Anatomy of a Misfit
Page 18
Inside, a dog starts barking.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!”
She jumps in and suddenly we are peeling out backward as the front porch light of Mr. Baum’s mansion goes on and my mom speeds down Sheridan like she’s Billy the Kid.
I sit bundled in my snowman outfit, unable to move or remark, for that matter. I mean, the whole thing is so ludicrous, but I’m kind of in awe of my mother at this point.
Also, I have now come to the happy conclusion that I get my “specialness” from her. Mystery solved!
Although, to be honest, I will miss that $1,237.00 included in “the drop.”
My mom keeps looking suspiciously in the rearview mirror. I can practically hear her heart beating from here.
“Okay.” She exhales. “I think we lost ’em.”
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fifty-six
Two days later and I’m still in bed with the flu or a cold or probably cholera. I’m lying back in bed now, bundled. My mom has the sheets up and is taking my temperature. She takes out the thermometer.
“Okay. Ninety-nine-point-three. That’s better.”
She puts the thermometer away and fluffs up the pillows.
“You still have to rest though, okay?”
“You mean like don’t go on any weird heists where we ‘make a break for it.’”
She smiles and tucks me under the blanket.
“Exactly.”
“Mom?”
“Yes, honey.”
“Do you think that maybe you have a future in the Secret Service?”
My mom laughs.
It’s the dumbest thing in the world but I feel like a huge anvil has been taken off my shoulders ever since we burned rubber out of Mr. Baum’s driveway.
“Mom, I think you saved the day, kinda.”
“What do you mean, honey?”
“Well, like, I think that whole thing was really bothering me, like rotting my guts out or something.”
“Oh yeah? So, lemme ask you a question, then. Was it actually worth the thousand dollars—”
“One thousand two hundred thirty-six dollars and fifty cents.”
“Okay, was it worth that EXACT amount . . . to feel like that?”
“Mom, is this an after-school special?”
“No. No, it’s not. But I wanna know. Was it worth it?”
Ugh. I hate it when anybody else is right.
“No, Mom, it wasn’t. It was dumb.”
“Okay, good. So now I don’t have to worry about that anymore . . . ?”
“No. You don’t.”
“Good. ’Cause you could ruin your future. Then what would your father do?”
“He’d probably go to Vienna. Oh, wait, he already did that.”
“Just remember, no stealing. It’s rude.”
“Mom, wanna hear something stupid?”
“Please. No. I can’t take another heist.”
“I love you.”
My mom looks down at me. She gets a little weepy, or maybe she’s just tired. It’s been three days of taking care of sicko me, not to mention the other four rapscallions around here.
“I love you, too, honey. Just stop poisoning people.”
She kisses me on the forehead.
“Now go to sleep, little cubby.”
She tucks me in and shuts the door behind her.
I can’t seem to keep my head up with all this Tylenol and chicken soup she’s plied me with. She’s got me bundled up like an Eskimo with Vicks VapoRub slathered all over the place and a humidifier by the bed. My mom is not messing around when it comes to colds. Or flus.
The ceiling is starting to turn into oatmeal and I can’t keep my eyes open even for a minute. Somehow the letter and the phone call and the haiku and the heist are all too much to think about and my head goes clunk on the pillow and suddenly I’m staring at that crystal white painting from Logan. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I’ll wake up in Geneva or Zermatt or Vienna. Maybe I’ll wave to the vampire and he’ll wave back, if I’m getting straight As. If I flunk, he’ll keep walking.
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fifty-seven
In my dream I’m standing on a sheet of snow, stretched out in a basin underneath the mountains of Switzerland. Behind me is the Matterhorn and it’s a bright blue sky, the color of a Tiffany box. It’s me but in a way it’s not me, standing there. Me in a white dress and everything is white white white. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been, like a charmed crystal forest and on the other side, coming out of the black is Logan. He’s standing there, and even though he’s miles away I can see him, see into his eyes.
We’re getting moved toward each other, like the snow basin is a conveyor belt, moving us together and now we are closer, closer and now we are close. Now he is right in front of me and the sky is bright white and it starts to snow, just little pieces, little by little, snowflake by snowflake, and we both know that this is the most enchanted place in the world, this place between us. And he leans in and I lean in and it’s a kiss, a chaste kiss, that becomes a not-so-chaste kiss and now it’s like we are turning into, turning into one thing, turning into each other, turning into the white light and the snowflakes and we are light light light and just about to float up into the sky, up past the mountains and the black forest and the Matterhorn and up up up over the whole wide world.
But then the black forest trees turn spiky and spindly and mean, they reach out from behind Logan and grab him with their arms, pulling him back, and the white snow basin caves in and suddenly there is nothing, nothing underneath and the black blade trees take Logan down down down and away, away further. And I’m screaming, or I’m trying to scream but nothing’s coming out and we’re looking at each other, across the freezing ice abyss and we’re helpless, helpless and no one can hear me, no one can see, and then I look to find him, I look everywhere around me and through the ice and the tree branches and the snow forest, but he’s gone.
I wake up with a jump and now I’m covered with sweat and it’s so quiet you can hear your breath and something’s wrong. But nothing’s wrong. It was just a dream. That was just a dream I had, but it was so real, it felt like more real even, than this now. This here, that is real.
The clock is blinking: 4:13.
4:13.
4:13. And stone-cold silence. None of it was real, it was just a dream. Don’t be silly.
But there’s something weird. There’s something tugging me out of bed and down the hall. Down the hall, which seems now longer than I remember it. And I’m walking. Like I’m sleep-walking but no, now I’m awake. I’m awake now. This is my house. This is my hallway. That is my phone.
And I pick up the phone.
What am I doing?
What the fuck am I doing?
Oh, I know what I’m doing. I’m gonna call Logan. I’m gonna call Logan now and tell him I’m in love with him.
And I know this now.
I know this like I know the sky is blue and I know the world is round and I know the moon revolves around the earth, the earth revolves around the sun. And I can’t wait to tell him. I can’t wait to tell him and it’s gonna be just like that kiss, just like that kiss in the snow cloud and he and I are gonna be like light and air, together.
But it’s 4:17. You can’t call someone at 4:17. You can call them at ten at night maybe, or maybe nine in the morning if it’s urgent. But not 4:17. You can’t do that. That’s just weird. Nobody will even be up even and then you’ll just wake everybody. And what are you gonna say, “Put Logan on. ’Kay, thanks. Hey, Logan, I had a dream about a bunch of snow and I’m in love with you.”
No, no. Wait for tomorrow. Wait for tomorrow and tell him after school. Or before school. Or at school? Who gives a
shit anyways. Just tell him at school. You’re gonna tell him. You’re gonna tell him at school. And then it’ll be you and him together.
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fifty-eight
There’s a TV on when I wake up, which is weird. It’s about 5:00 a.m., which is weird. We’re not a house that wakes up at five in the morning and we’re certainly not a house that’s got the TV on at five in the morning, my mom makes sure of that. The TV goes on at night, after schoolwork, and even then, just for a little bit. One show, maybe two. I mean, the ogre watches TV all night long after dinner, lets it put him to sleep every night. But not us. TV in the morning is not us.
But it’s on.
And there’s a commotion.
There’s voices and whispers and shushing and then more and more of the TV.
I can hear Lizzie, and Neener. Henry just said something, and Robby, too. My mom shushing them. All of them up at five in the morning.
“Shush now. Shush up. Be quiet. Don’t wake her.”
Don’t wake who?
Don’t wake who? Don’t wake me? It has to be me. I’m the only “her” in the house that is not awake.
I stand at the door and listen.
“Shush. Lizzie. I mean it.”
I peek out and Lizzie’s got her hand over her mouth. So does Neener. Robby is sitting down and Henry looks pale as a ghost. Henry looks like someone just sucked all his blood out and replaced it with ice water.
“You gotta tell her, Mom.”
And now I can’t take it.
“What? Tell me what?”
And I’m rushing in the room toward the TV and they’re parting between them, everyone but my mom, who tries to get in my way. In the background, the TV blares. It’s a voice, an excited voice. It’s a news voice. It’s someone on the news.
“Honey, listen, I think we should talk about this—”
But I’m past her. I’m past Mom and I’m past Lizzie and Neener and Henry and Robby. I’m past all of them and in front of the TV, in front of the happy blonde hairstyle and sad news face and concerned, excited words coming out of the newscaster.
And she’s in front of something, too. The newscaster. She’s in front of something with sirens and cars and lights swirling.
She’s in front of Logan’s.
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fifty-nine
Pedaling fast fast fast, this is the moment. One of those movie moments you never think is gonna happen to you, but then it happens to you, and now it’s here.
Pedaling fast fast fast, this is my only chance to stop it. This is the place where it looks like everything is gonna go horribly wrong and there’s no hope, but then because it’s a movie there is hope after all and there is a surprise that changes everything and everyone breathes a sigh of relief and everybody gets to go home and feel good about themselves and maybe fall asleep in the car.
Pedaling fast fast fast, this is the moment, this is the moment I get to remember for the rest of my nights and my days and my looking at the ceiling. Over that hill and down the next, through those trees and past the school.
Pedaling fast fast fast, this is the moment, by the time I get there you can see the lights going blue, red, white, blue, red, white, blue, red, white, little circles diced up in sirens and you think you can stop it but of course you can’t, how could you ever think you could?
Pedaling fast fast fast, this is the moment.
This is the moment, and it’s too late.
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sixty
By the time I skid my bike to a stop the whole town’s on Logan’s street. The neighbors, the cops, the ambulances, everywhere there’s ambulances and everywhere there’s doctors and EMTs and IVs and bodies. There’s bodies.
There’s bodies on the stretchers.
One of the stretchers is going one way, in a hurry, surrounded by EMTs and IVs and orders being barked. The other stretchers are going in the other direction, more slowly, there’s nothing there. No urgency. Nothing.
On the first stretcher, swarming with EMTs, there’s a little sock. A little sock coming out with R2-D2. There’s a little sock coming out and I know that sock because that’s Billy’s sock and he was wearing that sock the night Logan put him to bed and now that sock is soaked with blood and I can see it out the stretcher. Now that sock is soaked in blood now that stretcher is getting put in that ambulance and I’m not the only one seeing that sock and everyone, everyone has their hands to their mouths because everybody is seeing that sock.
And behind that stretcher, glued to that stretcher are Logan’s mom and Logan’s kid brother, still in his camouflage sleeper. And his mom and his brother are hurrying in, hurrying in behind, glued to that stretcher, being carried away, too, lights swirling round and round, fast enough. It’s gone, it’s gone. That means hope. There’s hope for that stretcher.
And now there’s a second stretcher. God, please stop pulling out stretchers from that house but no one is listening no one is listening and here comes another one.
This one is big. A big body, a big, big body and something silent here. And that sheet is coming all the way up. And that stretcher is going slow. But that’s two, that’s two stretchers coming out from that house and that’s enough Lord, please Lord, make that enough but it’s not enough it’s not enough and now the front door opens and it’s one more.
The front door opens and it’s one more.
And there is that hand. And there are those feet. And that is the hand that tucked in those R2-D2 socks under those Star Wars sheets. That is the hand that tucked in that Spider-Man sleeper. That is the hand that reached out to me and pulled me next to him and flew me past the trees on his moped. That is the hand that I dreamed about last night. That is the hand on that body that was supposed to be next to me, on that body that I fell in love with and that head and that heart, too. That is the hand and it’s not moving.
It’s not moving.
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sixty-one
They’re trying to grab me now. My mom and these people, some of them are in their bathrobes. They’re trying to grab me and hold me back and get me out of here. They’re trying to stop me from getting through this police tape. They’re trying to stop me. But they can’t stop me because no one can stop me because that’s Logan. That’s Logan over there on that stretcher and that stretcher is covered in blood and that stretcher is moving away, away but it can’t go away, you can’t take him away, please don’t take him away, we were supposed to be together. And I’m on my knees now and my mom and these people, who are all these people, have me by the shoulders but I’m almost to Logan. I’m almost to Logan. I can touch him. I can touch him and bring him back to life. I can bring him back to life I can just let me near him.
But they’ve got me and my mom’s voice is coming out of somewhere, I can hear her:
“No, no, Anika. No, Anika, please, just, please honey, I’m here. I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
And the stretcher is gone the stretcher is moved past me. The stretcher is going away away and in that door and in that ambulance and that door closes and all is quiet, everything is quiet now, and everything is swirling now and the ambulances and light swirl round and round above me and there’s a voice and a body holding me and there’s a voice and a body keeping me from turning into a trillion tiny pieces and falling into the ground.
“I’m here. I’m here, honey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
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sixty-two
This is the official report in the Lincoln Journal Star:
A Lincoln man distraught over his debts attempted to kill his wife and three children. The wife and two youngest sons survived and were found on the back stairwell of the house at approximately 4:45 a.m. The oldest son and father were killed in the altercation. The police were called after neighbors reported shots fired. The two bodies were found, dead on arrival, on the front landing. The injured son was rushed to the hospital in critical condition. He is now stable after being wounded by a stray bullet. The incident occurred in the Lincoln southeast suburb shortly after 4:00 a.m. A suicide note left open was found on the kitchen counter. In it, forty-two-year-old Steven McDonough expressed remorse about his overwhelming debts and “clearly indicated he was sorry he had to take the lives of his wife and children,” Police Chief Kantor reported. The victim was identified as fifteen-year-old Logan McDonough. It is believed he died in an attempt to save the lives of his mother and younger brothers. The father, Steven McDonough, 42, reportedly had a blood-alcohol level of 0.25% when found. The mother and two surviving sons are recovering and receiving both medical and psychiatric treatment after the incident. All condolences, donations, and cards may be sent to St. Mary’s Community Hospital where a fund for the family is being organized.
It doesn’t say: “Yeah, that would explain why Logan’s dad was always spending tons of money and then acting really weird.”
It doesn’t say: “Yeah, you know, Logan’s dad was actually a total gun freak who had a fucking arsenal of guns and ammo in his basement. Enough to hold off an army of zombies for two weeks straight and maybe that’s not such a good idea when the guy’s obviously got a screw loose.”