“Mind your own business,” I said at the same time Marley said, “He’s your sister’s crush.” I tried to elbow her, but it was too late.
Jackson howled like a wolf singing to the moon.
“You like Butts?” He stopped his squealing and started to dance. “You like Butts! Blue likes Butts!”
“I do not!” I tried to tell him, but it didn’t matter. I grabbed Marley’s arm and pulled her down the sidewalk.
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
“BLUE LIKES BUTTS.”
“It’s okay. He’s always like this. If we’re going to be friends, let’s get one thing clear: Never, ever, ever talk to my brother. Don’t even look him in the eye. Okay?”
“BLUE LIKES BUTTS.”
“Right. Got it.” She glanced quickly back at Jackson, but I watched her. She did not look him in the eye.
“BLUE LIKES BUTTS.”
I turned around. “No, I don’t, ’cause I don’t like you and you’re the biggest butt of all.”
Jackson made a pretend sad face and then pointed right in my face. “Blue likes b-u-t-t-s!”
I was going to kick him in his b-u-t-t-s in about two seconds if he didn’t shut his mouth.
“So what did you think of your first day of school?” I asked Marley.
“BLUE LIKES BUTTS.”
“It was good. Mrs. Wood is nice,” Marley answered.
“BLUE LIKES BUTTS.”
“But why is her classroom so dark?”
“It’s because she thinks—”
Jackson tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey, Blue. I heard you like Butts.”
Marley dropped her backpack on the ground. “That’s it. My mama taught me not to hit a boy, but if you say that one more time, it’s on.”
Jackson stopped in his tracks. “Wh-what?”
“You heard me,” she said, stepping closer to my evil brother. “I will make you wish you were never born.”
I watched Jackson’s face change as each thought passed through his tiny little pea brain. He finally shrugged.
“Okay.” He tightened the straps on his backpack and pulled up the waist of his jeans before stretching out his legs. He had a look in his eye, like some sort of terrible plan was all coming together. He walked right up to Marley, put his hand on her shoulder, and let out a deep breath. “Your friend, my sister, LOVES HER SOME BIG OLE BUTTS!” Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he took off running down the sidewalk before Marley could grab him.
“It’s okay,” I said as Marley picked up her backpack. “Thanks for trying.”
“Oh, I’m not done. I’m just giving him a head start. I run track.”
“Are you really going to beat him up?”
“Of course not. But he doesn’t know that.” Then she pushed her backpack into my arms and took off down the street after Jackson.
I was right. She really was the coolest fifth grader I’d ever seen.
12
I desperately needed money, and I decided Spring Break was the perfect time to make some.
I’d found the most beautiful pair of shoes, and I really needed them for when I met London Malloy. She would be so impressed by these beautiful works of art. They were extra-special because they reminded me of my mom’s fingernails—red and sparkly. They looked like Dorothy’s shoes in The Wizard of Oz, my mom’s most favorite movie. When I looked at them, I practically heard munchkins singing.
Like I said, I really needed those shoes.
One of the drawbacks of living in a house full of males is that they do not share my opinion on the importance of shoes. Still, I grabbed the photo of the shoes, which I’d printed at school, and went to find my father, determination boiling inside of me.
“Hey, Dad. Can I talk to you about something? It’s really important.”
He took off his reading glasses and put his book on the table next to him. “What is it, Blue?”
I thrust my picture at him and pointed to the shoes of utter perfection.
“I really need these shoes, which means I need you to get me these shoes.” He immediately put his glasses back on and reached for his book. “Wait, Dad. What are you doing?”
“Didn’t I just buy you a pair of shoes?”
“No.”
He gave me a look.
“Well, that was, like, two months ago.”
“It was, like, eleven days ago.”
“But I neeeed these ones! I want to wear them when we go to LA and meet London Malloy!”
Just then Jackson burst into the room, with Arnie hot on his heels. “Dad! Dad! You totally need to get us this game.” He thrust a picture at Dad. “It’s the new Four Force Seven. Come on, Dad!”
“Come on, Dad!” Arnie repeated.
“I seem to recall you already getting two new video games for your birthday.”
“Yeah, but Four Force Seven wasn’t out yet. I neeeed it,” he whined. What a baby.
“Um, I believe our father already told you no,” I said. “Besides, he’s buying me shoes, so he won’t have any money for your lame game.”
Dad opened his book. That was not a good sign.
“No, Blue. I’m sorry, Jackson. If you want to buy these things, then you’ll both have to buy them yourselves. You have money saved up.”
“But not enough,” Jackson said.
“I only have fifteen dollars. The shoes are thirty dollars.”
“Then I guess you’ll have to find ways to earn some more money.”
He started reading his book, and I knew there was no use in trying to talk him into it. I slumped away, utterly defeated. I needed those shoes.
“Hey,” Jackson said, coming up behind me. “I have an idea. Arnie and I have fifteen dollars and thirty-six cents. Well, actually I have fifteen dollars and Arnie has thirty-six cents, but anyway, what if you loan us your money? Then we’ll have enough money to get our game. Right, Arnie?”
“Right, Arnie,” Arnie repeated.
“No way, Jackson. Here’s a thought: Why don’t you lend me your money and I’ll have enough for my shoes? Sound good?” I turned away without waiting for an answer. “Nice try, though.”
“Wait a minute,” Jackson said. I stopped but I didn’t turn around. “What if we come up with some kind of contest? Whoever wins gets the other person’s fifteen dollars.”
I thought about it. “Maybe. What kind of contest?”
“Let’s play Four Force Six and whoever wins—”
“Not gonna happen. I’m not playing against you on your favorite game ever. What about a jump-rope contest?”
“Yeah right, Blue. Weren’t you the third-grade champion?”
“Was I? I can’t remember.”
Seth came around the corner just then. “What are you two arguing about now?”
We both tried to explain at the same time, and eventually he held up his hand. “Okay. I’ve heard enough. There’s an easy solution to this. Why don’t you see who can earn the most money? Start right now for the rest of today and the winner takes it all.”
That was too risky. What if I lost?
“Unless you’re both scared . . .”
Um, scared? “Fine,” I said. “Jackson, are you in?”
He gulped. “Okay. Whoever makes the most money gets to keep all the money, including the fifteen dollars we each already have.” He held out his hand, and I shook it.
“Time starts now,” Seth said, walking away. Jackson and I stared at each other for a split second before running in opposite directions.
“Come on, Arnie. Let’s go,” Jackson called while I went back to my room.
I rifled through my things, desperate for inspiration. I needed to make money, but how? I paced around for a few minutes, sweat dripping down my back, until Seth showed up in my doorway.
“You have no idea what to do, do you?”
“I got nothin’.”
“Last summer I made fifty dollars a day doing yard work.”
“Well, it’s not summer, Seth.”
>
“No, but it’s springtime now. People are starting to plant flowers and water their plants and mow their lawns. . . .”
“Ew, Seth. I don’t want to push a heavy lawn mower.”
“Then I guess you don’t want those shoes. Have fun watching Jackson play his video game.” Seth shrugged and left.
I thought about it some more. I mean, it’s not like I had any better ideas, and I was wasting precious time. I finally sat down at my desk and started drawing out a flier. I listed the different services I could provide, such as raking leaves, mowing lawns, trimming bushes, picking up trash, and watering grass and flowers. I made prices for each task and decorated the flier’s edges with pretty flowers.
Skipping down the hallway, I could already imagine the sparkling red magic all over my feet. Those shoes were mine.
I quickly printed out twenty fliers on the copier in my dad’s office and rushed out the door. I went from house to house and passed them out. Most people weren’t home, so I left a flier on their door. The people who were home just smiled politely, said “No thank you,” and shut the door. Feeling defeated, I headed home.
As I got closer to Jane’s house, I noticed she was sitting on her front porch. I put my head down and tried not to look at her as I passed by.
“What have you got there?” she called out. I ignored her and kept walking. “Blue? What have you been passing out all over the neighborhood?”
I sighed and waited as she approached me. I handed her my last flier. Her lips moved while she read my list.
“I see. So you’re going around the neighborhood looking to do yard work?” She threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t suppose you see the irony in this?”
“Huh?”
She looked down at the flier again. “I’ll tell you what. You can do everything on this list for me. I want you to mow the lawn and trim my raspberry bush. I also want you to clear out my flower beds and pull the weeds. But here’s the catch, Blue Warren. You’re going to do it all for free.”
“What?” I think I actually squeaked.
“That’s right. You owe me, as I remember.” She put her pink-manicured hand on my shoulder. I was surprised her nails weren’t black. Like her soul.
“Hurry along. And do a good job. I have some errands to run this afternoon, but I’ll be around for a little while.”
I stomped toward my house, my blood boiling. How did this even happen? I’d purposely skipped her house so I wouldn’t have to talk to her, and now I was stuck doing all her yard work for free! Of course, I could say no, but would she march right over and tell my dad what we did with the newspapers in her backyard? It wasn’t worth the risk.
I rolled our lawn mower toward her haunted house, so angry I could hardly see straight. That’s when I noticed my brothers.
They were carrying a brown paper bag and going door-to-door. I couldn’t see what they were doing, and they stayed away from me. It didn’t matter anyway; I was wasting all my precious time working for free. Even if they somehow figured out a way to earn one dollar, they were going to win.
I glanced at Jane the Witch, sitting so smug on her front porch. She watched me as I started down one side of the stupid grass, pushing the stupid lawn mower along. After I finished, I walked the stupid mower back into the garage and grabbed our stupid hedge clippers. I started trimming the stupid raspberry bush and then I started eating her stupid delicious raspberries.
The sun beat down, making my whole body break out in a sweat. Great. Now I was sticky and penniless.
It felt like hours passed as I made my way over to start on her stupid flowers. I unraveled her hose so I could water them, but she stopped me.
“Here, use this.” She handed me a watering can and a cold glass of what looked like lemonade. Or poison.
I hesitated before taking the glass. It was so hot, and I was so thirsty. I licked my lips, and before I could stop myself, I put the glass up to my mouth and poured the sweet, icy liquid down my incredibly parched throat as fast as I could.
Jane laughed. “I’ll get you some more while you start on those flowers.”
I nodded, grateful for the lemonade but still upset that I was spending my whole day working for free. My beautiful Dorothy shoes were forever gone. I sighed as I filled up the watering can. I was about to start when she came back out with the second glass.
“Thanks.” I took a few swigs, not sure what else to say.
“Have a seat, Blue. Take a break for a minute.”
I would have rather kept working, but I didn’t say this. I sat down on the concrete steps and fidgeted with the hem of my shorts.
“Not exactly how you pictured spending your day, is it?” I didn’t respond. “So why are you trying to earn money? That is what you’re doing, isn’t it? Trying to earn some money?”
I just shrugged, but she kept waiting for me to say something. “I wanted a new pair of shoes.” I kind of huffed my answer.
“Wanted? You don’t want them anymore?”
“No, I still want them. It’s just . . . never mind.”
“You can talk to me, you know. Are these shoes special?” she asked, but I shrugged my answer again. I didn’t know how to explain to her how important the shoes were to me. That it would be like having a piece of my mother with me when I met London Malloy.
We sat in silence for a few moments, me sipping the lemonade and Jane staring into the distance, no doubt thinking about some potion or spell.
“Well, what do these shoes look like?” she finally asked.
“They’re red and sparkly and perfect. I saw them in the JCPenney catalogue and they go up to a size seven. I’m a size six, but, whatever, it’s not like I need them.” What just happened? Jane wasn’t my friend. I couldn’t believe I’d just told her all of that.
And also, I lied. I absolutely did need those shoes.
“I see,” Jane said. “Did you want these shoes for something specific?”
“No. Well, sort of. It’s hard to explain.”
“So try,” she said, nudging me softly with her shoulder.
I didn’t know what to say, but she continued to stare at me—so much so that I finally said, “The shoes remind me of someone very important. Someone I’m trying very hard not to forget.”
Jane nodded like she understood, but she couldn’t possibly. “You know, most people are sad when they remember people from their past, but I think the real tragedy is when you forget them.” She looked down at her watch. “Speaking of which, I almost forgot that I have some errands to run. I’ll be back in a bit. Please don’t forget to clear out the flower beds; I just picked up some daisy and sunflower seeds I want to get planted this weekend. And you know what else? Why don’t you pull the weeds that are growing along the side of the house, too? That should keep you pretty busy.” She turned to leave but then added, “Sorry about your shoes. I understand how you feel. At least there’s always tomorrow.”
She clearly didn’t understand anything at all. I wasn’t talking about just the shoes. I tried not to groan out loud as I picked up the trowel and headed toward the planters that lined her windows. I’d already pulled the weeds and watered one when Jane’s garage door opened and she drove away. Good riddance.
It was still so hot, and I finished the rest of the lemonade in no time. I wished I had more. Trying not to think about it, I worked as fast as I could, cleaning and watering all her flower beds and planters. As I carried the trash bag to the side of the house where Jane kept the trash cans, I saw my brothers working their way around the neighborhood again. What were they up to?
I was halfway through with the weeds on the side of the house when Jane pulled into the driveway and parked in her garage. A few minutes later, she came out and inspected my work right in front of me. She put a finger in the stupid flower garden to check the moisture of the soil. She went into the stupid backyard and searched for a lone leaf that I might’ve missed. She marched back and forth, making sure the stupid raspberry bush was perf
ect. I wanted to stomp all over her delicious raspberries.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with a filthy hand while I waited. I knew I looked disgusting, but I didn’t care. I was so ready to leave.
“I think you’ve done enough for today. Thank you for your help, Blue.”
I mumbled a “You’re welcome.” Picking up the tools I’d brought over, I walked away without so much as a backward glance or even a goodbye.
I dragged myself up the stairs and started a shower. I closed my eyes and let the cool water wash the hard day’s work off me. What a stupid, stupid day. Stupid contest. Stupid yard work. Stupid red sparkle shoes.
No. The red sparkle shoes weren’t stupid. They were bedazzled perfection.
After I was all dressed, I went downstairs to look for Jackson and Arnie. They were sitting on the couch, watching cartoons and eating popsicles. Jackson barely looked up.
“How much did she pay you?” Jackson asked.
“A lot,” I answered. I wasn’t quite ready to admit my defeat just yet. “What did you and Arnie do? How much money did you make?”
“Ten cents.” Arnie smiled with purple drool from the popsicle.
“Not cents, Arnie. I keep telling you. It’s ten dollars.”
“Ten dollars,” Arnie said.
“What? How did you earn that much money? You didn’t even do anything.” It was so unfair.
Jackson turned down the television and sat up straight. “We worked very hard today, didn’t we, Arnie?” Arnie nodded very seriously. “We sold flower bouquets to all of our neighbors.”
“Flower bouquets? How? We don’t have any flowers.”
“We picked them,” Arnie said.
“What do you mean, you picked them? Where did you pick them from?”
“We walked around the neighborhood and picked them out of our neighbors’ yards,” Jackson said. “They had so many pretty ones to choose from.”
“Red and yellow and blue, like you,” Arnie said.
I just stood there. I couldn’t speak.
“What?” Jackson asked.
“You . . . you . . .” I took a deep breath. “You mean to tell me, you picked the neighbors’ flowers and then sold them back to them? Their own flowers?”
The Messy Life of Blue Page 10