by Jonah Black
“Yeah, whatever,” he said.
A nurse came in and looked at Thorne and me like we were doing something illegal. “Jonah’s going to need some rest soon,” she told Thorne.
“I’m on my way out, miss,” said Thorne, and then he smiled at her with his big Thorne teeth, and the nurse actually blushed.
Why do women buy his horseshit? Don’t they know how full of it he is? Or maybe they do know, but they think he’s charming anyway.
“Listen, Jonah,” Thorne said, as the nurse headed down the hall. “Remember when I found Sophie O’Brien’s phone number and address for you off the Net? Remember the condition?”
“What condition?” I said.
“You said if I gave it to you, you’d finally tell me what happened with her. Why they threw you out of that fancy prep school and made you come back down here. You said you’d tell me the whole story about the—”
“The situation,” I said. That’s what all my teachers have been calling it.
“Yeah, whatever you want to call it. You said you’d tell me,” Thorne said.
“I remember,” I said.
Thorne scratched his goatee. It still hadn’t grown in all the way.
“So?” he said.
“Okay, okay,” I said impatiently. “I’ll tell you. Maybe not this second, but I’ll tell you.” It kind of annoyed me that he wanted to have this whole big conversation right then while I was lying in the hospital.
“I didn’t mean this second,” Thorne said.
“I promise I will,” I told him, even though I couldn’t really imagine talking about it. I hadn’t told anybody the whole story yet.
“You know I don’t care what happened, right? There’s nothing you could have done that was like, so perverted or demented, or whatever that I wouldn’t forgive you,” Thorne said. It was really big of him.
“Thanks, Thorne,” I said, smiling. “I’ll tell you sometime. I promise.”
“All right,” Thorne said.
He stood up and held the clamshell collar to his neck. “Oh, man. This is excellent. The girls are going to love this.”
“Thorne?” I said. “If you’re going out with Posie now, what do you need the collar for?”
Thorne looked at me for a second; then he threw his head back and laughed.
“Hoo boy,” he said. “You almost had me going there for a second. Man, Jonah. You crack me up!”
He snapped on the collar. “So how do I look?”
I nodded. “Pathetic,” I said.
“Excellent,” Thorne said, looking very pleased with himself.
As he got up to go he said, “Okay, so don’t forget to call that girl up north. That Sophie, okay? You got a date with destiny, Jonah.”
He gave me the thumbs-up sign, and I gave him the thumbs-up sign, too, as he headed out.
But I’m not going to call Sophie. I don’t want to talk to her anymore. The person I want to talk to is Posie. Where is she? How come she hasn’t visited me? I wish she was mine.
(Still Oct. 21, time unknown)
It must be the middle of the night. I have a roommate here in the hospital now, and he snores like a lumber mill. His name is Gary Wilkinson and he just had his appendix out. How they even found his appendix is a mystery to me because this kid, who is probably about sixteen, is the size of a Volkswagen Beetle. I mean, he’s the biggest kid I’ve ever seen. Underneath the blankets his body looks like an iceberg.
The drugs they have me on are really intense, like I can hear things that aren’t even there. I think they’ve upped the dosages or something, because everything is just so jiggy, or something. Anyway, I’m awake now and I don’t even know what time it is because the clock on the wall is broken. For all I know I could’ve been in a coma for twenty years and just woken up. Maybe I’m an old man now, except I just looked at my hand and it doesn’t look wrinkled or anything.
I just had this dream that I was back at Masthead Academy. In the dream it’s the morning before the formal dance and everything is frozen. I walk around the school, and it’s like the whole world has stopped, like a video on Pause. I am the only person moving. I walk over to Sullivan the Giant’s desk and there are the folders he got from his father, full of dirt on every girl in the school. I go outside and there is the flag on the flagpole frozen in the icy wind. I go over to the girls’ dorm and there is Sophie, sitting at her window, like a statue. I call out her name but she doesn’t move. There is a tear halfway down her cheek, just stuck there. I walk over and touch it but it isn’t wet. It’s cold and frozen, too, like an icicle. Her fingernails have dark-purple polish on them.
I go outside thinking, Now’s my chance. I can fix everything before the dance even starts. But I can’t do anything because everything is stuck.
Suddenly Posie is there, wearing a wet suit for surfing, and she’s running across the campus, the only moving thing in this entire frozen universe.
“Posie!” I call out. “Help me!”
But Posie just runs past me like I’m not even there, and she jumps into Thorne’s VW Beetle and the two of them drive off toward Florida together, and I realize that as far as Posie’s concerned, I’m just one more frozen person in this frozen place.
The clock hasn’t even moved. The nurse just came in and put her hand on my forehead and said, “What are you doing awake, Jonah?”
And I said, “Am I awake? I’m sorry.”
She made a tsk sound and then she checked my IV bag and said, “I think I’m going to ask the doctor to increase your painkillers.”
Oct. 22, 7 A.M. (maybe)
Okay, so I realize my last entry made no sense. It looks like they’ve got my painkillers down now; in fact, I’m off the IV bag and I think I can go home today. Last night was pretty intense, though. I had some dreams or hallucinations or whatever that were even weirder than the one I wrote down. I’m not even sure I want to think about them.
When I woke up this morning, there was another rose on my pillow. Cecily LaChoy again?
I’m beginning to think Thorne is right about being pathetic. Girls love it.
Still no visit from Posie, though. I keep wondering where she is. I hope she’s okay. It’s weird not to hear from her. Actually, this is ridiculous. I’m calling her right now.
(Still Oct. 22, a little later)
Okay, so I just got off the phone with Posie. It was great to hear her voice. I could practically smell the ocean in her hair just from being on the phone with her.
“Jonah, is that you? Hold on,” she said kind of groggily. Then she fumbled with the phone. I guess I woke her up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. I should be home later on today,” I said.
“Did the nurses tell you I came by?” Posie asked me.
What?!? I can’t believe those stupid nurses! I can’t believe Posie was here, and they never told me!
“Oh, no, they didn’t tell you, did they?” Posie said. “You must feel totally neglected.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I’ve been kind of out of it anyway.”
“You don’t know how worried I’ve been!” Posie said. “Are you really all right?”
“I’m fine,” I said. Hearing Posie say she was worried about me made me feel one hundred percent better. I think it cured me.
“What time is it?” Posie said, yawning.
“I think it’s almost eight,” I told her, although I really wasn’t sure.
“Wait a second, let me check my—Whoa! It’s six-fifteen!” she said.
“You’re kidding, I’m sorry. I guess I kind of lost track of time in here. You go back to sleep,” I told her.
“Jonah, it totally sucks that you’re in the hospital. And it sucks even more that I haven’t come to see you while you’re awake. I’m going to make it up to you, though. I’m serious. Promise you’re not mad at me?” Posie said.
“I promise,” I said. I’m never mad at Posie for long.
“You could stop by today,” I said. It sound
ed really pathetic, like I was begging her. “If you want to, I mean.”
“Dammit, Jonah, I’d like to, but I’ve got surf practice. With the squad, you know? There’s a big triple-A competition coming up, and I’m supposed to kick all those other girls’ butts.”
“How about afterward? I’ll be home by then. You could come by my house.”
“Well . . .” She sounded embarrassed. “Me and Thorne are grabbing some dinner, I think.”
“Okay, whatever. Tell me about the weekend. You got any wild plans?” I asked her.
“Not really. Me and Thorne are going to go to the mall to check out the surf shop,” she said.
“Right,” I said. All I could think was, I’m never going to see her again. It’s going to be Thorne this and Thorne that until I’m ninety-five years old.
“Are you okay with this?” Posie said. “With me and Thorne, I mean?” She paused. “I mean, the three of us have been best friends since like, the Civil War. I don’t want Thorne and me going out to make you feel all, you know, left out, or anything. . . .”
The nurse came into my room with a tray of pills. She glared at me.
“Uh-oh. I gotta go, Posie,” I said.
“Wait,” Posie said. “You have to tell me if you’re okay with me and Thorne being together.”
I didn’t know what to tell her. It wasn’t okay. My head hurt.
“Don’t worry,” I said.
“Jonah,” said the nurse.
“I gotta go,” I told Posie.
“Okay,” Posie said. “I’m going back to sleep. Just remember though, rock hard, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
“Say it, Jonah,” Posie ordered.
“Rock hard,” I said.
“Right,” Posie said.
“You think you’re gonna come by and visit?” I asked her.
“I don’t know, Jonah. I’ll try. Okay? See ya,” she said.
“See ya.”
I hung up. Rock hard? That’s totally something Thorne would say, not Posie. So is Posie going to start acting like Thorne? He is going to ruin her, I can see it all now. Ouch. Just thinking that makes my heart hurt.
The doctor just came in. “I think I’m going to keep you here one more night,” she said. “You need more rest.”
“Fine,” I said. All of a sudden I don’t care so much about going home.
Oct. 23
I’m home. Honey picked me up in her Jeep and drove me back to the house, and now I’m lying on my bed. Out my sliding glass door I can see Honey sitting on a lounge chair, filling out some college applications and letting her toenails dry. She’s painted them black.
AMERICA ONLINE INSTANT MESSAGE
FROM NORTHGIRL999, 10-23, 5:35 P.M.
NORTHGIRL999: Hello Jonah Black!
JBLACK94710: Aine! How are you? It’s been a while since I heard from you.
NORTHGIRL999: I had midterm exams here at University of Stokholm. How are you?
JBLACK94710: Not so good. I injured myself during a diving meet last week. Hit my head on the board as I came down. I wound up in the hospital.
NORTHGIRL999: Oh poor diving board boy! Are you going to be fine?
JBLACK94710: Yeah. I didn’t bruise my brain. It could have been a lot worse.
NORTHGIRL999: I am so glad you are all right!
JBLACK94710: Well I’m out for the season now. At least for the next couple of months.
NORTHGIRL999: Now you can work on studies. And girls! : )
JBLACK94710: Well, school is pretty easy for me this year. When I left Masthead Academy I got held back a year. So I’m back in 11th grade again. I had all these subjects last year.
NORTHGIRL999: That is so sad for you. But I bet the girls at your school are glad you will be around for another year! : )
JBLACK94710: I don’t know what they think.
NORTHGIRL999: Oh it is not mystery, diving board boy. Girls think about nice boys, about boys who care for them and make them feel nice. Like you make Aine feel!
JBLACK94710: I’m glad you feel that way Aine.
NORTHGIRL999: When I am in chat with you Jonah Black it make happy body all over!
JBLACK94710: Okay. How is your boyfriend?
NORTHGIRL999: Good news. I broke up with boyfriend. He go back to Gladanyask, which is small town near Arctic Circle. He do not like big city Stokholm and big city womans.
JBLACK94710: What’s not to like?
NORTHGIRL999: He do not like womans with big idea like being in charge. He want me to do what he say. Gladanyask pig!
JBLACK94710: BTW, thanks for sending me your photo. You don’t have any of them with your clothes ON, do you?
NORTHGIRL999: Jonah Black not want to see naked Aine?
JBLACK94710: It’s not that it’s just I want to know what you’re really like. It’s hard to get a sense of someone when your only picture of them is nude in some sauna.
NORTHGIRL999: Sauna is good place to see naked!
JBLACK94710: I guess.
NORTHGIRL999: If you come to Norway Jonah Black we make love in sauna.
JBLACK94710: That sounds good.
NORTHGIRL999: Uh-oh. Aine has to go now. I send you kiss * * * *. You are my best American!
JBLACK94710: Bye Aine!
As soon as I finished logging off, Honey came in and stood behind me reading the IM. I could feel her smirking. I hate to admit it, but I’m pretty sure Honey’s been right all along. Northgirl is definitely a fraud.
“So did you figure out who she is yet?” Honey asked me.
“Not yet,” I said.
“She really is shameless. You see there, six lines from the bottom, she says she’s in Norway.” Honey pointed. “She can’t even remember if she’s pretending to come from Norway or Sweden.”
“You think I should just tell her I know she’s a fake?”
“Depends. Maybe you like getting fake messages from fake people.” The way she said this, it didn’t sound mean. She said it like, maybe some people like to live in a fantasy world. It’s your own choice, I guess.
“You have to admit it’s kind of cool,” I said.
“But it would be depressing to find out who she really is. She’s probably some forty-year-old insurance salesman in Kansas,” Honey said.
“I don’t think so. I think she’s some girl I really know who’s just too shy to talk.” I was only just deciding this as I said it. I sounded like a perfectly good theory.
Honey smiled. “Well, whatever sad lie you want to believe, Yak Meat. Come on. It’s time for dinner.”
“You know you don’t have to make me dinner. I can fend for myself while Mom is on her book tour,” I said. “So what did you make me?”
“Your favorite. Chili dogs and potato chips,” she said. Honey uses canned chili, so it’s not as labor intensive as it sounds. It’s basically heat and serve. Actually, that sounds pretty good.
Oct. 24, 8:15 A.M.
I’m sitting in homeroom and I’m the first person here. Even Miss von Esse isn’t here yet, so I’m writing in my journal. The school is unbelievably quiet right now. I mean, it’s so quiet the quiet is almost like a sound you can hear.
I’m here early because I woke up early and I just felt like I had to get up and out in the world. I guess I was antsy after being in the hospital so long.
You’d think I could get a ride to school with Honey in her cool Jeep, but I can’t because Honey is in the “genius” section, so she gets to come in later than the rest of us morons. So this morning I rode my bike, as usual. And since it was so early, I rode all through Pompano before I got here. I still think this is the most amazing place in the world to live. I mean, I don’t know, maybe any place is amazing if you look at it in the early morning with the sun coming up.
I rode through Hillsboro Harbor and then down Federal Highway and cut over to the 14th Street bridge and stopped at the top of it, you know, just looking out over the water on the Intercoastal. There were lots of boats out, fishing boats an
d yachts and little outboards headed out to sea, and they all had flags flapping in the breeze. Then I headed over to Ocean Boulevard and up north past all the hotels. Then I cut over to the ocean and leaned my bike against a lifeguard tower. I climbed up the tower and looked out at the ocean. Out on the water, Posie was surfing.
I couldn’t believe it was her. She looked like this beautiful ocean princess. There aren’t many people in the world who can do anything as well as Posie rides a surfboard. I know I can’t.
And then, just as I was thinking this, Posie wiped out. The front of her board went up and she windmilled her arms around and the next thing you know there’s this huge splash.
I wait for a moment, anticipating the second her head will pop up above the waves and she’ll grab her board and paddle out to catch another wave.
But she doesn’t surface.
I clutch the railing of the lifeguard tower, desperately scanning the beach and the water. Isn’t anybody going to save her?
I’m the only one on the beach. I’m the only one who’s seen what’s happened.
In a flash, I jump off the tower, and run down the beach. I dive beneath the oncoming waves and swim down, deeper and deeper. I don’t see any sign of her. I’m in a strange sort of cavern, and inside it is an old sunken ship. I swim closer and see Posie, lying on the deck with her eyes closed. A fat octopus leg is wound tightly around her neck. I pull out my knife and the octopus and I wrestle furiously. I keep chopping off its tentacles but it won’t die. Posie doesn’t stir.
“Hey, Chipper,” said a voice. It was Pops Berman. Sometimes I think Pops is my personal guardian angel. He climbed up the lifeguard stand and sat down next to me and looked out at the ocean. Posie was back on her surfboard. “How’s your noggin?” Pops asked.
“My noggin?” I said. “It’s all right.”
Pops nodded. He was wearing his red Boston Red Sox hat again, with the big B on it, and a tan windbreaker. He fumbled around in his pockets for a roll of Pep-o-Mint Life Savers and stuck one on his tongue.
