by Lubar, David
So I just talked without really saying much of anything. I noticed Jason’s dad kept looking out the window. After a while he said. “There’s no way I can do it.”
I kept talking to Jason, but I also listened while his dad talked to his mom.
“I’ve got three roofs I’m supposed to finish this week,” he said. “The rain’s put me way behind. We won’t even be able to get started until tomorrow.”
“It’ll be all right,” Jason’s mom said. “You’ve always managed.”
“I’d be fine if I could hire a couple extra guys. But there’s no way I can find skilled men by tomorrow. With the storm and all, everyone’s already got jobs lined up.” He walked back over to the window and leaned against the sill.
I knew Jason’s dad didn’t want anything to do with me, and he’d probably shoot me down the moment I opened my mouth, but I had to give it a try. I turned away from Jason and said, “I can help.”
24
JASON’S DAD LOOKED AT ME BUT DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING.
“I’m free tomorrow. I can help out with the roofing jobs.”
“Haven’t you helped enough?” Jason’s mom asked.
I could see there was no point in talking with them. I turned back to Jason. Maybe I could get him to convince them I hadn’t done anything.
“Ever nailed shingles?” his dad asked. He moved away from the window and walked toward me.
“Sure. You and Jason showed me how last August. Remember when you were doing the house next door to yours? So you want me to help?”
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “It’s nice of you to offer, but it’s still not going to be enough to get the jobs done on time.”
“I could call a couple friends,” I said. “I’m sure Mike can get a day off, and I know Corey’s around.”
At the mention of Corey, Jason let out a sound that might have been a laugh. I had to admit, the thought of Corey on a ladder was funny. The thought of Corey anywhere near tools was pretty funny, too. I looked at Jason and said, “Knowing him, he’ll bring a parachute.”
Jason laughed weakly, then gave a single, quiet cough. Beneath the sickness, I could see a faint sign that the real Jason existed. Weak but still there. He closed his eyes again.
“What do you have to lose?” I asked Jason’s dad.
“Everything, if one of you kids gets hurt,” he said.
“We’ll be fine. Give us a chance. Between the three of us, we can probably do enough to free up one of your guys for the skilled work. Maybe even two. Right?”
He sighed, then nodded. “Okay, Chad. We’ll try it. Thanks. I’ll pick you up at five. The job I can put you on is way out toward Philly.”
Five? Oh, lord. I’d forgotten what time roofers started work. “Great. Perfect. I’ll be ready. You won’t be sorry.”
I asked if I could use the phone, then called Mike. He was more than happy to help out. Corey was less happy, but I talked him into it after reminding him how Jason had saved him from getting beaten up at a dance last year. And at two different football games. And a couple times after school. And once in the cafeteria. I promised Corey he wouldn’t have more than one foot off the ground at any time.
Since it was just for a day, and since it was a favor for a friend’s dad, I figured Mom wouldn’t have any problem with me doing the roofing work. She made some worried sounds when I mentioned it that evening, but she gave in pretty easily.
Jason’s dad picked me up at five the next morning. He had an old junker van he used to take his crews to jobs. No seats except for the driver. I climbed in the back and sat on the floor. There were already four guys there. They nodded in my direction, then ignored me. We swung by Mike’s place. Corey was there with him. So was Ellie, who had a tool belt buckled on over her work pants.
“I took the day off, Mr. Lahasca,” she told Jason’s dad.
“Great. Glad to have you,” he said. He opened the back door of the van. “You’re really saving my hide.”
“Mike called me,” Ellie explained as she came around. She stared at the roofers, who were staring at her. “Something wrong?” she asked.
A couple of the men snickered. “We ain’t baking cakes,” one of them said.
Ellie sighed and reached into the van. She grabbed a scrap piece of two-by-four and tossed it to the curb. “Neither am I,” she said as she pulled a hammer from its loop and plucked a handful of nails from a pocket of the belt. She dropped to one knee. Then, with a single awesome whack, she drove a nail all the way into the wood. All the way. I knew I couldn’t come close to doing that.
She knocked in two more nails just as easily, then looked around and said, “May I join you? Pretty please?”
“Only if you promise to put that hammer away.” I slid over and made room for her. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
She grinned. “You pick up all kinds of things when you’re raised in a house full of brothers.”
Mike, Corey, and Ellie got in, and the van drove off.
We got started before six thirty. I think roofers enjoy waking people up. They didn’t even ring the bell to warn anyone. They just slapped a couple ladders against the gutter, climbed up, and started clomping around in their work boots, ripping off the old shingles. From the way they smiled at each other, I could tell they enjoyed being human alarm clocks.
Before long I discovered how brutal roofing can be. It made working at the Bozo tank seem like a vacation. The sun came out with a vengeance. Thanks to the light soaking into the black tarpaper, the temperature felt like it was 700 degrees. Of course, there wasn’t any shade on the roof. I’d have traded my left arm for a chance to plunge into a tank of water.
By quitting time, I felt I’d been run through a meat grinder. Or maybe a deep fryer. We didn’t even knock off until it got too dark to see. But we finished the job.
“Well,” I said to Mike as we rode back, “I know another thing I don’t want to do for a living.”
Mike opened his mouth to answer me, but all that came out was a moan.
“I’d rather wrestle sharks,” Ellie said.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Corey said. That was true, at least for him. He’d been on the ground the whole day. The only time he’d raised a sweat was when he had to dodge whatever we tossed down at him.
“Not bad at all,” he added.
I bent over and grabbed Ellie’s hammer. “I got enough strength for one more swing,” I said.
“Okay, okay—it was bad for you guys,” Corey said.
I put down the hammer and leaned back.
“Thanks, Chad,” Jason’s dad said when he pulled up at the house to drop me off. “You and your friends made a big difference.” He dug for his wallet, but I wouldn’t take any money.
“Glad I could help.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you could, too.” Close up, I could see he was exhausted.
“Look. Jason’s going to be okay,” I said. “I know it.”
He gave me a tired smile and drove off. I went inside and collapsed on the couch. I figured I’d rest up a bit, then see if I could find Gwen. Now that the weather was nice, she had to be back at the Cat-a-Pult.
The next thing I knew, it was morning. I opened my eyes to a room filled with daylight. Mom was gone. I checked the clock. It was after ten.
I couldn’t believe I’d blown my chance to go to the boardwalk. I got up, then fell back to the couch as my body reminded me I’d spent a whole day working on a roof. I tried again, more slowly, and managed to make my way the short distance to the fridge. I was starving.
After I ate, I walked to the hospital. By now I figured the doctors would know what was wrong with Jason. But when I got there it was pretty obvious nothing had changed. He still looked awful.
His dad was out at work. But his mom was there. I waited by the door, expecting her to tell me to get lost. She glanced up, then looked away without saying anything, which I figured was about as close to an invitation as I was going to get. Maybe my time
on the roof had been enough to move her from hating me to merely disliking me.
“I have to run some errands. I’ll be back soon,” she said to Jason a moment later. “I’ll leave you and your friend alone.” She went out. I figured she probably needed a break. Or maybe she just didn’t want to be around me.
Jason had a small TV mounted on the wall in the corner. Someone had also wheeled an entertainment cart into the room—it held a monitor hooked up to a VCR and an old Super Nintendo. A sticker on the side said it was a gift to the hospital from one of the big stores in the mall. Games and tapes were stacked on a shelf under the set.
“Want to watch a movie?” I asked.
Jason gave a weak shrug.
I checked out the videos. Memories of Love. Didn’t sound promising. Probably no good car chases or fistfights. I read the back. Crap. All about a guy whose girlfriend dies. I checked the next one. A Time Before We Parted. Woman’s daughter dies. No way. My Girl. I’d seen that. Girl’s boyfriend dies. A quick scan through the rest of the pile showed it was a choice between orphans, the dead, and the doomed. Forget it. I wasn’t going to sit in a hospital watching movies where people died.
“We could play a game,” I said.
Jason shook his head. “You go ahead.” He pushed the button, raising the back of the bed halfway up to a sitting position.
I popped in Super Mario World. While I played, I told Jason about my day on the roof, and about everyone throwing stuff at Corey. That got a small chuckle out of him. I did an imitation of Corey trying to be useful without climbing a ladder.
Jason laughed and shook his head. “Wish I’d seen that.”
“I’ll bring a camera next time. Though I hope there isn’t a next time.”
I sat there, talking away, keeping Jason company and watching Mario plunge to his death whenever I missed a jump. After a while Jason fell asleep. I stayed in my seat by his bed, not wanting him to wake up alone. A little after noon, a doctor came in to check on him. He picked up a chart from the end of the bed and wrote something on it. He was pretty young for a doctor. I wondered how good he was. I wondered if he was good enough to help Jason.
25
“WHAT’S WRONG WITH HIM?” I ASKED.
The doctor replaced the chart, then glanced over at me. “Friend of yours?”
“No, I’m a weirdo who gets a kick out of sitting in hospital rooms with strangers.”
I expected the doctor to just blow me off without an answer, but he came over and sat in the chair next to me. “I guess that was a stupid question.”
I shrugged. “You going to tell me what’s wrong with him?”
“If I knew that, I’d be a very happy man.”
“So you don’t know?”
He shook his head. “I know what’s wrong, but not why. We can treat the what, but that’s not going to help your friend a whole lot unless we can fix the why.”
It took me a second to figure out what he was saying. I nodded to show him I was following the explanation.
“I’m not supposed to give medical information to anyone except family members,” the doctor said. “But in this case, it’s more a matter of things we don’t know, so I guess I can talk with you about it.”
“Thanks.”
“The problem is in his immune system,” the doctor said.
“Oh, man . . .” I knew what that meant.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” he said. “I’m not talking about AIDS. Your friend’s problem isn’t a weakened immune system; it’s an overactive system. You know how the body fights infection?”
“Yeah.” We’d had that in biology class. “White cells and all that sort of stuff.”
“Right. But Jason’s body is fighting against itself, attacking healthy cells. He has an autoimmune disease. There are all kinds. Some are serious, some are mildly annoying.”
“We’re not talking annoying here, are we?”
The doctor shook his head. “Multiple organs are involved—lungs, kidneys, maybe others. And something in the circulatory system that ended up throwing a clot.”
“Oh, crap.”
“Yeah, ‘Oh, crap’ is right. There are more accurate medical terms, but that sums it up pretty well.” He glanced at Jason. I guess to make sure he was still asleep.
“So now what?”
“We need to stabilize his condition, and we need to figure out why his body is attacking itself.” He sighed and stood up.
I was glad he hadn’t treated me like some dumb kid. “Thanks for explaining that stuff to me.”
He nodded and started to walk out, then glanced back and said, “You can help. Attitude is important. Do what you can to keep his spirits up.”
“I will.” But I didn’t know if anything I did would make a difference.
I waited until Jason’s mom got back. It was obvious from the way she stared through me that she still blamed me for everything. There wasn’t much I could do about that. I said good-bye and left.
On the walk home I tried to think of ways to cheer Jason up. He always liked to talk about California. Maybe I could bring in some road maps or a tour book or something. And if—I mean, when—he got better, we’d do it. After we finished school, we’d buy a car and head out for the beach at Santa Monica. Jason would play in tournaments, and I’d find something to do. There had to be tons of jobs out there. Mom would have her certificate by then, so she’d be okay. Maybe she could even come out with us.
I felt that as long as I kept the plan alive I’d be keeping Jason alive. Even if I didn’t share the dream.
What about my dreams? What about Gwen? I sped up as I realized she might be working right now. I cut across to Thirty-fifth Street and climbed up the ramp to the boardwalk.
She was there at the booth. I stood near the ramp for a while, watching her and wondering what she thought of me. The last time she’d seen me, I’d been a screaming madman surrounded by cops.
Taking a deep breath, I walked over to the Cat-a-Pult.
26
I WATCHED HER FACE CAREFULLY WHEN HER EYES MET MINE, hoping to see a smile. All I got was a cautious nod.
“Can I explain?” I asked.
“Go ahead.” There was no emotion in her voice.
I told her about Jason getting sick. And I told her that I’d come right back to see her but the storm had closed the game down.
She listened to everything, her expression barely changing. When I finished, I felt like I was waiting for a jury to read a verdict. In my heart I hoped she’d tell me she understood. Not guilty. In my gut I was afraid she’d tell me to go away. Guilty on all charges.
“That must have been awful,” she said.
“It was.”
“I hope your friend is okay.”
“Me, too.” I sensed there was something else coming.
“It’s bad to lose your temper,” she said.
“I know.” I couldn’t argue with that.
“My sister married a guy who lost his temper a lot.” Gwen sighed and stared past me toward the ocean. “She left him, but not before he broke her jaw and three of her ribs.”
A cold anger washed over her face as she spoke. I desperately needed to tell her that I couldn’t even imagine doing something like that. Whatever else my dad had done, he hadn’t ever hit my mom. That was one inheritance I didn’t have to fear.
“The stuff with the cops—that’s never happened before,” I said. “It was just—” I paused, not sure of the right way to tell her why I’d acted so crazy. How could I say I’d dreamed of her all winter? How could I explain that the cops had dragged me off just when I’d finally found her again? How could I explain without sounding like a pathetic lovesick puppy?
“You were worried about your friend,” she said, finishing my sentence.
I nodded. That was true, too. “Yeah. It was pretty awful. By the time they got us to the station, I thought he was dying.”
She shuddered, and her expression softened a bit. “You really care about him.
He’s lucky to have you for a friend.”
“I’m the lucky one,” I said. “Jason’s a great guy.” I felt that I was on a tightrope. If I tried too hard to prove how much I cared, I’d sound like a phony. Just be yourself, I thought. Right now I wasn’t even sure what that meant. Maybe Malcolm wasn’t the only actor. Maybe everyone acted all the time. We acted one way with friends, another with parents, another with cops, another with teachers. And another with beautiful girls . . .
I kept talking, telling her about the hospital and the doctor, and even about my day on a roof. Somehow we slipped slowly past the awkwardness. After a while Gwen smiled. Then she laughed. She worked while we talked. And I tried to work up the courage to ask her out. This time I wasn’t going to let the chance slip away. But I didn’t think today was the right day. It was too soon. I felt we were still mending the cracks. There was time. Nearly the whole summer lay ahead.
“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow,” Gwen said when her shift ended.
“I’ll be around,” I told her.
“I hope your friend’s okay.”
“Thanks.”
I watched her leave the booth. My body felt like it had been set free from a clamp that had been slowly tightening since yesterday. Maybe everything really would be all right. If Gwen could come back—come all the way here from Montana—and I could find her, then maybe Jason could get better. Maybe Mom could finish her classes and find a job she liked. Maybe hope wasn’t such a bad thing to have.
Once Gwen moved out of sight, I wandered along the boardwalk, weaving through the crowds, and made my plans for tomorrow. After I visited Jason, I’d come back to the Cat-a-Pult and ask Gwen out. Somewhere special. Maybe really splurge and take her for lobster.
I realized this could be an expensive summer. I needed to build up my spare cash, so for the rest of the afternoon and evening I hustled small jobs, losing myself in the work. But I didn’t go near the Bozo tank. I wanted to give Bob more time to cool off from whatever Malcolm had told him. I’d wait a couple days and then go talk to him. I might even get brave and tell him I wanted to work in the tank. I was feeling lucky.