by David Skuy
Charlie threw the covers off and reached for his pants on the floor. His mom rolled her eyes. “Ordinarily, I’d give you a mini-lecture about leaving your stuff all over the place, but since it’ll get you out the door faster, I’ll keep it to myself.”
Charlie put his pants on quickly. His mom held out a set of keys, which he stuffed into his pocket.
“How was the game? Did you win?” she said.
“Don’t ask. We got pounded — and I played like garbage.”
“I can’t believe it was that bad.”
“Trust me. I’m insulting garbage by comparing myself to it.” He let his arms dangle by his sides. He really was tired. “I had no energy. Maybe cause I didn’t get a warm-up, not sure. I couldn’t get into the game. I was like a minus six on the night.” He swallowed hard. “I even got benched.”
His mom squeezed his arm. “You’re working hard, and I know this has been difficult for you. I shouldn’t get on you so much. I’m sorry. We’re both trying to do a whole bunch of things at the same time, and we’re going to make mistakes, like me last night and you this morning.”
“I’m sorry too, Mom. I tell myself ten times a night to set my alarm, and then I forget. How dumb is that?” He buttoned up his shirt and pulled on his sweatshirt.
She sat on his bed, then leaned down to pick up a towel and fold it. “I got another call from Theresa,” she said. “She needs an answer from me by the end of the year, which is only about five weeks away, or she’ll have to find someone else.”
“So let her find someone.”
“Charlie …” She seemed to be searching for words. “I’d love to. Believe me. It’s just that … it’s that I’m worried about you, and us. I spoke to my lawyer and, well, she’s telling me this is going to take a long time. The insurance company won’t budge. We’re running out of money. I can’t go on like this; even a couple more months will be very hard. I’m drawing on savings now, and I’m not sure it’s worth it. Things are too hectic, especially for you. You’ve got big circles under your eyes. It’s not healthy. And I’m getting worn out too. And how long can I work at the restaurant? Bruno’s been lovely to me, but I’m getting in the way. I’ve been looking into renting another kitchen space, but it’s so expensive and places are hard to find.”
“Are you saying we have to go?”
She swayed slowly from side to side. “I’m saying we have to think about it and be prepared for it. Unless I can find another kitchen that’s affordable — soon — and business picks up enough that I can hire some help again, it just won’t work, honey. I hate the thought of moving you and Danny. But money is so tight right now, and this job in Stanville will take the pressure off. It really is a fantastic opportunity.”
Charlie stared out the window.
“I’m not saying it’s for sure,” she continued, “but like I said, I don’t want to surprise you …”
He interrupted her, the words pouring out. “I won’t forget stuff again, Mom. I swear. This was only because we had a late game — and so what if I miss a game once in a while. So what. I don’t want to move because you feel sorry for me. I’m good. Everything’s good. I don’t feel stressed. Honest. I just forgot to set the alarm. No biggie. And I’ll ride to the Rainbow and get your book in two secs — and I’m happy to help Danny with her project. I’ll tell her before I go. I’m in all day doing my homework anyway, so there’s no problem, and you’re the best baker in Terrence Falls and you’ll get tons of work. I know it. And I’m sure your lawyer will get the money to fix up the Rainbow soon.”
His mom got up. “You’re probably right, Charlie. I’m tired too, and stressed about this wedding cake. That’s all. It’ll probably work out. Don’t worry.” But she did not sound convinced.
He crossed his arms. “Do you need anything else?”
“No. That’s it.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in, like, five minutes.”
“You don’t have to kill yourself, Charlie. I don’t need it till the batter’s ready. Do you want to eat something quick before you go?”
“I’m not really hungry,” he said. “I’ll eat when I come back.”
He took a quick look again out the window. The sky had darkened. He grabbed his knapsack and his board. “Like I said, I’ll be back quick. Bye.” He ran downstairs. The television was on. “Hey, Danny. Do you want me to help with your project later?”
“Nah. Mom will do it,” she called up from the basement.
“Mom’s got to bake a wedding cake. I can help.”
She didn’t answer for a moment. “Okay. Later, though. I want to see the end of this.”
“Not a problem.” He was out the door in a flash and riding down the street as fast as he could. His stomach began to rumble. A little food might have been a good idea. In fact, now he almost felt sick to his stomach, he was so hungry. Two more pushes and he got up to top speed, and only then noticed the car at the stop sign. Charlie pushed the back wheels forward, and with knees bent deeply, leaned back. For a second he thought he might have to ditch. Another metre and he would have smashed into the side door.
He waved at the driver and gave him a thumbs-up. The driver gave him a stern look before pulling off. Charlie waited for his heart to stop pounding like a drum. At least that woke him up! The intersection was clear, so he set off again, a little more cautiously this time.
* * *
A strand of police tape remained in front of the café, flapping in the wind. The front window had been covered up with paper. Charlie unlocked the door and turned on the lights. The sight of the damage brought the memories flooding back, and for a few moments he allowed himself to remember that night.
He sat down on a chair.
He might have to leave Terrence Falls.
And then, for the first time since his father died, Charlie cried.
Pounding on the front door startled him so much he nearly fell off the chair.
“Who’s there?” he called.
The pounding continued.
“Who is it?”
He heard a muffled yell outside. He thought he heard his name. Quickly, Charlie wiped his eyes. Then he dimmed the lights and peeked through a crack in the paper. Pudge was staring back at him. He prayed Pudge would not notice that he had been crying. But what was he doing here? Charlie opened the door.
“Hey, Charlie. We went by your house and your Mom told us you’d just left. We figured we’d meet you,” Pudge said.
Dalton and Matt came in.
Charlie touched the corner of his right eye nonchalantly. It felt dry.
“We’re going over to Zachary’s to watch the hockey game,” Pudge said.
“It’s not tonight?” Charlie said, blinking a few times. His eyes felt dry, but he dared not touch them again.
“A rare matinee,” Dalton said.
“I can’t. Not right now, anyway. I have to get a cookbook to my mom, and then help Danielle with some work, and I have homework to do … maybe I can come for the third period …”
“Charlie Joyce is choosing homework over a hockey game?” Matt said. “Did I just see a pig fly by?”
“I’ve never seen you so busy with school before,” Pudge said. “You trying to be the new Matt?”
Little chance of that happening. Matt was the school genius — well, one of them. Julia was the other one.
Dalton began to look around. “This was truly an unfortunate event,” he said. “Do you know how it started?”
Charlie felt himself flush. He had kept that a secret, except for telling Pudge. It was too embarrassing. But he couldn’t bring himself to lie now. “Unfortunately, I do. I was making a grilled cheese sandwich, and Jake and his crew came over and I forgot about it and when my mom honked the horn I went out. Stuff caught on fire.”
“When are you starting to fix it?” Pudge said.
“Not sure,” Charlie said. “The insurance company won’t give us the money.” If they only knew what that meant, he thought.
�
��But they must provide the funds to repair the damage,” Dalton said. “That’s the point of insurance, no?”
Charlie had to laugh. “They say I’m underage and had no right to use the range, and the fire system wasn’t turned on.”
“Why was that?” Pudge said.
Charlie shrugged. “It’s complicated. My mom’s seeing a lawyer. It’s a total mess. The guys that installed it did it wrong. Bottom line is no money. And my mom owes the bank ’cause she borrowed to start the café and … Like I said, a total mess.”
“It is typical for a small business to finance the start up by borrowing funds,” Dalton said. “I can see how it would be difficult to meet the monthly payments without a source of income. Is your mother working?”
Until that moment, Charlie had been keeping Stanville a secret. Somehow that made it less real, less like it could happen. But keeping the secret made him feel bad, as if he was lying to his buddies. He would not want his friends to keep something like this from him. As hard as it was to admit, Stanville was becoming a real possibility, and he was tired of pretending everything was fine — because it totally was not.
He started slowly, trying to think of the best way to tell them. “She’s working at Pudge’s dad’s restaurant. She’s started a baking business. It’s been going okay, but not great … and she doesn’t think it’ll pick up fast enough, so … yeah, I think she’s stressed. We all are. I’ve been running around a lot, helping out more at home, so it’s not all homework — although I could definitely do more of that.”
They all laughed, although Charlie sensed it was more to relieve the tension than because it was funny.
“Do you mind if I take a look at the damage?” Dalton said.
“Help yourself,” he said, and Dalton wandered to the back. Matt followed him.
Charlie put a foot on the chair and rested an elbow on his knee. “This was supposed to be the dream season,” he said to Pudge. “Then the school hockey team is cancelled and we miss the Champions Cup, and a bus we’re on goes into the lake — I mean, really, a lake? — and a bunch of guys are hurt. Now this? We should hire a witch doctor to get rid of the black cloud over our heads. Or better yet, I should leave, and you guys will be free of my curse.”
“We’ll get through it,” Pudge said.
“I’m not so sure. My mom’s been working like crazy and … she can’t be at your dad’s place forever. She got offered a new job and …” Charlie could not say it.
“So that’s good. She can make some money and open the café again down the road,” Pudge pressed. “You should be happy.”
“The job’s in Stanville. We’d have to move.”
Pudge did not seem to react. Had he understood?
“It’s not for sure or anything,” Charlie said. “Hopefully, she can find another kitchen to work out of and everything will be okay.”
“But my dad’s happy for her to stay.”
“Yeah. I know. She wants her own place, I guess. She’d have to hire people, get more business …”
Dalton rejoined them. “It wouldn’t take too much to repair the range,” Dalton said. “The handles and knobs are easy enough. The manufacturer would have those. Slightly more complicated is replacing the motherboard, which melted during the fire. I’m sure I could find something inexpensive on the internet.”
“What’s the point?” Charlie said. “Look at this place.”
Dalton’s brow furrowed and he pursed his lips. “It might be a lot of work, but if we cleaned everything up, painted, and repaired the range, this café could be up and running again.”
“That’s going to be someone else’s problem,” Charlie said.
Pudge’s eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed. “If the café was fixed your mom wouldn’t have to think of leaving.”
“Who’s leaving?” Matt said.
“No one,” Charlie said. He sighed and added, “Well, maybe I am.”
“Where are you going?” Dalton said.
“I’m not … Well, I’m probably not … Here’s the story: Without the insurance money, my mom can’t reopen the café, and if her new business doesn’t pick up … a lot … we might have to leave Terrence Falls. She got offered another job at a restaurant — in Stanville.”
“Then I guess we gotta fix this place,” Matt said.
“If we do it, there’d be no reason to go,” Pudge said.
“It’s a nice idea, but think about it. We can’t fix this mess,” Charlie said. “We have no money. What good is a range when the rest of the place looks like this? The ceiling and walls are trashed.
“Maybe not as bad as that,” Dalton said. “From what I can see the damage was principally from the smoke, a lot of which can simply be cleaned up. It is true that materials will need to be replaced — such as some of the drywall and the affected ceiling tiles, and I do see some discoloured floor tiles — but otherwise, it’s not as disastrous, or ‘trashed,’ as you suggest.”
“So you’re saying it’s less than a disaster?” Charlie said.
“Yes, I suppose I am.”
Pudge was flushed and breathing heavily. “We’ll do it ourselves,” he announced.
“I … um … kinda lost my magic wand, so I’m not really sure that’s possible,” Charlie said.
“If we can survive the Champions Cup team last year and make it to the finals, start the Rebels, and even save the school, we can do this. We don’t need your wand.”
“I have an idea for construction materials,” Dalton said. “My family is quite committed to the freecycling movement. People list things they don’t need, new or used, on a website, and offer it free to others. I could send out a query to the local group.”
Pudge raised his fist in the air. “Perfect. We freecycle this sucker back to its original glory.”
“Also, my father is in real estate and he generally knows who is renovating their properties,” Dalton said. “That’s another terrific source of materials. Environmental types call it salvaging. You wouldn’t believe what people throw out when they’re fixing up their houses.”
“My dad will be able to help on the advice side,” Matt said.
“What does he do?” Dalton said.
“He’s a carpenter — but he can build practically anything,” Matt said.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” Charlie said. “It’s a cool idea, and I’d do anything to try to stay in Terrence Falls, but we don’t know how to replace walls and ceilings and tiles and motherboards and …”
Charlie looked into his friends’ eyes, and his voice grew quiet. “There’s more to it. It’s not actually just the repairs we have to deal with. The bank is asking for some money, and I’m not sure how much time we have.”
“I think tomorrow morning we have an appointment with a certain bank manager,” Pudge said.
“I’ll send an SOS to the freecycling community,” Dalton said, “and talk to my father.”
“I’ll get my dad to come over and tell us what to do,” Matt said.
“Once you’re done with your sister, come over to Zachary’s for a planning session,” Pudge said.
Charlie struggled to speak. “This is … I … um … will have to speak to my mom …” He tried to collect his thoughts. Could they actually do it?
Pudge put out his hand. Matt laid his on top, and then Dalton. Charlie added his.
“Rainbow Café on three,” Pudge said.
“One–Two–Three!”
14
SUPERHERO
The wind chilled him as he rode his board toward the bank. He blew on his hands and resigned himself to the suffering. He had told his mom that morning about the plan. “It sounds rather ambitious,” she had said. “I don’t want you getting your hopes up.” Hardly the reaction he expected, but maybe it made sense. She probably didn’t want to get her own hopes up, and she did not know about their idea to go to the bank. Something about the way she had responded made him think it would be better not to tell her until the
bank actually gave her an extension. She would get stoked then.
Pudge and he took the turn on their boards side by side.
“I’m hoping the cold weather won’t mean a frosty reception,” Charlie said. “What time is our appointment?”
“Ten-thirty.”
He had asked Pudge three times already. He was totally uptight and he needed to chill. This was big, though. His mom had been talking to his grandmother on the phone, and although he felt guilty about eavesdropping, he had heard his mom say that the next bank payment was due after New Year’s, which was a little over four weeks from now, and they were hounding her already for the last payment, which she had missed. He had to convince the manager to give her more time. Then they could do the repairs, she would reopen and make the money and … He stopped himself. He had been repeating the same thing over and over since Pudge had come up with the idea. It was enough already; now he needed to make it happen.
They stopped at a red light and picked up their boards.
“I’m freezin’, dude,” Charlie said. “This light better change or I might not make it. I gotta get some warmth on me.”
As if the light was listening, it changed, and the two boys ran across the intersection and into the bank.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” a lady asked.
“We have an appointment with … what’s her name again?” Charlie asked Pudge.
“Ms Sarah Martins — for ten-thirty,” Pudge said.
“Certainly. Please have a seat. She’ll be with you shortly.
Charlie looked around. “I don’t see any chairs.”
“Around the corner there’s a waiting room,” the receptionist said.
A little boy on the floor was playing with a broken truck, his mom sitting close by reading a magazine. He began to make revving noises, and then drove the truck into the leg of the chair his mom was sitting on.
“Can you please stop that, Ethan. It bothers Mommy.”
Ethan gave her chair a final smack. Then he pointed the truck at Charlie.