Hey, Nobody's Perfect

by Ann Herrick

  "Yeah." Russ put the last dish in the rack and poured in the dishwashing detergent. "But it's good to get all the possibilities out in the open."

  "Yes, it is," I said. Russ is really growing up, I thought. Some day we might even be really close and—

  "Hey! I gotta go." Russ slugged my arm. He grabbed his skateboard. "I'm meeting the guys at the park."

  Well, it was a start, I thought, rubbing my arm. Speaking of starts, I had to call Dad. Or I could wait. That would be easier. I caught myself. The time was now.

  I took a deep breath, shaking as I made the call. The phone rang twice. Dad's voice mail came on. I wondered if he really "couldn't answer the phone right now," or if he just didn't want to talk to me.

  I didn't leave a message. Instead, I called Keeley. He at least answered.

  "Hi, Keeley."

  "Hey, what's up?"

  Up. What was up? "Um. I was thinking. Do you want to … to visit Todd? Maybe we can, you know, cheer him up?

  "You mean convince him that life would still be worth living even if he ends up a 'crip' like me?" Keeley said totally matter-of-factly.

  "Uh, something like that." I tightened my hold on my phone.

  "Sure. Pick you up in twenty minutes?"

  "Great. Thanks."

  My pulse did a little skip when Keeley came to the door. Weird, considering that we were on a mission to cheer up Todd. On the way over to the hospital I said, "Maybe we should stop and get some flowers."

  "I don't think Todd's the flower type."

  "Candy?"

  "Better idea." Keeley tapped the steering wheel with his knuckles. "Chicken wings."

  "Chicken wings?"

  "Yeah. I saw him downing them at Marcy's party."

  Ugh, the party. "Yes, now that you mention it, I remember, but maybe the hospital wouldn't, you know, approve."

  "So? We'll sneak them in." Keeley let out a small laugh. "Dude! Live dangerously."

  "Well .…"

  Next thing, Keeley pulled into the drive-up lane of Chicken King and ordered one small box of wings. "I figure it'll be easier to sneak in a small box of wings than a large bucket."

  "Right."

  After we picked up the box of wings at the drive-up window, Keeley handed them to me and said, "Grab that gym bag from the back seat and put the wings in there. It'll be less conspicuous."

  "Sure. A gym bag that smells like chicken. No one will notice," I said, but I did as I was told.

  When we got to the hospital, Keeley wheeled inside like a breeze. I skulked along beside him. At the elevators Keeley pushed the button for Todd's floor. "Try not to look so suspicious."

  "Sorry." I took a deep breath and shook my hands, as if that would get rid of my anxiety. Luckily, no one got on the elevator with us. Still, I was nervous. At any moment, the elevator could stop and someone would get on, take one whiff of the gym bag and alert the chicken-wing patrol.

  As the elevator rose, Keeley took my hand and said, "We're not trying to smuggle in a bomb. It's just chicken wings."

  "As anyone who gets on this elevator after us will immediately know .…"

  Keeley grinned. "If you want, I could destroy the evidence with a fart."

  "No! That's okay!" I couldn't help giggling. "I'll take my chances."

  When we got to Todd's room, there were no visitors, just several vases of flowers on the table next to his bed and Todd staring at an episode of "Days of Our Lives."

  "Careful," Keeley said. "You don't want to get addicted to soap operas."

  Todd responded with something that sounded like a cross between a snort and a laugh. "Don't worry." As he turned off the TV, he sniffed the air. "Mmm. What's that smell?"

  Keeley held up the gym bag. "Sivia, why don't you make the grand presentation?"

  "To what do I owe this honor?" I asked.

  "It was your idea."

  "No, bringing something was my idea. This was your idea."

  "Guys." Todd shot us a look of annoyance.

  "Um, okay. Sorry." I reached into the gym bag, pulled out the box and, with a small curtsy, handed it to Todd.

  "Chicken wings!" The tiniest hint of a smile played at the corners of Todd's lips. "Thanks." He reached into the box, grabbed a wing and sucked off the meat in one swift move. "Sure beats hospital food." He held the box out to us. "Want some?"

  I was afraid of being caught in the act of eating forbidden substances, so I declined the offer.

  Keeley, however, plucked a couple of wings from the box. "Thanks."

  "So, how's it going?" I asked.

  "Okay," Todd said. "They've got me practicing using crutches." He gave me a sidelong glance. "What's really up?"

  "Up? Nothing's up. What would be up?" I said, my words all shaky. I'd never make it as an undercover agent.

  "We're here to convince you that no matter what happens with your leg, life is still worth living." Keeley reached for another chicken wing, while I tried not to pass out at his bluntness.

  "At least you're honest." Todd let out a kind of a half-brittle, half-real laugh. "Not that I haven't already heard the drill from the doctors, my mother, Lona …." He ticked the names off on his fingers. "The doctors have to say stuff like that. My mom, well, of course she's going to. Lona, I think she's just sorry for me and feels she has to cheer me up. And no one else, except you guys, has come to see me."

  "Are you kidding? About Lona, I mean. She likes you!" I said.

  "Yeah, right." Todd shot me a twisted smile. "She brought me flowers." He pointed to a sweet arrangement of daisies and carnations. "Because I'm in the hospital, that's all."

  Keeley jumped in with, "And she hung out with you at the party, because …?"

  "Because you guys asked her to 'keep an eye on me,'" Todd said.

  "That's true." I planted my hands on my hips. "So, why, out of all the girls at the party, did we ask Lona?"

  "Because you ran into her first," Todd said.

  Okay, that was true, but I didn't want Keeley to confirm that, because I knew the whole story. "It was because I knew she liked you!"

  "Sure …." Todd tried to wave me off.

  "Todd, Lona may be a cheerleader, but that doesn't mean she isn't a little shy. I saw the way she would always look at you, but you were so focused on Marcy—" As soon as I mentioned her name I wished I could have swallowed the word.

  "Marcy." Todd got a sour look on his face. "Notice how Marcy has not come to see me. Not sent flowers. Not called. Not texted. Not anything. And she won't. Basketball is what I am. Was. I can't play basketball. Not this year. Probably not next year. Maybe never."

  "It had nothing to do with your leg." I paused to let that sink in. "Marcy dumped you at the party. Before the accident!"

  Todd was momentarily speechless. Then he laughed.

  "Way to cheer up a guy." Keeley pulled a piece of greenery out of one of the flower arrangements and used it to whip my hand.

  "Hey, at least he laughed," I said. And it looked like a genuine laugh, I did not add. "Todd, you know Marcy's history. She dumps guys all the time. They look at another girl for two seconds, or they forget it's their third-week anniversary or they score only the second-highest number of points in a game and poof, they're gone."

  "Forget Marcy," Keeley said. "Lona's the real deal."

  I wasn't sure if Keeley really thought that or if he was just going along, but whatever. It looked as if Todd was starting to believe it.

  He poked at one of the daisies in the arrangement Lona had given him. "Yeah. Well."

  "Todd." A doctor strolled into the room. "I'd like to have a word with you."

  If he noticed the chicken wings, he didn't say anything about them.

  Keeley and I exchanged nervous glances. I knew we had to give the doctor and Todd some privacy, but I didn't want to leave the hospital. What if this was going to be bad news? "Um, we need to hit the drinking fountain," I said. "We'll be right back."

  Keeley and I did go to the drinking fountain, partly be
cause that's where I'd said we go and partly because we still had a good view of the door to Todd's room from there.

  "What do you think?" Keeley asked. "Did it look as if the doctor had good new or bad news?"

  "I don't know. I guess his face was kind of neutral. I think doctors practice that look."

  After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, the doctor left Todd's room and went down the hall to another.

  "Okay." I took a deep breath. "Let's go."

  We agreed to enter Todd's room looking kind of cheerful but not too cheerful, because who knew what the doctor said.

  "We're ba-a-a-a-a-ck!" Keeley gave a spooky wave of his fingers.

  "You want the good news first or the bad news?" Todd tried to look all I'm-okay, but the way he smiled too much sort of gave him away.

  "Good news," I said.

  "I get out of the hospital this afternoon and can go back to school tomorrow, if I feel up to it."

  "And besides having to go back to school, the bad news is ...?" Keeley said.

  "The bad news is that the doctors are 'cautiously optimistic.'" Todd fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. "Not 'totally', not 'mostly', just cautiously. He said they'll keep an eye on my leg, check things out, and in six months or so they'll know better if the healing process is going okay."

  So you could still lose your leg? I did not say. "I don't think doctors toss around the word optimistic casually," I did say, "even if they throw in a qualifying adjective."

  "Right," Keeley said. "My parents told me that right after I was born the doctors told them they were optimistic that I'd be able to be almost anything I wanted—except a punter, a placekicker or a Rockette."

  "The doctors really said that?" Todd gave Keeley a you-don't-really-expect-me-to-believe-that look.

  "Okay, they didn't mention the Rockettes, but the rest was true."

  Todd jutted out his chin and raised his hands in mock surrender. "All right, I'll c-cross my fingers that my leg will be f-fine, but either way I'm going to have a perfect life." He didn't look convinced, but it was a start that he even uttered the words.

  Nobody's life is perfect, I wanted to say. But it sounded so trite that I didn't. Besides, Todd's voice was shaky. It was clear he had trouble even putting up a brave front. Still, even though he didn't look convinced, it was a start that he even uttered the words.

  At that moment, Lona stepped into the room. She struggled to hold onto a stack of magazines with a box of candy balanced on top. "Hi. Room for one more?"

  "We were just leaving," Keeley said. He reached over to the table next to Todd's bed, picked up the box of wings and handed them to Todd. "Make sure Lona gets her share. See you in school."

  With that, we left.

  When we got in the van, Keeley said, "I think we're going to have to show-not-tell with Todd."

  "You mean, like take him to one of your basketball games."

  "Yeah. I mean, like kidnap him if we have to."

  Keeley and I both had a ton of homework due the next day, so he took me straight home. Mom wasn't there. I grabbed a soda and went to my room to call Dad. I got his voice mail again. I decided I'd just talk to him in the morning when he came over to see me and Russ off to school.

  When Mom came home, she was in a great mood, so it didn't take much courage to talk to her. She told me again that she hoped I wouldn't give up softball, because she thought it was my best chance for a scholarship. But then she said the decision was mine, and she'd back me up on it.

  Decision. That word again. Life would be so simple if we didn't have to keep making decisions!

  As I padded into the kitchen the next morning, I noticed the peace and quiet. Mom hummed softly to herself. Russ poured a bowl of oat bran cereal. What was wrong with this picture, besides Ross eating oat bran?

  Then I realized that it was late and Dad still wasn't here. Was he so pissed at me over maybe quitting softball that he wouldn't show up at all?

  The phone rang. Mom waltzed over to answer it. Her expression dimmed. "Oh? I see. Don't worry about it. Goodbye."

  "Was that Dad?" I asked.

  "Yes. He won't be coming over this morning."

  "Oh?" I pushed my hair back. "Did he say why?"

  "He had to get to the school early this morning and just wouldn't have time. He also said something about being busy all afternoon with meetings, but he'll be here tomorrow, as usual."

  "Oh." I waited for more. I don't know what, but, more. Mom was pouring herself a cup of coffee and humming again. So I guess either Dad was still totally ticked at me, or he really did just have to get to work early. I hoped it was the latter.

  At least without the usual interruption from Dad, Russ and I were ready for school extra early. There didn't seem to be much point in hanging around the house, so we took off. The sun was bright and the sky was clear except for a few small puffy clouds dancing on the horizon. I kept checking over my shoulder, half expecting to see Keeley pulling over to offer me a ride. But I guess I was out too early for him.

  At the corner Russ breezed off to his school, and I enjoyed the feeling of the sun on my back the rest of the way in.

  When I got to my locker, Ilana was busy shuffling books in and out of her locker.

  "So here you are." Keeley wheeled up to us. "I wondered why I didn't see you on the way to school." As he opened his locker, several sheets of paper fluttered out. He caught them before they hit the floor.

  I said, "Some of us are just organized in the morning."

  "Speaking of organized," Ilana said, stuffing books into her king-sized book bag, "Gavin and I finally worked out every last detail for the dance. I can't wait until Friday when it's over and I can relax." She hoisted the bag onto her shoulder. "Gotta run to French class. See ya."

  "Bye," I said.

  "Say," Keeley said, "speaking of the dance—"

  "Ah, there you are, Sivia." It was Ms Romanos, my P.E. teacher and softball coach, and she was looking grim. Without so much as an excuse me she stepped between me and Keeley. "May I talk to you? Privately?"

  "Look at the time," Keeley said in an extra loud voice. "I've got to go. Literally."

  "See you later." I tried not to laugh. Keeley was mimicking Ms Romanos' serious expression.

  Ms Romanos got right to the point. "Your father came to see me this morning."

  So that's what Dad had meant when he said he had to be at school early. He didn't mean the university. He meant here!

  I didn't say anything as Ms Romanos rose up on her toes, then rolled back on her heels. The whistle she wore on a cord around her neck swayed forward, then came to rest on her sweatshirt. "Your father tells me you're not going to play softball this year."

  "I didn't say that." I really had to talk to Dad!

  "Oh?" Ms Romanos raised an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

  "I said that I might not play softball this year." Before she could ask, I added, "My reasons are personal, and I have not made a final decision."

  "Ah. I see." In an uncharacteristic gesture, Ms Romanos reached out and patted my arm. "Well, Sivia, all I can say is I hope you'll play. You're an excellent pitcher with lots of potential, not to mention that as a person you are a fine addition to the team."

  With that, she tilted her chin, turned and left, leaving me standing there with my mouth open. I barely had time to reassess my opinion of Ms Romanos, when Marcy Stratton marched up to me.

  "What's this I hear about y-you not playing this year?" She practically scalded me with her glare, but her voice was oddly fragile and shaking.

  "Well, um, I—"

  "We have a chance to be state champs." She ground out the words between her teeth, but still the tiniest hint of desperation crept into her voice. "A good chance. I could be top batter in the championship game. Do you know what that means?"

  Sure. It means you think you need me on the team. Knowing that could make dealing with you a whole lot easier. In a voice as cool as ice water I said, "Don't
worry, Marcy. When I decide, you'll be one of the first to know. By the way, in case you don't know, Todd might be back at school today."

  Marcy's mouth dropped open.

  I spun around, not waiting for any sounds that might emerge her gaping lips. Unfortunately, I was so busy congratulating myself for standing up to Marcy that I almost crashed into Keeley. "Yipes!" I exclaimed. "Where did you come from?"

  "Well, first my parents met, then they fell in love and got married, then—"

  "Hold it." I clapped my hand over his mouth. "When you're ready to give me a serious answer," I semi-threatened, "I'll remove my hand."

  "Mmmmmmf."

  "I'll take that to mean you're ready to be serious."

  He nodded.

  I pulled my hand away from his mouth.

  "I was just around the corner," Keeley said. "When Ms Romanos flew by, I figured the coast was clear. Then I saw you fraternizing with the enemy, I mean Marcy. Are you okay? Any flesh wounds?"

  I laughed. "We had a totally civilized discussion. I explained that she'll be one of the first to know my future plans concerning softball. Not that she cares, but I also mentioned that Todd might be back at school today."

  "Good for you. Speaking of future plans …." Keeley grinned suggestively. "I wanted to ask you about going to the—"

  "Hey, Parrish!" It was Todd, on crutches. "I forgot to ask. Did you let the air out of my tires at Marcy's Friday night?"

  Uh-oh. Blame-game time. I chewed my lip. Todd didn't exactly look happy. I'd been with Keeley the whole time, so that made me an accessory.

  Keeley said, "Yes. I let the air out of your tires."

  For a few seconds the words just hung in the air.

  Then Todd ran his fingers through his hair and said, "Thanks."

  You could've knocked me over with a leaf, but Keeley seemed to take it in stride. "Any time."

  Todd let out a small laugh. "I mean it. I was in no condition to drive." He held his finger to his lips. "Not from drinking. Don't rat me out, but I don't actually drink that much. I had a few sips of beer, and a couple swallows of Scotch. That's it. It was pretty much for show."