by Ben Clabaugh
CHAPTER 12
David stared. I choose to enjoy my peanut butter sandwich? What the heck did that mean? It seemed to mean nothing, and yet it had thrown David completely off. The words bounced around in his head like a bullet in a submarine.
Before Shelton was half way to the kitchen, David took two quick steps, caught up to Shelton, grasped him by the arm, and twirled him around.
“That’s it?!” he demanded. “My mom’s having a baby she hasn’t told me about, as if she can just replace….,” David snapped his lips closed before her name could pass his lips. He released Shelton’s arm forcefully, pushing him a step further into the kitchen then stammered on, his voicing rising in volume and pitch as he went.
“I mean as if… as if… it’s not as if I already have enough to deal with. I don’t need you making fun of me with that picture. But then I find out my mom’s having this baby, and when I tell you the only reason I hang out with you is because I have to, you just… you want to have a sandwich?”
Shelton shrugged, calm and serene. “Sure,” he replied. He reached up and lightly pressed his forefinger gently into David’s chest. “Do you wanna be mad, or do you wanna have a sandwich with me?”
David stepped back, slapping the finger away. “What? Are you listening? I don’t want to be mad, but my.…”
Shelton shook his head slowly, patiently. “You wanna be mad, okay. Then go ahead and think about all that stuff. Think about it real hard, how it makes you feel and how unfair it is, and how wrong everyone else is, then you’ll be good and mad. Or you can not be mad and we can enjoy our peanut butter sandwiches. Up to you.”
He patted David lightly on the chest with the palm of his hand, and went into the kitchen.
I choose to enjoy my peanut butter sandwich.
David shook his head, trying to clear it, and he remembered standing in the concourse at the stadium, ignoring all the nasty looks and frightened stares, and he thought again of the story of Buddha that his grandfather had told his sister.
I choose.…
He stood beside the dining room table, the vitamin jar in his hand, watching dust motes drift on a sunbeam streaming between the curtains. He heard the scrape of a chair on the floor in the kitchen.
Shelton didn’t get it. There was so much more to it than that. Shelton just didn’t understand what David was dealing with. There was Janie, and his parents, and all the shrinks, and….
The words came to him again, I choose….
David wandered into the kitchen, his mind strangely empty but for those two words ricocheting around. He felt like he was on the verge of realization. If he could just get his mind clear, he would get it. Then, just as he felt he was about to figure it out, the feeling was gone.
“You okay?” Shelton asked, his voice muffled by the huge mouthful of bread. He held a large glass of milk in one hand.
David nodded and sat down. Shelton slid a sandwich wrapped in a paper towel across the table to him. David took a bite. Globs of peanut butter oozed from between the bread slices. Instantly, David felt his mouth sealed shut. It was as if Shelton had made his sandwich with glue instead of peanut butter. It tasted wonderful. David’s eye grew wide as he struggled to chew. Shelton laughed, hopped up and poured David a glass of milk.
Having finished their sandwiches, the two boys sat back in their chairs, smiling contentedly. David was leaning back in his chair, his finger deep in his mouth scooping peanut butter from behind his teeth, feeling pretty good—What was it I was so mad about?—when his gaze fell upon the jar of vitamins.
He tilted forward, the front legs of his chair thumping down on the white speckled linoleum. He thought again of the picture Shelton had drawn. He shook his head ruefully.
“Hey, Shel. Sorry I made such a big deal about the picture.” He laughed ruefully. “Guess I just looked at it wrong. That’s all.”
Shelton smiled so wide, bits of partially chewed bread and peanut butter extruded from the sides of his mouth. He swallowed hugely as he nodded.
“Exactly,” he said and slapped the table.
At the sharp noise, Pete leapt to his feet, tail wagging, and woofed once. Shelton giggled and before David could protest, tossed the rest of his sandwich into the air. Pete tracked it expertly, caught the sandwich in mid air, and swallowed it in one bite.
“Wait a minute. What?” David asked.
Shelton stood, rubbed the top of Pete’s head, said, “I have to go. Mom wants to go to the store.”
David just stared, nonplussed. He felt as if his brain were floating, unable to figure out what to think or say. Finally he nodded dumbly, stood. Shelton walked through the door, and David stepped over and watched him through the kitchen window.
He remained standing there long after Shelton had disappeared into his house, his brain still foggy, floating. He watched as Shelton and his mom got into their car, backed out of the driveway, and drove down the street. For the first time that day, he noticed the black SUV parked in its usual place, across the street and four lots down. As Shelton and his mother passed, the brake lights winked on, then off as the car pulled out into the street and drove away.
Be sure to check out the rest of the “Same Planet – Different World” Book Series
Book I Same Planet – Different World
Book IIThe Loser, the Pyscho, and the Retard
Book IIISmelling the Sky