by Tom Twitchel
That was vague, but it worried me more than a little. Baffle was smart enough to get access to a lot of things that most kids had no hope of getting their hands on. It could be almost anything.
“What? Who was it?” I asked.
“It was Sam and two boys who used to hang out with Coby and Rusty. I think they said that Rusty was part of whatever they’re planning.”
That couldn’t be good. I had never been able to understand Rusty’s fight with Mr. Anderson. An idiot who would choose to do that probably didn’t have a clue about what was appropriate or any conscience about the choices he made. God knows what kind of craziness he might have dreamed up. “What else? You said during assembly. Did they say anything else?”
“Um, yes.… One boy said something about the multi-purpose room, a storage closet. There was something else too, but they were walking down the hall, away from where I was putting away the chairs so I didn’t hear it.”
Was it some kind of lame prank? She seemed too worried for that to be the case and she’d been the one who overheard it. My concern for Baffle was tempered by who he was associating with now and the fact that he and I were not talking.
“Do you think you should tell Mr. Conroy?” I asked, as the bell rang for the next class.
Looking around again she shook her head. “No. I don’t know if I should. If it’s nothing, they could all get in trouble and they’ll be mad at me.”
“They don’t know you overheard them though, right?”
“No, but you know how stuff gets around. I don’t get involved in gossip and that’s one of the reasons. I just thought you might want to know because you and Sam used to be close, and I don’t want to get in the middle of it.”
“Okay. I’ll see what I can find out,” I said.
The second bell rang and we both ran for class. My relationship with Mr. Conroy wasn’t really a relationship. He was a good man, but his first priority was to the school and to student safety. If I brought this unspecific information to him, it could touch off problems in a bunch of directions. Also, my history with Munger, my testimony on Rusty’s fight with Mr. Anderson and the strained relationship between Baffle and me wouldn’t make me appear to be the most reliable source of information. Mr. Conroy might think that I was just stirring things up. I thought I needed details and some counsel before I did anything. Spending some time with Mr. Goodturn might help me figure out what to do. I hoped. Maddy would have ideas too, but I was committed to keeping her protected from the odd junk I seemed to have trouble avoiding in my life.
And I was struggling with why I was concerned or interested at all. Baffle had messed me over and never owned it. But we had been friends. He’d been my first friend in Seattle, not counting Seth.
When it came down to it, I probably felt that this was a chance to change the course of my decisions, a turning point. No more running away and no more abandoning people in my life. Time to start…standing my ground and caring for others too, even if it was not something I wanted to do. Time to try to take the higher ground.
But that wasn’t my biggest problem. There was bigger ish to worry about later when I got home.
When I got to the top of the stairs, Maddy was sitting there waiting for me. The glow of a happy surprise faded away when I saw her face. She’d been crying. Her nose and eyes were red. As soon as she saw me, she ran to me and threw her arms around me, sobbing into my shoulder.
My heart started racing crazy fast. I was scared. “Maddy, what is it? Are you okay? Is somebody hurt?”
Still holding onto me, she looked up into my eyes, tears streaming down her face. She spoke between sniffles, hiccupping gasps and sobs. “We’re moving! My parents have been traveling so much because they’ve been doing work for another museum! We’re moving to Los Angeles!”
I couldn’t think of anything to say. We just stood there holding each other, swallowed up in our mutual pain.
CHAPTER TWO
Maddy and I spent a miserable evening until Ty showed up to take her home. As angry as I was at her parents, they were gracious enough to let us spend some time crying on each other’s shoulders. We talked about the details until they ceased to have weight. I mean, we beat that dead horse. Her parents were moving immediately but were locked into their lease on their downtown condo so Maddy was going to be allowed to stay behind until the end of the school year. But they wanted her “acclimated” to L.A. before school started so she wasn’t going to be allowed to stay through the summer. Ty was going to watch the condo until the end of the lease.
When you’re young, all the difficult events in your life have more mass. Like a black hole, they draw in everything that matters to you and swallow it whole, leaving behind only the distilled pain of whatever you are dealing with at the time. It wasn’t like she was moving in the middle of senior year, her parents had argued. Sure, that made it better.
She was going to finish school in Seattle as a sophomore and start the new school year in L.A. as a junior. Matter of fact statements like that made us feel so much better. Hardly. What adults don’t understand while they’re offering bromides for perspective and healing is that the emotions we’re feeling by percentage of our short lives, have the same value and impact as a lost career or a fifty-year marriage that has come to an abrupt end. It hurts, and for us that’s all that matters.
Maddy was distraught.
I was crushed.
When she went home, we were both numb.
I walked her downstairs, wanting to be as close to her as I could for as long as I could. As I watched Ty’s car pull away from the curb, I felt hollow inside. It seemed so unfair but how can a teenaged boy argue with the career decision of a couple of adults? I wished her parents weren’t so nice so it would be easier to stay mad at them.
I turned back to my building, the wind blowing and the tip of my nose getting chilled. I looked at Mr. Goodturn’s shop, long closed for the day. It was late and calling him at this hour was kind of rude, but I needed someone to talk to who could help me deal with what was happening.
I dialed him and he picked up on the first ring.
“Hello, Mr. Goodturn? Is it too late to talk?” I asked, desperately hoping that it wasn’t.
“No, of course not. Do you need me to come down to let you in?” he asked.
“Um, no. I can probably get in if you haven’t set an alarm.”
“Come up then.”
Using my knack, I opened the front door to the pawnshop, stepped in, and closed and locked it behind me. It was dark in the shop so I pulled my phone out of my pocket and turned on my flashlight app. I had spent so many hours in the shop over the last few years that I could have navigated it in the dark. I found my way back to the elevator with no trouble.
I was standing at his front door a minute later and starting to feel guilty about bothering him so late. When he opened it, he beamed at me and it felt good to see a friendly smile. It only took a second for him to see that I was messed up and his smile faded into a look of concern. He closed the door and ushered me in.
A half an hour later we were seated in his sitting room and I had spilled all my anger and frustration about Maddy’s parents. He had offered nothing more than an understanding nod and a few words of commiseration. I felt a little cheated. Where was the miraculous insight or hidden solution I had come for?
“Is that all you have to say, Mr. Goodturn? I mean, what am I supposed to do? It’s not fair!”
“Benjamin, life isn’t fair. I have too much respect for you to toss about platitudes that wouldn’t ease your pain or change the circumstances. Your bond with her is deep, I know, and may survive the distance this move will create, but it isn’t likely,” he said.
Yeah, so “honesty is the best policy” did not feel like the way to go at this moment. If that was Mr. Goodturn’s version of bedside manner, thank God he hadn’t decided to be a doctor. That was not what I had been looking for at all. “Seriously? That’s your two cents? What am I supposed to do? She
’s my best friend. Other than you, she’s my only friend!” My nerves were raw.
He rubbed the well-worn arms of the chair he was sitting in, and cleared his throat. “Do? Wake up tomorrow and honor your relationship with her by continuing to be the fine young man you are. Focus on school. Do what you can to distract yourself from an understandably sad, but not life-threatening situation. And take solace in the fact that she isn’t leaving right away. You’re going to have time to look at the bigger picture. And at your age, a few months is a very long time indeed.”
Totally unhelpful. “But Mr. Goodturn, you don’t understand! I care about her! I don’t want her to leave!” My voice cracked like three times.
“Benjamin, I’m not sure what you’re hoping to hear. She isn’t leaving you. Her parents are moving. She’s a minor and will have to move with them. You can probably visit from time to time. This too shall pass. That may not feel good to hear right now, but I think you’re smart enough to know it’s true. The human mind is a wonderful thing, my young friend. It can forget all sorts of pain if you’ll only let it. I know.”
My shoulders sagged. I had been hoping for something I hadn’t thought of that could change the whole thing back to the way it was. Mr. Goodturn was being honest and truthful. I was being a kid. The ache I was feeling in my chest felt so real and strong, but my mentor was telling me what he knew from his own painful life experiences. I would get over it. But I really didn’t want to.
“I’m having a hard time with it.”
“I understand.”
The hollow spot inside of me seemed to expand and suck in the last few sparks of pain. I felt disconnected from everything around me. Suddenly, I wanted to talk about anything else. Denial? Maybe. The fact was, I had other things going on in my life that were of a more immediate concern.
“I’ve got something else I needed advice on,” I mumbled.
He just raised his brows in response.
“Justine. She…” suddenly I didn’t want to share the story Justine had told me. He would immediately want to get the authorities involved. What if it was some elaborate prank? Baff would hate me forever and with Maddy moving away, he was the only person with which I had any kind of history, as weak as it was now. And Munger’s gang would have another reason to hunt me down. I needed to know more than I did before I started getting adults involved.
“Yes? She what?” he prompted.
“She was hurt that I drew away from her, that we had stopped being friends. She reached out today, but I don’t know if I should get close to her again. I don’t want to hurt her and I don’t want to risk upsetting Maddy.” All true, just not what I had originally intended to ask him.
“Then don’t risk it. You can be decent and responsive, but allowing her to think you might feel more for her would be disingenuous, dishonest,” he said.
“Yeah,” I replied, although I didn’t think it would be dishonest because I was unsure of my feeling for her.
“Benjamin, you are a good listener. I know you are strong enough to weather this storm. I am honored to call you my friend,” he said as he peered at me over the top of his glasses.
Leaving feeling sad and on my own, at least emotionally, I trudged back to my apartment. With not much else to do to distract myself, I spent the weekend planning on how to figure out what Baffle and Munger’s crew were up to.
And trying not to think about Maddy moving away.
Like that was possible.
CHAPTER THREE
The beginning of the week was an exercise in contrasts. While I was still numb and reeling from Maddy’s devastating news; Justine seemed to have gotten over her anxiety and was apparently interested in rekindling our friendship. She said hello when I sat down in first period and was obviously feeling less stressed after having shared her concerns about Baffle. Her attitude was warm and our conversation had less awkwardness about it. It made me feel less alone and I was grateful for her renewed friendliness; we had been so disconnected since the Homecoming fiasco that this new rapport was surprising. It made the impending loss of Maddy seem less real somehow. Justine noticed that I was out of sorts, but I explained it away as being preoccupied with the Baffle thing. Bringing up Maddy didn’t seem like a good idea. She asked if I had figured out what Baffle was up to and I told her I was working on it, which seemed to satisfy her.
After school, I was feeling the need to talk to Mr. G so when I got to my street I called him and asked if he was available to chat.
“Certainly. Have you eaten?” he asked, always thinking about my eating habits now that he knew I didn’t have an adult looking after me.
“No, but I’ve got some stuff for later. I’m good,” I responded.
“Nonsense. I’ll set a table and we’ll eat while we catch up.” He chuckled.
An hour later we were finishing another great dinner (the German name for which I can’t pronounce) I had filled Mr. Goodturn in on my social drama. We hadn’t touched on the really important stuff.
Leaning back in his chair, Mr. Goodturn laced his fingers over his chest. “Benjamin, is it just an old man’s imagination or is there something you aren’t telling me?” His eyes twinkled in the light of the chandelier over the table.
Tiny little hairs on the back of my neck did a tiny little dance. Was that a product of our close friendship or had Mr. G withheld the fact that he possessed another knack?
“Um…uh…just some more stuff at school that I’m trying to work through. Baffle, Sam, has gotten involved with a group of kids at school. Remember the ones I was telling you about? Anyway, I’m just concerned that he’s going to get into trouble. I’m wondering how I can help him…like, disconnect from them.” There. That was vague enough to steer clear of the big issue but still honest.
He looked at me through his glasses, which was odd because he more often peeked over the top of them or under them. Unlacing his fingers, he hooked his thumbs under his suspenders and ran them up and down. “Are you preparing to…do something that might put you at risk?”
Holyyy crap. That was like Maddy intuiting what I was thinking. How was I supposed to respond to that? I did not want to lie to him.
“Not exactly. I just want to offer Baffle my…my… I just want him to know that he has other friends. That he doesn’t have to hang out with these guys, especially if they’re doing something shady. And maybe get him to open up about what’s been bothering him at school.” I had my hands in my lap and felt the need to wipe my suddenly sweaty palms off on my pants.
Running his tiny hand over his mouth, Mr. Goodturn continued to stare at me.
“Hmm. Letting someone know you care about them is seldom a bad thing. Attempting to dissuade your young friend from associating with a group he has attached himself to could produce a reaction one hundred eighty degrees from your desired result.”
I chewed that over for a moment. “Sooo, you recommend focusing on my relationship with him instead of calling him out on the jerks he’s been…hanging out with?”
“Exactly right. I worry about your…let me be careful when I say this, your friend Samuel. Please don’t be offended when I mention our discussion awhile back. People can change, Benjamin. Not always in the ways we would hope.” He looked sad. His theory hit closer to home than he might suspect. I worried about Baffle too.
“Mr. Goodturn, how did you get to be so wise?”
Shaking his head ruefully, he said, “Many years and many mistakes, Benjamin. And watching people I love make poor choices.”
Whom was he referring to? Me? Miss Hoch? His long dead, cowardly partner? All the good advice felt like water rushing over me. Too bad, not much of it sank in.
After helping Mr. Goodturn wash the dishes and thanking him several times for the hot meal, I headed home.
Practicing simple card manipulation didn’t distract or calm me like it had in the past. Too easy. I pushed harder, challenging myself with more complex influencing. I added objects from around the room. Usually, when I star
ted mixing it up, things fell apart after a while. Whether it was the intense desire to focus that I was feeling or just the culmination of the months of practice, I put on a flawless show, just for me. When I’d exhausted all the combinations I could think of, and let my props fall to the floor, I had a smile on my face.
Sometimes, it’s the little things.
***********
By the time Friday rolled around I was feeling frazzled. Running late again, and skipping breakfast, I threw on my clothes in a hurry. As much as I would have loved not to show up at school, it would invite too many questions and risks to be worth it.
Cruising through the lobby and out onto the street, I was met by a strong breeze and overcast skies. As the bus pulled up, it had started to rain. My normal fascination for the rain failed me again and I spent the ride to school stressing over the Baffle mystery that I was no nearer solving, and having no success pushing thoughts of Maddy’s leaving out of my mind.
When I sat down in Homeroom Justine was cheerful and chatty, and the feelings of frustration and sadness I had been dealing with on the bus ride drifted into the back of my mind. The change in her behavior toward me was pleasantly distracting, but it was starting to make me curious. Lunch the day before had been surprising because her friends had essentially swarmed my ordinarily lonely table. What had changed? How had my status with her and her friends warmed to the point where I was now not just tolerated but actually sought out? As the class filed out she went out of her way to wait for me and before we headed off in different directions she gave me a hug and a big smile. As she turned away, I thought I saw a flash of something in her eyes that sent a tickle of apprehension running down my spine.
Lunch was a repeat of the day before. Justine, her friends and Russell Chu sat down with me. Somehow, I had been voted back into their social circle. Justine went out of her way to interact with me. She sat next to me as opposed to the other side of the table, which made it awkwardly intimate when I was talking to her. For my part, I was friendly but feeling wary, which wasn’t helped when I noticed her friend Kayla staring at me so hard you’d have thought I had grown an eye in the middle of my forehead. The set of nerves I’d experienced on the bus ride to school came back front and center with a new worry to join them.