The King of Jam Sandwiches

by Eric Walters

  “That’s a pretty amazing tent.”

  “And completely waterproof. There can be a storm outside, and you’re safe and dry inside. I know that for a fact because I’ve been in it during a big thunderstorm. I also have a shovel, an ax and a cooler in my shed that I can bring along. This is my final backup plan.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re in the middle of our neighborhood, surrounded by tens of thousands of people, and we’re completely isolated. I could live here and nobody would know it.”

  “What do you mean, live here?”

  “I could stay here. I could live right here.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. It works. I’ve slept out here.”

  “By yourself?”

  “Of course by myself. I needed to make sure the equipment all worked. I needed to make sure it was as isolated here as I thought it was. I’ve done it a few times. Once for three days.”

  “And your father just let you go camping on your own?”

  “I told him I was staying at a friend’s house. He doesn’t know about this place because nobody does. Nobody but you. Nobody knows about this plan. Nobody but you.”

  She looked confused but like she was trying to think.

  “So, if I understand, your plan is to go and live by yourself in a tent by the railroad tracks?” she finally said.

  “This is my backup plan. Well, really, my backup backup plan. My plan is to survive living with my father as long as I can or at least live in the house without him as long as nobody knows. Then, when somebody finds out, I’ll come here to live.”

  “Look, staying here for a few days is one thing, but you don’t actually believe you can live here forever, do you?” Harmony asked.

  “Not forever.”

  I reached into the pack and pulled out one more thing—my notebook. I’d put in there before Harmony arrived. I handed it to her.

  “Open it up. Turn to the last page I’ve written on and tell me what it says.”

  She did. “It’s a number—1,612. What does it mean?”

  “That’s the number of days between now and the time I can go to university.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I counted them. I’m counting down to my end date, the day I have to get to. It’s how long I have to survive everything.”

  “You can’t live out here. It would be impossible,” she said.

  “I hope I don’t have to. I’ll keep living with my father as long as I can—until he leaves or dies or whatever. Then I’ll live in the house without him.”

  “There’s no way anybody will let you live on your own.”

  “If he just disappears, nobody will know. I’ll pay the bills and run the house. I’ll go to school and work at the butcher shop. I have the banking information. I can just keep living there. Maybe for six months or even a year, if I do it right, and each day will be a day closer to the end. If he disappeared today, it would only be 1,612 days more.”

  “You couldn’t last that long.”

  “Why not? I’ve already lasted over 3,000 days.”

  “What?”

  “When my mother died, I had 5,012 days to go.”

  I took the book from her and opened it to the first page. The very first number written there was 5,012.

  “Come on, you didn’t start counting days back when you were four,” Harmony said.

  “Of course not. I’ve only been counting days for two years. I went back and figured it out and crossed out each day that I’d already lived. I’ve lasted almost twice as many days as I still have to go. Does that make sense?”

  “It makes sense in a crazy sort of way,” she said. “But do you really think you can live alone?”

  “Why not? Living with my father is like living on my own. I know what needs to be done.” I paused. “He’s equipped me with what I need to go on. I know what to do.”

  All the times he’d woken me up, all the times he’d disappeared, the food in the basement, the money hidden around the house, the bank account, my having paid bills and shopped for groceries and fixed meals. All the time thinking he was going to die or leave me—all of it had prepared me. I could survive because I’d already survived so much.

  “And then if people did find out I was living on my own in the house, I’d just take off and come here. I’d live in the forest. This is my backup backup plan.”

  Harmony got out of her chair and walked over to me. “You realize that this is sort of…sort of…”

  “Desperate?” I asked.

  “I was going to say crazy.”

  “I figured if anybody could understand it, you would.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Maybe it doesn’t all make sense…but it’s all I have,” I said.

  “And I shouldn’t take that away from you. Look, Robert, if anybody can make this work, it’s you.”

  “I can make it work because I have no choice.”

  “And this is what you’ve been spending all your money on?” she said. “On camping stuff?”

  “I’ve been putting some away too. I have almost a thousand dollars saved up.”

  “And here I was, wondering if you had enough money for a pair of pants,” she said.

  “I have enough to do what I have to do. Look, I better break down my camping stuff and pack it up before it gets dark.”

  “I can help,” she offered.

  “It’s okay. I know exactly how it’s all supposed to be packed away,” I said.

  “Still, isn’t it good to have somebody here to help?”

  I had to admit that it was. And it was even better to have finally shared my last secret with her.

  TWENTY

  Our history teacher, Mrs. Green, had asked Harmony to go out into the hall with her to continue their “discussion” in private. They may have been out of sight, but they weren’t out of sound and were really not private at all. Mrs. Greene had told everybody to continue silent reading, but nobody was reading. They were all listening in.

  Raj leaned over. “You should go out there.”

  “What?”

  “You might be able to stop it.”

  “He’s right—you should go out there,” Taylor said.

  “I’m not that brave.”

  Raj and Taylor both chuckled.

  The voices in the hall had gotten quieter, so maybe there was no need. Then they got louder again. At least, Harmony’s did. I couldn’t make out the words, but the anger was unmistakable. Then Mrs. Greene’s voice came across loud and clear, followed by a burst from Harmony and then… silence.

  The door opened and Mrs. Greene stepped back in. Harmony wasn’t with her. Mrs. Greene closed the door behind her. Either Harmony had taken off or been sent to the office. One was bad and the other was worse.

  I shot my hand into the air and didn’t wait for Mrs. Greene to respond. “Can I go to the washroom?”

  She nodded. I jumped up and headed for the door. Mrs. Greene was still there, and she leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I’ve sent her to the office…I didn’t have any choice…try to calm her down if you can.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I ran toward the office. I hoped I could get to Harmony before she reached it. If she kept escalating, it wouldn’t just be getting kicked out of class. She could get suspended and kicked out of school for the rest of the day or even longer.

  The office had come into sight, but Harmony hadn’t. I peeked through the glass. She wasn’t there. Mrs. Henry waved, and I waved back.

  I had to think. Where would Harmony have gone instead? There was her locker, the isolated hall at the back of the auditorium where we sat sometimes, or maybe she’d just gone, walked out. I’d try the last possibility first and work my way back through the other two.

  I ran along the hall and out the back door. I went into the yard just in time to see her make the turn toward the street. I ran across the yard and caught up to her. She didn’t look surpr
ised to see me.

  “You can’t just walk away.”

  “Watch me.” She started walking again, and I ran and put myself in front of her.

  “Look, just go to the office, say you’re sorry, and that’s the end of it.”

  “I’m not sorry. Do you want me to lie?” she asked.

  “Of course I do. Look, you’ll get suspended if you just take off.”

  “How stupid. If I leave school, they won’t let me go to school?”

  “I didn’t say it was smart. Please. You’ve been doing so well. You’ve gone six weeks without a suspension. Isn’t that, like, your record?”

  “Close.”

  Her expression had softened ever so slightly.

  “Come on. If you get suspended, you’ll probably get grounded, and if you get grounded you can’t go shopping with me after the basketball game like you promised. Do you want to be responsible for what I buy without you?”

  She smiled, and then she laughed. “Just so I understand, you’re arguing that your lack of taste is the reason I should come back?”

  “Basically. That and because I’m asking you to. Please?”

  “How can I say no to a boy who counts down days and thinks camping by the railroad tracks is an answer to a long-term place to live?”

  “I’m hoping you can’t. Come on.”

  I took her by the hand and started walking back to the school. She didn’t fight me. “What’s your magic number?” she asked.

  “Fifteen hundred and eighty-four days. Yours?” I asked.

  “Twenty-three days until she’s through rehab.”

  “And how long after that before you think she might be ready to take you back?” I asked.

  “It could be another month or longer, depending on when she can find a place to live and apply to the agency to get me back.”

  “She’s still going to be looking for a place around here, right?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Everybody needs a plan,” I said.

  “And at least two backup plans, I’ve been told.”

  Harmony—and her social worker—had convinced her mother that it was important for Harmony to have “continuity” and that it would help her mother’s case to have her return to her care if she found a place around here when she got out of rehab. They were looking for an apartment that was close enough for Harmony to finish out the year at Osler. I wanted that. But what I really wanted was for her to live with the Watsons and walk to and from school with me every day. That wasn’t just me being selfish. Why would Harmony returning to her mother be any better this time than all the other times?

  “Basically, your magic number is twenty-three plus the thirty days to find a place, for a total of fifty-three. That’s not long,” I said.

  “That’s assuming she makes it through the program.”

  “She’s gone this far, so why wouldn’t she finish?”

  Harmony didn’t answer. I knew they had a telephone call every second day and were supposed to have spoken the night before and…

  Her having problems today made sense now. “Yesterday’s call didn’t go so well, did it?” I asked.

  “Not the best. She was complaining that she really didn’t need treatment any longer, that staying was a waste of her time.” Harmony let out a big sigh.

  “She’s still there. We’ll talk while we’re shopping. Don’t worry, your detention won’t be that long,” I said.

  She skidded to a stop. “I’m going to get a detention?”

  “Oh yeah, you’re definitely getting a detention for being tossed out of class, but isn’t a twenty-minute detention before the game a lot better than a one-day suspension?”

  “Fine.”

  She started walking. I trailed after her along the hall and right up to where she headed into the office. I waited just off to the side so I could see through the glass that she was talking to the secretary. Then, as she sat down on the bench, I headed back to class.

  TWENTY–ONE

  I came in the front door and Candy greeted me as usual. I had worked hard, but Mrs. Priamo had fixed me a great meal before I started work. I liked the Priamos a lot. They were always nice to me. Lots of people were nice to me. Teachers, neighbors. My friends and Harmony. I didn’t include her in the friends category because she was more than just a friend. She was my best friend. I figured even Sal knew that now.

  My father was home. He didn’t respond when I said hello. He just sat there, staring at the TV. The elevator was almost all the way down. I could see it in his expression and in the way he sat on the couch. He was still functioning, but he was headed to a place where he soon wouldn’t be.

  He excused himself—said how “tired” he was and went to bed. I’d make a point of setting my alarm extra early to make sure he got up in the morning. I’d make him some breakfast and pack a lunch for him and see that he got off to work.

  I watched him drive away. He’d been in a reasonable mood this morning. I was positive he’d slept through the night, and sleep could make things better.

  I just wished I could have slept as well as him. I’d lain awake going through all my plans and backup plans. Eventually I’d drifted off about two in the morning. I’d even gotten up and done some counting. I’d opened my notebook and since it was after midnight, I had changed the number to 1,580. That was a nice round number. Day by day it was working.

  The phone rang, and I ran to answer it. I knew who it would be. Nobody else would be calling me at seven in the morning.

  “Hey, Harmony, how are you—”

  “It’s not Harmony, Robert. It’s Darlene—Mrs. Watson.”

  “Um…hello…how are you?” There could only be bad reasons she was calling me.

  “I’m sorry to call you this early.”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Harmony ran away last night.”

  My heart rose up into my throat.

  “My husband and I have been up most of the night.”

  “When did she leave?” I asked.

  “Sometime after we went to bed. We didn’t discover she was gone until about one in the morning when I heard a noise. It must have been the back door closing when she left.”

  “And you don’t have any idea where she is?”

  “I was hoping you’d know,” she said.

  “I don’t know anything.”

  “We’re all pretty worried…scared.”

  I was both.

  “But why would she run? Things were going so well.” Wait. “Did her mother take off from rehab again?”

  “Yes, she left the treatment center.”

  “Then Harmony’s probably gone to the East End to look for her.”

  In my mind I quickly ran through the bars we’d gone to. I remembered the name of the bar where we’d met Jeff. Should I tell Mrs. Watson that’s where she might be? If I did, I would have to explain that we’d been there before.

  “We know where her mother is.” There was a pause. “I’m really not supposed to tell. It’s all very confidential, but you deserve to know. Harmony’s mother has been arrested.”

  “Arrested for what?” I exclaimed.

  “She was caught with drugs and then she resisted arrest. It sounds serious. The social worker told Harmony and me that it could be half a year before it even goes to court, and then Valerie could be facing at least six months in jail, maybe more, if she’s convicted.”

  A year. Harmony couldn’t go home to her mother for at least a year. That was why she’d run.

  “We told her that she could stay here for as long as she needs to,” Mrs. Watson said.

  I knew she would have said that to reassure Harmony, but it would have done the opposite.

  “Robert, you’d tell me if you knew where she was, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course! You know, she told me you’re the best people she’s ever been with.”

  Mrs. Watson let out a big sigh. “That makes me feel at least a bit better. I was thinking that someho
w it was our fault.”

  “It wasn’t.” I wanted to tell her about Harmony saying they were so nice that their home would be a good place for me to go, but I couldn’t without telling her too much.

  “If you hear, if she calls, you’ll let us know… right?”

  “Yeah, of course. And if she calls, I’ll try to get her to come back.”

  “Thank you, Robert. If there’s one person in the world she’ll listen to, I think it’s you.”

  It was nice of Mrs. Watson to say that, but if Harmony really listened to me, she wouldn’t have run in the first place.

  We said goodbye and I put the phone down. What now? Could I just go to school and try to pretend that Harmony wasn’t missing? Should I go and look for her? No, that made no sense—I didn’t know where to even start. Maybe she would show up at school or be there somewhere along the way, waiting for me. There was only one way to find out.

  I gave Candy the last little corner of my toast. She gobbled it up. She had been all over me this morning. She knew I was anxious. I thought about how Candy needed me, how she was one of the reasons I’d never run away or go away. I needed her too.

  I’d worked hard to follow routine this morning. Routine stopped me from thinking, stopped me from feeling, stopped me from worrying. Okay, that was a lie. Nothing stopped those things completely, but routine helped.

  My father always accused me of worrying too much. I thought I was doing well not to worry all of the time.

  If Harmony was planning to meet me along the way, I had to follow the routine we always followed. I’d packed a second sandwich—peanut butter—for Harmony. She would have missed breakfast and would be hungry. Then I could try to convince her to go back to the foster home—although I was worried that she’d try to convince me to run away with her. I wasn’t running anywhere. Even if her plan had fallen apart, I still had my mine, and I had to stick with them.

  I said goodbye to Candy, squeezed out the door, clicked the lock and pulled the door closed. I was partway down the walk when I turned. I had to go back and check. Unavoidable. Two steps up, one big bounce across the porch. The door was locked. Time to go to school, and hopefully Harmony would be there or somewhere along the way, waiting for me….