‘Let’s go,’ I said.
‘Will we see you next week?’ Amanda asked. But I was already out the door.
In the car on the way home, Cosmo was humming. Actually humming.
‘I don’t see what you’re so happy about,’ I finally said. ‘You lost all your games.’
‘So? I’ll get better. Besides, it’s just for fun.’
‘You mean, you’re going back?’ This surprised me and annoyed me all at once.
He shrugged. ‘Sure. And you are, too.’
‘No, I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are.’
‘No. I’m not.’
‘What? Baby doesn’t want to go back because Baby wost his games?’ He said this in a baby voice. ‘C’mon, Ambrose, you’re made of tougher stuff than that.’
‘It was dumb. The people were dumb. Did you see Fatty all dressed up in pink? She looked like a giant cupcake.’
‘What does that have to do with anything? And no offense, but you’re wearing a hat with a pom-pom. And I’ve avoided mentioning your purple cords.’
‘What’s wrong with purple cords?’ I loved my purple cords. I’d found them at Value Village and they were a perfect fit.
Cosmo opened his mouth to say something, then he closed it again. ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with your purple cords.’
‘I think they’re classy,’ I said.
‘Look, I saw how you played against me. You’re good. Those other people just happen to be better. For now.’
‘You only want to go back because you’ve got a crush on Amanda.’
He grinned. ‘Call it what you want. She was cute in the extreme.’
‘She’s probably got a boyfriend.’
‘She doesn’t. I asked.’
‘So you go back. You don’t need me.’
‘Actually, I do. You’re my beard.’
‘Your what?’
‘My beard – my excuse.’ He hesitated for a second, then he confessed, ‘I told her I was your Big Brother.’
‘My big brother? We don’t look remotely alike.’
‘Not that kind of big brother. A Big Brother. You know, the agency that matches up fatherless boys with guys who want to spend time with them. So they have a male role model.’
I laughed really hard. I couldn’t help myself. I laughed so hard, a snot-bubble came out my nose and I had to rub it on the sleeve of my coat.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘The thought of you, as my role model.’
‘It’s not that funny.’
‘Au contraire.’
‘C’mon, Ambrose. Go back with me next week.’
‘No.’
‘So is this the way you operate? Whenever the going gets tough, Ambrose runs the other way?’ He said this in a baby voice again.
‘Shut up,’ I said.
‘Good comeback,’ he retorted.
But then he did. Shut up, that is.
Neither of us said another word the rest of the way home.
15
ROIVSTI
sit, sort, visor, stir, sir, rots, riots, trios, iris, sort, visit
VISITOR
BUT I GUESS a guy should never say ‘never’ because, by the following Wednesday, I was even boreder, which I realize is not a word. But if some of the words used at the Scrabble Club were actual words, then I vote that ‘boreder’ should be one too.
When my mom left for work, she said she might have a drink with Jane again. ‘I’ll be home before midnight, and I’ll have my cell.’
‘Great,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be having another wild and crazy night at home with me, myself, and I, choosing what show to watch in our one-channel universe.’
Her face crumpled and I regretted my words instantly.
‘I’m doing the best I can, Ambrose.’
‘I know, Mom,’ I said quickly. ‘I know.’
After she’d gone, I played solitaire until I heard Mr and Mrs E leave for their weekly dance night at the Greek Cultural Center, then I went outside and sat in the passenger seat of Cosmo’s Camaro.
If he was surprised to see me when he stepped out at ten to seven, he didn’t show it. He just got into the driver’s seat, started the car, and said, ‘You pay for both of us this week.’
I did even worse that night, losing all three games, including my game against Cosmo, which was truly humiliating.
‘I had the worst letters ever,’ I told him, on the way home. ‘A monkey could have beat me with the letters I had.’
Cosmo whistled under his breath. ‘Wow, little friend. I wouldn’t have pegged you for a sore loser.’
But even though I lost, something was beginning to click. I was starting to see the board differently, or at least, how some of my opponents, like Mohammed and Joan, looked at the board. And even though I was grumpy at the end, I definitely wasn’t bored.
Now, during my evenings at home alone, I studied words. Amanda had photocopied some lists for me, and I studied all the two-letter words, plus ‘U’-less ‘Q’ words, and ‘vowel dumps’, words that use up a lot of vowels in a single turn.
On our fourth visit to the Scrabble Club, in early March, I won a game against Joan, thanks to playing the word ‘QWERTYS’ on a triple word score, the ‘S’ placed at the end of her word ‘SKUNK’. I beat her 303 to 299, mainly because she had some tiles left over that were added to my score, but I didn’t care. I still beat her, and I got my first-ever score in the 300s. The victory was so sweet, I leaped up and did a little dance on my chair, waving my arms around and chanting, ‘Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.’
‘Cool your jets, smarty-pants,’ Joan said to me.
‘At least I fit into my pants,’ I said, under my breath.
When I looked at her, her face had gone kind of slack. For a moment, I wondered if she’d heard me.
But I decided she hadn’t. She was just miffed that she’d lost against a twelve-year-old boy-wonder.
On our way home that night, Cosmo was humming again, even though he’d had another 3 to 0 losing streak.
‘What are you doing Friday night?’ he asked.
‘Me? Nothing. Why?’
‘I invited Amanda to go bowling with us.’
‘Us?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I hate bowling.’ I didn’t add that I hated all sports.
‘You’ve got something better to do?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
The truth was, getting to go anywhere on a Friday night, even bowling, sounded better than another night at home watching CBC’s ‘The National’, their nightly newscast with Peter Mansbridge. Not that I had anything against Peter Mansbridge. In fact, I liked him a lot. His face and manner gave me comfort. Sometimes I even fantasized that he was my dad and that he would walk through the door around the same time as my mom. It was in a different, much bigger house that had rooms with names like ‘den’ and ‘media room’ and ‘solarium’, and he would be tired after another night of delivering the news to Canadians, but not so tired that he wouldn’t have time to chat with me about my day and make a date to play catch in the backyard. Then he and my mom would tuck me in and kiss me good night and go into their own bedroom, holding hands.
But then I would feel guilty about imagining anyone, other than my actual father, as my father.
‘There’s something you should know,’ Cosmo was saying. ‘She thinks it’s one of our Big Brother activities.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Why did you ever tell her that?’
‘I don’t know. It was dumb. I wanted her to think—’
‘That you’re better than you are.’
He laughed and gestured to himself. ‘Can you blame me?’
‘No,’ I said, which, for some reason, made him laugh harder. ‘Does she know you smoke?’
‘She’s seen me smoking, yes.’
‘Does she know you’re unemployed and living at home?’
‘She knows I’m between jobs and temporarily staying with my
parents.’
‘Does she know you’re an ex-con and an ex-drug addict?’
‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘And you’re not going to tell her. I’ll tell her when I’m ready.’
We were quiet for a moment, then he said, with a hint of impatience, ‘Look, are you in or out?’
I was in, no matter what. But I saw a little window of opportunity and I ran with it. ‘I’m in on one condition,’ I said.
‘What’s that?’
‘You teach me self-defense.’
‘Forget it.’
‘You said yourself I should learn.’
‘I meant a karate teacher, or tae kwon do, or something like that.’
‘We could never afford it. Plus, even if we could, Mom would never let me. She thinks it’s violent.’
‘Then she wouldn’t want me to teach you, either.’
‘Just a few moves? Please.’
He sighed as we pulled into the driveway. ‘Well, I guess you of all people should learn to defend yourself.’
‘What do you mean – me of all people?’
He looked me right in the eye. ‘Face it, Ambrose. You rub a lot of people the wrong way.’
‘I do not.’ But I knew I did. ‘So it’s a deal?’
‘Deal,’ he said.
We shook on it. He had an extremely firm grip. I got out of the car, shaking the feeling back into my hand. I was just about to head around the side of the house to our apartment when Mrs E stepped onto the porch, all dressed up in a matching floral skirt and blouse. I hadn’t even noticed their car parked in the driveway. They weren’t supposed to be home from the Greek Cultural Center yet. Thinking fast, I ducked out of sight, using the passenger side of the Camaro as my shield.
‘Ma, you’re home early,’ said Cosmo.
‘Your father has a bad stomach,’ she said, as she hurried down the steps to join him. ‘That man, he came looking for you. Your old friend, Silvio.’
Cosmo didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘What did he want?’
‘He said he needed to talk to you. I don’t like him, Cosmo.’ Mrs E sounded upset. ‘You told me you don’t hang around with people like him anymore.’
‘I don’t, Ma. I swear.’
‘He asked me to give you this.’ There was a brief silence, then the sound of someone scrunching up paper. I saw the balled-up wad hit the pavement on the driver’s side.
‘C’mon, Ma. Let’s go inside.’
I waited till I heard their front door close. Then I stood up and dashed around to the other side of the car and scooped up the ball of paper.
Once inside our apartment, I locked the door and got into my rocket-ship pajamas. Then I smoothed out the note.
There was only one word on it, and it wasn’t a word I’d ever seen before, even at the Scrabble Club: ‘UOME.’
It wasn’t until later, when I was lying in bed staring at my glow-in-the-dark stars and waiting for my mom to come home, that I understood.
UOME. You owe me.
16
STRASBE
brass, stare, best, bears, bras, bass, rest, beast, bare
BREASTS
MRS E LOOKED at me suspiciously when I showed up at their back door the next day at five, looking for Cosmo. Her hands were covered in flour and she was wearing an apron. I could see bread dough rising on the counter behind her.
‘What are you two up to?’ she asked, as we waited for Cosmo to appear.
‘Cosmo’s going to teach me self-defense,’ I said. ‘But maybe we don’t need to mention it to my mom.’
She studied me for a moment. ‘You’re not doing anything naughty?’
‘No, Mrs E. You have my word.’
‘Then I see nothing.’ She winked at me and went back to her baking, just as Cosmo appeared. He was wearing a tank top and sweatpants.
‘I hope you’re not going to wear that on our date with Amanda,’ I said, as we headed into the backyard.
‘Our date?’ He cuffed me on the top of my head, but not too hard. ‘Tell you what. I won’t wear these if you won’t wear your hat. Or your purple cords.’
‘I told you, I like my purple cords. And my hat.’
Cosmo took a deep breath, but all he said was, ‘I know you do.’
It was surprisingly mild for March, and the sun kept breaking through the clouds. Purple and yellow crocuses were sprouting up all over their garden. Cosmo had strung up an old punching bag to the branch of a maple tree. He held on to it while I punched. I’d always wanted to hit a punching bag, but I was surprised at how much it hurt. It hurt a lot.
‘It’ll get easier as you build your strength,’ Cosmo said.
I looked at his muscular arms, then at my own toothpick arms, and I felt a sudden wave of hopelessness. ‘Maybe we shouldn’t bother,’ I said.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s like improving your Scrabble game. It takes time. Now get down and give me twenty-five push-ups.’
Twenty-five push-ups just about killed me, but we were far from over.
‘Now I’m going to teach you a few blocks,’ he said.
‘I don’t want to learn blocks. I want to learn how to fight back,’ I said, although, at that moment, all I really wanted to do was retreat to my room and have a nap.
‘One step at a time, Ambrose. Now, try to punch me in the face.’
‘I can’t do that—’
‘Sure you can.’
So I tried to punch him.
Cosmo swiftly brought up his right arm, bent at the elbow, and easily blocked my fist. ‘You can do better than that. Put some force into it.’
So I tried again, harder this time, and he easily blocked my fist again. ‘No offense, Ambrose, but you swing like a girl,’ he said.
‘Offense taken,’ I retorted.
He showed me high blocks and low blocks. ‘Blocking is your number one line of defense against jerks like those bullies at your old school,’ he told me. ‘Now, try to block my punch.’
Cosmo swung at me, not too hard, and I quickly brought my arm up.
‘I did it!’ I shouted. ‘I blocked your punch!’ But in my excitement, I didn’t see the next one coming. He hit me in the stomach. I doubled over, winded but not hurt.
‘Geez, Ambrose, I’m sorry,’ he said, as I got my breath back. ‘Are you OK?’
I nodded – then I punched Cosmo in the stomach, taking him by surprise. He looked more startled than hurt, then he burst out laughing. ‘You’re a fast learner,’ he said, and I felt a bubble of pride well up inside me.
Cosmo decided we’d done enough upper-body stuff after that. I was ready to call it quits, but he took a soccer ball out of the shed instead.
‘I don’t play soccer. I hate soccer.’
‘You’ve never played it.’
‘Because I hate it.’
‘You hate it because you’re afraid you might embarrass yourself.’
‘I’m not afraid I might embarrass myself. I know I’m going to embarrass myself. It’s happened many times.’
‘Well, you can’t be embarrassed in front of me.’
So we kicked the ball around for a while and I was terrible, but he was right. I didn’t feel embarrassed. Near the end I actually managed one beautiful kick, and Cosmo high-fived me. A little jolt went through my stomach because, outside of gym, I’d never kicked a ball of any type around with anyone, except maybe once or twice with Phil, before my mom stopped taking his calls.
When we’d put the soccer ball away, Cosmo lit up a cigarette.
‘You keep your car spotless, but you fill your body with poison,’ I said, watching him.
‘This is my only addiction right now,’ he replied. ‘In my books, I’m doing pretty good.’
‘Why did you start using drugs?’
He shrugged. ‘I was messed up. I didn’t know what to do with my life.’
‘I don’t know what to do with my life, and I don’t do drugs.’
He smiled. ‘It’s complicated. I was depressed. And angry. And confused
… A friend offered me something at a party one night and it made me feel a lot better. For a while, the drugs kept making me feel better. Then they made me feel worse, but by then I was addicted.’ He ground out his cigarette. ‘What can I say, Ambrose? There’s a lot of paths to choose from in life. I took a wrong turn.’
‘What do you owe Silvio?’
‘What?’
‘UOME. I read the note.’
‘What’d you do that for?’
‘You left it beside the car. It was tempting.’
‘You’re such a weiner.’
‘Are you going to tell me, or not?’
Cosmo sighed. ‘I owe him some money.’
‘How much?’
‘Two grand.’
I whistled, or tried to. I’ve never really mastered whistling. ‘That’s a lot.’
‘He loaned it to me just before I did that last B and E. We were supposed to do the job together, but he didn’t show up, so I did it alone. I figured I’d sell a bunch of the stuff I stole and get him his money back. But that’s not what happened.’
‘What did happen?’
‘I didn’t know the owners had a dog.’
‘A Doberman pinscher? A German shepherd?’
‘A Labradoodle.’
‘A Labradoodle?’
‘Labrador crossed with poodle. Tiny little thing.’
‘You’re kidding me.’
‘I wish.’
‘So what happened?’
‘I was high, which was my first mistake. I was carrying this big flat-screen TV to the back door and, next thing you know, this little pup came tearing out of nowhere. I tripped over him and knocked myself out on a corner of the TV. I guess the owners came home because, when I came to, the cops were already there.’
‘Wow. That’s kind of …’
‘Embarrassing? Yeah. What can I say: crime doesn’t pay.’
‘Supper’s ready!’ Mrs E called from the back door. ‘And Ambrose, I insist you stay. Peanut-free,’ she added with a laugh, and I suspected she was having a little fun at my mother’s expense.
Cosmo and I walked toward the house.
‘Was the Labradoodle OK?’ I asked.
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