by Tim Green
“Then trust me.” The major smiled and patted Harrison’s shoulder.
The major massaged Harrison’s leg and they finished up about an hour before dinnertime.
Harrison showered and put his leg back on along with a fresh sweat suit and some clean sneakers, then waited in his room, reading a book from the Sacketts series. When he heard the doorbell, he sat up straight. He heard Justin’s voice and the sound of the major letting him in. There was a soft knock on Harrison’s bedroom door.
“Come in.” Harrison crossed his good leg over the plastic one at the ankles.
Justin slipped inside and closed the door behind him. He laid his coat on a chair and stood shifting from one foot to the other, looking at the floor.
“It’s okay, I don’t bite.” Harrison pushed himself up even straighter. “Anymore.”
Justin smiled at him. “I was just worried, but I get it. I’m sorry about everything.”
“I never told you this, but I’m sorry we lost the championship.”
“That was so long ago I forgot about it. Who even cares?”
“I know you did, a lot,” Harrison said.
“You wanna play something? I heard you got a Mac. I hear there’s some pretty cool things on those.”
Harrison pointed to a set of controllers on a shelf beneath a flat-screen TV his parents had put in the room. “Forget the Mac. My mom finally broke down and got me an Xbox. I have to read for an hour, then I get to play for an hour. That’s how it goes.”
“Do I have to read?” Justin wrinkled his face.
Harrison laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve got two hours saved up. I knew we wouldn’t be doing odd jobs or cutting lawns. Yet, anyway. Come on, let’s play.”
Justin got the controllers, handing one to Harrison before he sat down in the chair next to the bed. They turned on the machine and began a game of Madden. Neither of them was very good, so it was a close game they both enjoyed.
“You got me.” Justin put the controller down. “It’s good to hang with you.”
“You, too.”
“Did you really mean that? That stuff about cutting lawns, just not yet?”
Harrison reached down and touched his fake leg; the major called it a prosthesis. “This is just temporary. When the major gets me fitted with the real deal, I’m going to play football. So yeah, by the time you start up in the spring, lawns will be a piece of cake.”
Justin blinked at him. “Football? You mean, Madden?”
“No, football.” Harrison stared at him, annoyed by Justin’s doubtful tone and struggling to stay calm.
“You can do that?” Justin’s question was filled with awe instead of doubt, and that made Harrison feel better.
“With the J72 I can.” Harrison went on to explain how he’d been measured and fitted for the metal leg and even punched up an image of it on his Mac.
“Cool.” Justin took the laptop and angled it to see better. “It’s like The Terminator. From the movie. Have you seen it?”
“Sure. I guess.” Harrison didn’t know how he felt about being compared to a robot.
“Anyway, they say you can play? Will you be back to normal?”
Harrison took the laptop back and stared at the J72. “I guess. I don’t really know. The major says he thinks I can play. He didn’t say how well, but if you can play, you can play, right?”
Justin hesitated. “I really don’t know. Hey, that Transformers movie is still playing, but I heard it’s gonna close this weekend. You wanna go tomorrow after I finish hanging Mrs. Peabody’s Christmas lights?”
“A movie?”
“At the mall. I can meet you there. It’ll be fun. Oh, I mean, can you move around and stuff like that?”
“Of course I can.” Harrison grabbed his crutches and hobbled to his feet. “Look. I can go anywhere I want.”
He swung his legs around the small room.
“Hey, that’s great. Let’s do it. There’s a show at seven. I’ll meet you there. Want to?”
“Sure. I’ll get dropped off after dinner.”
Justin slapped him a high five. “Awesome. Well, I gotta go. I’ve got to get those lights started at Mrs. Peabody’s before dinner. It’s a two-day job. I’ll see you tomorrow at the mall.”
Harrison followed him on crutches to the door and said good-bye. He watched Justin trip and catch himself on the sidewalk, jealous of the way he could. Before Justin was out of sight, Coach pulled into the driveway. Harrison waved and waited because he wanted to ask about the movie, and even though he couldn’t think of a reason why not, he had no idea if his parents would let him.
Chapter Seventy-Five
HARRISON SAT AT THE dinner table looking from one parent to another as they argued about the movies. Coach told him he could go and Harrison had already texted Justin about it. Then his mom got home for dinner and threw a fit.
“He’s just not ready.” She said the words for what must have been the twentieth time.
“He says he is,” Coach said.
“He’s thirteen.”
“I say.” Coach stuck a thumb to his chest.
“You’re crazy.”
Coach motioned at Major Bauer. “The major says it’s—”
“Oh, no.” The major held up both hands and his fork clattered to the plate. “I’m out of this. I see both sides.”
“Both sides?” Coach looked at the major in disbelief. “You, of all people. All you ever talk about is ‘normalizing.’ What’s more normal than a kid going to the movies with his buddy at the mall? Come on, both of you.”
“Let’s let Harrison get a little stronger and a little more acclimated before we throw him out into the world. I care about him is all.” His mom pressed her lips tight.
“And I don’t?” Coach glared at her.
“Stop it!” Harrison startled even himself. The table went silent and the three adults looked at him with surprise. “Mom, I’m going. I need to. Please.”
His mom looked like some invisible giant was pressing down on her shoulders. She stared at him for a long minute before she spoke in a whisper. “Okay, Harrison. You go.”
She went back to eating, but did so without talking the rest of the meal. Harrison knew she was mad at Coach and not him. When his mom finished eating, she got up from the table without speaking and disappeared upstairs. Coach, the major, and Harrison all followed the sound of her footsteps above with their eyes. When she jogged back down the stairs, Harrison could see she was carrying a box.
She handed the box to Harrison. “If you’re going to go, at least you can use this. It came to my office today, so the timing is perfect.”
Harrison stared down at the box. He could see from the shipping label—even though it had already been opened—that it was something newly ordered that had come in the mail.
“What is it?” Harrison asked.
“Go ahead, you’ll see. Open it.”
Chapter Seventy-Six
HARRISON REACHED INTO THE box and felt something silky soft. He wrinkled his brow and pulled it out. At first he could only think of an animal fur, like Lump used to bring home from his trap lines. He held it up, pinched between his first finger and thumb.
“What is it?” he asked, even as he realized.
“A wig.” His mother’s face was eager with hope. “It’s real hair. The best. You like it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can go places and no one will even know. With your crutches and your prosthesis, you’ll look completely normal. Try it on. Go ahead, Harrison.”
Harrison studied Coach and the major. Their faces gave nothing away.
“Yes,” Coach said.
“Sure,” said the major.
Harrison hobbled to the bathroom with the wig clutched against his crutch handle. When he got there, he took a deep breath before switching on the light. He didn’t like looking at himself and lately he had avoided mirrors. His bald head and the dark circles under his eyes made him look more like a zombie th
an himself. When he did hit the switch, he wasn’t disappointed. He looked as horrible as he expected. Maybe worse.
His mom appeared in the mirror behind him. “Here, let me help.”
Harrison let her take the wig from his hand and place it on his head. He didn’t think it could get worse, but it did. The wig sat at a strange angle, looking much more like a fur hat than a head of hair. Harrison groaned.
“Here, let me straighten it. There. That’s it. You look good.”
Harrison had to admit, it was better when it sat straight, but there was something still not right about it. It was unnatural. He still couldn’t stand the sight of himself, and he hadn’t really thought about the consequences of going out looking the way he looked until he saw it for real. He was about to tell his mom that when she put her hands on his shoulders and spoke to him in a low voice.
“You and your father are right,” she said. “There’s no reason you shouldn’t go out. I’m sorry, Harrison. I’m trying to teach you not to care what stupid people think or say. The only people who matter are the kind ones, and anyone with an ounce of kindness isn’t going to say one bad thing. I was being foolish, and I think a little selfish.”
“Why selfish?” Harrison asked.
She found his eyes in the mirror. “It’s easier for me to keep you here to myself, all tucked away and safe, but that’s not helping you.”
“I was just beginning to think that you were right.” Harrison patted the wig.
“Because of how you look? You look fantastic. Completely normal. No one will notice a thing.”
Harrison appreciated his mom’s attempt at kindness, but as he stared at himself in the mirror, he realized that most likely her words were a long way from the truth.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
HARRISON SPENT MOST OF the next day hoping Justin would cancel.
At two-thirty, though, he got a text that Justin was on his way to Mrs. Peabody’s and couldn’t wait to meet him at the movies. Harrison spent over an hour in the bathroom, fussing with his wig and tugging on the pant leg of his sweat suit to make it look normal draped over the plastic leg. Finally, his mom called him to dinner. They were having a quick meal of spaghetti and meatballs before Coach would drive him to the mall.
After dinner, his mom pointed to his shirt. “You might want to change, don’t you think?”
Harrison looked down at the flecks of red sauce spattered across his white T-shirt and felt his face go warm. He hurried to his room and tugged a black T-shirt over his head, then hobbled out to the kitchen.
“How do I look?”
“Great,” his mom said. “Here, take a jacket.”
“Super,” said the major.
Coach said, “I’ll bring the truck up closer to the garage.”
They bounced through town and out to the mall. As Coach pulled to a stop, he scratched behind his ear, the way he did in the locker room before a football game.
“You okay?” Harrison asked.
“I’m fine. You?”
Harrison reached up to touch his wig. “I guess.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Harrison lifted the wig and rubbed his bare scalp. “I was thinking maybe I’ll keep my hair like this, even when I’m not sick. I bet my helmet will fit better.”
“Your helmet would fit better.” Coach nodded. “That’s a good point. Here, let me give you some money.”
“I’ve got enough for the movie,” Harrison said, replacing the wig. He still had the money he made from those weeks of helping Justin.
“Well, have a bucket of popcorn on me. It’s for you and Justin, too. And buy a couple of those ridiculous extra-large sodas, on me.”
Harrison accepted the twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll bring you change.”
Coach waved his hand and scratched hard behind his ear.
Harrison gripped his crutches and slipped down out of the pickup truck. He hobbled toward the entrance without looking back. He was afraid if he did, he wouldn’t go in. He never heard the truck pull away.
Chapter Seventy-Eight
AT THE MALL ENTRANCE, a little girl with a braid in her long red-orange hair held the door for him and smiled up without any front teeth. A boy who looked like her older brother just stared. Harrison thanked the little girl, but before the door closed, he heard the two children giggling.
Harrison winced but kept going. He felt certain his ears looked like two steamed lobster claws and he couldn’t help himself from glancing back to see half the people he passed stopping to stare, some of them even pointing. The click of the crutches gave him some comfort because he imagined the major counting out the reps of some drill and the trip to the escalators became a workout rather than a quest for the movie theaters upstairs.
When he reached the top of the escalator, the second floor was empty. He hobbled over to the ticket booth built into the wall and ordered a ticket for Transformers. A lone girl in black pants and a vest over her white shirt sat on a stool behind the popcorn counter reading a paperback book. She looked up and blinked at Harrison, studying his hair before blushing and looking back down. He kept going, thinking he could get Justin to buy the popcorn and drinks when he arrived. The ticket taker swung open the big door leading to all the theaters. Harrison hurried through, thanking him, and making fast for the lighted Transformers sign hanging from the ceiling.
As he struggled with the door, Harrison heard voices behind him. He let the door go and turned, angry at the thought that Justin might have invited someone without asking him. He patted the wig on his head, but as the two figures got closer, he realized neither one of them was Justin.
Smiling, they came to a stop right in front of him.
Harrison felt his stomach flip, then flop, and he was certain that he was about to throw up.
Chapter Seventy-Nine
ADAM VARNETT’S SMILE COULD only be outdone by Leo Howard’s. Each of them took a turn glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one else was in the hallway, and each of their grins only widened.
“Hey,” Leo said. “It’s Harry Johnson. The cripple. The Crip.”
Varnett laughed. “The Crip. I love that.”
“Crip, what’s that you got on your head?” Leo reached out and snatched the wig off, twirling it in the air like a mini-pizza.
“Give me that.” Harrison tried to snatch it back. He leaned forward, but Leo took a drop step.
“Oops.” Varnett swept his leg right under Harrison’s left crutch.
Harrison felt the crutch go. He grasped for the handle of the theater door, missed, and crashed to the floor. The two boys burst into an uproar of laughter and backed away, bouncing on their toes.
“The Crip goes down for the count.” Leo held the wig up and dropped it to the floor.
“Down for the count.” Varnett smacked Leo a high five.
The two boys jostled each other halfway down the hall, howling with laughter before hushing each other and disappearing into a horror flick.
Harrison fought back tears. He crawled to his wig and slapped it onto his head before retrieving his crutches and struggling to his feet. He noticed then that his plastic foot stuck out to the side. That’s when the door at the end of the hall swung open again. Justin appeared and approached him with hesitation.
“Dude, are you okay?” Justin stared down at the sideways foot.
“I’m fine.” Harrison nodded at his mechanical leg. “Can you just twist that thing back for me?”
“Twist it?” Justin glanced at the crooked foot. “Are you shaking?”
“I fell. These crutches. Just twist it back.”
Justin hesitated, then crouched down and jerked the foot back into place so that it matched his real foot, facing forward.
“You said seven.” Harrison tried not to sound mad, but it didn’t work.
“I had to walk. Mrs. Peabody said she’d give me a ride, but she only took me as far as the corner of Route 12 because she was going to Clayborn to visit her
daughter. Sorry, Harrison.”
“It’s fine.” Harrison fussed with his wig. “How stupid does this thing look?”
“It’s dark in the movie.” Justin swung open the door. “Who cares?”
Harrison started to scold him but held off and hobbled into the dark theater, where the trailers for new movies had already begun. As his eyes adjusted, Harrison saw only about five other people scattered in the ocean of seats.
“Want to sit up front?” Justin asked.
“Sure.” Harrison didn’t know if Justin was saying that to give his prosthetic leg more room or because he liked the huge screen, but after what had happened, he was just happy to have a friend. They sat and Harrison rested his jacket and the crutches on the seat next to him with his fake leg sticking out in front of them. He adjusted his wig again, then reached into his pocket and gave Justin the twenty from Coach.
“You want some popcorn and super-size sodas? It’s on Coach.”
“You sure?” Justin took the money.
“Yeah. I’ll wait, okay?”
Justin disappeared and Harrison tried to settle his nerves. He stared up at the screen but didn’t see or hear anything other than the clip of film that ran on a loop through his head of Varnett and Leo bullying him, and him being totally helpless with his stupid wig. He pulled the wig off and threw it at the screen.
“Hey!” someone behind him shouted. “Knock it off.”
Harrison just stared at the furry clump lying on the floor in the blue light of the screen. That’s how Justin found him when he returned with the popcorn. Justin set a tub in his lap and handed him a cold, damp drink the size of a coffee can.
“Good, it didn’t start.” Justin plopped down and stuffed his mouth with popcorn, crunching.
Harrison could feel Justin’s eyes on him. “Hey, Harrison? Are you okay? Is that your hair over there?
“Harrison, are you crying?”
Chapter Eighty
HARRISON SNIFFED AND WIPED his face on a sleeve. “No.”
“It’s okay.” Justin’s voice was quiet and kind. “We don’t have to watch this. You want to do something else?”