squidge ler

7/30/2019 Squidge Ler

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OO sidgels! My brother points his short, chubby, dirty nger at me. I etter sidgels.

Mom, I say, I don t understand him. Honestly, I don t. What did he just say?

My mother pulls David s t-shirt over his head and then grabs a baby wipe and rubs it

over his face.Mmfftt, David says. She grabs his hands to wipe them and he looks at me under herarmpit.

Sidgeler. OO a sidgeler. He shouts.

I shake my head. Is that English? I ask. It s a rhetorical question because I don texpect an answer. Because I am sure if I look it up, that word is not in any Englishdictionary.

He said, my mother sighs and she struggles to keep David still enough to pull hispants up over his training underwear. Yeah, he s three but he still wears trainingunderwear.

He said, she repeats, that you are a squidgeler.

I give her a look of disbelief. Right! and what is a squidgeler?

I have a problem. It started when David began to put his baby words together insentences. I. Don t. Understand. Him. And apparently, I am the ONLY person in theentire universe - or in my family which is large enough - who doesn t.

Emma who is 13, carries on long, delightful conversations with David when she giveshim his bath.

Dana, who is 9 knows exactly what David means.

Ralph who is 7, has been my translator for the past year. But today Ralph is on his rstever sleep-over at the house of someone who does not know the bliss of sibling-hood.

Dad might not understand David but he s out of town on business and he thinks David isso cute, it doesn t matter.

Oh Andrew, my mother sighs. Here is the thing with my mother s sighs. I understand her sighs. This one means:

Dear Andrew, I love all my children equally and it upsets me that you insist onpretending that you don t understand David.


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I nd out that I am right about what the sigh means because she says so in the nextsecond.

Mom, I protest, my not understanding him has nothing to do with whether or not I love the little snapnose. I don t know what he s saying half the time - MOST of the time, I

add.You used to understand. My mother mutters.

I did? This is me thinking inside my head. Then I remember this book Mom and Dadread to me once or twice-ish. It was a book by that Mary Poppins lady - not her - thelady who wrote about her. Anyway, these babies can understand what the birds sayand then the birds come back in the Spring and the babies are talking English and don tunderstand the birds anymore.

I thought it was sad but sort of cool, as if everyone understood the birds when they were

babies and that somewhere in our brains hidden in a cupboard behind English there is abox that could help us understand the birds and animals again - if we could just nd it.

So, I ask my mother who has managed to get Snapnose Super s socks and little boysandals on. Is it like in the story by whats-her-name where the babies grow up anddon t understand the animals anymore? Did I grow out of understanding David?

Mom looks around the room. Wrestling David into his clothes usually causes upheavalsthat rival small to moderate earthquakes - 5 on the Richter scale, approximately.

It is much easier to get him OUT of his clothes, since he is not only a Snapnose but a

Nature Boy. And they call him the Streak...

I am waiting for an answer and Mom turns and seems startled to see me.

Well, I ask again, is that what it s like?

What what s like? Mom starts picking up David s blanket and pillow.

Like I grew up and don t understand David anymore. Is that what happened?

Andrew, what are you talking about? Mom looks at me and she is irritated. Not at me,

I hope, just at having ve kids and one of them is David. Honestly, Andrew, I don

tunderstand you at all.

So I retreat. I go into my bedroom and twitch my sheets and blanket over my pjs andashlight so that the bed approaches made Then I call to Mom.

I made my bed. Can I go to the park? Which was why I was in David and Ralph s romin the rst place. The bed making is just because Mom seems out of sorts.


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Did you really make your bed? Mom calls back and her voice indicates that she verymuch wants to believe that I made my bed but she is so very very afraid that she will bedisappointed.

Now, it is my turn to sigh so I go back and put my book on the table and the ashlight inthe drawer and I pull the top sheet at - sort of. The wrinkles are pretty small and I pullthe blanket over the top sheet and I smooth my hand over everything and twitch thisand pull that and plump up my pillow and stick my pjs under it.

Yep, I call out the door. I really made my bed. Can I go to the park?

May I go to the park, please? My mother corrects me, because I can go to the park. Iam able to go to the park. What I am asking for is permission to go to the park.

Right. I agree and then because honestly sometimes a guy has to, you know, say

things, I say, Well, CAN I? PLEASE? You know, as if I misunderstood her correction.

Mom is downstairs by now in the kitchen hoping very much that David will eat hisbreakfast without wearing any of it. Still, I hear her sigh, All The Way Up Here.

Come back when the Church chimes. She tells me. I have come down the stairs andI am waiting with my hand on the back door.

OK, I sing and I race out the door.

Don t slam....

Too late, the door slams behind me with a satisfying Thwack and I am gone from thehouse where my incomprehensible little brother rides herd over my family.

My best friend in the whole world is Gabby, Gabrielle, Malantonio. And I KNOW, she s agirl. Get OVER it. So what? Really? Right now and for as long as I can remember, weare/were still best friends.

Her Dad runs the cemetery right next to the park. When I go to the park, everyoneunderstands that I am going to the cemetery. At least they should. And Gabrielle and

I usually end up in the cemetery in our secret hideout under the enormous forsythia.

It is stupendous under there. We can still stand up once we get all the way in. Well, Ican stand up. Gabby gets branches in her hair. When I catch up tall-wise, and even if Idon t, we will soon have to nd a more appropriate place to meet. Or so, Emma tellsme. Something about boys and girls. I don t want to know.


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This not-understanding-David thing bugs me. I am not sure why but I sort of feel it stime for the little Snapnose to adjust to his environment - face reality - you know, growup. And making him speak ENGLISH, I feel, will help him.

I tell Gabby this and she argues with me. As in TAKES his Snapnosy - ness s side!

Drew, he s three. She says this in a Listen-to-me sort of way. Gabby is very good withthe listen-to-me voice.

I know and that means he has been here, on this planet, for three whole years. I pointout. He should let his native language slip away. When on Earth, do as the Earthlingsdo.

I am making a joke of course, but these words will come back to me later.

OK, Gabby giggles, so what did he say this morning?

She is offering to translate since Ralph is gone until tomorrow morning. He made hisgetaway before breakfast. I do NOT blame him, not one little bit.

He called me a squidgeler.

A chiseler? Gabby s eyes are large with surprise. She has enormous dark eyes.Hmm, I never noticed that they are sort of chocolate-y.

I don t answer right away since I am distracted by the thought of chocolate but I shakemy head and say, No, a squidgeler. Ssssss -kkwwwiiiiiiiddd-ggge -ler.

Squidgeler!!?? Gabby sits back in confusion rounding her shoulders and slapping herhand on her knees. We are sitting cross legged in our cave.

Exactly, right? I agree with her reaction completely.

It sort of sounds like he s calling you a squiggler, like you squiggle around a lot. Gabbysays after thinking with her eyes narrowed. They are still very brown even narrowed.

Oh! Oh! Thank you, Gabby!! I throw up my hands and look up at the green leafy roofover our heads. That s what he was saying. I told him not to squiggle. How did I not

understand that? I shake my head.

Unless, of course, you are a squidgeler? Gabby looks at me thoughtfully. What doyou think a squidgeler is, anyway?

I shrug. Let s go to the library and look it up. I suggest.


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So we nd Gabby s dad - he is talking to prospective tenants - and Gabby runs up andtells him where we are going and he turns and waves to me and calls - Church chimes,remember!

And I give him a snappy salute. It s our thing. And he laughs.

I like Gabby s Dad. He is easy to please. He has these little routines and I guess theyare, as my granddad says, corny but they make him smile. That makes me smile.

Gabby sighs, though, because he s her Dad. Your own parents might be cute and funnyto your friends but to YOU, they are just...

So embarrassing, Gabby mutters and we head down the street to the library.

I argue with her in a friendly sort of way, pointing out just how MORE embarrassing herDad could be. And then we are in the library.

I go for the big dictionary and Gabby logs online. In a second she pssts at me and I goover.

There it is on a Google site about made-up words. Some lady in Massachusetts used itto mean wriggle or shudder involuntarily.

And what does that even mean? I ask in frustration. To shudder involuntarily.Nobody shudders on purpose .

Look up shudder, I tell her,

There, I say in triumph, a little too loudly. To shiver involuntarily. So if shudder means to shiver involuntarily, does squidgel mean to involuntarily shiver involuntarily?

Somebody nearby giggles. We turn around and Susette Michelle - that is her rst ANDlast name - is looking at us and giggling.

Andrew, you are soooo funny, she says and she winks at me. Then she stands theresort of twisting side to side in a swingy sort of way and running her one hand up anddown her other arm.

Oh hi, I say. And she rubs her hand up and down. And I say, Are you, like... cold?

It s August, silly. She says and she gives me a little st poke, sort of like a wimpypunch. I ll see you in school, she sings as she skips away.

I feel my face all squinched up - and squinched is probably not a word either - with asense of HUH? There are three letters that Emma uses on Faceplace to express this


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sort of feeling but I happen to know what the third letter stands for so I will just say WTH- what the heck??

Gabby is swinging side to side rubbing her arm and smiling at me when I turn to look ather. She winks and lisps - Susette doesn t lisp much - Thee you in thchool.

She doesn

t st poke me. Instead, she gives me a little nger wiggle and pretends tosashay off.

She doesn t get very far because she is snorting with laughter.

And suddenly I am, too. So, since snorting with laughter, loudly, is frowned on in thelibrary, we stagger outside and lucky for us, Susette is nowhere in sight. Because weare laughing at her, sort of, and we both also, sort of, like Susette. So we don t want tohurt her feelings.

Oh darn, Gabby says about a block later on the way back to the cemetery. Am I

going to do that, too?

You already did, I start to say but I can t because I am laughing again. And shepunches me in the arm fake angry and she is laughing, too.

And then the church bells chime and I sing out see you in school in a high girly voiceand jog back home again.

Chapter 2

Gabby and I are test walking to middle school. Orientation is next week and then weare 6th graders!!! Whoa! We want to get our time down to the minimum so we have asmuch bed time in the mornings as possible. So we are not just strolling here.

I try to tell Gabby about David s new word. Muckster. It sounds like monster, I toellher remembering the squidgeler episode. I tried to think of something else it soundedlike but...

I had to catch my breath because there is no WAY this girl is going to reach the middleschool before me.

I can

t hear you, Gabby says from in front of me.

She turns around. So I do, too. I am very good at walking backwards. Sometimes, Ithink I walk backwards better than forwards. Oops, bump. Except when the sidewalk islumpy.

David, I explain as I swing back to face her. His new word. Muckster.


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Gabby nods. Monster, she says.

I know! I am excited because I already gured that out. That s what I thought butmonster didn t actually make any sense.

He

s three, Gabby says all at. He doesn

t have to make sense.Well, that slowed me down because I have to admit that I sometimes forget that smallerpeople don t always make sense.

Why are you railing about David all the time? Gabby demands. Why don t you likehim? She is facing the right way now and I catch up to her.

I stop. Gabby doesn t. Not like David? Is that what she thought? Because I like David.I like him just ne. I just don t understand him. It bugs me.

I like him ne, I call after Gabby. Now, I have to run to catch up and running was not inour plans for the day. I am not a great runner, sort of short of breath and choppy in thelegs. Clumsy looking, I guess.

Gabby once called my running inelegant. My other friends (Yes, I have other friends!)would say, You look dorky when you run. Or stupid or even goofy. Not Gabby. Sheuses words like rail instead of complain and inelegant instead of dorky.

And don t blame her parents either. Her dad runs a cemetery. He sticks to words likerest and peace and sympathy and sorry-for-your-loss. Her Mom comes from Peru andspeaks English with a thick accent. Gabby s word choice - or vo-CAB-u-la-ry - is

entirely her own.

I like David, I insist when I catch up to her. Honestly. I can feel the urgency that shebelieve me in my vocal cords. It s just... I try to explain.

Yeah, yeah, I know, Gabby sounds annoyed. You don t understand him. And shestretches the word understand out in a whine.

OK, I think in my head - which I guess is where most people think - THIS is not aboutDavid. So for the rst time that morning, I give Gabby a hard look.

Now giving someone a hard look so they don

t notice is hard enough when you aresitting down but when you are race walking it is darn near impossible.

So, brown curly hair - check. Although I have to admit that it looks very shiny and evencurlier than normal and she is wearing one of those headband-y things that girls wear toschool. Hmmm.

Dark eyes - check. I have nothing more to say on the eyes.


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Whoa! That shirt is brand new and it has spangly letters on it.

And the skirt. Man, she looks like an ad from Speckels and Marks department store.

Whoa, I say. You are dressed really nice, today.Gabby stops and swings around to face me so fast I back away. You JUST noticed.she has a dangerous look in her eye.

I know that look. That is a Teen Girl Alert! Hit the Floor! look. I survey the area for ahiding spot.

Um, yeah? I say slowly and I back away just one more tiny little step.

I spent HOURS putting this outt together. HOURS. Gabby ounces - FLOUNCES, I

say - towards the middle school which is looming ever nearer in an Edgar Allan Poekind of way.

Uh, Oh! I think in my head.

Hours? I ask and I try to speak as gently as I can because I have found, with Emma,that that occasionally works. Hardly ever, actually, but it might work with Gabby.

I trail behind her a few steps just in case she also moves with the lightning reexes of aTeen Girl Enraged.

Gabby stops and I stop.

OK, not hours, she says but she still sounds annoyed. Minutes, lots and lots ofminutes. and she starts walking again.

I don t think this time is going to count, I tell her as I catch up. We are going to have tdo this test walk tomorrow.

She keeps walking.

Because we wouldn t be stopping and starting on the way to school, I point out to her.

Drew? Gabby says. Oh this is bad. She is using the fake patient voice. I hate thefake patient voice.

Yes? I reply, trying to sound all fake patient-y, too.

STOP TALKING!! And Gabby turns toward me with her arms straight down by hersides and her hands in sts, and then she stomps off and I don t even bother to follow


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her because THAT is not Gabby. I don t know WHO that girl with the chocolate browneyes and the shiny curly dark hair and the spangly shirt is. I don t.

First, I am shocked. Then I am sad. OK. I am SAD because my best friend justshouted at me to STOP TALKING. But then I see something.

Gabby waves at someone. No, two someones. Susette Michelle - from the library - andAlicia Marris. They look like they ve been waiting for Gabby. Gabby runs to greet them.And then she does something that squeezes my chest. She turns and gives me thatlittle nger wave and small smile of...what? apology?

So, she was going to meet her other friends this whole time and she couldn t bother totell me?

Wait. Wait. OK. I have to sit down here and think about this. No! I don t! Think?Forget about her! She s a mutant. She s become one of those things my Mom and Dad

always talk about from that black and white sci- movie they think is so funny. WORSE.She s a Stepping WIFE or whatever. Except for the being a wife part. Stepford Wife,that s it. And Pod People. She s become a Pod Stepford Teen Girl and I don t think 11is ofcially a Teen even though it is in the double digits.

I take the shortcut to the park. I skirt the cemetery because I don t want to see Gabby sDad because he probably knows about Gabby ditching me for her girl friends.

I am steamed and the best thing to do when you are steamed is violence!l. And I am inluck because Jack and Anwar are on the baseball diamond at the park with a football.Oh, yeah.

I am not good at football. Actually I suck at it. Sorry. I do. Because of the inelegantrunning thing. But I can throw myself on top of people just ne.

We were playing touch, Anwar tells me as he pulls himself off me. I can get attenedextremely well, too. What is with you, man?

Anwar pretty much calls everyone man or dude and sometimes other lesscomplimentary things that I won t put down here in case my Mom reads this. I mean Ialready said suck in here.

ANYWAY. I reply, I don t know, Dude. I just want to play rough. Touch is for girls. Isneer.

Suddenly, my face wants to do things it normally doesn t do. My face wants to sneerand look all sarcastic and my eyebrows want to meet in the middle of my forehead. Iwant to ex my muscles and howl. Lucky for me the feeling fades before I do anythingembarrassing. After all, no one would actually notice that I WAS exing my muscles.


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And, suddenly, I think that I WANT muscles. Yeah. Suddenly, I want to be athletic.Inelegant, huh? I can x that.

Jack is talking. Or rather he stops talking and he and Anwar are looking at me.

What? I say. I am holding the football.

Are you all right? Anwar asks. His Dad is a baby doctor and Anwar is working on hispatient skills, just in case he has to go into the family business.

Yeah, I snort. I toss the football up and catch it - awkwardly but I CATCH it - with myother hand. Why?

Because, Jack says, I asked you if you want to go swimming this after at Patchett s.

Sure, I say. My voice sounds deeper.

Your Mom usually doesn t let you go with us, Anwar reminds me.

So, she doesn t have to know, I say in a careless way.

OK, we all say together and we make plans to meet at Anwar s around 1.

As I walk home, my chest is doing a little squeeze thing. And I wonder, briey, very verybriey, if I should not go to Patchett s because my Mom never lets me go there. Shesays it s dangerous. She is such a...a...GIRL!

Now, a more observant person might ask why my friends asked me to go when myMom never lets me go, but a more observant person doesn t know Jack. Jack is like apuppy. If a puppy nds a treat in the middle of the road, that puppy will check that spotfor the rest of his life, just in case there is another treat there.

Once Jack asked me to do something - ride to the mall or something - that my Momusually said No to and she said Yes! So he asks all the time, just in case, lightning willstrike twice.

But Patchett s is not something my mother will change her mind about. Patchett s is a

pond with lots of water plants in it and, this is the worst/best part depending on yourinclinations, in the shallows there are sometimes leeches.

But there are also lots of frogs and minnows. It s possible to have a great time withoutactually going out into the deep part of the pond. Frogs to catch, minnows to chase -that sort of thing.


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My Mom doesn t care about the leeches, much, or the frogs and minnows, or thecraysh that could take off a toe - or even the snapping turtle that is said to lurk there sowatch your ngers and toes and , ahem, other things . It s the plants she doesn t like.Some kid she knew in school got tangled up in those plants and by the time they pulledher out, she had lost oxygen to her brain or something and now she works sorting

lightbulbs at the Good Will place.So, no, I am not allowed to go there while I still live under my parents roof - unless theygo to. Barf.

But I am going. Huh! I am not David s age anymore. I am no squidgeler, no matterwhat that little....Snap NOSE says.

Chapter 3

Ok, Ok, David has his good points. Like he

s so crazy that my Mom doesn

t even noticeme sneaking a towel out to the garage where my bike is. And when I tell her I m goingover the Anwar s after lunch - which I AM - she just nods because David has managedto open a printer cartridge in the living room.

So I take my bike and in less than fteen minutes, we are there at Patchett s. And it iscool.

Dad brings us out here sometimes, when he s home. He s not home all that muchthese days since his new job makes him travel ALL the time. He does not like the new

job but he has us so... Sometimes Emma and I have deep thoughtful conversations

where we try to nd ways to cut back and conserve but it usually ends up with. We

llget jobs when we re old enough. Emma could babysit if she wasn t so busy helpingMom with David. Who today I am grateful to so enough about him, the little so-and-so.

Alex Rosen and his gang of three are out on the big rock in the middle of the pond. Thewater is too deep to touch the bottom out there and that s where all the tangly waterplants are. I don t plan to go out there but...um, before I know it I am stroking my way tothe rock. It s pretty big. We can sit on one side and act like the 8th graders aren t there.

I know who Alex is because, before he moved, he was at our school and one day whenhe was in fourth grade and I was in second, he bumped into me in the lunch line and I

spilled milk on my shirt. I am sure it was an accident because he was so sorry and hesaid it was. But sometimes, I wonder, just a little, since his friends all thought it was sofunny at the time. Hey, I was 7. It was a long time ago. Pre-David, even.

We cannonball into the water trying to see who can make the biggest splash and then Irealize that not to far away there is another rock just under the surface of the water so Iswim over there and then I stand up and say grandly, I can stand on water! Then I fallbackward where I know there is no rock and splash! I oat on my back.


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The big kids on the rock are laughing and shouting but my ears are under the water andall I hear is glub glub glub. Then something grabs my shoulder and I jerk my legs downand something grabs onto them but it s just weeds and I manage to thrash free. It sAnwar and he s pointing at the shallow end of the pond.

Who does the diaper baby belong to? Alex shouts from the rock and his friends alllaugh and hoot like they have never seen a three-year-old before. Because that s whatAnwar is pointing at. David. In the shallow end of the pond. My brother. In his droopyshorts and a t-shirt that s a little too small. so his round tummy sticks out under it.

How did he get here? I sputter and I am so excited I go under. I am spitting out waterlike a fountain and I splash and thrash myself over to the shallows.

David looks up and gives me his biggest smile. AnROO! He squeals. I ound oo!Anroo. I alted and I alted and I alted. Or ite does pitty ast, Anroo.

He must have the nose of a bloodhound and the stamina of a ...something with a LOTof stamina because Patchet s is a mile, at least, or even TWO miles from our house.

How d?.. I sputter. Are you ok? Is Ralph here? I look behind him down the pathtoward the road. Someone is coming up the path but she is not like anyone I have everseen. She is stunning. I am stunned, anyway.

Oot Anroo, David grabs my hand. Oot. He lets go and crouches down by the pond.Sidgelers. ots an ots a sidgelers.

I look down just to make sure he hasn

t, you know, dropped into the water and I lookback into the smiling face of a girl. Her eyes are large and sort of gold-y brown and herteeth are white and her hair is short and curly all over her head and she s wearing abathing suit and a pair of bike shorts and she has.... a gure. And I can t breathe.

She looks down and giggles. Whose little man are you? She coos to David.

Bless you, David I say in my head.

Um, that s my little brother I say and I am ashamed to admit that I sort of squeak on That s but my recovery is masterful. I think.

Oh, I don t think you should bring your little brother here, she says almost sorrowfully.There are no any guardians fo swimming.

Right, I growl deeply. He followed me... that is...he...

I ottoed Anroo, David crows. I alted and I alted and I alted. Anroo s ite does ..


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Pretty fast, I nish for him. My name is actually Andrew. I tell this beautiful girl.

Oh hi, she says but she is looking past me at the pond. I m Marisol.

Marisol. Oh wow, what a beautiful name. Hopefully I do not say that out loud. Nope,

her face registers nothing but searching-ness.Hey, Mari, big handsome, smart, athletic Alex Rosen calls from the rock. Out here.

Hi Alex, she calls and suddenly I have vanished! Poof! I am no longer there. Neitheris David.

Oh enny sidgelers. I eter ah o enny, David s voice is hushed with awe.

I look down and he s right. The water is teaming with... are those tadpoles?

Ooh, leeches.., I groan.

Come on, David I have to take you home.

So I grab my towel and I walk my bike out of the weeds back to the road. I leave thelaughing, the splashing and the beautiful sun-soaked goddess behind me.

It s hot and balancing a three year old on your bike is hard. I plan to get him off andwalk back to the house well before anyone can see me riding with him on thehandlebars but Mom and Emma are out looking for him.

And Mom sees me.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING???!! It is the anguished shriek of a mother grizzly bear aboutto tear me apart limb from limb.

Readers, you don t want to know the details of the next hour or so. I ended up tellingmy mom everything. She went ballistic. Even though I pointed out to her that I wasn tthe one that let David wander away - that was Dana - and that I sacriced my 6th graderdignity to do the right thing and bring him home - without even wafing on it.

I should hope you brought him home. She huffs. By now, she is a bit winded.

Screaming at the top of your lungs for a very long time will do that to you.

He wouldn t have even been there if you had NOT GONE THERE. Oops sounds likeshe got her second wind.

So now I am in my room for the duration of the summer. Dad comes home tomorrow sothere is a little bit of hope. At the same time, I could be in deeper trouble - I was goingto say water but I am thinking that isn t advisable at this time - when he gets here.


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Oh sigh. And then I remember Marisol. Now, there is a girl... Deep. deep sigh.

It

s hard to be in solitary connement when the world is still wildly turning. I stand at mywindow wondering just who Marisol is. Did she have a slight accent? Dana has beengiven David watch for the rest of the day and she is yelling. So, I let my gaze wanderover to the fort/playhouse Dad built for Emma and me years ago. I am surprised that itis still standing.

Is that David on the roof? Yep. No wonder Dana is having a seizure.

I watch and I can feel my mouth drop as David launches himself off the playhouse roofinto....I have to maneuver myself to see what David expects will catch him.

Oh, David, no, I groan as he lands on one of Mom

s sheets and rips the laundry lineright off the post. His wails overpower Dana s yelling. Wait. Dana isn t yellinganymore. I hear footsteps pounding up the stairs and down the hall and up the atticstairs to the room that the girls share.

Tsk, tsk, tsk, I think. She s going to get it. Twice in one day. I don t even screw up thatbad.

I can hear David s sobbing get closer up the stairs and into his room next door.

Stay there, my mother orders and she shuts the door.

David will stay there. I know this because he s good at taking orders. It s just that hethinks of things to do that no one would ever imagine he would try so you can t tell himnot to do them.

Mom heads up the stairs. I hear her voice rattle on for awhile and then after a pauseshe says something else and then I hear more footsteps. They stop outside my door.

Mom knocks. I open. That s how it works in this house.

David, Mom asks, her voice full of girders. Did you tell Dana you would watch David

for her just now?

Dana is behind my mother making please, please faces, her hands clasped in front ofher like a beggar in a blizzard.

I don t answer right away but my mother isn t nished.

And did you tell her you would watch David after lunch today?


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Huh!!!??? Oh, yeah, Dana, you are going down.

Mom, I say in all sincerity. I haven t talked to Dana since breakfast.

Mom studies my face but, she can tell that mine is the very image of truth.Dana races back upstairs - Dope, I would have headed outside and out of sight. Momreaches in and shuts my door without another word.

I am allowed to eat with the other inmates so I am there when Dad calls. He s notcoming home. The customer wants him to stay and work out some problems. He ll behome soon - before school starts. He promises. It s just some stupid glitch.

Mom is upset. It

s not just that she

s here with the ve of us every day all day. It

s thatshe and my Dad really like each other.

Man, says Ralph and he spears some broccoli and icks it back on his plate. Man!Ralph is upset, too.

Emma snaps. Eat that. Don t play with it.

Mom doesn t even scold her.

I m disappointed, too. But we don t make plans for the rst couple of days that Dad s

home anyway. And the longer he

s gone, the more likely it is that he won

t skin me alivewhich is just a gure of speech because my parents aren t big into corporal punishment.

Which is good because David is a walking advertisement for abused kids. He has abruise coming up on his forehead where he hit the laundry support line holder-upper-thing on his way down.

I uz artan the ukle an. He tells me later as I help him with his bath. Mom wants me todo more chores so Emma gets a night off from bath duty.

Poor little Snapnose. He really did a number on his knees, too.

Tarzan the Monkey Man. I correct him. I am nally catching on to Davidspeak

Ep. he says in agreement. Artman the Uncle Man, innin ith a rotter and.

I have to laugh. Where does he come up with these things?

No, no, I say, laughing. It s Tarzan the Monkey Man, SWINGING on a rubber band.


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Ep. David agrees cheerily. He s standing in the tub now and I am immediately on thealert for slippery eel behavior. Artman the Uncle Man SWINGING with a rubber band.And then he yodels a Tarzan yell that would bring the apes down from the trees.

Hey, hey, I laugh and I grab for him, just in case he slips which he almost does.Isn t he clean yet? That s Dana. I want to use the bathroom.

Use Mom and Dad s. I am not really talking to the little witch right now.

Can t. Emma s in there.

Oh, too bad. I say and I sound like I mean, oh goody!

Yeah, too bad for you, Dana hisses through the keyhole. YOU were already in

trouble. Why

d you have to get me in trouble, too?

Hey, reality check, sister. I snap. But before I can read her the riot act I catch somemovement behind me and turn just in time to stop David - by catching him in my armsand tumbling into the bathtub - from jumping from the toilet tank into the water.

Luckily neither of our heads make contact with the tub or wall but David keeps shouting. Gain! gain! as I wrap him in a towel and hustle him into his bedroom dripping waterall down the hall. I snatch the last dry towel from the towel rack to clean up after myself.

Oh, Thanks Andrew, Dana shrieks. Thanks for leaving the bathroom a frigging mess.

Ralph is in the bedroom lying across his bed. He s paging through the SuperMousecomic book Dad brought home last time. Not reading, just ipping through the pages.

Dad s job sucks, he mutters.

What? I am mildly shocked.

You heard me. Ralph snarls. Ralph is a guy s guy kind of kid. He s tough and speedyand strong. When Ralph runs, you wonder where the breeze came from and how Ralphgot all the way over there.

He s coming home. I tell him, that urgency to be believed making my throat ache.You know he is.

Yeahh. Ralph nods. But I miss him a lot.

Oh, and the rest of us don t give a rat s ass about him, I guess. I say forgetting whoelse is in the room.


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at s Ass, David sings out, clear as a bell.

You don t play football, Ralph says as if that explains everything.

I do, too1 I am wounded by his dismissal of my athletic prowess. I am four yearsolder than this guy. Where does he get off?

I played today. This morning. I tell him as I wrestle David into his pjs and he sings outat s Ass! at s Ass!

Shhh, I scold him. Don t say that.

What s a stupid glitch anyway? Ralph demands.

A glitch is a problem, something that needs to be xed.

Like someone messed up, Ralph grunts.

Right. And Dad s job is to make sure the installation is exactly the way the customerwants it before he can leave.

I have no idea what an installment is but Dad talks about installations all the time. Itinvolves computers I think and software and ... technical stuff.

David is clean and dry and in his summer pjs and Mom comes in and kisses me on thehead.

Thanks, Andrew, she says. You have had a long day.

I guess she forgives me, a little. She doesn t look at me, though, and I know she s stillmad at me and disappointed about Dad.

Then she swoops David up. Come on big boy let s get a little snack and brush thoseteeth.

at s Ass! David crows.

Nope, cookies. Mom giggles. She mouths What

s he saying? to Ralph and me.

I am very grateful that for once she doesn t know what David is saying.

I look at Ralph. He tries not to look at me because he wants to stay mad but he can thelp it and we collapse onto his bed laughing and saying Rat s Ass over and over againuntil we can t speak.


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Look, I say to Ralph. I can t go anywhere anyway. Tomorrow, we can toss the oldball around. and I give him a manly punch to the shoulder. Maybe you can teach mesomething because we both know I suck at football.

Ok. He says and he smiles. I prob ly should get ready for bed. He says.

Yeah, I say, I didn t see any cookies in the kitchen earlier. I gotta check those out.

So, the next day, Ralph and I are tossing the ball around in the back yard and Ralph isshowing me how to hold the ball and cock my arm and follow through. I am amazedthat he knows all this stuff. I am four years older than .. oh wait I already said that.

And Mom, drops David off in the yard and says. Keep an eye on him. She is lookingat ME but she sweeps her eyes over to Ralph so he knows he s my back up.

We give the ball to David and we chase him all over the yard, almost but never quitecatching him and he is shrieking and giggling like a little end. And the more he laughs,the more Ralph and I laugh and the more we laugh the harder it is for me to breathe so Inally have to op down on the grass.

You re out of shape, Big, Ralph says to me. That is his new nickname for me. Big forBig brother, he assures me not for big tub o lard. Because I am slow and clumsy but Iam not fat.

Yeah, I gasp.

Ralph is into nicknames. He wants one really bad. But all the nicknames we come upwith for him, he thinks are dorky. I want to call him Rafe because I read this book -awesome book - where this kid s evil uncle Ralph pronounces his name Rafe. Emmawants to call Ralph Red except his hair is the color of straw. But Emma pointed out thatRalph s favorite color is red. Makes sense, then, I guess.

Dana had no ideas because Dana thinks the entire family is lame. And she is only 9, sothe next few years look painful from here.

David calls Ralph Alpha.

Alpha is a cool nickname, I point out as David grabs the ball from Ralph and runsaway shouting. At me, Alpha. At me Anroo.

I always thought David actually meant, At Me , but now I think he s really trying to sayCatch me. and something nudges my brain ever so slightly.


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Before I can follow the brain nudge - It was probably a bad idea anyway - Emma handsthe phone out the door.

It s Gabby, she says and almost drops the phone in her hurry to return to the veryimportant business of being a Teen Girl.

Hi, Gab, I say as Ralph sweeps David up and shouts Touchdown!

Oh hi Andrew, Gabby says and I wonder if she thinks I called her.

Yeah, I say brightly all smiles, Hi!

Yeah, Gabby says. This conversation is riveting so far.

About yesterday, Gabby says. I m really sorry....

I won t bore you with the rest of her apology but it was all about how things changewhen you get to middle school, blah, blah, blah.. and she is a girl...

Oh Really? I say humorously.

But she has an agenda for this call and she just plows on.

I look around the yard. Where s Ralph? Where s David? I have a strange feeling.

It s just that Middle School is different, Andrew. Gabby is all earnest. I step into the

yard and I see Ralph face down under the clothes line.

I run over to him and he s breathing but he s holding his head.

What happened? I ask him

Nothing, really, Gabby says into my ear. She sounds a little annoyed. I just want tohave a good Middle school experience.

What??!! Ok, who talks like that? Middle school experience! Ralph rolls over.

I ran into the pole. David had his hands over my eyes.

Ok. I say to Ralph.

Good , I hear Gabby say and I realize I have no idea what she thinks I said ok to.

It s just that I want to start the year with friends, she says. You need friends in middleschool.


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I straighten up. Ralph is forgotten.

I say, You mean Friends besides me? I force myself to ask the next part. Or do youmean you and I aren t friends...?

I KNEW you wouldn t understand, Gabby shouts into the phone. Why do I even talkto you? The phone goes dead.

I help Ralph up and he can only see two of my ngers - which is good because that s allI am holding up. And he can walk a straight line, sort of. Then I ask him the all-important question.

Where did David go?

He points inside, but before I can go in the back door, I hear David s voice from the front

of the house.

My amp machine! He s shouting. My amp machine.

I get to the driveway in time to see him tug a sofa cushion onto the macadam and jumpon it. My amp machine he sings and he bounces.

No, David, I holler and I race over to grab him just as he throws himself backward andcracks his head on the driveway.

Owwwww! David howls!

Ouch! I grimace.

Ralph mutters, That s got to hurt.

I grab David He s ailing his arms around. Poor little kid.

Get the cushion back inside, I hiss to Ralph and he grabs the cushion and runs inside.

Mom comes around the corner just then from the backyard. She sees Ralph as hedisappears through the door.

Was that my sofa cushion? she asks but David is reaching for her.

He fell backward. I explain to my Mom. He thinks he s an acrobat.

Oh, poor Davie. Mom coos. Let s get some ice on that.


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She give me the evil eye. That better not have been one of my sofa cushions. shesnaps.

I follow her inside and when she goes into the kitchen I run over to where Ralph issitting on the living room sofa and together we examine the cushion. It doesn t look

much worse for wear.Ralph, I say soberly. We have a problem.

Ralph has a goose egg on his forehead.

Oops, you need ice, too. I say and I lead him into the kitchen and take the tray thatmom has out on the counter.

What happened to Ralph? Mom demands. Honestly, Andrew.

It was a David thing, Ralph starts.

Oh, right, a three year old gave you that bump. Mom counters.

No, I step in for Ralph because he will clam up. Ralph was giving David a horseyback ride and David covered Ralph s eyes and Ralph ran into the clothes pole.

Yeah, Ralph chimes in and then David ran inside and...

Came out the front and was trying to do acrobatic tricks when he fell backwards on thedriveway. I nudge Ralph and he nods.

Right, he says. He thinks he s like steel or something.

You do, don t you? Mom looks David in the face. David, you are going to hurtyourself or some one else.

He already did, I protest and I point to poor Ralph because his forehead is turning redand purple.

Ralph, if someone covers your eyes, stop running, Mom says with uncharacteristiclack of understanding. I mean Ralph is hardly that much older than David. Ok, he s

four years older than David but still...

But then she turns around and scolds David. David, you made Ralphie hurt himself.Say Sorry.

David s mouth turns down. His eyes get all big and sad. He leans down from Mom sarms and kisses Ralph on the head.


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Sarty, Alpha, he says. I sarty you hurt your head.

It s Ok, bruiser, Ralph says. He pats David s face.

Mom takes David out of the kitchen. Ralph and I look at each other.

You are so right, Ralph says. We have a big problem.

That night, I am reviewing what feels like the longest day in my life when David wandersin. He climbs up on my bed and jumps up and down but stops after a bounce or two. Ithink his head probably still hurts.

addy s not coming home, David tells me. He sits there, his chubby legs danglingand his eyes get all sad and big. All tuz udda stupid blitch.

I am reaching for my camera because when he makes those big, sad eyes he is themost adorable thing outside of a new born puppy I have ever seen. I think, I need a t-shirt with that face on it. Marisol will swoon when she sees it. But then, David sayswhat he says about the stupid blitch and I almost choke.

What did you say? I ask. I am louder than I need to be.

A stupid blitch mading addy not come home, David gives out a big big sigh for such alittle boy.

G...g...g..glitch I say. Not blitch. Gg..litch.

Stupid b...b...blitch, David says softly.

I kneel down in front of him and I make him look at me. David, say guh .

David watches my mouth. He says Uh!

I get a little closer. I know David can make this sound. Guh! I say again emphasizingthe hard g sound.

David nods and repeats, Guh! He looks less sad, as if he wants to see where this

game is going.

G...ood! I say making sure he catches the hard G sound. Now say Guh..litch.

But David is sad again. Stupid blitch, he mutters and he slips off the bed and walksslowly out of the room. and I don t even have a picture of his cute little sad face to reelin the hottest girl in Central Niskie Middle School.


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OK. Get this. Sit down because you will not believe this. Are you sitting down?

Marisol is Gabby s cousin. Yeah. You heard. me. Marisol is living in Gabby s house.And that day? That day, you remember, when Gabby got all dressed up to meet her girl

friends. Marisol had already been at Gabby

s house for TWO WHOLE days.You think you know someone and then....

I found this out on the rst day of school. I called Gabby to see if we were going to walktogether and she was evasive. It s a vocab word. It means, she wouldn t come right outand say no. She said my Mom wants to drive me the rst week of school. She said, She thinks it s time for me to be more ladylike.

Puke and barf. But, you know what? It s ne, really. I don t want to spend all my dayshanging out with a girl anyway. She s a girl. I m a boy. I knew this would happen. Um,

well, no, I actually didn

t. I actually thought that Gabby and I were too smart for all thatcrap.

Because I think it s crap. Girls are crazy.. nuts. Do you ever listen to them talking abouthandbags??? Emma can talk for a whole hour about one, stupid little handbag. Guysdon t do that. Guys do NOT waste their time on useless things like handbags.

Jack is so proud of himself. I got to Level 6A on Whompers! he is strutting along likea rap star or a receiver in the end zone.

Oh yeah! he sings. Uh Huh!

Then he and Anwar give me a play-by-play description of the whole frigging game. As ifI am all that interested since I was playing David watcher at the time.

Dad came home two night ago and he doesn t have another assignment for threeweeks. So, Emma and I have been watching the kids so my parents can ...never mind.You do NOT want to know.

I actually slump with embarrassment when I think of it in the middle of Anwar sdescription of the battle in which he almost snatched victory out of Jack s hands.

But no you di - int! Jack is dancing backwards and I hope he stumbles over thepavement. He doesn t. No, you di-int! You did NOT!

We are almost to the front of the school and the sidewalk s getting crowded. Kids areyelling Hi! to each other and some are running to greet each other. And the busmonitor is yelling No running!


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Which makes the kids who are running go all stiff legged as if it s not running if yourknees don t bend.

On the steps, I see Susette and Alicia. They are watching for someone.

Then Gabby

s mother

s car drives up and Gabby hops out. It just so happens thatI amright beside the car.

Gabby s mother calls, Hi! Andrew. Gabby said you wanted to walk to school today.

Oh, hi! Mrs. Malantoniao, I say. Yep. Gotta get in shape for the season! As if thatmakes any sense.

And I give Gabby a cold glance.

And then, from the back seat, she steps, all curves and curls. And I imagine every boy

on the campus feels a pull. I imagine every head swings to watch her reach back intothe car to pull out .... the cutest little hand bag that I ever saw! No, I mean herbackpack. A normal ordinary backpack.

Oh, I say and my surprise is not fake. Hi, Marisol.

She smiles at me, Hi, she says, Andrew, right? And she seems so normal, a littlenervous at this new school. So, how s your little brother?

He s ne. I say. Cute as ever.

You know each other? Gabby asks. You know my cousin, Marisol? She ismystied, I think.

Yeah, Marisol and I answer together and then we laugh together. Like old friends, sortof.

Yeah, I nod. We met last week. On the day I got grounded.

Marisol says, Oops! and giggles again.

You got grounded? Gabby asks. She is not only mystied, she is irate.

Yeah, Marisol says with a sigh. I think I know why.

I nod.

Fascinating! Gabby says. She takes Marisol by the elbow. Just fascinating. Shewalks away and she looks back at me with ice and re in her eyes.


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It feels good. Until I walk right into Jack who is frozen on the stairway.

Who is that? Anwar breathes, his head is twisted to watch Gabby and Marisol walkinto the school. Susette and Alicia crowd after them.

I snort. It

s Gabby, I say as if they really ought to know that. And her cousin Marisol.Come on. We re going to be late.

And then Middle School came down on us like night on the desert, like a load of brickson an ant, like an asteroid destroying thousands of acres of forest in Siberia. Dark andhard. Very, very hard.

If you want to hear about the embarrassing things that happen to sixth graders on theirrst day of school, read some other story. I will try to forget this day, blot it from mymemory. Those books make the rst day of middle school look like it s almost fun forsome sixth graders. But even Evan Wright, macho man and cool dude, had a run-in

with some 7th grader bent on revenging that 7th grader

s own miserable rst 6th gradeday by paying it forward to Evan. I saw Evan and I know that 7th grader has lived toregret his little mistake. Still, Evan did not look happy.

So, don t expect stories about the Spanish teacher, Senora Fitzgerald or the math nerdfrom hot places, Dr. (yes, I said Doctor,) Esposito. The gym teacher, the Language Artsteacher, the smell in the cafeteria, blah, blah, blah, blah. Oh and the upper gradebullies and pranksters and the lockers and the hallways, all those hallways.

Like my Aunt Sylvie s husband, Uncle Gren likes to say What doesn t kill you, makeslife a whole lot longer. He s a philosopher, my Uncle Gren.

I will tell you that I had almost ALL my classes with Gabby and she said three words tome but not in a row. I think they were, Hi! You and oh. which told me exactly whatI needed to know. ??!!! WTH! I am thinking those three letters, or letters very similar tothem, a LOT on this NOW the longest day of my life.

Good thing about the rst day of middle school? I missed the excitement at home withDavid - and Mom - AND Dad.

When I get home, Emma has David on his leash in the front yard. You read that right.We used to put David on a leash all the time when we went places because he pullsaway from us when we hold his hands. The leash is an old-fashioned one like alightweight vest. It zippers up the back. Wristband leashes were too easy for David toundo, zip - he s gone! There are newer leashes that open in front. Excuse me! If he


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was the kind of kid who would leave a vest unopened he wouldn t need a leash. WhenMom found this leash at Gran s, it was a sign.

Since then we ve managed to keep David with the family. And our last two vacationswere not spent looking for David.

But now that David is three, we try NOT to put him on the leash.

Emma is sitting on the front steps with the leash wrapped around her legs. She istexting or searching or something on her smart phone, which she paid for with birthdayand Christmas money.

David is pretending to be a draft horse and he is trying to pull Emma off the porch. Theleash looks like it will cut all circulation off in her legs. But every now and then shegives in and David tumbles forward and she wraps the leash a different way.

Emma isn

t big. So she must be working to resist David.

I walk by Emma and I asy, Leash, hhuh?

Emma mutters, You don t want to know. without even looking at me.

Emma goes to Frazer Academy - full scholarship - fancy private girls school. Theyhave what is called a exible schedule, which I think means Mom can keep Emmahome when she needs her for Ralph and David watching. Whatever. Emma is smart,for a girl, except when it comes to handbags and squeal adorable shoes!!!

Don

t go in there, Emma warns me.

I drop my hand from the door handle and I walk down the steps. I start for the backyard.

No, Emma says, I mean it. She holds up her phone.Don t...Go....In....The....House...

I take the phone. The pictures tell a story of devastation...Every condiment possible hasbeen poured out over the kitchen counters. Bread, cheese, hot dogs...the refrigerator isopen.

He made his own lunch, Emma moves forward and David tumbles into the grass. Heis oddly and eerily silent as he pulls.The next picture is of his bed. It is broken. The mattress lies between the headboardand footboard at a drunken slant.

He put himself down for a nap. Emma sighs.


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The last picture is of the hallway and the stairs. Small footprints, small catsup +mustard + peanut butter+ jelly footprints go up the steps and littel messy handprints dotthe wall and I can see the bathroom door open and there is a lot of toilet paper.

He cleaned himself up. Emma sighs.

I am stunned. This is David. NO ONE in their right minds would leave David alone forany length of time - EVER.

I look at Emma and she turns and looks me in the eye. They were together. she saysin the same ominous montone.

David turns and looks at me. He has tears in his eyes. He s been crying this whole time.

I look at Emma. She looks at me. She has tears in her eyes, too.

What happened? I gasp. And my knees buckle and I collapse on the porch besideher. And David runs up and buries his head in my lap and howls.

Dad comes out the front door carrying two huge garbage bags. He steps over us as ifwe are trafc cones or bushes. He goes around the side of the house.

Mom calls something that sounds angry and Dad growls something back.

My mouth has fallen oepn. David has climbed into my lap and Emma is stroking his sadlittle head as I rock him back and forth.

Fighting? I whisper ins total shock. And my heart stops and my chest squeezesharder than ever when Emma nods back.

David is soooo bad, David moans. Bad David, he slaps himself on his chubby littlethigh.

No, I take his hand. David is little, not bad.

He howls again and throws his head onto my shoulder with a bonk. It hurts and I give alaugh of surprise.

Emma looks over at me as I rub my shoulder and rock David and she giggles.

Why? I ask my big sister. I want to howl, too.

OK. I know that parents ght. I mean, kids talk about it and I have actually read booksabout it. BUt I don t ever remember my parents actually engaged in loud voices to one


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another. Hard to believe but they don t spend that much time together. Like I said myDad works out of town - a lot.

I remember some tense not-looking-at-each-other moments but they were alwaysfollowed by, May I talk to you in the bedroom? breaks and then, things gradually got

better. But not for a couple of years, now. They have been happy, I hthink, since David.Emma shook her head. I don t know. she sighed. She sounds as lost and sad andyoung as I felt. I got home and they were in the garage shouting at each other and Iwent in and this is what I found. She ips open her phone again.

David was in the bedroom, hiding. I think he knew he was in trouble.

I look at a few more photos. It is like looking at crime scene photos. I shake my head.What were they yelling about? I ask.

I don

t know, Emma shrugs.

I know, David snifed. They s elling dout a stupid blitch. Stu (hic) pid blitch.

Dad is there, suddenly and looming. Where did he learn that word? he hisses at me.

I must look clueless because he makes a growling noise and stomps into the houseagain.

What word? I whisper to Emma.

She shrugs again. David has thrown his arms around my neck and he hides his facewhen Mom comes out.

She looks at the three of us, huddled there like war orphans and her mouth tweaks in asmile.

David baadd, David wails.

Mom picks him up and kisses him. No, David. You are not bad. Mom and Dad arebad, today. We are so sorry. She rocks David back and forth and back and forth.

David was trying to be a big boy, Mom explains to Emma and me. he tried to makehis own lunch. Didn t you, sweetie? She gives him a littel kiss and his thumb creepsinto his mouth.

He tried to clean himself up. Mom looks like she might start crying.

But then he jumped on the bed. That wasn;t such a good thing. Mom is crying.


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Emma stands up.

Mom, she says all business like. Give me twenty dollars. Andrew and I are going downto Mama Tia s to get some Mexican pizzas for supper.

Yeah, I say. My older sister is a genius. David needs a nap. I think. I reach up andkiss David, too. His eyes are drooping.

And we don t really want Dana and Ralph to walk into this mess, do we? Emma addswith just a touch of uncertainty.

Mom looks as stunned as I feel. BUt she reaches into her pocket and pulls out somecash. Then she looks at the two of us.

I honestly don t know what happened today. she says very quietly. But thank God forthe two of you.

Get some iced tea and that juice stuff Ralph likes. she says and tell Tia I ll pay her ifthere s not enough oney there.

Emma grabs me and we race walk around the corner.

OK, she hisses to me. Where did David learn that word?

What word? I am panting here. Don t they get it? I don t run!!!

The bword that rhymes with witch. Emma shouts. That s what started this.

You said you didn t know, I shout back. What started I mean.

I didn t she screams But David did. Where did hehear the word bitch?

I grab the money from Emma. Not from me, I growl at her.

I race to Mama Tia s and by the time Emma catches up to me, I have already pantedout the order and I am leaning against the refrigerator trying to catch my breath.

Emma shakes her head at me and we collaps in the charis at one of the tables.

That was the most awfula fternoon of my life, she admitted to me.

I snatch her phone and scroll through the photos again. I keep shaking my head indisbelief at each one.


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They were screaming at each other in the garage. Poor David was in the closet. Dadsaid something about Mom losing all her control over us. Mom screamed back abouthim and... Emma s eyes ll with tears... and his client? Daisy Winters??

Winters is a girl, a woman??I ask. So waht? I say after a moment or two of silenece.

David keeps saying stupid bitch Emma insisted.

I stare into space and I hear David s voice in my bedroom.

No, I almost shout and then I tell Emma in a reasonable voice. He is saying stupidblitch b-l-itch.

Sje stares at me like I m talking urdu which I m not even sure is a real word, let alone alanguage.

Mom said dad coudln

t come home because of a stupid g-litch. I pronounce the gclearly. David can t say that. He says blitch.

Emm doesn t believe me.

I tried to get him to say g - litch. I explain, But every time I said glitch he got sad andsaid stupid blitch again. I have to smile. I just thought it was funny.

Emma isn t smiling. Dad didn t think it was funny at all.

Now I am totally confused. Why would Dad care that much about David saying a word

he shouldn

t say. I mean, David is three. Three year olds say all kinds of stupid stuff.Why doesn t Dad just laugh at David and tell him not to say that silly word any more, likehe did when David liked saying tire f--- for re truck? I mean, it s just a word.

Grown-ups! I look up and see Alex Rosen walking by across the street and he s withMarisol. I shake my head. Grown-ups! Girls! Glitches! Right now, I don t like the letterG very much at all.

I glare out the window and then I see them - Gabby, Susette and Alicia about a half ablock behind the love birds. They are stopping by shop windows and being all girly andgiggly. Who are you? I think in my head. I feel my eyes narrow. What have you done

with my friend, Gabby?

Emma must notice my Look of Great Dislike because she swivels around to look out theplate of glass.Oh she groans. She is looking at Alex and Marisol. Thank the Good Lord above, I go toFrazer. She watches them for awhile and something must happen because she clucksher tongue and says. That poor girl needs to transfer to Frazer.


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But I am watching Gabby. She points at something in a window and then at her wrist.Then she pretends to study something on her wrist, like she s modeling whatever!Gabby? I almost moan. I rub my eyes.

Emma catches sight of Gabby, too.

Is that Gabby? With airhead Alicia? the shock in her voice resonates like a gong inmy chest.

She watches for a few seconds and swings back to me. We have to save her, Drew,she hisses. Before the mind suckers catch her. We have to get her into Frazer.

She has my hand in an iron grasp. I shake her off. It s just Gabby, I growl. She hasto get in touch with her feminine side. My eyes stray to the sidewalk again. I guess.

Besides, I chide. Frazer hasn t kept you from squealing over designer - and here I

do the hated air scratch - jeans and boy bands.

Emma rolls her eyes. One, she says, I do not squeal. Two, I am so over boy bands.Three, that s not what I m worried about. She is trailing that dill weed Rosen. All threeof them are.

Oh? my little brain whispers. Interesting, my brain continues. Interesting that Emmathinks Alex Rosen, who I remember as being her very good frind a year or two ago isa ....dillweed? Isn t dill something you put in pickles?

But for the moment, my brain and mouth show Great Maturity and say nothing. Gabby

is not trailing after Rosen, I scoff to myself - in my head. She is keeping an eye on hercousin, who IS under Rosen s spell. I hope. That s what Gabby is doing with herfriends. Yep.

Ohhhh. I hate middle school.

The house is amazingly clean when we get home with the pizzas. Ralph and Dana bothhave after-school scouts so it almost supper time when they come in to a cheery houseand kitchen and parents who practically blind us all with their good humor and love foreach other.

David is a little quiet, having had a late and shortened nap. BUt better he be awakeNOW than at 11 pm, right?

Ralph is thrilled that we are having pizza and can t wait for Dana to nsih saying Gracebefore he grabs the biggest piece.

Dana, however, is not clueless. She is suspicious.


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So, Mexican pizza? she asks in a light carefully carefree manner. What s theoccasion? She sounds like someone on a Lifetime Movie - which I know she watcheswhenever she can get away with it. Wjhat s the occasion? What nine year old talkslike that?

Dad laughs. Do I detect a strain in his laugh? Actually I don

t. He probably just thinksDana is the cutest 9 going on 29 year old he knows.

No occasion, he says kissing her on the top of her head. We had a David-tastropheand had to spend the afternoon cleaning up.

The TRUTH???!!! I look over at Emma but she is busy cutting David s pizza intosmaller pieces so he can t wear it on his head or ing like a frisbee. He can do that withthe smaller pieces of course, but this minimizes the impact of those actions.

My father is a genius. The TRUTH! I le this tactic away for further reference in my

own dealings. He cleverely gave Dana just enough real live actual fact-like Truth tosatisfy her.

And it works! Dana gives a huge exasperated sigh, as if to say, my family is made of uplosers and geeks. Then she bites into her pizza. A second later she leans over andpats David s little hand.

Keep up the good work, she fake whispers. I LOVE Mexican pizza.

We laugh. Even Emma laughs. In fact, Emma and I laugh hardest of all. ONly Ralphlooks a little confused. But after a second he s whooping it up, too.

We re back! Catastrophe avoided, thanks to a hurricane named david.

So, Emma is back on bath time and I am washing dishes - what few there are - withDad and he says. So, I hear you re going out for a team this year? What are youtrying out for? Football? He sounds so happily surprised that his rst son would beinterested in sports. Nothing could be further from the truth but I don t want to burst hisbubble. He s had a bad day.

Um, it was going to be a surprise, I fumble.

Yeah, Gabby

s Mom, Mrs. Malantonio, called suggesting that we start a Walking SchoolBus and she said you gave her the idea when you said you were getting in shape forthe season? He looks at me with questioning eyebrows.Yeah, l give a carefree laugh - I hope, The season... of Fall. I nudge my Dad withmy elbow and wink. Get it? There, that s a little bit of truth. Will he take it?

His smile dims. Oh. He puts away the glass he is drying. Not ready to open up toyour old man, huh?


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I sigh - in my head. I guess I never realized what a disappointment a slow running,clumsy son could be to a Dad like mine. He played baseball through college and lots ofother sports for fun. I just don t do that. I mean, I m slow...and clumsy... and it s not funfor me.

Dad, I say, What if I don t make the team? Huh! My brain is surprised at my mouth.But my mouth keeps going. I ll be disappointed. YOU ll be disappointed.

I pay very close attention to scrubbing down the pitcher we used at supper. My brainasks me, OK, smart mouth. Now what do you say?

But, I will tell you this. I smile a sneaky smile. It has to be football or fall soccer,because I HATE basketball and I can t skate. I look at Dad sideways and he laughsand I laugh. And my brain jumps up and down in panic.

So, he asks me if I want to throw the old ball around after we do the dishes and I say,Sure! like it s the thing I most want to do that night.

And thanks to Ralph s coaching the week before, I am not as hopeless as I usually am.And then Ralph comes out and we are doing something called running patterns. And Igradually slide away inside because Ralph is so much better at this than I am. AND Iam so tired. It takes me a few minutes to get my breath back. But my brain is spinningand I wonder if, maybe, I should try out for football. I mean, girls like guys who dosports, right?

I remember Marisol giggling with me that morning. Rosen plays tennis and swims.

Those are not huge jock-like manly sports like football. Even soccer sounds more jock-like than swimming. It would be nice to have Marisol giggling with me more often. Itwould be even nicer if she was giggling with ME instead of Mr. Handsome, Smart andCool Alex Rosen.

I open up my backpack and start my reading assignment for English and I do not evenwonder what in the world a Walking School Bus is.

This is what a Walking School Bus is. Mrs. Malantonio called all the parents on thestreet and suggested that we kids walk to school together every morning. She is a big

fan of Mrs. Obama and her ght against childhood obesity and the campaign to get kidsto exercise more.

If we all walk to school and the parents hang together about this - and we all walk backeach afternoon the whole street of kids will be healthier. Not to mention bowed downunder the weight of our backpacks.


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She even recruited parents to monitor the Walking School Bus for the rst two weeksof school.

So Gabby is furious with ME because her mother came up with this idea. I give up.

Oh yeah, Fisher. I am actually hurt. She

s never called me by my last name before.Getting in shape for the season, huh?

What? I snap back. You want me to tell your mother that you lied to her? Is thatwhat you want? Gabby huffs and walks faster.

Because I can do that I call after her as she pulls away.

Marisol looks at me in a confused way and hurries to walk with Gabby, leaving me inlast place, again. And, you know what, I don t even care? I don t even care if I miss thelast bell and get a detention and have to stay after school. Because then I won t have to

walk home with Gabrielle Malan - snot -io.

Jack and Anwar slow down so I can catch up with them. Well, now I know who myfriends are. I start asking them about trying out for the JV team. Jack is psyched butAnwar is not so sure. So we talk sports stuff all the way into homeroom. And I don teven look at Gabby for the rest of the day.

There is Good News and Bad News on the football front. The Good News is that thetry-outs all took place before school started. The Bad News is that the try-outs all took

place before school started. So, I can not try out.... See? This is good. I don

t reallywant to humiliate myself by pretending to know even a little about football. But this isBAD, as in what do I tell my Dad?

So, after gym class, I ask the gym teacher, Mr. Wetherston, who is also the footballcoach. So, I guess I can t try out for football, right?

Mr Wetherston shakes his head. All this information went home in August, Fisher. Ifyou were interested you should have come out two weeks ago.

I didn t even know I was interested, I sort of mumble.

You d get squashed anyway, Mr. Wetherston says, matter-of-factedly. I saw you runin gym just now. You wouldn t have made the team.

My brains and I are both surprised to notice that we, I mean I, am actually disappointed.I even slump. I wasn t really trying just now, I tell him which is true but only because Inever really try in gym.


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Yeah, well, I expect my students to try, even in gym, Mr. Wetherston is stickingsomething on the bulletin board outside the gym. IT is the roster for the 8th grade team.I look and Alex Rosen is playing football this season.

Rpsen! I squeak. I didn t know he played football.

Second year, Wetherston says in a satised voice. I got him to sign on last yearwhen my QB got injured.

Suddenly, my brain decides that it is a Good thing that I am not able to try out forfootball. For two reasons. One, I am not even sure what a QB is for certain. I meanwhat if it doesn t stand for quarterback. I would look like a total dork beside beingwimpy. Two, I don t like the word injured, at all.

But, hey, Mr. Wetherston smiles at me, You could manage the team. You know, getwater and towels and stuff.

I am not so sure that Dad would be all happy about that. Oh yeah, that s my son, thewater boy.

Or you could sign up for intramurals, Wetherston continues. It s good exercise andthere s not a lot of pressure.

Intramurals! Now, there s an idea. Except, playing intramurals does not have the chickmagnetization of actually being on the team. But then again, neither does being a teammanager. So which will it be? Intramurals with other non-jocks, like me? Or water boyso I can hang around with Alex Rosen and his gang and scurry after them with towels

and water bottles and ace bandages? So many juicy choices! Hmmm.

Um, are there any other teams, I can try out for? I ask.

Mr. Wetherston looks at me and smiles in a kindly way. Chess? he suggests. Thenhe goes into his ofce and I slouch off to lunch.

I don t say much at lunch. The other guys, Jack and Anwar and Travis and Morry are alltalking about some show I m not allowed to watch and I can see Marisol sitting withRosen and Gabby and a couple of jock types - oh and Susette and Alicia. Rosen puts

his arm around Marisol and gabby gives him a dirty look and then, Marisol shrugs alittle. It s like watching a soap opera on the Spanish channel. I m mesmerized but Ihave NO IDEA what is going on.

Jack waves his hand in front of my face. I said want to play touch after? he says.

Are we allowed to miss the Walking School BUs? I snarl. Walking School BUs.


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Jack nods. I ll text my Dad so he knows where we are.

Yeah and you can tell Gabby. Anwar says. She ll tell your Mom.

I shrug. I ll tell Marisol instead. I say and I slurp up the last of my fruit box.

So after school, I ask Marisol if she will tell my Mom I m staying after to play touchfootball with the guys and she agrees but I can tell she nds this odd.

Why are you not speaking to Gabby? she asks me carefully. There, I knew she hadan accent.

I shrug. I dont see her. I say and I look around and what do you know? There rightbeside me is Gabby.

Hey, Gabby, I say in my nothing is wrong voice, There you are. Could you tell my

Mom I

m playing touch at the playground? I smile but I don

t really look at her eyes.

I m not your messenger, Gabby snaps and she stomps off with the rest of the WSB,mainly Alicia and Susette who for some reason have decided to walk home the longway.

Gabby is ver hurt by you, Marisol says to me in a voice I think could be called grave.She is so serious. She is saying that you are friends. But, you are not acting likefriends.

Wha...? I spit out but Marisol is gone.

She has that right. We are NOT acting like friends. I shrug and ask Jack if I can use hiscell phone and I call my Mom and she says ne and I go and let Anwar and Jackknock me over for an hour or so and you know what? It cheers me up. Life is pretty sadif gasping for breath and being run over is a mood booster.

As I walk home, I pass the forsythia bush and I notice that someone is underneath it.Gabby? Who is she in there with?

I peer between the leaves more closely and I see that there are two people in there.They look like they are wrestling. And one of them sounds angry. Stop! Stop! shesays.

Hey! I shout. My voice is loud and, for once in my life, deep. Gabby? Is that you?Because nobody better be wrestling with Gabby under the forsythia.


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I step closer and rattle the branches at the back of the bushes. Give the wrestlers achance to disengage. I hear whispering.

Go! a girl says. I said I do not want this. GO! She sounds upset and she does notsound like Gabby.

OK! I say loudly. Oops, sorry. I think I know who is in there and it is NOT Gabby.

Marisol? I ask softly.

Shit! Some guy says and someone bursts out the other side of the bushes. As heraces away, his back looks suspiciously like a certain, Smart Handsome and Athletic 8thgrader.

Hey, Marisol? I ask again. I lean forward with my hands on my knees but I stare atthe ground. Marisol is making little crying noises.

Um, I say. Do you want me to, like, leave? Or walk you home? or...something?

Marisol crawls out from under the bushes. She scrapes herself because she doesn trealize the best way in is from the other side. Rosen - or whoever he was - didn trealize it either. Somehow this makes me feel better because it means that Gabbydidn t show our hideout to anyone.

I guess I m still a little kid to think that my friend and I were the only ones to gure outwhat a private space that was under the forsythias.

He said that all the kids played in here. Like it was a ...clubhouse? He wanted to showme. Marisol has dirt on her shirt and on her arms. So I think, ok? A special secret,right?

I nod and start walking towards the Malantonio s.

He says you and Gabby showed it to him.

Liar! I said. We never did. But I remember big kids being in the cemetery when wehid under there and if I could see Marisol and Rosen in the bushes, Rosen probablysaw us.

I have to admit. I bet he saw us playing under there. I smile. Marisol steps away fromme.

But hey, we were just playing - like secret spies and pirates and stuff. No kissing!I shudder to think of it. We were way too young for kissing. I am telling the truth.


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I am not too young for kissing, Marisol declares. She looks like she dares me tolaugh or argue.

But, more than kissing? her voice wobbles. I am too young for that. And she startscrying and sits down on the path.

I leave her there and race all the way to Gabby s house. I bang on the door and Mrs.Malantonio answers.

Marisol! I gasp. I really have to get in shape. I think she s all upset or something.And I point at her sitting in a heap on the cemetery walk.

Mrs. Malantonio races to help Marisol and I stand there all useless like a dork. Marisoldoesn t even look at me as she goes into the house. I wait until the door shuts and thenI walk home.

Mom is waiting for me.

Carla called. she says. Carla is Gabby s mom. She wants to know if you saw anyoneelse with Marisol? Mom s voice goes up because I think she s not sure who Marisol is.

I think. I didn t actually see Rosen s face. So that s what I say.

I think I know who was with her, I tell my Mom slowly. But I didn t see his face and bythe time I actually saw him, he was halfway across the cemetery.

Mom waits.

I could tell you who I think it is, I sigh and sit on one of the ktichen stools. But what ifI m worng? And I think. And if I tell you who I think it was, no one s going to believeme anyway.

Emma hears the whole thing.

Rosen. she says in a dead calm voice. I d bet anything it was Rosen.

I don t say another word. I don t look at either of them. I just sit there.

Then I say. I could not swear on a bible that it was Rosen. And even though I feel likea worm, I walk out of there.

Emma follows me. Was it Rosen?

Or his clone, I tell her. But if Marisol won t say who it is, I can t.Emma sort of nods. Rosen has a clone, you know.


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I laugh but I don t think it s funny. I throw my backpack on the oor next to my desk andop onto the bed.

That guy, Angle? Ron Angle? That hangs out with him all the time? Emms remindsme.

Yeah. I say. They even dress alike.

So was it Rosen? Emma asks. Or Angle?

I close my eyes and try to remember. Just some tall athletic guy raced away. Angleplays football so...

I was too worried about the crying, I said. It could have been either of them.

OK. Emma says and she straightens up. I ll go talk to Marisol.

And she s gone.

I lie there with my eyes closed. So a guy and a girl crawl under the bushes and kissand then he thinks he ll try something more. And she ...Well, what does she do? And,forgive me for being curious but I can t help wondering what it was like to be aloneunder there with Marisol and her curly shiny hair and her dark brown eyes...And hersmiling lips.

My eyes y open. Marisol doesn t have dark brown eyes! I jump up and walk aroundmy room, like, a bunch fo times. Maybe ten, maybe 300 times. Around and around,

like David when he wants to get dizzy. What is going on here? Someone please explainto me what is going on?

And then I wonder where David is. So I leave my room and look into the room nextdoor. Ralph looks up from the lego model he s building. Hey, Big! he says with asmile.

Hey! I go in because Lego s are one of my favorite things. I lean over and make a fewsuggestions that Ralph ignores. No problem. And he shows me one of his othermodels and then I ask, Where s david?

Dad took him to the doctor

s. Ralph says.

Docotr s? Did he hurt himself or something? Not that that would be a surprise.

Naw, just the check-up. Rakph says.

Then I realize someone else is missing. Where s dana? I aask.


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Ralph shrugs. So I make my way down to the living room. No Dana, no David. Mom sin the kitchen.

Hey, Mom, I say. I use my everything-is-normal voice. Where is everybody?

Dad took David to his check-up with Emily, she says as she nishes rinsing thelettuce. Ralph s in his bedroom. Emma ran out of here to check on your rendMarisol.

Gabby s cousin, Marisol, I correct her. And I wait.

You re here. she says with a small smile.

And Dana? I ask.

Mom sighs and puts the lettuce down on the counter with a thump.

Dana, she says carefully and slowly, is in her room, sulking.

I back out of the kitchen. Oh! I say.

So, Mom continues. If you could please set the table, I would appreciate it.

Yeah. I remind myself not to be so nosy in the future. Table setting is Dana s job. Thefact that Mom would ask me to do it, instead of dragging Dana down from her attic lair,means that Dana is In A Mood. Oh, I hate it when Dana is in a mood.

So I set the table and the front door slams and Emma races up the stairs. Then a carpulls up in the driveway and Dad and David burst in the kitchen door. The quiet isbroken and I relax. This house is not supposed to be quiet. Quiet makes me nervous.

We talk about stuff at dinner. Ralph nrings his model to the table and dad makes a fewsuggestions. I am proud to hear that they are almost identical to the ones I made. AndI am proud of Ralph when he grins and ignores them.

David shows everyone his green tongue because Emily gave him a lollipop. Thoselollipops are so tiny, Dad just let him have it. It didn t put much of a dent in his appetite.

Emma tells us a story about her math teacher, who can walk on water AND jump tallbuildings, I am thinking.

mom tells Dad about carla calling and did he know her niece from Peru had come tostay for the semester. Carla wants to know if Frazer has any openings for thissemester. Hon, do you think you could call Manny and ask around?Manny and Dad went to college together. Manny is Mom s go-to guy for waht s what inour town.


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I talk about how I was too late for football tryouts.

Ah, too bad, buddy, Dad says.

But I might play intramurals because, hey, I don

t know much about football.Dana snorts in her milk. It s her second snort of the evening. She snorted when Emmasaid something about Mr. Super Mathman.

I ignore her and so does everyone else. Dana hates to be ignored. And she really IS InA Mood. I hate her moods but I can t help it. I watch her out of the side of my eyes.

Or, I say, Mr. Wetherston suggested chess. It s not a sport-sport, though, so I think Imight just join the weight club.

Dana snorts again. I ght the smile on my lips.

But probably not, I say with a sigh, because I haven t nished growing.

True, Dad says, and he is watching Dana, too.

Dana takes a bite of her pasta. Now Emma is watching her, too.

What about joining the jazz band? she asks me. We all wait but no snorting noisesthere.

Hey, I say as if that is a great idea. I was pretty good on the trumpet.

Dana snorts again and we all turn and grin at her.

She looks up. We are all just looking at her. By all I mean Dad and Emma and I. Icross my arms and lean forward.

Hey, Dana, I say in my most pleasant voice. tell us what do you think? Should I playchess or the trumpet or...?

Emma smiles, too. We d love to hear your opinion. She pauses. In words. Not

horse snorts.

Mom looks up in alarm.

Allan, she warns my Dad because he looks like he s ready to chime in. Don t. Say.Anything.

Too late. Dana has erupted.


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I hate ALL of you!!! You are so mean! and she jumps up from her chair and slams outof the room and up the stairs. You ll be sorry. she calls from the top of the stairs.

We sit there snickering but suddenly, Emma and I both have the same scary thought.

You stay out of my room! I shout as I tear up the stairs after Dana.

Don t you touch my stuff, Emma shrieks and she shoves me aside on the stairs.

It was fun while it lasted. I reach my room to nd out that Dana managed to rip my StarWars poster off the wall. I want to be outraged but she was pretty angry and I have tosit down for a moment for my heart to stop racing. Man, I m tired. I think I ll just liedown for a few minutes.

Little sisters must be very exhausting. Ralph wakes me up about an hour later. I cough

- a lot and drag myself to a sitting position.

Dana s mad about school, Ralph tells me.

Yeah? I am not sure why he s telling me. Isn t this something you talk to your parentsabout? I heave a sigh.

Why? I ask. I rub my eyes. Man, I m tired and I can t seem to catch my breath.

I don t know. Ralph shrugs. But I think you shouldn t be mean to her.

I wait. Cuz school sucks this year. Ralph adds. Not too helpful, I think to myself. And Iwonder why people say that... I thought to myself? Because who else do most peoplethink to? Can you even think in a direction? Whoa. I need some water or something.

Sorry about that, Ralph, and I ttry to look sympathetic. Ralph looks scared.

Are you all right? he asks.

Yeah, I try to reassure him. But, no, I don t feel all right. I stand up and take a few steps

to the door.

MOM! MOOOOOOOMMMMMMM! Ralph runs down the hall and the steps to thekitchen. I hear him holler that I m having a heart detack or something.

Mom comes upstairs. She, at least, doesn t look worried.Are you ok?


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I start to nod but think better of it. I breathe in but the ari doesn t go anywhere.

Mom nods. Come with me. She drags me to the bathroom and turns on the shower.Get in, she orders.

What? I look down. I

m completely dressed.Do it.

I kick off my shoes and I strip and jump in the shower. Jeesh!

Aim the water at your chest, Mom orders

OW, I holler. It s HOT!

Mom sticks her hand in and adjusts the temperature a little.

Breathe in the steam, she orders. And I do. I breathe in and out, in and out and slowly,whatever was squeezing my lungs seems to loosen.

Why are you running the water like that? My Dad asks. He sounds irritated.

Mom grabs my hand as I reach to turn off the shower. She shakes her head and goesinto the hallway. She is almost whispering to my Dad. He says something but I can thear it over the water. I close my eyes and breathe in and out, in and out.

After a few more minutes, Dad comes in and says, You OK, buddy?

I breathe in and out. Like normal. Yeah, I say.

He says, Good. You can take a real shower now and turn off the water. I bet you havehomework. So I soap myself up, etc. If you don t know how to take a shower, I m notgoing to be the one to teach you.

I get clean clothes and get dressed and go downstairs. I missed dessert which wasNutty Buddies. I heart ice cream.

Dana is downstairs, too. She scowls at me and I sigh.

It takes every morsel of the goodness of my heart but I say. Sorry, Dana.

She snorts. I grab my NUtty Buddy out of the freezer and get out of the kitchenbecause I am going to do one of two things:Clock her ORLaugh hysterically in her face.Neither choice will improve the situation.


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Mom gives me some kid s allergy medicine that night.

I think you had a hay fever attack, she says. I m going to call Emily tomorrow and g

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