by Naomi Niles
“Dad, this is a terrible idea. What would Margo say?”
“She didn’t have a problem with it. She examined me over breakfast and said I could go out if I wanted to. Having the window open last night got me to thinking. I don’t think it’s good for me to stay pent up in this house all the time. I think I could heal more quickly if I was able to taste the cool air and feel the warm sun on my face.”
“That sounds great, Dad, but you don’t have a doctor’s permission for this. And I don’t like the thought of you wandering around Dallas or wherever by yourself while I’m at work.”
“Don’t you hear what I’m saying?” Dad replied with a hint of frustration. “I wouldn’t be going alone. You and Nic would be there.”
“So you expect us to just take the day off work? And where are you planning on taking us, exactly?”
From the gleam of delight on his face, it was clear he had been waiting for this very question. “To the Blue Hole in Round Rock, of course. To go bungee-jumping!”
“What?!”
Just then, Nic strode into the room wearing her blue work uniform and visor cap. “Is everything alright?” she asked.
“We’re fine,” I said. “Dad just has this ridiculous idea that we ought to take the day off and go bungee-jumping.”
Nic took the suggestion in stride. “Well, I mean, why not? He is our boss, and if he says we can take the day off, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t. Besides, I haven’t gone bungee-jumping since last summer, and I need to get back in the habit.” She did a high-kick for effect.
“And he wants to come with us.”
“Well, if his nurse thinks it’s alright, then we ought to let him. Think about how you’ll feel in two years if, for some reason, you aren’t able to go anywhere with your dad anymore. Don’t you think you’re going to regret going to work when he offered you the day off?”
It was an oddly delicate way to reference the possibility of Dad’s death. “I guess when you put it that way…”
“Anyway,” said Nic, “I don’t care if you go. I’m changing out of these work clothes, and him and I are going.” She was already pulling off her shirt by the time she reached the door. “And we’ll have a nice lunch while we’re out, maybe with some cake for dessert! If you don’t come, you’ll just be sitting there at the counter all by your lonesome!”
“I won’t be alone!” I called after her. “Adam will probably be there annoying me!”
“Suit yourself!” She turned the corner and vanished, leaving me and Dad alone in the room together.
“Well, it looks like you’ve managed to get what you wanted,” I said, though I was never very good at pretending to be mad. Outside, it was an exasperatingly beautiful and sunny day, as if even the weather was conspiring in his plan to get us out of work.
“Why do you like to work so much?” Dad asked with a smile.
I shrugged. “I don’t know; I’m a workaholic. I guess I get it from you.”
“Your mom was the same way. She was just finishing up her Ph.D. when she died. If she had lived, she’d have been a great professor. I was never cut out for being anything more than a high school teacher. I really married up when I married her.”
“If she had lived, maybe I wouldn’t have ended up working part-time at an auto parts store.”
I hadn’t meant it in a mean way, but that was how he took it. Crossing his arms over his chest, Dad said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you the life you could’ve had.”
“It’s okay.” I knelt down beside him and stroked his arm. “I’m just glad to be alive, at all. From what I’ve heard, it was a close call.”
“It was. I thought I had lost both of you. You were in the incubator for five days, and the doctors tried to tell me you weren’t going to make it. But you were a fighter.”
“I must have gotten that from you.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and went on stroking his back. We went on sitting there together quietly for a few minutes until I got up and ushered him out of my room so I could get dressed.
***
We ate brunch at the Old Monk Pub in downtown Dallas. I ordered a monk burger with caramelized onions, bacon, and Welsh rarebit, while Nic got a vegetarian burger made with lentils, leeks, corn, and mushrooms. (Dad ordered the same, though I don’t think he was as excited about it.)
While we were eating, I told them about the book I was currently writing.
“So it’s set in the 1930s, and it’s the story of this guy and girl who meet and fall in love. The guy is a handsome daredevil pilot who’s flown all over the world and becomes famous. And the girl, her name is Maureen, is just this nobody from Brooklyn. But they meet, and the first time they’re together they go out flying. And what he doesn’t know is that she’s actually an ace pilot, and when she ends up having to fly the plane after he has a major panic attack, she’s able to land it perfectly. But the whole premise is that she can’t understand why this internationally famous rock-star pilot is in love with a girl from the sticks.”
“Sort of like a Cinderella story,” said Nic, stealing a fry from my plate. “Amazing.”
“I guess so. I hadn’t really thought of it that way.”
“And are the guy and the girl supposed to represent anyone in particular?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.
“What? No?” I thought I knew what she was getting at, but she couldn’t come out and say it in front of Dad because I hadn’t told him about Darren yet. “It’s about a guy and a girl fighting Hitler.”
“I figured that. But sometimes real life has a way of creeping into our stories even when we don’t notice.”
By now, Dad was staring back and forth at both of us in alarm. “Y’all lost me,” he said, raising his hands in surrender.
I glared discreetly at Nic. “I just think sometimes a guy and a girl can flirt and fall in love and try to kill Hitler without there being any deeper message. It’s just a dumb story is all.”
“Don’t say that about your own book,” said Nic. “Everything you’ve written is quality because you put your whole self into it.”
“Thank you for saying that. I got to a really intense part in the story last night, and I had to quit because I was getting tears all over the keyboard. They don’t pay me enough for this.”
“They don’t pay you at all,” Dad pointed out.
“I know. And they really should.”
By midafternoon, we had reached the Blue Hole in Round Rock. Nestled in the woods, there stood a large clearing with a cliff about fifty feet high rising up over a lake. Although it was spring break, we found the site blessedly empty. A smoldering campfire containing the remains of a chunky stew suggested that the clearing had only recently been vacated.
“Man, being out here almost makes me want to go skinny-dipping again,” said Nic as she stared down into the placid blue waters.
I threw her a reproachful look and motioned at Dad with my eyes. Nic shrugged. “I’m not saying I would actually do it. Maybe I’ll come back sometime when I’m better prepared, but if I do, you’re coming with me!”
“No-o-o-o-o way!” I exclaimed with a shudder. “No way are you getting me in that water naked. The only people who get to see me naked are my stuffed animals.”
“You know that’ll change if you get married someday, right?”
“Yeah, and I’m not going skinny-dipping with him, either.” When Nic rolled her eyes, I added, “You can think I’m a prude if you want, but I did agree to go bungee-jumping with you. A prude would never do that.”
“I think you might be confused as to what the word prude means,” said Nic. “I’ve gone bungee-jumping with Mennonites.”
“Are the two of you going to argue the entire trip?” asked Dad, clutching at his head in despair. “Y’all are giving me a headache.”
Given his precarious condition, this wasn’t the best news. I came over and knelt down beside him. “It might be the weather. Do you feel like you’re about to throw up?”
“I maybe shouldn’t have been in the car for so long. My stomach feels queasy, and the world seems to be spinning. Do y’all feel that?”
“No, the world feels pretty stable,” said Nic. “I think maybe we ought to get you indoors where it’s cool.”
Dad winced, and embarrassment shone on his face. I knew he hated having to be taken care of about as much as he hated ruining our plans, but I cared about his health a lot more than I did about his feelings. “I think maybe it’s too hot for us to be out here right now.” I held up my arms, already sticky with sweat. “We’ve only been out here a few minutes, and I feel like I’m dying. I can only imagine how you must be feeling.”
“Please don’t cancel your plans on account of me.”
“They were your plans, and we’re not canceling them; we’re just postponing until a more opportune time,” said Nic.
She looked to me for support, and I nodded in agreement. “What Nic said. We’ll come back at a more… Coppertone time. Now let’s get you in the van before we all drown in our own sweat.”
Chapter Thirteen
Darren
On Wednesday, I finally got my chance to visit the auto parts store.
On my way to work that morning, I decided to take the car for a test run. I had just woken up from a dream in which I was cruising through the streets of East L.A. in the Mustang. Penny’s dad, for some reason, was in the passenger’s seat. Part of the city had just been destroyed by a nuclear bomb, and now a blanket of radioactive waste lay over it. We were being chased by a couple of two-headed guys driving a red Corvette. One of them was carrying a Super Soaker that sprayed toxic goo. He was leaning out the side of the car, fangs bared, with his gun pointed at us. I pressed down on the accelerator and left him in a cloud of exhaust.
It was a bit of a shock to wake up and discover that the Swedes hadn’t nuked us and that L.A. didn’t lie in ruins. I lay there in bed for a few minutes remembering the feel of the clutch in my hand. I hadn’t taken the car out for several days, not since Penny and I had narrowly eluded the police. It was time.
I ran by the store to pick up a box of croissants and then headed to work. No sooner had I entered the garage, though, than Dickie said the last words I had wanted to hear.
“There’s something wrong with the car,” he said.
I stared at him warily with a sinking feeling. “How wrong, exactly?”
“Nothing major, nothing that we can’t fix. But I took it out for a run this morning before dawn, out on that lonely stretch of highway just south of the manufacturing plants. The exhaust is leaking, and it’s causing the muffler to rattle.”
“How bad is it?”
Darren tossed his head back and frowned thoughtfully. “It’s not like the car is ruined, but I think you might want to replace the exhaust sooner rather than later. It’s a pretty common problem with race cars, and with cars that have been repurposed into race cars especially, the parts degrade faster than your average car because of the strain that they’re under.”
“Well, that’s the risk I took when we fixed it up. The one good thing about it is that with the money I won last weekend, the car basically paid for itself.”
“Yeah, and I don’t think the repairs will be massively expensive. If you want to just go ahead and replace the whole exhaust system, which is what I would recommend, a new muffler shouldn’t cost more’n four or five hundred dollars. And that’s on the high end.”
“Oh hell, that ain’t nothing. I could run down and get the new muffler this morning and have it fixed up by the time we close. That’s assuming they even have the parts.”
Dickie grabbed a croissant out of the box and bit the end absently. “I’ll mind the store. Just be back before noon.”
I turned and strode back through the parking lot, my limbs feeling strangely light. It was one of those perfect spring mornings where the air is still slightly chilly and the fields are shrouded in a slight mist. When I reached the store, I found Penny standing in the parking lot taking pictures of the sky with her phone.
“This is a really special morning for me,” she said by way of greeting, “because it’s the anniversary of the day I went camping by myself for the first time out in Piney Woods. I had completely forgotten it was Piney Woods Day until I got up this morning and checked my phone. I’d have taken the day off, but I already took yesterday off.”
“What did you do yesterday?” I asked.
“I went bungee-jumping with Nic and my dad down at the Blue Hole. Except we didn’t actually get to go bungee-jumping because Dad got sick, but it was nice just to drive around for a few hours and not have to deal with sweaty boys wanting me to order parts. Nic put on a Twenty One Pilots playlist, and we had a car singalong at full volume. A couple guys honked and made faces at us. I think they were trying to ask us out. Anyway.” She turned and smiled at me. “Happy Piney Woods Day! Did you need anything or did you just drive over here to chat?”
She turned and began walking through the parking lot in the direction of the store, and I followed her. “I actually need to look into getting a new exhaust system because the old one on my race car is busted.”
Penny grimaced as she pulled open the front door. “Sorry! I hope I didn’t ruin it when we were running from the law.”
“Heck, I probably ruined it trying to win that forty thousand dollars from Adam.”
“Well, at least the car paid for itself. Hey, would you mind taking a selfie with me to commemorate Piney Woods Day?”
“Wouldn’t mind at all.” We paused by the door with our backs to the sun-streaked glass. She pulled me close to me and snapped a couple pictures, then broke away so she could post them on Instagram.
“Do you have special holidays for every day of the year?” I asked as I followed her to the counter.
“Not every day. There are only two or three holidays or anniversaries a week. Nic and I have our friendaversary coming up in August because that was the day she came into the store to apply for a job and didn’t know there was a large nacho cheese stain down the front of her shirt. She’s very lucky that I was the one doing the interview. We spent most of it laughing, and she got the job and a friend.”
“You must have an excellent memory.”
“I do,” she said, not in a proud way but as a matter of fact. “I mean, I have a good memory for the things that I care about. I was never very good with dates or things I was supposed to know for school, but if you say something nice to me, I will remember and treasure it forever. And if you say something mean to me I will cry into my pillow night after night until we’re both dead.”
“Wow. Remind me never to say something mean to you.”
“Hopefully I won’t have to remind you. One time in middle school I overheard a girl say my nose was too tiny, and I’ve been self-conscious about my nose ever since. I do have a very small nose—it’s about the size of a button—but I can’t help it. I couldn’t make it longer unless I told a lie, and I’m not very good at lying.”
One of the great things about Penny was that I never had to say much; I could just wander into the store and listen while she rambled about whatever was on her mind. Today, she was being even more talkative than usual because I hadn’t spoken more than a few words since I pulled into the parking lot.
By this point, I had almost forgotten about my ostensible purpose in coming. “How are you the most fascinating person?” I wondered aloud.
Penny beamed benevolently from behind the counter. “That’s very kind of you to say. I think sometimes Nic hides in the back because she thinks I’m insufferable, so I just talk to the plants and lizards. They never make fun of me, although they probably would if they could speak.”
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Going skydiving,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. I searched her face to see if she was joking, but her expression remained stoic and smirking.
“Do you go skydiving often?”
“Just when I’m i
n the mood. If I don’t feel like sitting in my room crying over fictional characters and drinking tea with my stuffed animals, risking death in a rickety airplane is always a second option. I never got the chance to bungee-jump yesterday, so this weekend I’ll have to get all my wiggles out.”
Listening to her talk, I had the growing suspicion that she was making up the whole story about going skydiving to scare me away. But there was only one way to know for sure. “Well, shoot, I’m down for it if you are. You wanna meet in front of the store on Saturday?”
If Penny was surprised or perturbed, it didn’t show on her face. “Yeah, sounds great. We’ll be leaving from here around noon. Have you ever been skydiving before?”
“No, but I’m willing to learn. It can’t be any more dangerous than racing down the strip. Speaking of which, I’d better find this muffler before my boss starts texting me wanting to know where I’m at.”
“K. See you Saturday,” said Penny, and she went back to her typing.
Chapter Fourteen
Penny
After Darren left, I had a minor panic attack. I had no intention of actually going skydiving on Saturday, but he had backed me into a corner. Now I had to go.
“What was all that about me hiding in the back room?” asked Nic, coming out of the back room. “And why are you hyperventilating?” I was standing at the counter breathing deep into a white paper bag.
“I told DARREN that I was going skydiving,” I said slowly. “And NOW he wants to go with me.”
“Penny, when have you ever been skydiving?”
“Never! It was a joke, and it went too far, and now, I’m going skydiving. Do I look like the sort of girl who has ever been skydiving? The closest I’ve ever come to being in an airplane was when we went to Florida, and an airplane flew over our house.”
“Wow, calm down.” Grabbing me by the wrists, she lowered me into the swivel chair. “You can always text Darren and tell him you’ve changed your mind and decided not to go.”
