by Matt Fazio
“No!” Mr. Daley shouted. “Don’t lie to me again. You understand?”
He opened the front door and pointed for Drew to get in the house. Drew nodded his head quickly and kept it down as he walked inside.
“Do you have any idea how worried I was? I called Mrs. Anscombe at four o’clock to see if you all wanted to come have dinner here, and you know what she said?” He paused, but Drew knew he didn’t need to answer. “You went to the field without her. So that’s lie number one.”
There was an angry quaver in his voice that Drew had never heard before.
“She said she’d call Zobby and call me right back. So she calls back and says Zobby’s phone went straight to voicemail. So I start to walk out the door to go down to the field myself, and do you know what I saw? I saw your mitt right next to the door. Now, it wasn’t all that strange that you said you were playing baseball in this weather, because I know you’ll play baseball any chance you get, but there’s no way you would’ve gone to play without your mitt. Even if you forgot it, you would’ve come back for it!”
Drew remained silent with his head down as his father continued.
“So that’s lie number two. Then,” the volume of his voice continued to rise as he spoke, “I had to call your mother, and I’ll tell you what, she is not happy. Look at me, Andrew! I’m not happy with you either. You get that?”
Drew looked up. His father’s face was red and his hands were shaking.
“You lied to me at least twice today. Now you’re gonna tell me the truth.”
Drew broke down. The stress of the day finally got to him, and he began to cry. He buried his face in the pillow on the couch as his father waited. After a few moments, he lifted his head. The look on Mr. Daley’s face alone could have extracted every last drop of truth from his son. Drew took a deep breath, wiped his tears, and began. He told his father about everything: The GPS; Zobby and Caleb’s altercation; the treasure chest; the firework fiasco; Huddy and the older kids; Caleb placing the blame on Zobby; Huddy breaking Zobby’s phone; Caleb leaving; and barely escaping the woods before darkness fell. By the time Drew neared the end of his story, the words were dripping out on their own. When he finally finished, he felt exhausted but better.
Mr. Daley had stood and listened to the whole story, not interrupting Drew once. When he finally opened his mouth to speak again, Drew assumed he would continue yelling at him. Instead, he asked a question: “You said Tommy’s phone died and Zobby lost her battery, right? So how did you find your way home?”
“Well,” said Drew, “on the way there everyone else was looking down at the phones. But I thought some of the trees looked cool, so I was looking at them. And I remembered how you’re always saying the sun sets in the west and rises in the east. And when we started the sun was hitting this side of my face,” he said, pointing to his right, “so when we were trying to get home, I knew the sun would be on the opposite side. So I figured out what general direction to go. Then it wasn’t so bad. I ended up just looking for all the things I saw on the way there, like these big rocks, a pile of leaves, and a broken tree.”
Mr. Daley’s expression finally eased. He sat down and embraced Drew with both arms.
“You have to understand that you can’t lie to me, all right? Your mom and I were scared today,” he said, all while still holding his son. He finally broke their embrace but still clutched Drew’s shoulders tightly and stared into his eyes. “Look at me. I hated today. You hear me?”
Drew nodded and, looking up at his father, he realized something for the first time. His beard, which Drew had always seen simply as reddish-brown, was actually speckled with gray hairs.
“This was one of the worst days I’ve had as a parent,” Mr. Daley continued. “You lied right to my face. We had no idea where you were. You could’ve been hurt – or worse – and we wouldn’t have known where you were. But I know you’re a good kid. And I’m sorry I lost it on you, but I was mad. Hang on a second …”
Mr. Daley went upstairs. A minute later he returned hiding something behind his back.
“You need to call your mom and get chewed out again. And, you know what, you’ve earned it. But, first, I have something for you. You know my father’s father, your great grandfather, was in the Navy. Well, his whole adult life he wore this watch.” He held out his right hand and revealed the watch to Drew. The face of the watch was round and silver. Inside, there were three hands: one for the hour, one for the minute, and one for the second. The forest-green straps on each side were made of a strong fabric, tightly bound and durable.
“He gave it to my dad, my dad gave it to me, and now I’m giving it to you. There’s a compass built into it, see. My grandpa always used to say, ‘No matter where you are, always know how to find your way home.’ For him, that was coming home from the war. Maybe for you it was just getting home from the woods. But remember, you always have to find your way back home, okay?”
“Wow, this is awesome. Thanks, Dad!”
Drew tried to study every detail of his new present. The weight of the watch across his left wrist was heavy, but he knew he’d get used to it. As the father and son sat together for a peaceful moment, the only sound Drew heard was the faint ticking of the watch.
“You’re welcome. Now, listen, I’m glad you made your way back home today, and I’m glad you’re okay. I’m proud of you for figuring it out without the GPS. And I respect that you finally told me the truth. But, listen, you cannot lie to me like that. And not to your mom either. Did you see what happened once you lied the first time? You had to pile more lies on top of it. Even Zobby was lying to me. That’s the thing about lying – it’s a slippery slope. When you lie once, you end up having to lie again. Then things get out of control. It’s like in baseball when one kid throws the ball when he shouldn’t. Next thing you know, everyone’s whippin’ the ball all over the place, and you’ve lost control of the game. You get me?”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m really sorry, Dad.”
“I know, bud. Now go get cleaned up. I’ll make you something to eat while you call your mom.”
Drew went to his room and took off his dirty clothes. Before calling his mother, he decided to cross Mike Hudock off his list. When he pulled his wallet from his pant pocket, a piece of paper fell to the floor, the same as when it had fallen out of the comic book earlier in the day. He picked it up, unfolded it, and studied the motorcycle-riding skeleton. Feeling bad that he had accidentally stolen someone’s picture, he checked to see if there was a name on it somewhere. If there was, maybe he could return it to the person. He searched the picture for a few seconds and saw that there was indeed a signature in the bottom right corner. He hadn’t noticed it in The Shack. At first it was hard to make out. But he examined it closer, and it became clear exactly what the name was. The person who painted the picture was Mike Hudock.
All Over the Place
Drew had suffered through three weeks of captivity. No video games. No TV. No hanging out with friends. No Melia’s Thursdays. No staying up past 9:00, not even on weekends. Just three weeks of boredom and frustration. Three long weeks without any progress in his search for the Mystery Artist. Not that he was sure he still wanted to find the Mystery Artist, now that Mike “Huddy” Hudock, the meanest kid Drew knew, had emerged as the most likely candidate.
Three weeks to sit around and think about how he was so close to crossing Huddy off his list. Not only was Huddy still on his list, but he was also a good artist, which made it that much more likely he was the artist Drew was searching for. And, if he was, what would be the point of continuing the search? It would only be a letdown if Huddy really was the Mystery Artist. Besides, Drew could never ask him about it. Huddy had warned Drew, Zobby, and Tommy that if he ever saw them again, they’d be sorry. The only positive thing for Drew to dwell on during the three weeks he was grounded was that he could count the dragging minutes on the watch his dad gave him.
He stared longingly out the circular window of his ba
sement door. It was a few days after Christmas and his first chance to hang out with Jeff and Tommy. A thick blanket of snow had dropped down the night before, as if the sky had decided to give him a present on his first day of freedom with his friends. Drew had a simple wish regarding the weather: If there isn’t enough snow for sled riding, it should be warm enough for baseball; but when it isn’t warm enough for baseball, there should be enough snow for sled riding.
Tommy sat on the old leather recliner, Jeff on the floor. Both were staring into the TV screen, their mouths slightly ajar and their thumbs tapping away on controllers. Drew had been trying to break them from their trances for the last half hour.
“Guys, please, let’s do something else. Let’s go sled riding.”
“But this game is sick,” said Tommy. “It’s definitely my favorite Christmas present I got this year.”
“Yeah, it got at least four stars in every review,” Jeff added.
“That’s great, but I’ve been stuck in my house forever.”
The boys finally put down their controllers.
“I only got grounded for a week,” said Tommy. “How come you got grounded for so long?”
Drew shrugged. “My parents grounded me ‘til Christmas. They were really mad.”
“Yeah,” said Tommy. “My parents were real mad at first, ‘specially my dad. But my brother stood up for me. He was like, ‘Relax, Dad, he’s just a kid, he didn’t realize what he was doing.’”
“Jason stood up for you?” said Drew. “I thought he was a jerk.”
“He is. Maybe he just wants to make sure my parents take it easy on him the next time he messes up. I dunno, sometimes he’s okay, ya know?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” said Jeff.
As Tommy and Jeff talked, Drew wondered about Jason. He was one of the names on his list – one of the names he had hidden from his friends. Drew hadn’t given much of a chance to Jason being the artist. He had always imagined Jason as the type of kid who was spitting spitballs or flicking the ears of the kid in front of him during class, not drawing pictures.
“Drew?”
“Huh?”
“You wanna go sled riding, right?” Jeff asked.
“Yeah, we can go to school and sled ride down the hill into the parking lot. It’s perfect for sled riding. You still have those sleds, right?”
“Yeah, they’re in my garage. So I guess we can do that,” said Jeff, looking to Tommy for confirmation.
“All right,” said Tommy, “but we should have a snowball fight, too.”
“Sure, fine,” said Drew.
“Maybe we should find someone else to come with us,” said Jeff. “If we have a snowball fight, it’ll be better if we have even teams, right?”
“Good point,” said Tommy. “I can text Caleb. He got a sick phone for Christmas.”
“No way!” Drew snapped.
“Why not?”
“You know why,” said Drew. “I’ll call Zobby. She’ll wanna play.”
“Ugh, come on, man,” said Tommy.
“What?”
“I don’t wanna hang out with Zobby. If you don’t wanna hang out with Caleb, I don’t gotta hang out with Zobby. She’s your friend, not mine.”
“Well …”
“Besides,” Tommy continued, “Caleb will be on our baseball team again, so you gotta get along with him.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Caleb thinks he’s so good at baseball, but he’s not.”
“He’s pretty good,” said Tommy. “He hit two homers last year.”
“And struck out about a hundred times,” Jeff muttered.
“Zobby struck him out,” Drew added.
Jeff chuckled, Drew began to laugh, and even Tommy couldn’t help joining in. The fact that Zobby had struck Caleb out wasn’t what was funny – she was a really good pitcher – but it was that Caleb could never get over it.
“Look,” said Drew, “when springtime comes around, we’ll invite Caleb to do baseball stuff. But not now.”
“All right, whatever,” said Tommy. “So who can we call?”
“I could call Trevor,” said Jeff.
Drew winced at the suggestion. The boys had befriended Trevor since the cheat sheet incident, and now he sometimes sat at their lunch table, but Drew was still uneasy around him. He still felt guilty about what he had done, and he had a lingering worry that something would spark Trevor’s curiosity and lead him to the truth about the cheat sheet.
“Uh, wait,” said Drew, “wasn’t your cousin staying at your house? Is he still there?”
“Yeah,” said Jeff. “He was visiting someone else today, but he might be back.”
“Let’s invite him,” said Drew.
The boys ran up the stairs and into the dining room. Penny was sitting at the table, eating an apple and working on her laptop. As a real estate agent, she could essentially make her own hours to cater to Drew’s schedule.
“Mom, we’re gonna go sled riding at the school.”
Penny’s expression stiffened as she lowered the apple from her mouth.
“I mean, can we go sled riding at the school?”
Penny still didn’t respond. She cast a suspicious glare at her son.
“What?” said Drew. “I’m not grounded anymore, right?”
“Right, but I told you I’d be keeping a closer eye on you from now on.”
“I know, I know. But I’m telling you the truth. We’re going to school to sled ride down the hill and have a snowball fight. It’s the truth, I swear.”
“Don’t worry, Penny, we won’t do anything bad,” said Tommy.
Penny stood up. “You go to the school and nowhere else. And be sure to stick together. No one goes off on his own.” She looked at the clock on the stove. It was 2:02. “And I want you home by four o’clock, not a minute later. And I’m going to call both of your mothers to make sure they know where you’ll be.”
“Okay, but we have to go to Jeff’s first anyway to get the sleds, plus we have to put on snow clothes. Can we make it four-thirty?” Drew asked.
Penny’s response was in the form of a sterner look.
“Four o’clock sounds fair,” said Drew. “But Jeff has to call his house before we go.”
He looked down at his watch, which he hadn’t taken off since his father gave it to him, to make sure he knew what time it was. Mesmerized by the firm, steady ticking of the seconds hand, he kept his eyes on the watch as Jeff dialed. For no particular reason, he felt like timing the call.
“Hey, Mom, it’s me. … Yeah, everything’s fine. … Is RJ back yet? … Can I talk to him? … Okay, thank you. … RJ, do you wanna go sled riding and have a snowball fight with me and my friends? … Yeah, at my school, it’s real close. … Me and two of my friends, Drew and Tommy. You met them before. They were at my birthday party, remember? … Yeah, you did. Tommy’s the taller, athletic one, and Drew’s the one who’s all over the place. … Right, yeah. … ‘Kay, cool, we’ll be there in like ten minutes to get you. … ‘Kay, see ya.”
Drew’s head had shot up. He was confused by what he had just heard.
“All good?” Tommy asked as Jeff hung up the phone.
“Yeah, he’s in.”
“All right, hurry up and get ready so we can stop at my house,” Tommy said to Drew.
Disoriented from Jeff’s comment, Drew nodded and went up to his room. What just happened?
****
As the boys made their way to Tommy’s house, Jeff’s words were running laps in Drew’s head, circling his brain and constricting his thoughts. Drew’s the one who’s all over the place. Drew’s the one who’s all over the place. Drew’s the one who’s all over the place …
Drew couldn’t stop thinking about it. All over the place. What does that even mean? Maybe Jeff meant to say that Drew had a lot of hobbies. Or maybe it was another way of calling him energetic. But the more Drew thought about it, the more he realized it was not an endearing label. Jeff had called Tommy athletic. Why wa
sn’t Drew athletic? Or couldn’t he have said something else – nice, funny, outgoing, something? Why couldn’t he have said Drew’s the one who always wears the Pirates hat? Drew was sure he had been wearing his hat both times he met RJ. Or why not mention that Drew was shorter and thinner than Tommy? There were so many things Jeff could have said. Why did it have to be all over the place?
“Hey, what did that mean before?” he asked Jeff, interrupting Tommy’s guarantees of “lighting everyone up” with snowballs.
“What did what mean?” said Jeff.
“When you were on the phone with RJ, you said I was ‘all over the place’ or something. What does that mean?”
“Yeah, all over the place? It means, uh, you know, all over the place.”
Drew looked at Tommy, hoping to see a face as confused as his own, but Tommy just stared back blankly. It was the face he would make if Jeff had simply said, “Drew has green eyes.”
“Do you know what he’s talking about?” Drew asked Tommy anyway.
“Yeah,” said Tommy, now looking at his phone. “It means sometimes it’s like you’re not paying attention.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s not a big deal. Everyone knows it.”
“Right, and, you know,” Jeff added, “sometimes a teacher calls on you to read and you don’t know where we are because you’re looking at a different page. That’s why I never call on you when we do popcorn reading.”
Jeff didn’t seem like he wanted to defend his comment, but rather that he had to because he had already said it. Still, it felt to Drew like he was just piling on.
“I …” Drew started. The thoughts were swirling around in his head, but he wasn’t sure how to slow them down and form them into the right words.
“Are you mad?” said Jeff. “I really didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Yeah, man. Who cares?” said Tommy. “It’s just, whatever.”
Drew gave a half-hearted smile, and they made their way through the Porters’ front door. Tommy shouted his afternoon plans to his mom, who answered from one of the back rooms, and then he ran upstairs to get changed.
