“We worked on it all night!” he shouted.
“Happy birthday, Felton,” Aleah said.
“Thank you,” I nodded. “Thanks.”
“Now get going, little girl,” Ronald called from the kitchen. “Chocolate chip pancakes coming up.”
Aleah jumped up and headed for the door.
“You ready, Mrs. Berba?” she asked.
“Aleah and I are going to finish your paper route, young man!” Grandma shouted.
“I’m going too!” Andrew followed.
“And it won’t take long because I’m going to run as fast as Felton Reinstein,” Aleah said, running out the door.
“You two make yourselves comfortable,” Ronald called to Jerri and me from the kitchen. “I’ve got some cooking to do.”
I stood there with my mouth hanging open.
“Ah. Cat got your tongue, Felton?” Jerri smiled. She was sort of teary.
“I think I’m experiencing happy?” I said.
“That girl. She can really play piano.” Jerri sat down on the couch in the sort of awkward, slow way she did everything. “Just amazing.”
“Oh, man,” I said.
“Hey, Felton?” Jerri said.
“Yeah?”
“Sit by me?”
I moved and sat down on the couch next to her.
“You know what?” Jerri said. “I watched you running around the house last night.”
“You did?”
“Umm.” Jerri nodded slow. She looked like a little girl. “I watched the whole time. I couldn’t take my eyes off you, Felton.”
“Oh.”
“You run like Aleah plays piano. It’s beautiful.”
“Really?” I never thought about how I looked.
“No offense to Andrew,” Jerri said, “but you run like Aleah plays piano. Not like Andrew. Do you know what I mean?”
“I think so.”
“I hope this thing, this trouble I’m having, won’t stop you from running.”
“No. Your trouble isn’t it why I don’t want to. I just don’t see the value in…”
“You’re not going to play sports?” Jerri blinked.
“No. I can’t. Look what those asshole jocks did to me with the trash last night, Jerri. I don’t want to be like them—like Dad.”
Jerri’s eyes focused. She squinted and looked really serious. Then for the first time in months, an “old Jerri” thing came out of her mouth. She spoke really quiet.
“Listen, Felton, your father was compelled to make different choices. Lots of them were bad. But this is the truth: playing sports was one of the good ones. He was at peace. He was sincerely happy when he was on a tennis court. Nowhere else maybe. But playing? Movement made him happy.”
“Moving?”
“He was beautiful when he ran.”
“But look what those jocks did to our yard,” I said.
“Those people—those jocks—they really don’t matter.”
“I don’t know.”
“Of course, I’m crazy,” Jerri said, staring out the window, the sun beginning to light the trees around the house. “I don’t even know if I make sense.”
“Yeah,” I laughed.
Jerri didn’t laugh.
“Thanks, Jerri,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
***
Bacon sizzled in the kitchen. Ronald hummed along to classical music. Jerri stared out the picture window. And I got up to use the bathroom and noticed the masks had been removed from the living room and replaced by Gus’s parents’ mountain photos. There were boxes in the hall—and half-packed suitcases too.
***
After Grandma, Aleah, and Andrew got back, we ate. I stared at Aleah the whole time. She looked at me and nodded like Jerri, like a little girl. Breakfast was delicious and—I’m not kidding—cheery. Then we all moved to the living room and talked like nothing at all was wrong in the world. But I couldn’t get the idea out of my brain that I might never see Aleah again.
Before we left, Aleah grabbed my arm and pulled me down the hall. She put her hands on my shoulders and stared at me. Then she said, “I didn’t know what to do, Felton. You know, when you didn’t return my calls? I didn’t know what to do. Daddy told me to give you space.”
“I thought…”
“Andrew said you were acting all weird, so I decided to give you space.”
“You didn’t want to…I was acting weird?” Duh.
“I had the greatest summer,” Aleah said. “I…I loved every second.”
“But I thought…”
“Last spring, I wrote out a list about the only kind of person I’d want for a boyfriend. I met him, exactly.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, Felton. Duh.”
“Exactly?”
“Funny, gentle, passionate.”
“Passionate?”
“About football.”
“Oh.”
“You ask me questions and tell me stories and…”
“But I don’t understand opera. And I’m sort of a chucklehead. And my family is a disaster. And I say honky because I don’t know what it means. And I freak out like a little kid.”
“You think I want to date an old man? I want to be with another kid.”
“Oh.”
“I’d like you to listen to opera though.”
“I’ll try, Aleah. I’m not sure if Andrew has any CDs.”
“Please, Felton. We’re leaving as soon as Daddy’s grades are in. Please.”
“When?”
“This afternoon, late morning if Daddy can get done.”
“Oh, crap.”
She spoke quickly.
“Please. Please. Can we stay together? I feel like I’m going to die without you,” she said. “Please?”
“Oh.” I paused and thought. “I’m so sorry,” I said.
Aleah stared at me. She swallowed hard.
“It’s okay. I know you’re having a hard time right now. I know. I know.”
“What? No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“It isn’t?”
“No, no, no. I want to be together.”
“Oh!”
“I’m just sorry I’m so weird.”
“Shut up, Felton. You know I like that,” Aleah said.
Then we hugged for approximately six years. Then we kissed.
Then we said good-bye and kissed some more.
Then we went into the living room, and I said good-bye to Mr. Jennings. Jerri, Grandma, Andrew, and me all shook hands with him, etc. Then my family left for home, with Andrew’s bike jammed in the back of the SUV. I turned and watched Aleah’s house disappear. How would it ever be Gus’s again?
“Wow, Aleah is the greatest,” Andrew said, smiling at me.
CHAPTER 58: BIRTHDAY
We spent the afternoon of my birthday in the big city! Dubuque, Iowa. We went out for lunch at a brew pub (I ate a Reuben) and then went bicycle shopping for me. That was Grandma Berba’s present.
“Since I’m not getting you a car, we can spend a lot of money,” she said.
“I’m so sorry I was a jerk about your permit,” Jerri said.
“I don’t want a car,” I told her. And I didn’t.
In the end, we did spend a lot of money. Well, $800 anyway, a lot more than the old $10 limit, on a road bike. I took it for a test spin and raced cars up Dubuque’s big hill. It rides much easier than the Varsity, which I’ll always love but am glad is gone. This bike is super fast and thus matches me. Then Jerri bought me a new cell phone, which I appreciated, as I had just bashed mine to bits, much like I bashed my poor Schwinn to bits. Then we went to a movie. I sort of wanted to see a teen flick but didn’t want to bawl about Aleah, so we ended up going to a serious Meryl Streep movie that was just depressing.
Andrew loved it: “Ooooh. Ohhhhh.”
Grandma and I didn’t: “Blah blah blah.”
Jerri stared at her shoes through it. What else would she have done?
She was leaving for Arizona the next morning.
On the way home from Dubuque, I got that weird feeling again, sort of a light feeling. I believe I was feeling happy. I looked over at Andrew, who was sleeping because he’d been up all night practicing piano with Aleah, and smiled. Good kid.
Back home, I charged my phone and watched TV with Jerri in Jerri’s room while Grandma Berba cleaned the trash from the drive (she insisted she do it, and I was grateful for that).
Around 8 p.m., my phone connected to the network. Within minutes, I received my first text. It was from Aleah. It said:
See Chicago skyline. Very sad. I’m serious about you.
me too, I replied.
You replied! YAY! :)
new phone!!!
We continued to text until Aleah arrived at her Chicago apartment. She called.
“I’m here. I miss you.”
“I miss you.”
“Talk tomorrow, Felton. Okay?”
I didn’t have a chance to say okay back. I could hear Ronald telling her to get moving in the background. She hung up.
Then I knew it was time to run because I had ten thousand square inches of adrenaline jangling in my legs. It was nearly 9:30, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep unless I ran some of this energy off.
CHAPTER 59: GRAVEL ASSAULT
I was outside running my laps around the house for maybe a half hour when a car peaked the hill on the main road and began to roll down toward our drive. It was pretty rare for cars to drive out this way, especially after dark. I had a feeling I knew who it was.
I stopped in my tracks, hands on my hips. I was breathing hard, loose-muscled, really pumped. Oh, yeah, I thought. Just do it, jerks. Just trash me.
I slid through the dark, down the side of the drive as fast and smooth as I could. It was a minivan. Come to Papa, I thought. It’s go time. I reached down and grabbed two handfuls of gravel from the driveway and bent into a crouch in the shadows of the ditch. They would pay, these honky trashers of my yard. That’s right. The van slowed to a crawl. I could see the windows were open in front. An easy target.
The van made a turn into our drive. It’s them! I leaped out of the ditch and blackness, screaming like hell. I threw both handfuls of gravel at the passenger window as hard as I could, shouting yahhhh! Because I don’t throw that well, most of the gravel hit the side of the van, but some went in because there was an immediate scream. The van skidded to a halt. Someone cried “I have dirt my eye!” I recognized the voice. Karpinski. That jerk! Gonna shake me out of bed? Girls screamed. I bent and picked up another handful of gravel and reared back ready to let them have it point blank and then I heard Cody’s voice shout “Reinstein, stop! What are you doing?”
I paused.
A girl voice said, “Is Reinstein attacking us?”
“Yeah, he is! I’ve got a piece of gravel in my damn eyeball,” I heard Karpinski say.
I walked up closer and looked in the window. Karpinski sat there barely lit by my house. I could see there was a bunch of dirt on his face (my dirt). He was rubbing his right eye. Cody drove the van across from Karpinski.
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked still mad, but less sure.
“Why are you throwing rocks at my dad’s van, man?” Cody shouted.
“I…I thought you were someone else,” I said.
“Oh, John Spencer and those guys, huh?” Karpinski said, still rubbing his eye.
“Yeah,” I nodded, although I didn’t exactly know what I was nodding about.
“What a bunch of assholes. They even came to your party. Cody had to tell them to get the hell out. Total assholes.”
“Reinstein,” Cody barked. “Get in the damn van.”
“Um, okay,” I said. Am I the jerk?
The side door slid open, and I stepped in. In the back sat chuckleheaded Jason Reese (“Hey, Rein Stone. How’s it going, man?”) and Abby Sauter and Jess Withrow (“Reinsteeeeeeiiinnnn!”). It was the whole honky all-star crew from my grade.
I sat down on a bench next to Reese.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “We heard about what Spencer was doing. You should totally kick his ass.”
“Were you going to kill him with your gravel, Reinstein?” Abby asked.
“Yes, I was,” I said very soberly. Oh, no. I’m the jerk.
Cody backed up and began to drive up the main road.
“Why didn’t you come to your party, Rein Stone?” Karpinski turned and said.
“Um.” I thought fast, embarrassed. “I had to protect my property from Spencer. Plus, my phone broke or I would’ve called. My mom has been really sick.”
“Oh, we were wondering why you weren’t getting your messages. Sucks,” Jess said. “Is she okay?”
“Better,” I nodded. “A little.”
“Well, you don’t have to protect your property anymore,” Reese said. “When Cody was kicking Spencer out, Ken Johnson found out what he was doing to you and totally went off. He said he’d beat all those guys stupid if they ever dropped trash even near your place again.”
“Ken Johnson?” I asked. The surprise in my voice wasn’t hidden.
“He feels terrible, man,” Karpinski said. “He came to your party to apologize.”
“Yeah, man,” Cody said, “He told me to say he’s sorry about what he did in the weight room. He freaked himself out, I think. He leaves for Iowa City in the morning or he’d have come with us.”
“Ken Johnson?” I said again.
“Are you deaf?” Karpinski said. “Ken Johnson!”
“And now we bring your party to you!” Abby said.
“Rocky Crotch,” Cody nodded. “I mean…Can you leave your mom?”
“Yeah, yeah. My grandma’s here.”
We rolled past the baseball fields and then the schools and the practice fields and then further east, toward the Mound. Abby and Jess and Reese all laughed. Karpinski and Cody were quiet. I sat there with that feeling I’d had a couple times before during the day. I was also thinking this: Felton Reinstein is seriously paranoid. He jumps to conclusions and is quick to turn on people close to him (such as Peter Yang, Gus, Cody, even Aleah). And also this: Felton Reinstein can’t listen to the voice in his head anymore because it’s most often dead wrong. Talk all you want, voice. I’m not listening.
We pulled up in front of the Mound and parked. Karpinski jumped out of the van and shouted “Rocky Crotch!” Then he slid open the sliding door, letting the four of us out of the back. Cody opened the hatch and pulled out a box. He showed it to me under the light. It was a cake in the shape of a football.
“Kind of looks like a turd,” he said. The message on it was HAPPY 16 REIN STONE.
We climbed halfway up the big M and then crossed over to the middle where the M comes together in a point. The honky all-stars called this the Rocky Crotch because there are big rocks right at the M’s crotch. We sat on those rocks, ate cake, made jokes, talked about nothing, and looked out over the twinkling nighttime lights of Bluffton and the farms around it. Elf land.
It was perfect and great to be with these honkies. It occurred to me that my older self might have been remembering this night the last time I was on the mound. I didn’t say anything about that, of course.
As we were finishing up, Cody said, “Hey, Reinstein, listen.” He paused. He was sort of shaky.
“Okay.”
“You know, we all know about your dad. I guess we’ve always known, you know?”
“Yeah?” I said really quiet.
“I can’t believe I was so mean to you,” Abby said.
“We’ve been talking about it all summer,” Cody said. “We’re so sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Karpinski nodded. Reese nodded too. Jess stared down at her hands.
“We suck, Rein Stone,” Karpinski said.
And then I almost cried like a baby. Almost went donkey. I held it together, but my eyes were really wet. I said, “Thanks. It’s been kind of bad. Not because of you guys. I had a tough childhoo
d.”
“Yeah,” Cody said, quietly.
“And I’m really weird. Seriously,” I said.
“Yeah, you are,” Jess said. She was smiling. “Remember your shiny jewel pouch?”
“Your brother is really, really weird,” Karpinski said.
“He’s a good kid,” I laughed.
“Remember when he was sitting upside down in your driveway?” Karpinski asked, like I wouldn’t remember.
“Yeah,” I laughed. “But you’d like him if you knew him. He’s a good kid!”
“I already like him,” Karpinski said. “He’s your brother.”
“I’m not going to be mean to anybody ever again,” Reese nodded.
“My dad said because he’s a cop and he sees weird stuff all the time that everybody’s weird,” Cody said.
“I’m not,” Abby said.
“What are you talking about, Sauter? Everything that comes out of your mouth is weird,” Cody said.
“You mean psycho,” said Karpinski.
“Shut up!” Abby said.
“No, really. You’re psycho,” Cody laughed.
“I have to go home,” Reese said. “Dad is waiting up for me so he can smell my breath.”
“That’s disgusting,” Jess said.
“See, he’s weird too,” Abby said.
We walked down from Rocky Crotch, laughing and pushing, and then drove back to town.
When Cody dropped me off, he made me take the rest of the cake. All the lights were on in the house. Instead of going in through the garage, I climbed up the steps and went in the front door into the living room. Grandma Berba and Jerri were up and waiting for me.
Grandma stood as I entered.
“Where have you been, Felton Reinstein?” she shouted.
“We almost called the police, Felton” Jerri said. She looked shaky.
I tilted the box so they could see the half-eaten cake.
“Um, my friends threw me a surprise party,” I said.
“Oh,” Grandma tilted her head. “That’s sweet.”
“Is Gus back?” Jerri asked. “Did Peter pick you up?”
“Cody Frederick, Karpinski, Reese, Jess Withrow, and Abby Sauter,” I said.
“Abby Sauter?” Jerri’s mouth hung open.
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