Secret Saturdays

by Torrey Maldonado

  After Ma’s mother and father died, it was just her. Alone. Out here in Red Hook. Maybe I have uncles on my father’s side, but I’ve never met anyone from my father’s side because they live down south, and Ma said, “If they’re not coming up here, we’re not going down there.” It sucks not having a father or uncle, because I see boys out here playing football and doing things with their dads and uncles. I have to do that stuff with my mother. Which is cool. But kind of gay too.

  Ma grabbed a plate out the cupboard. “You feel like being quiet. Fine. So maybe I feel like not telling you what I saw last night.”

  I asked, “What you see?”

  “I’ll tell you one thing”—she flipped a pancake over and pointed the spatula at me—“if you tell me one thing?”

  “Okay.”

  She said, “Sean.”

  “And his mother,” I said.

  “Yep,” Ma said. “I woke up around two-something and couldn’t go back to sleep. At four in the morning, I heard the stoop door slam and I looked outside. That’s when I saw Jackie and Sean. Where were they going?”

  “I don’t know.” I felt stupid saying that to Ma.

  “Sean didn’t tell you?” She looked at my face and checked for something. Ma probably thought, What type of best friends are you and Sean? Or maybe she felt I was lying.

  “No,” I said. “He didn’t say.” I could tell when Ma thought I was lying to her. She would wrinkle her nose a certain way and shake her head. She didn’t do it this time.

  “Mmm.” Ma turned back to the stove and flipped over another pancake. “I hope everything’s okay.”

  “Maybe Sean will say where he went when he gets back,” I told her. “If he doesn’t, that’s cool.” When things bothered me, Ma didn’t want me keeping that stuff to myself. She didn’t like if I avoided telling my guy friends how they bugged me. Ma hated that because she said I was acting hard. She felt that only made problems worse.

  “So what if Sean doesn’t tell you where he went?” Ma asked.

  I grabbed my fork and cut a piece of pancake. I hoped that by the time I swallowed and looked up, Ma would be focused back on the stove and not on me. I gulped down my food and checked. She was still staring at me. Dead in my eyes. I shrugged. “I’ll be fine if he doesn’t tell me.”

  “Justin,” Ma said, all serious. “Look at me. If Sean doesn’t tell you where he went and you have a problem with that, you better ask him.” She kept her eyes on me for a second and then turned back to cooking.

  Sean Acts Weird

  A FEW TIMES ON SATURDAY AND SUNDAY I CALLED SEAN. Nobody picked up his house phone or cell. On Monday, we didn’t come to school together because he never answered his phones. I didn’t see him until fourth period in gym.

  First, our gym teacher, Mr. K, made us put our stuff in lockers. Then we sat on the floor while he took attendance. After that, he let us have “free play.” While we were on the floor, I looked over at Sean. He nodded to me.

  “What up?” Sean yelled after Mr. K finished taking attendance.

  You needed to shout in gym because the sound of kids was everywhere.

  “What up,” I said. “What time you came to school?”

  “Second period.”

  That’s an hour after school started. Sean had perfect attendance. He never came to school late. So what was up with him coming to school second period?

  I opened my mouth to ask him where he had bounced to this weekend, but a bunch of kids we played dodgeball with ran up. Plus two eighth graders we had never played with before. Mark and Junito. Mark was Sean’s older cousin, but they weren’t close. Jackie didn’t like how her sister had no rules in her apartment. Mark was off-the-hook wild.

  “What’s good?” Mark asked Sean.

  “What up, Sean,” Junito said.

  Sean nodded and gave them pounds. “I’ll come see you at the bleachers after I’m done with dodgeball.”

  What? Sean was going to the bleachers to hang with them? Why?

  Sean had grabbed the dodgeball before we sat for attendance. As Mark and Junito walked off, this kid Big Eddie came over and snatched the ball from Sean’s hands. We sometimes called Eddie that because he was in the sixth grade but he was as big as an eighth grader. He even had a light mustache and caveman hairy arms. Maybe he’d been left back a few times. Maybe not. I saw his pops once. His father looked like Big Foot.

  Big Eddie bounced the ball he had just snatched. “I’m captain.”

  I get heated when people snatch things from me. That’s like punking someone. But Sean didn’t mind stuff like that.

  “Bet,” Sean said. “But I choose first.”

  Sean picked me for his team. Big Eddie chose this quiet dark-skinned West Indian boy in our class. Soon Sean and Eddie were shouting and pointing at kids so fast that we had two teams quicker than you could count to five.

  The teams ran to opposite sides.

  When the ball came to our side, Sean got it and threw it mad hard at Miguel. It was like a cannon shot it. Everybody dove out the way.

  Some kid let it bounce, and then he picked it up and threw it back.

  The ball hit the floor next to me. I grabbed it and flung it. I caught some kid who wasn’t looking. In the face! He was dazed like he saw birds chirping.

  “You out!” I yelled.

  The kid went and stood on the sidelines.

  “Good one,” Sean said.

  Ask Sean now, I thought. Nah. The timing was off. I decided to wait until dodgeball ended.

  When the game was over, Sean walked toward the bleachers and I followed him.

  “Where you went this weekend?” I asked.

  “I told you,” Sean said. “My mom had me on lock-down. Doing chores.”

  “What about your phones?” I asked. “I called your house and cell. Nobody answered.”

  Sean shrugged and squinted hard at something far off. “I lost my cell battery. I don’t know what happened with my house phone.”

  “And your mother?” I asked. “She didn’t hear your house phone ring?”

  “Oh!” Sean said. “I almost forgot! My mom was on it a lot with my pops. Maybe she didn’t click over when you called because she was on long-distance with him?”

  Mark ran up on us. “Ayo, Sean. Come tell Junito and Eric that deadbeat dad joke you told me earlier.”

  After Sean left with Mark, I felt like Sean had just treated me like we weren’t friends. Why couldn’t Sean look me in the eye? I wondered. Ma always said liars avoid eye contact.

  I went to find Vanessa and Kyle. Vanessa was playing basketball. I decided not to stop her game. Especially after hearing Sean say how him and her had some special friendship. I didn’t know how she’d respond. I checked for Kyle. He was on one knee and about to race two kids from our class. Bony Charles with the braces and dark-skinned Vicky, who always kept her hair in neat braids with rainbow-colored beads at the ends.

  “Don’t keep your thoughts and feelings bottled in,” I could hear my mother saying. Before, I thought Kyle would tell me to mind my business. Right now I wanted him to do me a favor. “On your mark, get set . . . ,” Kyle began.

  I put my hands up and stopped the race. “Kyle! I need to tell you something!”

  “What?” Kyle asked. His forehead was dripping sweat.

  “Come on. We racing or what?” Bony Charles said.

  “Relax,” Kyle said to him. “I just raced you twice and beat you. Wait.”

  Me and Kyle moved over to the volleyball net. Kids were playing volleyball all wrong.

  “What’s good?” Kyle asked me.

  “I need to tell you something. Don’t tell Vanessa. Sean just lied to me, I think.”

  “Really? How you know?”

  I wasn’t ready to tell him I knew Sean had lied because I saw him leave early Saturday morning. “You remember how I once told you my mom said liars can’t stare you in the face when they lie?” I said. “That they always look away?”

  “Yeah.”
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br />   “Sean did that. Go over to him and his new best eighth-grade friends and ask him what he did this weekend. Watch how he acts. I bet you a dollar he won’t make eye contact with you.”

  Kyle looked over at Sean. “No bet. I’m not going over there to see if Sean is lying. If he is, he has his reason. That’s his business, not mine.”

  “Do it for me then. Go see how Sean acts with you. For me.”

  Kyle gave me a stank look and twisted his lips to the side. “Fine. Be right back.” He ran over to Sean and Mark’s eighth-grade crew. It took Kyle only a minute to get back. “You right. Sean was weird. He didn’t look me in the eye.”

  I stood there. Confused. “Sean’s lying.”

  “Okay, he’s lying,” Kyle said. “So what?”

  I had nothing to say.

  “Thought so,” Kyle said. “I’m out. I’ll be racing.”

  I went over to the pull-up bar on the opposite side of the gym from Sean. Sean’s acting different, was all I could think. Why was he lying? Where was he going? Why at four in the morning?

  Enough Is Enough

  SEAN WAS TWO LUNCH TABLES DOWN FROM US. He was laughing with his cousin Mark, Junito, and some more eighth graders who were about nothing.

  I checked Kyle’s face. Kyle was looking at Sean too. Analyzing him.

  Vanessa, on the other hand, was eating her spaghetti and meatballs and humming a song. She was into her food. Forget her.

  Now I was ready to pull Kyle to the side and tell him about Sean’s secret Saturday trip. But I couldn’t do that. That would make me a snitch.

  An idea popped into my head. If Sean backed out of another sleepover, I’d get Kyle to stay over my place. We’d bust Sean, and Kyle would get curious. That would lead to us approaching Sean. Two people saying something is different than one person snitching. I’d feel better confronting Sean with Kyle there. I’d be less nervous speaking up, knowing Kyle was there to back me up.

  But maybe none of that would happen, I thought. Maybe Sean wouldn’t even sneak out again.

  Over the next few weeks, me, Sean, Vanessa, and Kyle did the usuals. Hung out in our lunchroom. Gym. Met after school, did homework, and played games. But Sean wasn’t always the usual Sean. Sometimes, he was mad different and took his meanness to a whole other level. When he acted that way, it was hard for me to feel normal with him.

  One day at the beginning of science class, he pulled this kid George’s chair from underneath him.

  Our teacher didn’t see Sean do it.

  “I’ll get you back.” George fake-laughed.

  But him, me, and Sean knew he was too scared of Sean to do anything.

  The next day, Sean pulled Richard’s chair as he sat in math.

  “Stop,” Richard said.

  Sean winked and smiled at me like I was supposed to think what he just did was funny, but I didn’t smile back. I was too busy wondering what was wrong with him. First, yesterday with George and now Richard? What if one of them fell and got hurt? Plus, what if a teacher busted Sean? I was more worried about Sean getting in trouble than he cared himself.

  Every day, in the halls, when he walked behind boys and they didn’t see him, Sean tossed the gum from his mouth into their hair or hoodies. He never used to bother kids for no reason. Now it was like every time he was around other kids, he had to be mean.

  I was annoyed with Sean. Kyle was too. Before, Kyle used to laugh at all of Sean’s jokes. Not anymore.

  That week me and Kyle saw him be mean and we’d just stare at each other and suck our teeth like we were saying, “He’s bugging.”

  Once the hall was mad crowded as me and Sean headed to lunch. He snuck behind this boy Kenneth and kicked him in the butt.

  “Yo!” Kenneth swung around. “Who kicked me?”

  Sean pointed at someone else. “He did.”

  I could tell from Kenneth’s face that he guessed Sean did it, but he pretended he didn’t have a clue because he knew Sean would embarrass him if Kenneth tried to act brave.

  “That was mad funny,” Sean said to me, putting his fist out for a pound. “You saw Kenneth’s face?”

  “Nah.” I shook my head. “That wasn’t funny,” and I left Sean hanging.

  “You soft,” Sean said.

  Yeah, he definitely wasn’t the old Sean.

  Me, Sean, and Kyle kept doing our sleepovers.

  Weeks later, almost at the end of October, me and Kyle slept over Sean’s. It was late and we were bored, doing nothing. Right then, I decided to entertain myself. In elementary school he collected Yu-Gi-Oh! cards like crazy. Sean didn’t see me get out the shoe box he kept them in because he was busy playing with his new iPhone.

  Yo! More was in his shoe box than just Yu-Gi-Oh! cards. Sean had a bunch of dollar bills in there. I scooped them and counted them.

  “Sean, where you get almost fifty dollars from?” I asked him.

  Before Sean could answer, Kyle jumped up and took the money from me. “Son!” he told Sean. “You got money like that? Give me five bucks.”

  Real fast, Sean hopped out of his desk chair and snatched his money from Kyle. “My pops sent me this,” then paused, “from Puerto Rico.” He switched the conversation quick. “Let’s go watch videos in my living room.”

  He had made his lying move. Either he didn’t get that money from his dad or something else about what he said was a lie.

  I looked at Kyle funny like “What’s up with him and this money?” but we already knew he got money from his dad, so Sean’s fifty dollars could be no big deal. Besides, right now, I got more hyped about Sean’s giant flat-screen TV. I always liked watching it because it was as big as some televisions I saw in mansions on MTV Cribs. We dragged Sean’s beanbags from his room and plopped them on his living-room floor.

  Sean flicked his remote until he found a 50 Cent video on music-on-demand. I felt like a rich kid watching this TV. Me, him, and Kyle started nodding to 50 when Sean’s mom came out her bedroom.

  “Hey, guys,” she said all sweet to me and Kyle, but then she switched to a stank tone. “Whattup, bighead?” she said to Sean.

  Her voice and dis on Sean shocked me. I wondered if they were pissed at each other. Their faces didn’t change at all. Sean kept his eyes on the video, but then said back, “You a bighead,” with no feeling.

  Jackie wasn’t fazed. She kept walking and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Kyle didn’t pay them any mind. He was as focused as Sean on the video.

  Sean and his mom were bugged. My mom never called me names. Plus, Ma wouldn’t let me. If I dissed her, she’d smack me.

  I thought back to when Sean walked into Ms. Feeney’s Advisory and said that gang guy was a “bighead.” I wondered where he got that from. Now I knew. Sean’s mom was calling him bighead.

  The next weekend was Halloween weekend. Sean and Kyle slept over my place, but Sean came over late.

  “Sorry,” Sean said to us, taking his jacket off. “My dad called from Puerto Rico to wish me a happy Halloween. My mom made me stay and talk to him.”

  I felt a little jealous. Since my pops bounced, he never called me. Not on my birthday, not on holidays. I barely remembered how his voice sounded. I wondered if he’d even recognize my voice on the phone.

  “It’s cool,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kyle said. “You here now.”

  My mother always was a nervous wreck on Halloween. Since I was little, she’d said, “This holiday is some people’s excuse to act dumb.” She was scared I’d get hurt because kids in Red Hook went egging. Sometimes, kids threw eggs at you from their windows or roofs. Then they hid. Some troublemakers took egging to another level and hard-boiled the eggs so their eggs felt like rocks when they hit someone.

  Other kids traveled in groups and egged you right in the open, then dared you to do something. I saw fistfights break out because the wrong kid got egged and came back with a crew of friends, uncles, or cousins. On some Halloweens, to avoid drama, Ma took me o
ut of the projects to safe neighborhoods. Carroll Gardens. Park Slope. Brooklyn Heights. There, cops were walking around everywhere on Halloween. People felt safe enough to sit right on their stoops with their house doors open. They smiled and gave candy to trick-or-treaters who passed by. No egging in those neighborhoods.

  This year, my mom wasn’t in the mood to take me, Kyle, and Sean out of Red Hook because her leg was acting up. When it was about to rain, she got pains. Kyle and Sean didn’t want to go trick-or-treating anyway. They said we were sixth graders now and too big to ask for candy like little fifth graders.

  Half of me agreed. Another part of me was into wearing costumes and getting free candy. I didn’t tell Kyle or Sean my thoughts, though. They’d already said, “Trick-or-treating is for kids smaller than us.” If I said how I felt, they might tease me and call me a little kid.

  After school, we bought our own bags of candy, and that night we stayed up watching scary movies on cable and dogging all our treats. When the movies ended, we made up our own corny ghost stories. We did that over and over until we fell asleep.

  Things felt back to normal. Sean wasn’t cracking on kids so much anymore.

  The weekend after that, me and Sean were supposed to sleep over at Kyle’s. Friday morning came. While me and Sean were on the bus, he said, “I can’t do the sleepover.” He squinted out the bus window at something. He shrugged and, without looking at me, said, “My mom is having her friends over. She wants me around.”

  Was he lying to me again? I couldn’t take him lying to me again.

  We got off the bus and Sean shouted at one of his older friends. “Rob. Wait up.”