by Solet, Trina
"I have a cat," Al announced suddenly.
"I saw her," Mark said.
"Dad put her in there so she wouldn't bother us," Mark pointed toward the den. "But she has her feather thing and the ball to play with."
"That's good."
"Let's go see my room," Al said and took Mark by the hand. "You can come too," he said to his dad.
"Oh, can I? Thank you so much," his father mocked him.
"My dad is weird, but he isn't a bad guy," Al said in his defense.
"High praise," Zack grumbled behind them.
Al looked up at Mark as if to say "See?"
Zack stayed by the door as Al showed Mark around the room. He introduced various toys with Zack sometimes prompting him to say who gave them to him as a way of teaching him gratitude.
Coming to his bedside table and the two pictures there, Al said, "That's me and Dad. And that's my mom." He said it in a way Mark had never heard anyone say it before. It was like in his heart, Al wasn't quite sure what the word "Mom" really meant. For a while now, Mark hadn't known either. Was it that face at the door telling him to never come back? Or was it that same face years earlier, leaning over him with concern, then smiling with relief that his fever had gone down? Unlike Mark's mother, Al's mother wasn't part of his memory. She was just someone his father had told him about.
Al gave him almost the same tour of the house as Zack had but found different features of interest like where PJ liked to hide and where she liked to sleep. When they went in the kitchen, Mark noticed the same thing that caught his eye the last time. During that tour, Mark had looked at Zack for an explanation. Zack had said, "I'll let Al tell you about those."
That let Mark know that he was going to be coming back for a second interview with Zack’s son.
Now Al pointed at two glass jars on the kitchen counter, the same ones Mark had been curious about before. They were labeled "Al" and "Dad" and full of pieces of paper with writing on them. Mark didn't even have to ask. Al was ready to tell him all about them.
"That's the Sorry Jars. The big one is Dad's. This one is mine. It's from jam. Dad's is from spaghetti sauce. See?"
"I see. And inside there?" Mark prompted him.
"That's the sorrys."
"Aha."
"It's like a swear jar but with ..." Zack started to explain, but Al cut him off.
"I'm telling him!" Al opened the jar and took out one of the papers from the smaller jar. "Here. This one is from when I pulled PJ's tail. See?" The note said "Sorry PJ" and had a drawing of what might have been a cat. Al pointed at the picture to help Mark decipher it. "That's PJ. That's PJ's tail. It was sticking up, and I pulled on it. It was funny." Al giggled at the memory of his mischief.
"No, it wasn't," his father corrected him. "PJ didn't think it was funny, did she? You do that again, PJ will bite your nose off."
"No, she won't. She wouldn't do that."
"Just try it, and she'll bite it right off."
Al did a pout and furrow combination that expressed a healthy skepticism, indignation and a dose of fear at losing his nose to an angry cat.
"You might be glad that your nose is gone when PJ starts using your pillow as a litter box," Zack threatened some more.
"No!"
"Be nice to PJ. Now tell Mark what happens when we have ten."
"When there's ten of them in Dad's jar, I get to have a scoop of ice cream, and he can't have any. And when I have ten, Dad gets to have a beer, and I don't get to have any."
"OK," Mark said as he and Zack smiled at each other over the fairness of this arrangement.
"What kind of jar do we give Mark?" Al asked his dad.
"Mark doesn't need a jar."
"Yes, he does. For when he's bad and has to say he's sorry."
"Mark..." Zack started to say, but Al was already consulting Mark about this issue.
"You want the peanut butter one?" Al asked seeing a peanut butter jar that was left on the counter. Mark noticed that it was the natural kind not just regular peanut butter.
"It still has peanut butter in it, doesn't it?" Mark pointed out, but Al didn't think that was an obstacle.
"We'll eat it."
"Not now, we won't," his dad told him.
Al went off and looked in the recycling bin. He brought back a pickle jar.
"Here's one. But it's too small." Al held up the jar for his father and Mark to look at. Zack took it from him.
"It's not too small. It's fine. We'll wash it. See, Mark, this is your Sorry Jar." Zack proceeded to wash out the pickle jar then dry it.
Al pointed to a note pad next to the two Sorry Jars.
"You put in a big sorry for big things, and little one for little things, and a medium one for medium things."
"We get it," Zack said.
"What about his punishment when he has ten?" Al asked him.
"We'll eat umm ... cookies and he can't have any," Zack proposed off the top of his head.
"Chocolate chip?" Al asked eagerly.
"Sure, chocolate chip."
Al agreed with a nod.
"I'll put his name on," Al said and tore a piece of paper off the notepad. Then he looked at Mark expectantly. Mark spelled his name slowly while Al painstakingly wrote out each letter. He presented them to Mark for inspection and approval one at a time.
"You write really well," Mark told him.
"I'm almost in first grade," Al said, proud of himself.
Once Mark's name was written crookedly on the paper, Al got some scotch tape. His father took it away from him.
"I've seen you use scotch tape. It's good for a laugh, and that's about it."
"I put sticky tape on PJ once," Al boasted with an evil chuckle.
"And I had to remove it," Zack jumped in to complain about that ordeal and glare at Al. "I almost lost an eye. That was a big sorry wasn't it?" he reminded Al.
Al only laughed some more.
Al went off to get some of his drawings to show Mark. Though Zack was about to offer him the job, Mark beat him to it and took the opportunity to find out where things stood.
"There's a Sorry Jar with my name on it. Does that mean I'm in?" he asked Zack.
"You wouldn't be meeting Al if you weren't in," Zack said.
"I thought this was my second interview to get approval from Al."
"Oh, I knew Al would love you."
Mark smiled and turned away a little embarrassed.
Zack let Al display and explain some of his drawings, which all looked the same and were mostly of PJ. Then he wanted Al to give them some space.
"Go in my office and play with PJ. Mark and I are going to talk."
"Why? What are you going to talk about?" Al asked, making no move to go.
"Grown up stuff. Now do you want PJ to stay all alone in there all day?"
"No."
"Then go."
Al looked at him suspiciously as he left to join the cat in her seclusion.
"Let's do an orientation while I got you here," Zack said after Al was gone. "Al will be in kindergarten for a little while longer." Zack considered that good timing. He didn't want Mark to feel overwhelmed before he had a chance to settle in. "You'll have a few days with Al out of your hair to adjust to the house and ease into things."
Mark looked like he was glad about that too.
"You don't speak Spanish, do you?" Zack asked.
"Only a few words," Mark sounded like he was wondering why he asked.
"I thought I could squeeze some language lessons out of you, but never mind," Zack said. Unfortunately, as he said this, he also made a suggestive squeezing motion with his hand.
Mark raised an eyebrow, and Zack quickly put away his hand. Mark smiled at him. His smile was just too much. Zack hoped he wasn't blushing.
Moving the conversation back into the kitchen, Zack came to the real reason he wanted Al out of earshot. He told Mark more about Kelly and her family. He wanted Mark to know what had been her greatest fear for Al, and what was
now Zack's fear.
"No one in Kelly’s family knows that she had a child, much less that I adopted him. And it has to stay that way," Zack said to him. "It’s unlikely that anyone will ever approach you. But it's kind of a nightmare of mine that someone from Kelly's family will show up and try to take Al, either legally or just grab him," Zack admitted.
"I know that the most important part of my job is keeping Al safe," Mark said. Zack could see that he was taking this as seriously as he wanted him to.
"Obviously this is about Kelly's father, but it applies to anyone who might claim to be a relative or even a friend," Zack explained.
"Unless I hear from you that it's OK, no one goes near Al," Mark said to show Zack he understood. It was what Zack needed to hear.
"Oh, and don't ever be late picking up Al from anywhere. I have an issue with that," Zack said with a frown, and Mark nodded in agreement again. "You can always call me to go get him if you can't make it on time. I'm not going to be in the middle of surgery, am I?" Zack said. He had already told Mark where he worked and that he was a glorified accountant not an architect. Mark had given him a sympathetic smile for having such an unsexy job.
Now Zack moved on to less serious matters. He pointed out a paper under a magnet on the fridge.
"There's our shopping list. Al is not allowed to write on it. You and I will probably both end up going food shopping. Just check what we normally buy. No sodas, no sugary drinks, no sugary anything, no junk food. If you have to have it for yourself, keep it out of Al's hands. Label it or something."
"I don't mind eating healthy. If I want junk food, I can grab something at a vending machine at the college."
Zack made a face at the thought of Mark eating out of a vending machine.
"I know, I am sucking all the fun out of that kid's life," Zack had to admit then he continued with his instructions.
They lingered in the kitchen some more, going over minor issues. Mark said he could cook on the days he didn’t have classes. He had already agreed to do some chores like laundry and taking out the garbage.
"And the litter box?" Zack said sheepishly and cringed. But Mark agreed again.
"You are my hero. I'll deal with it in the evening since that's your time off," Zack promised. "Just keep it clean during the day."
They went back to the living room and Mark pointed to the TV.
"How much TV can Al watch?" Mark asked as if he had guessed that Zack would be strict about that too.
"OK. I am a monster. But only half an hour. But that's in the evening anyway. You'll have most evenings off. Once you drop off Al at Little Rainbow, you are on your own time until next morning." Zack had already told him about Al spending his afternoons at Little Rainbow. Mark had agreed to schedule his classes in the late afternoons and evenings.
"And video games?" Mark asked though he looked like he knew what kind of answer to expect.
"No video games. If you want to play, try and make it look really boring and unpleasant," Zack said.
"Sure thing," Mark said while giving Zack an "Are you kidding me?" look.
"Make yourself at home anywhere except my bedroom and my office. Feel free to study or read whenever you get the chance during the day. Al doesn't need constant attention, He might want it, but he doesn’t need it," Zack said to him. Then he asked, "Are you OK for money to pay for your classes? I can give you an advance if you need it."
Mark looked surprised at the offer. He smiled at Zack before he told him that Mia and Frank had given him a bonus that covered all the classes he was taking over the summer.
Zack took him through to the garage next and showed him his old Prelude.
"This car is yours to use. It's my old car from college. I just don't have the heart to get rid of it. It was my high school graduation gift from my dad. But it's perfect now because you can drive it. And I mean you can use it for whatever you need not just to drive Al."
"Are you sure?" Mark asked probably worried about the car's sentimental value.
"I'd rather have you drive it than have it sitting in the garage," Zack told him. He liked the idea of Mark driving this good old car, sentimental value and all.
"I'll take good care of it," Mark vowed. "And I'll pay for gas if I use it for my own stuff."
"No. Gas is on me. Just keep it reasonable. And let me know if any repairs come up, obviously. I'll be paying for those too."
"Thank you," Mark said and looked at the car appreciatively.
"No problem. Think of it as the company car."
After that Mark said he was expected at Mia's for dinner and he left. It was decided that on Sunday, he would be moving in.
As Zack pictured Mark driving his old Prelude, he thought back to all the times he had fooled around in that car. He did his best to separate the two images, but it wasn't easy. But all the sweaty action that car had seen wasn't the reason he kept it all these years. The reason he couldn't give it up was because he remembered too well his father handing him a gift box with the keys in it. That was right before he went off to college. It was one of the last times he got to hug his dad.
Zack was surprised that he was so comfortable with the idea of a stranger driving that car. Of course if he was willing to let Mark take care of Al, the least he should trust him with was an old car full of memories.
Chapter 5
"PJ is awake! I'm awake! Why are you sleeping?" Al yelled, waking Zack.
"Because I'm not a kid or a cat," Zack grumbled and pulled the covers up as he curled away from the voice that now said "Daaaaad!"
That voice was worse than any alarm clock. And worse yet, there was no turning it off as it intruded into Zack's sleep way too early in the morning. He turned away from it, but that didn't stop Al. He climbed on the bed and draped himself over Zack's shoulder. Zack refused to open his eyes. A small boy's weight was negligible. He could sleep through that.
"PJ is awake even, and she sleeps all the time!" he yelled again, this time right into Zack's ear.
"Al, go away," he mumbled. Maybe if he didn't move his mouth too much, he wouldn't really wake up. It would be like talking in his sleep.
"PJ needs to go out," Al said, pulling on Zack's ear.
"We talked about this. Cats don't need to go out. She has a litter box for that." Zack buried his face in the pillow in frustration.
"She wants to go in the back yard. She's scratching at the glass door, and I'm not allowed to open it." All was now poking Zack in the back with his finger.
"Good. Don't open it." At least Al wasn't breaking any rules for that damn cat.
"There's a bird."
"What? A bird? Al, go play with PJ and the bird or whatever," Zack said trying to get rid of the little pest and go back to sleep.
"I can! I can go in the back yard by myself, just me and PJ?" Al sounded excited as he jumped off Zack's bed. In turn, Zack jumped awake.
"No. What?"
"The bird is in the back yard. I can go play with it and PJ?" Al said annoyed that Zack was so slow to understand.
"No, no." Zack hung his head as Al frowned in confusion and disappointment. Birds were always taunting PJ. They would come flying down to peck at worms and bugs in the lawn while PJ pawed at the glass, trapped inside. And PJ was an excitable cat just as Al was an excitable kid. Either one would have been too much for Zack to handle. Together they were a nightmare.
"Al, what day is it?" Zack asked. He wanted to remind Al that it was Sunday and that he was supposed to let him sleep late.
Instead, Al reminded him of something else, "It's Sunday, and we're going to see the Jumping Dogs." With those terrible words, Al ran out of the room yelling happily about the Jumping Dogs.
"Oh, God. No," Zack groaned. Now he wished even more that he wasn't awake.
Al had been told by one of the kids at Little Rainbow about a special show at the fair. There would be all kinds of performers, acrobats, jugglers, clowns and the Jumping Dogs of course. The last attraction got Al's attention, and he pes
tered Zack until he agreed to take him. Now Zack was committed to this outing instead of getting to lie around the house in his robe all Sunday until it was time to go get Mark. Zack would have to thank whichever inconsiderate child had told Al about the show and whichever inconsiderate parent had taught that child to speak.
Al had been calling Zack repeatedly in a weird reversal of their usual roles in the morning.
"I'm coming," Zack mumbled petulantly, sounding a little too much like a pouting child for his own liking. First he checked his phone for any messages, and answered one or two. He finally noticed that Al was giving him an exasperated look.
"It's ten after twelve," Al yelled.
"I know how to read a clock. I'm the one who taught you," Zack reminded him.
"Hurry up. We'll miss it."
"Can't have that," Zack said to himself.
"We'll be late," Al said.
The show started exactly at 1:00, and Zack had made the mistake of teaching Al how to tell time.
"You're too bossy for such a short guy." He put his hand on top of Al's head and wondered if he needed to make a new mark on the height chart in the hall. Seeing Al open his mouth, Zack warned him. "And don't say you are a kid. That's no excuse."
"Let's go!" Al said instead.
"You want to drive? Or maybe you want to walk? If I'm driving, I need my keys." Zack went in search of them, and Al helped him by telling him to hurry up.
Car keys in hand Zack found Al waiting for him by the front door with his hand on the door knob. Zack recognized the impatient pose. For a second Kelly was standing there waiting for Zack or Zack's dad to drive her to the mall to meet her obnoxious friends.