think it’s funny, do you?” Ian says, standing with his hands on his hips and a wet stain on the crotch of his pants.

  “I like you, Ian,” Duncan says, pointing to him.

  “You have a weird way of showing it,” Ian says, wiping at his pants.

  “Max, Ian’s funny,” Duncan says. Then he leaves my room.

  “Man, he appears out of nowhere, doesn’t he?” Ian says.

  “Yeah, sorry about that.” I open up my drawer. “Here, try these.” I throw him a pair of jeans.

  After Ian changes, he flops down on the bed and picks up a hockey magazine. “Hey, what are you going to do about the game on Friday?”

  “Haven’t a clue—I’m still working on it.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Ian’s bum was on fire,” Duncan announces at supper.

  Oh, great.

  Mom drops her fork and looks back and forth between the two of us.

  “Max, what is Duncan talking about?”

  “It was nothing.” I smirk, remembering how funny it was.

  “I put his bum fire out,” Duncan says, after pushing his plate away.

  “Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

  “It was no big deal, Mom. Ian came over today, and we were fooling around in my room. He was showing me how to do blue darts.”

  “What in heaven’s name are blue darts?”

  “Bums blow out fire,” Duncan says, as he gets up to leave the table.

  I glare at Duncan’s back.

  “Let me get this straight, you were playing with matches?”

  “Sort of, but we were really careful.”

  “Good lord, Max! What has got into you? You could have started a fire. This isn’t like you at all.” Her voice quivers. “It’s Ian—isn’t it? He’s not to be here when I’m not home.”

  “Mom! That’s not fair. I’m not stupid. I wasn’t going to burn down the house by lighting a few dumb farts.”

  I stand up and shove my chair into the table. “This sucks. I’m always looking after Duncan! I never get to play hockey. Ever since Dad died, I have to do everything!”

  There.

  I’d said it.

  My whole body is clenched tight, waiting for her to say something.

  “What do you expect me to do?” she finally says. “Do you think I like leaving you alone all the time with Duncan?” Her voice cracks. She scrunches up the napkins and gathers the rest of the dishes. “I’m still trying to figure things out, Max. We all have to do our bit.”

  “I am doing my bit!”

  She stands at the kitchen sink with her back toward me, bracing her hands on the counter. “Max, please…”

  “No, Mom, I’m not finished. I’m always late for school because of Duncan. I can’t play hockey like I used to, because I have to look after him. He blabs off at the mouth to my friends and Mr. Cooper. He acts so retarded. I hate it.” Just as the words blast out of my mouth, Duncan comes into the kitchen with his hands covering his ears.

  “You’re hurting my ears,” he says.

  “I…”

  “It’s okay, Duncan. He didn’t mean it. Did you, Max?”

  The trouble was, I did mean it.

  I just didn’t mean for Duncan to hear me.

  “Max! Say you’re sorry,” Mom says.

  I look at Duncan. “Sorry,” I mutter.

  I flop down on my bed and dial Ian’s number.

  “Hey, what’s wrong? You sound bummed out,” Ian asks.

  “Mom and I got in a big fight.”

  “Not again—what was it this time?”

  “Take a wild guess,” I say.

  “Not the blue darts?”

  “Yup. Duncan flapped his lips about it at supper.”

  “Oh, man—that’s a bummer. Hey, get it? Bummer?” Ian laughs.

  “Yeah, well, Mom’s so mad at me right now, I don’t think I’m going to be able to skate on Friday.”

  “You have to play,” Ian says.

  I stare at my big toe poking out of a hole in my sock. “Believe me, I want to!”

  Braaap. Ian lets out a big loud burp. “Okay, so we know bringing Duncan to the pond won’t work.”

 
“Duh!” I say as I take off my socks.

  “Couldn’t you just set him up with a long movie? He’d never even know you were gone.”

  I bunch my socks in a ball and pitch them to the other end of the room. “Don’t think I haven’t thought about that. But if anything happened, Mom would lose it.”

  I stand up and look out my window. Snow swirls around outside. Every once in a while it makes a pinging sound on the window.

  “Hey! I’ve got it,” Ian says.

  “What?”

  “Why don’t you ask Lilly? She’s Duncan’s school buddy this month. She’s always telling my mom that she really likes him. I bet if we paid her five bucks, she’d do it. You could put a movie on before you leave. You’d be back before your mom gets home. No one would ever know.”

  “You’re forgetting about Duncan’s big mouth!”

  “What if we get Lilly to come after you get his movie on?”

  “Hmmm. That might work. Will you call her?”

  “Sure.”

  “I better go.” Just as I’m about to hang up, I say, “Hey, Ian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “Forget about it.” He lets out another burp and then hangs up.

  At bedtime I can’t sleep. The day’s events play over and over in my head. I turn my light on and head downstairs for a snack. When I slip past Duncan’s room, I notice the tv is still on. He looks fast asleep. I tiptoe in and turn it off.

  “I’m still watching,” comes a voice from underneath the blankets.

  “Jeez, you scared me!” I whirl around. “Don’t do that to me!” I turn the tv back on and close the door.

  I sit down at the kitchen table with a bowl of cereal. The hum of the fridge and the tick-tock of the kitchen clock keep me company. Everything is fine until I think of Mom and what she was saying earlier. I can’t do this anymore… My stomach tightens, and I’ve lost my appetite. What did she mean by that? And then I remember all the stuff I said to her. I’m just like Duncan—blurting out things I should keep inside.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning I grab the money jar from the cupboard and dump loose change onto the counter. There’s enough for my lunch. Duncan is a different story. The only sandwich he’ll eat is cheese slices with mayonnaise and ketchup. It’s gross when the ketchup drips out the sides, but Duncan loves them. I grab the last two cheese slices, throw the wrappers in the garbage and slap it together.