by Beth Goobie
“How d’you get the can up to your mouth? D’you need help?” Gabe asked.
Even Tiff looked uncomfortable. “Gabe, you’re being a dork,” she said.
“Hey — a stereo!” Gabe said quickly and stood up. I could tell he was embarrassed and wanted to change the subject. He crouched down in front of Darren’s stereo and turned it full blast. Then he came back to the table and yelled, “This is great!”
Darren didn’t look at me, but I could feel him sizing up the situation. He picked up his pop and drank it, not seeming to notice the way Gabe stared.
“You’re a real pro!” Gabe yelled at him. The music was so loud, we were all yelling. If Darren hadn’t been there, I would have been having fun. But something in his face kept me from laughing at Gabe’s jokes. Instead, my brother was making me think about what Gabe was actually saying. Was Gabe having a sub-zero day, or did he always sound like this?
Darren waited for a break in the music, then said, “I’m going to study.”
He stopped by the stereo and turned the volume down. Then he disappeared into his bedroom. Right away, Gabe went over and turned the volume back up.
“Gabe! He has to study,” I said, getting up.
Gabe pulled my face to his and kissed me. “You’re beautiful,” he said.
This kind of took my mind off the stereo. In fact, it made me want to turn it up more. Then the door buzzer went again. I could hardly hear it over the music. I waited for Darren to answer it. When he didn’t, I pulled myself out of Gabe’s hug and opened the door.
“Hello,” I said.
The woman standing in the hall was about Mom’s age. She had that Mom Look on her face. Right away she started yelling, but then she had to because of the music.
“I’m the landlady here! What d’you think you’re doing with all that noise? This is a nice quiet building. No one who makes a lot of noise stays here for long!” she shouted.
“Sorry!” I yelled back.
Behind me, the noise suddenly cut off. I turned around to see Gabe standing by the stereo and grinning at us.
“Hey, we were just leaving,” he said.
“And don’t come back,” the woman snapped and walked away.
Gabe shrugged and said, “Guess we were giving her a little headache.”
Tiff snorted and stood up. She and Gabe came over to the door.
“Coming with us, babe?” Gabe said into my ear.
“I should ask Darren,” I said. I wondered what my brother was thinking about all of this.
“Hey, you’re on your own now, right?
And it’s a Saturday,” Gabe said.
Gabe is so gorgeous. How was I supposed to say I should do my homework with his mouth one inch from mine?
“I want you to,” Gabe said softly.
Unpacking could wait. I slid Darren’s extra key off the hook and walked out.
Chapter Three
I got in late and Darren was asleep. I hadn’t made the bed yet, so I ended up sleeping in my clothes. When I woke, it tasted as if something really ugly had crawled into my mouth. I dragged myself to the bathroom and started to brush my teeth. Then I realized I was using Darren’s comb. This was definitely going to be a problem day.
Darren’s aide had already come and gone. Someone comes in every morning to help him get up and going. Usually the aide also made meals, but as of yesterday, that was my job. Only I hadn’t been here last night to cook supper. Suddenly I wondered what Darren had eaten. I felt so bad, I wanted to blend in with the wall and stay there forever. Slowly, I walked into the kitchen. There Darren sat, reading the newspaper and drinking a coffee the aide must have made for him.
“Sorry about last night. What did you eat?” I asked.
“I cooked the pizza. Took a while, but I managed,” Darren said, not looking up. More and more, I wanted to become part of a wall. Any wall would do.
“And I’m sorry about being late with your breakfast,” I added softly.
Darren gave me a sideways smile. “So, how’s life with my new roommate?”
I dug in for a lecture about getting in late, but Darren went back to the newspaper. I smiled and said, “Ready to make your breakfast. Eggs?”
“Two, please. There’s some bacon. And could you throw in some toast?” Darren asked.
“Cooking for you is going to be a full-time job,” I groaned. Darren read while I cooked. I loved the smell of bacon and eggs frying, but Mom had always made them for me. I tried to remember how she poured in the oil and waited for it to heat up. I almost had my nose in the frying pan, I was watching everything so closely. I chewed on my lip and hoped nothing would burn. But the food looked pretty normal when I set our plates on the table.
“This is great,” said Darren after the first bite. I figured he was probably lying, but I still beamed.
“You going to work out?” I asked.
“I might. You going to unpack?” Darren asked.
I got stiff. I couldn’t help it. I was so used to Mom and Dad wanting to know about every minute of my day. I stabbed at my eggs and said, “Maybe I like my room the way it is.”
“It’s your room. I do need to talk to you about something though,” Darren said.
“What?” I sighed loudly. So this was it — Showdown Number One.
“Dime, you look like I’ve got a gun to your head. Relax, okay? We just need to figure out how we can live together,” said Darren. He smiled, but my stomach had gone through a change of state — from stomach to rock.
“You mean rules. Your rules. You just want to figure out how to control me,” I snapped. I didn’t like my voice sharp as a knife, but I couldn’t help it.
Darren looked surprised. With a small frown, he said, “No, not control. Dime, we’re sharing the same space. We’re bound to bump into each other. I thought we could discuss what you like and what I like. That way we can figure out how to make it all work.”
My arms were crossed over my chest. I tried to get them uncrossed, but they felt stuck. I felt stuck, as if I was glued to a bad attitude I couldn’t get rid of. I knew Darren was different from my parents, but right then he felt the same to me. It felt as if he was telling me: This is the way you comb your hair. This is the way you tie your shoes. This is the way you brush your teeth.
“I’m old enough to live my own life. No rules,” I muttered.
“That’s a rule,” Darren said.
I stared down at my plate. He was right. It looked as if you just couldn’t get away from them.
“Why are you mad at me?” Darren asked, his voice soft.
I looked at him in surprise. Then I shook my head and said, “I’m not.”
I could see he was thinking about me pretty hard. It made me nervous.
“Yes, you are,” Darren said quietly.
That was when the phone rang. I picked it up to find Mom on the other end.
“Dime?” she yelled. Her voice was so loud, she just about took out my ear. One word and she was already in full combat mode.
“Yeah?” I said. I was trying to keep cool. It felt as if she was right in my face.
“Where were you last night? When I called at 10 p.m., Darren said you weren’t available. I know what that means where you’re concerned, young lady. If this doesn’t work out with Darren, you’ll come straight back home. I’m not letting you ruin his life,” yelled Mom. She sounded ready to lecture me for about a week.
“Mom, you sound like I’ve got a gun to your head. Relax,” I said, giving Darren a grin. He grinned back.
“You listen to what your brother says,” Mom said, as if I hadn’t said anything.
“Yup. Gotta go. Want to talk to Darren?” I asked, but I didn’t wait for her answer. I could hear her calling my name as I handed the phone over to Darren.
I showered and changed. When I came out of the bedroom, I put the dishes in the dishwasher. Mom finally let Darren off the phone just as the door buzzer rang.
“Oh, that’s Gabe. I’ve got a driving l
esson,” I said. I grabbed my jacket.
“When will you unpack?” asked Darren.
“I dunno. I’ll be back to make your lunch. Promise,” I said, kissing his cheek.
The apartment hallway stretched ahead of me, quiet and empty. I was free to go anywhere I wanted— no parents, no problems. Life felt great, and it felt even greater when I got outside. There was Gabe, sitting on his bike by the curb. One glimpse of him and that wave pool feeling rippled through me. Gabe was so gorgeous. I just couldn’t figure out why he wanted to hang around with me.
“Hey, Dime,” he said.
I kissed him. That took quite a while. Then I put on the helmet he gave me and got on behind him. As we rode down Henderson Highway, I thought, See, Gabe doesn’t try to run my life. He’s just a great kisser, that’s all.
When we got out of Winnipeg and onto a quiet road, Gabe stopped. I got into the driver’s position. Gabe liked this. I had to keep my hands on the handle-grips and he had to keep his hands on me. It was fun, but it made it hard to concentrate. I listened to him point out the different bumps and knobs on the dash. I knew they were important, but he had his chin on my shoulder. He was sort of breathing onto my cheek. I didn’t want to flunk out here — not on a Kawasaki Ninja. I tried repeating the information back to him.
“No, no, no, Dime. You’ve got it all wrong. Weren’t you listening?” Gabe asked.
I went stiff. I hate it when someone says “no” more than once. Like, I got it the first time, right?
“Lucky I’m checking to make sure I have it right, huh?” I grinned.
“I’ll explain it again,” Gabe sighed.
He had to explain everything, right down to how the nuts and bolts fit together. But he made it sound so complicated. By the time he was done, it felt like it would be easier to fly a supersonic jet. Finally, he settled back and said, “Go for it.”
As I hit the starter button, I was chewing my lip. I had to get this right. I’d gotten most of it, but I had a habit of forgetting the most important parts. Like lighting the Bunsen burner before starting a science experiment. Like turning off the stove element after boiling water for tea. I get nervous around people and it makes my mind fall apart. I can cover pretty well — no one expects a kid who looks tough to scare easy. I bet my parents never guessed how bad I shook after our fights. I’d go sit on my bed, hold my stuffed rabbit, and just shake and shake. Whenever I saw that look on their faces — the one that went with the one-hundred-and-one questions — the shaking always started. But I never let them see it. I kept it deep inside, then took it up to my room and let it loose.
But this morning, things were going pretty well. Everything seemed to be under control. I was sitting in the driver’s position, with Gabe hanging on behind me. We roared by farmhouses with dogs barking in the driveways. I even passed several carloads of dressed-up families coming back from church. Then I saw a stop sign ahead. Just beyond it, cars were zooming past. It looked like we were headed straight for a major road.
Stop, I thought. I’ve got to stop. How do I stop this thing?
Suddenly all the knobs looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. It was as if I’d never seen them before.
I can’t do it. I’m gonna mess up. Gabe will hate me, I thought.
I blanked out. My brain shattered into a thousand pieces and flew away.
“Brake! Brake! Brake!” Gabe kept yelling. He started slamming his helmet against the back of mine to get me to wake up. Finally something clicked, and I remembered. We stopped just on the edge of the major road. A car whizzed by.
Gabe doesn’t worry too much about causing a scene. He got off, hopping mad and yelling, “Get off my bike! Get off my bike! You’re crazy, nuts or just plain stupid! You got some kind of a death wish?”
I slid off the bike and watched him climb on. He yelled some more, then kicked the starter and roared off down the highway. It got really quiet. As I stood there alone, the shaking started. I sat down with my back to the stop sign and took off my helmet. I didn’t have my stuffed rabbit, so I hugged myself. I kept hearing different voices in my head — Mom’s, Dad’s and Gabe’s. They were all yelling Stupid! Crazy! No good! Death wish! Their voices kept getting louder and louder, mixing together until my head hurt. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry. I wasn’t going to let it hurt. I was going to get up and walk all the way back to Winnipeg. I’d show Gabe I didn’t need him. I didn’t need him or my parents or anyone.
That’s when I heard the roar of the motorcycle. Relief hit me so hard, I did start to cry then. Gabe wasn’t going to leave me alone. He was coming back to get me. Maybe I was stupid and a no-good nutcase, but he still liked me.
I wiped my eyes and hoped my makeup hadn’t smeared. Gabe stopped in front of me. He took off his helmet.
“Hey, babe, going my way?” he grinned weakly.
I stared at my feet and said, “Sorry. I guess I blew it.”
“I’ll get over it. C’mon, get on,” he said.
We kissed and made up. Then we rode back, me hanging onto him pretty tight. I was relieved we were okay. Still, something in me kept saying, He took off and left me alone out there. Why didn’t he say he was sorry?
Chapter Four
When I got back, I started lunch. I decided to make Kraft Dinner and hot dogs. I’m not much of a cook — my specialty is boiled eggs. That’s as good as it gets. Reading the wiener package, I got nervous. There were no instructions.
“Darren, when you make hot dogs, do you boil the water and then drop in the wieners? Or do you put the wieners in cold water first and then boil them?” I asked.
“I dunno,” said Darren, looking puzzled. We started to laugh.
“I guess I’ll just wing it,” I said nervously.
Darren got out his books and started studying at the kitchen table. This made me more nervous. I wanted him to go into his bedroom where he wouldn’t see any mistakes I made. But it was his apartment. So I fussed around the stove, watching everything carefully and hoping he’d keep quiet if anything blew up. To my surprise, nothing went wrong. The wieners cooked and the noodles boiled as if they did this every day. It was only after I’d set everything on the table that I noticed how relaxed I was. Then I realized why. Darren hadn’t yelled at me. He hadn’t put me down once. My eyes stung and I blinked fast.
“What’s the matter?” Darren asked.
“I like it here,” I said.
He smiled and said, “I like you being here, too. And while you’re here, could you get me a beer? It goes great with Kraft Dinner.”
“Sure,” I grinned and almost skipped to the fridge. I set the beer on the table next to Darren’s hand. He leaned over and opened the bottle with his teeth.
“No hands,” he grinned. His teeth are chipped from doing this, but no one can talk sense into him.
“You look like such a mild-mannered quad,” I said.
“Super Quad,” he said.
That afternoon, I unpacked. Darren headed off to the gym to work out, so the apartment was quiet. Times like this, I get to thinking about the accident. It happened when Darren and I were coming back from an all-night curling bonspiel. I was asleep in the back seat. It was still dark, and Darren ran into a moose that had walked onto the road. The moose came through the windshield, and the car rolled into a field. I was unconscious for a while. When I came to, I found Darren still in his seat, twisted up funny. His face and arms were cut up, so there was blood. I sat there holding his hand, then ran to the road when I heard a car coming. It was at least another hour before the ambulance arrived. Sometimes I feel as if I’m still sitting there in the dark, hoping and praying my brother will live.
Of course, he did live. We found out that he’d broken his neck, but not his glasses. Darren seemed to be the only person in our family who didn’t change after that. He went through the rehab program and learned to hold a spoon with the Universal Cuff. Slowly, he got back some use of his hands so he could hold things with his palms. He started univ
ersity and learned to drive a van with touch controls. Sometimes it seems like he went on as if the accident never happened.
Thinking about it, I started banging things around in my room. How could Darren just pick up and go on living? For me, it felt as if there was still a bad accident waiting around every corner. And when my parents looked at me, I knew what they were thinking. You’ve always been a problem, Dime. You were already a failure. It should have been your neck that was broken, not our boy’s.
Of course, they never said any of this out loud. In our family, we don’t talk about things — we yell. Or we look at each other and think things loudly inside our heads.
That evening was sort of peaceful. When Mom called, Darren handled her call. Gabe called a little later, and I handled him. I made hamburgers and even got some studying done. That night, I lay awake in bed, thinking about the evening. There had been no arguments, no yelling, no putdowns. Did it ever make me feel different. It helped me sleep, too. The next morning, as I stood at the bus stop with Tiff, I actually felt awake. This was something new for me — mornings look a lot better after nine hours of sleep.
We got to school with fifteen minutes to spare and headed for the student parking area. Right away I saw Gabe on his bike, talking to kids sitting on the curb. I swung on behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist.
“Morning,” I said. Everyone watched us. At our school, a lot of action went on around Gabe’s Ninja.
“Hey, Gabe,” said Tiff, leaning over the front of his bike.
“Yeah?” Gabe asked, but he was more interested in playing with the hole in the left knee of my jeans.
“Isn’t that your ex over there?” Tiff asked, pointing.
I glanced toward the door. Our school has a different entrance for each social group. There’s one for the preppies, the jocks, the skaters, and the headbangers. Gabe’s ex was standing in the headbangers’ entrance, wearing a tight Megadeth T-shirt. She was glaring at me as if she was planning the rest of my life. It looked short.
“Yeah, that’s her,” said Gabe. He grinned and started kissing me.