“Do you remember a painting about the Normandy Invasion?”
“Like the question on yesterday’s test?”
“Yeah.”
“No. To tell you the truth, I don’t remember much of anything except that I was freakin’ bored and then spent a whole week begging my dad not to take me to any more cultural places. The poor guy was just stir crazy. It was when he’d lost his j—”
Slips like that happened occasionally. My father taking over Ivan’s father’s business inadvertently came up sometimes in our conversations, but we always tried to avoid the topic—or at least cut off the sentence, like Ivan had done this time. We were both aware that our friendship had nothing to do with our fathers and their businesses.
“So, are you going to tell me what the deal is with the museum? And what about those dreams you asked me about in math class? If you hadn’t keyed the teacher’s car, I’d think you weren’t yourself today.”
Nothing would have made me happier than to tell him the truth. Not just because he was my friend, but because I needed to share it with someone and I knew I could trust Ivan. This was not something I could share with just anyone.
“So, how ‘bout we shoot a little pool?” I suggested, trying to change the subject.
We were in front of a pool hall that we played in from time to time—more than we should have, considering it was almost always when we were supposed to be in class.
“OK, but if I kick your butt you can’t cry like a little—”
“Shit! Get down!” I crouched down as fast as I could behind a car that was parked next to the sidewalk.
“Man, you are obviously losing it.”
“Get down here! Hurry up!”
He must have heard a real sense of urgency in my voice because Ivan obeyed without questioning.
“Dude, you want to explain what we’re doing or do you prefer that I draw my own conclusions about your mental state?”
“My parents,” I said, my face pale and my voice trembling, “are right across the street. If they catch me skipping class I’m screwed. What are you doing? Don’t let them see you!”
“Talk about crappy luck.” Ivan was slowly standing up, just high enough so he could peer through the car window. His eyes swept the sidewalk across the street. “I don’t see them.”
“Well, they’re right there . . . by the kiosk on the corner. Get back down here!”
“Calm down. If I don’t see them, they can’t see me, either. What are they doing here, anyhow? Your mother never leaves the house.”
I pressed my back against the car. “They’re going to the doctor. There’s a clinic over there. I’m such an idiot! They told me this morning they were coming down here and I forgot.”
“Damn! You’re right!” Ivan dropped back down to the ground. “Your mother’s over there alone. But I don’t see your father anywhere.”
“You must be blind because they were together. Let’s just wait til they go into the clinic.”
“Is she sick? Or is it for her burns?”
“No, it’s the pregnancy. She’s not feeling well and they’re just going to check her over.”
“Man, I hope it’s nothing serious. I feel so sorry for your mother, ya know . . . with those burns and all . . . She was so pretty.”
A while back I’d shown Ivan a photo from when she was young, from before I was born. I treasured that photo and I kept it in my wallet. Other than that photo I’d never seen my mom’s face before it was deformed from the fire . . . And now it was divided in two; one healthy side and the other severely scarred from burns.
When she kissed my cheek, she always kissed me from the right side of her face so my skin wouldn’t touch the scarred skin on the left side of her face. When I was little I never thought much about it, but I do remember thinking that boys greeted each other by shaking hands and girls by kissing on the right cheek. Later I figured out that she was the only one who never let anyone kiss her left cheek. It was some time after that when I learned that her burns weren’t just on the left side of her face; they also covered the left side of her back and her left arm—which explained why she always wore long sleeves, even in the summer. We never went to the beach or the pool. In fact, my mother hardly ever left the house. She instead devoted herself to reading, to her plants and birds, and to caring for her family. Her devotion to her husband was like nothing I’d ever seen in any other woman.
And that husband—my father—would be sending me back to my old school if he found out I was skipping classes. Or worse. He could buy an entire school and staff it with teachers he hand picked to turn me into the future leader of his financial empire.
“Look and see if they’re gone yet,” I said. Ivan stood up again, as carefully as possible. “If they see you, give yourself up. They can’t punish you.”
“You’re done for . . . Your mom is still there, in front of the door, looking at something off to her side.”
“My father must have gone in ahead of her.”
“Wait . . . Yeah, she’s going in. Let’s get out of here.”
“Not yet.” I yanked on his arm, pulling him back down. “We need to stay here a little longer, just in case they come back out again for some reason.”
“We can go in the pool hall. It’s only a few yards away.”
“Are you crazy? We’re not going to play pool here, right across from the clinic.”
“So what are we gonna do?”
“We’re going back to school,” I said decidedly, “to see if we can copy the Spanish homework we didn’t do.”
“You drive me nuts,” Ivan seethed. “We should’ve just stayed there.” Ivan looked at me as if waiting for me to make a move. I stayed put. “Are we going or not? I’m freezing my butt off.”
“In two minutes.”
“You’re too afraid of your old man.”
“Not of him,” I replied, somewhat irritated. “It’s the way his mind works.”
“I don’t get you. He seems like a great guy. Any other pig would’ve abandoned your mom for getting her face burned up like that, but he stands by her.”
“Yeah, and that’s one of the things that bothers me most about him.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“My father,” I said wearily, “does everything right.”
Lunch hour had already begun when we got back to school. Students were scattered about, filling the cafeteria and school grounds with laughter and lively discussions of how they’d be spending their weekend.
“We can still get in on the second half of the match,” said Ivan excitedly.
“I’ll pass.” My leg didn’t hurt anymore, but I just didn’t feel like playing. “I’m gonna go see if I can swipe somebody’s Spanish homework.”
“Or we could do it afterward. It won’t take that long.”
“Okay, yeah, sure. I was just thinking the same thing.”
I was no good at Spanish. My best subjects were the sciences—since I didn’t have to memorize as much. Memorization was tedious and took way too much time and effort. One person I knew who was good at Spanish was one of the geeks in our class. He was the kind of student that got all depressed if he got less than a ninety-five percent on a test.
I found him sitting on the stairs, looking through his notebook and eating a sandwich.
“How’s it going?” I greeted him as I sat down next to him.
He raised one eyebrow. “Fine.” He closed his notebook and put it in his backpack—which he immediately moved away from me. Ivan came and sat down on the step above us.
“Cool shoes,” I said. “Are they comfortable?”
Geek Boy opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again and shook his head. When he finally spoke, he firmly stated, “I’m not giving you my history notes.”
Ivan laughed. I shook my head amicably. “I wasn’t going to ask you for those. Why would you think that of me?”
“Let’s see . . . last week you stole my folder and when you gave it
back to me they were wrinkled and wet.”
“You knew it was me?”
“I suspected it was.”
“It was an accident. I spilled a little Coke on them but I didn’t mean to ruin them.”
“And you didn’t even ask permission to use them,” the boy went on, his face terribly serious. “Then you told me I couldn’t play on your team because I was worse than a toothache, and said even if I put my soccer shoes on backwards I couldn’t play worse than I already do.”
“I was joking, man. I say that to all—”
“And you embarrassed me in front of Ana. You asked her—right in front of me—how much you’d have to pay her to go out with a brainiac like me who was trapped in a dwarf’s body. And then you expanded on that by making a vulgar reference to the size of a certain part of my anatomy, which brought hysterical laughter from everyone who heard you,” the geek said as he stood up.
“But she noticed you, all because of me! Hey, wait!”
“Don’t bother,” said Ivan, refraining from giving me crap about the scene he’d just witnessed. “He’s done with you. Not surprising.”
“You could have helped me convince him,” I protested.
“There was no way I could help you. You were a jerk to him. I have a theory about that, actually.”
“Not interested.”
Ivan didn’t care. He proceeded to tell me anyway.
“It’s because of your father. You have it in for the little guy because you think he’s perfect, and anyone who reminds you of your father pisses you off. The guy’s a good student; he goes to class, does his homework, gets good grades . . . and he pisses you off, doesn’t he? He’s a dweeb but possesses just the right amount of perfection to bring out your dark side.”
“Absurd.”
Actually, his theory made me think. It was true I hadn’t treated the geek well, but it was all in good fun. I never really meant to hurt him. I’d been on the receiving end of plenty of teasing and it was no big deal. It’s a normal part of growing up. Even so, the idea that my actions were in some way tied to my father’s influence on me was a revolting thought. It made me shudder. And now I couldn’t shake it off. Ivan’s off-the-cuff suggestion made itself at home in my brain and there it would stay. I’d have to thank him later for his psychoanalysis of me—in a way that would make him never want to do it again.
“Well then, looks like we’ll be going to play pool after all.”
“Why do you say that?” Ivan asked.
“Because if we don’t have the homework, I’ll pass on going to Spanish class.”
“So, we end up getting in trouble aft—”
“Hi, guys.”
I looked up and there she was. Claudia was coming down the stairs, her long hair swaying with each step. She was waving at us and smiling, and her brown eyes were gleaming. She was so much prettier than in my dreams.
She sat down beside me.
“Do you guys have the Spanish homework?”
Apparently we all had the same problem today.
“No,” answered Ivan. “But—”
“But we’re doing it right now.” I discreetly drove my elbow into Ivan’s foot. “If you want, we can help you. We’ll be done with it in a few minutes—way before lunchtime is over.”
“Great. You really don’t mind?”
“Of course not,” said Ivan, sounding exaggeratedly friendly. “This guy is really good at Spanish. He was actually helping me just now.”
I elbowed him again, harder this time.
“I’ll go grab my backpack,” said Claudia. “Don’t go away, okay?” She winked at us. Then she skipped up the stairs.
“Are you crazy?” said Ivan. “We have no clue!”
“So we’ll have to improvise. Put forth a little effort and stop goofing around.”
“Yes, sir!”
Ivan imitated a military salute. Claudia was already on her way back down to us, so I decided not to return his feeble attempt to imitate a soldier with a one-finger salute of my own.
“I’m back!” Claudia took out her Spanish book. “You think we’ll have time to finish all the activities?”
“Of course,” I assured her. “Come over here and sit by me. Give me your book and we’ll answer all the questions in there. Then we’ll all copy them down.”
Now came the hard part. I still wasn’t sure how I was going to do the activities, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to help Claudia. Lately I’d had almost no excuse to spend time with her. And if we didn’t spend any time together, Claudia would never get interested in me. So, better to do a crappy job on the homework with her than not do it at all. And, in any case, if she was asking for our help it was because she couldn’t do the homework by herself, either.
“Here.” Claudia handed me the book.
“That’s not it,” I said. “I need the Spanish book.”
Claudia made a face and looked at Ivan, confused. Ivan shrugged his shoulders.
“Are you kidding?” she asked.
“No. We’re doing Spanish homework but you gave me the—”
Something incredible happened when I looked down. The book Claudia was holding in her hands was the Spanish book—the same book whose title a second ago I had read in English. For a moment I felt disoriented. My head was spinning, and then it dawned on me what was going on. When I tilted my head down, the glasses slid down the bridge of my nose a little and I was looking at the book from above the lenses. Seeing it with my own eyes, it was clearly written in Spanish. So I lifted my head so the lenses covered my field of vision. The book of course hadn’t changed but now it looked like it was written in English. I repeated the same trial a couple more times and got the same result.
The glasses were translating the book into English . . . exactly like what happened with the sign in the factory in Taiwan in my dream.
“Is something wrong with your eyes?” asked Ivan. “Why are you moving your head like that?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, taking the book. “Let’s get to it. Here’s the first activity. The right answer for number one is . . .”
I finished it all in less than five minutes. The questions were so clear to me that choosing the correct answer from the four possible options seemed like child’s play.
When class began, I was disappointed the Spanish teacher wasn’t giving us a surprise test. With these glasses I would have gotten a guaranteed A+ with zero effort. Of course, turning in a perfect homework paper was no small thing. I tried to hide my excitement from Ivan, who spent the rest of the day annoyed with me. I waited until he was paying full attention to the teacher before I took off the glasses and examined them.
It didn’t take me long to figure out they weren’t mine. The frame was identical but there was a slight difference in the side pieces. They were shorter and a little more bowed . . . just like the ones the twins gave me in the cotton factory. That was no doubt why Ivan hadn’t noticed any difference.
When Spanish class was over, Claudia thanked me.
“You saved me!”
“It was nothing,” I said, playing it down.
Claudia shook her head. Her hair flowed gently back and forth, then came to rest on her right shoulder.
“I think I know how I can return the favor.”
I loved when her lips curved into a smile.
“I’m listening.”
Claudia came a little closer to me, lowering her voice as if she were going to tell me something—a secret?—no one else should hear. My pulse raced.
“We could go out this weekend,” she suggested. “There’s a movie playing—”
“I love going to movies.” I realized too late I’d responded too quickly. My desire to see Claudia outside of school had caused me to lose my cool. “What’s playing?”
“A romantic comedy.”
“Great! That way we can have a few laughs and then go get something to eat.”
Romantic comedies certainly weren’t my favorite genre but I would
’ve gone to see a documentary about how paint dries if she’d suggested it.
“Perfect. Ana will be so excited. And you’re really gonna like her, you’ll see.”
That wasn’t part of the plan.
“Ana?”
“Yeah. She really likes you a lot. She’s always asking me about you,” Claudia explained. “If we go out together you’ll have a chance to get to know each other and . . . who knows?”
She winked at me. I hid my disappointment as best I could. I came up with absolutely nothing to say, but coerced my mouth into an awkward, forced smile. I had no choice but to accept and keep up appearances until she left.
Ivan, on the other hand, found the whole situation very amusing.
“Major bummer,” he teased. “Show me that face you made when she told you about Ana. I just keep imagining you sitting there, thinking you had it in the bag . . . you and her all alone in the movie theatre and, pow! Take that! She’s hooking you up with her friend. It’s cracking me up!”
“I wouldn’t be laughing if this were happening to you.”
“That’s true. You would ridicule me even more. Like I don’t know you.”
“Go ahead, laugh if you want, but you’re coming with us to the movies.”
Ivan immediately stopped laughing. “C’mon, man. What the heck am I gonna do there?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re going to entertain Ana so I can be with Claudia.”
I gave him a couple pats on the shoulder. He shook my hand off him, took a step back, and shook his head. “No way, dude. You’re not getting me mixed up in this. If—”
“If you help me, I’ll pay you back. I’ll give you the questions that are on the next history test.”
“What?” Ivan cupped his hand around his ear as if he hadn’t heard me clearly. “That’s the worst line of crap you’ve ever tried to feed me. How will you know the questions on the next test?”
“Trust me. Have I ever lied to you?”
“Thousands of times.”
“This time I’m not. Get yourself psyched up for this date with the girls. I’ll find out the questions. Gotta go. I’m gonna go home and take a little nap.”
I woke up in a bad mood.
Get Out of My Dreams Page 6