by E. Van Lowe
Throughout my long and drawn-out response to my mother’s question, Tony continued to sneeze. His sneezing certainly wasn’t helping any. Neither were his watery eyes, gazing at Amanda as if she were his special form of Kryptonite.
The question my mother asked was only four words long—where’d she come from—yet I dragged out my response fearing that once I stopped talking Amanda would be history. “…and did you know that cat urine glows if you put it under a black light?” I said as I finally ran out of breath along with useless things to say.
“Why would I put cat urine under a black light?”
“I’m just sayin’, cats are amazing.”
By now Tony had removed himself from the table and was standing in the living room peering in at us through the doorway. The sneezing had subsided.
Suze stared from me to Amanda and back.
“Take her,” I said, thrusting Amanda across the table. Amanda mewed in protest.
“Aw, don’t be afraid,” my mother cooed softly. She eased Amanda from my hands and began stroking her across the head with her index finger. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Amanda’s eyes shut contentedly.
“She likes you,” I said. “She doesn’t do that for everybody.”
Suze raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” Her eyes moved to Tony, who now had red splotches on his face.
“Please don’t say no. I know Tony’s allergic and I’m really sorry about that, but I need her, Mom. I need Amanda.”
Her eyes moved to me and a curious expression crossed her face. I know it was because there was a sense of desperation in my voice. It wasn’t a ploy. I was surprised at how desperate I sounded, but it was true. My life needed the kind of jump-start that having a friend like Amanda could provide.
She continued to stare, trying to figure me out.
“It’s all right. There are shots I can get.” Tony had spoken from the next room. Suze looked at him. “I got them when I was a kid. They worked just fine.” He sniffled.
“Really?” Suze didn’t seem convinced.
“Well… Maybe if when I’m around, Amanda… isn’t. At least until I’ve had enough shots to build up some antibodies.”
“Hey, no problem,” I ventured quickly. “Whenever you’re in the house, I’ll keep Amanda locked up tight in my room.” My beseeching eyes moved back to my mother.
“I don’t know—”
“She was up there when Tony arrived. He didn’t start sneezing until I brought her down when you guys were stealing kisses in the kitchen.”
Guilty smiles brightened both their faces.
“I’m good with it,” said Tony. There was still caution in his eyes, but he’d managed to hang onto the smile. In that moment, I liked him even more.
“Me, too,” I said, in case we were putting it to a vote.
Suze looked down at the kitten in her hands. “Hi there, cutie.” She put a finger in front of Amada’s lips and as if on cue, Amanda licked it. After a few moments of what I was certain was bonding, she looked up at me. “You know anything about taking care of a cat?”
“Are you kidding? You know how I am with research. Since I’ve been home this afternoon, I know everything about taking care of a cat. How do you think I found out that tidbit about cat urine?”
“We won’t be trying that, right?”
“No, no of course not. Consider that a piece of useless trivia never to be uttered again.” I held my breath.
“Okay.” She said it so easily, I wasn’t sure where we were headed until she nodded and smiled down at Amanda in her lap. “Welcome to the family, cutie.”
After a few more minutes of bonding, I retrieved Amanda, wrapped her back in the blanket and started up to my room. She mewed softly, and I looked down at her as we mounted the stairs. I’m not certain she knew what had just happened, but I could almost swear she was smiling at me.
*
On the last day of school the campus was nearly deserted. The seniors had already graduated, so they weren’t around, and other students who understood the last day was just a day for social gathering decided to get a jump on their summer vacations—that list included most of the Poplarati.
AP students weren’t afforded that luxury. We went to school from the first day to the last, no questions asked. We were made that way. Because of our abnormal desire to excel at our studies, even when there were no studies around for us to excel at, the math lab held its end-of-year party on the last day of school. All the other clubs had wrapped up their activities weeks ago, but not us.
On Friday afternoon at three p.m., when the remaining few students were fleeing campus like mice from a sinking ship, I marched down to the math lab one last time.
Mrs. Brewster had gotten us the cutest cake. It was a slab cake, the kind you get from Albertson’s, with a calculator decorated onto the top surface. Scrawled above the calculator in lime green frosting were the words: G.U. Mathletes 2012. The calculator keys were colorful Reese’s Pieces. When I arrived at the lab, Alan and Geoffrey were picking off the calculator keys.
Tran was at the rear of the room in animated discussion with a girl I didn’t recognize. “Hey Barnett, get over here,” he called when he saw me. I knew Tran was showing off for his friend, but since it was the last day of school, I cut him some slack.
As I approached, I couldn’t help but wonder: Does Tran have a girlfriend? I knew I shouldn’t have applied the geeks-can’t-get-a-girlfriend-if-their-lives-depended-on-it stereotype to the members of the math lab. But I was one of them and can say quite honestly, most of the stereotypes fit.
“This is Jenny,” Tran said as I walked up. “She’s smart, like you. She’ll be transferring here next year.”
The smart-like-you comment was a bit of an insult, for he was implying that girls aren’t usually smart but that Jenny and I were. She didn’t seem to mind the insult and offered a cautious smile. If she didn’t mind, then I didn’t either. Anyone who’d visit a school they didn’t go to at three o’clock on the last day of school was either crazy or entitled to some respect.
“I go to Salesian. Our AP students are so lame. I can’t wait to get out of there.”
I glanced back at Alan and Geoffrey, who were now putting the Reese’s Pieces into their mouths, loading them up with spit, and flinging them at each other.
“Welcome,” I said. I couldn’t help but marvel that our AP class would be considered cool and hip to someone who looked as normal as Jenny.
She was of slight build, with jet black hair that hung below her shoulders. She had brown eyes and was wearing a cute top and skinny jeans. No tell-tale signs of geek anywhere.
“We had another girl at the beginning of the year, but she transferred out.” Tran was smiling, but there was caution beneath the surface of his eyes. He knew how long Erin had been my best friend.
“Yeah, she couldn’t take the heat,” I said, bringing smiles to both their faces. “You’ll be a welcome addition.”
“Thank you, Barnett.” Jenny had a disarming smile, nothing smug or self-important about her.
“Call me Megan,” I said. And just like that, we’d bonded.
“I wish you were going to math camp with me this summer,” said Tran. Tran had asked me several times to attend math camp. He figured it would keep us sharp and maybe next year we could win state. Winning the state-wide mathlete challenge was Tran’s goal in life.
“I told you before, we can’t afford it.”
“I know. But we could really get a jump on things for next year if you came. Jenny’s going.”
There was something about the way he said it, and the way her face lit up when he said her name. She is his girlfriend. I didn’t know if that was reason for celebration or depression. I mean, even Tran had a girlfriend.
“That’s great. Maybe when you guys get back we can all study together.”
“Hey, that’s a great idea,” bellowed Tran. “I told you she was cool.”
Did I just promise to spend part of my sum
mer vacation studying math with Tran and his girlfriend? From the smiles on both their faces, I think I did.
“Next year we win state,” declared Tran, hoisting his plastic cup of Vitamin Water into the air as if he were a pirate hoisting grog in a Tortugan bar. “State!” he cried, standing atop a chair. “State! State! State!”
The other mathletes quickly picked up the battle cry. Even Jenny joined in.
State! State! State!
Anywhere else, Tran and the others would have been a laughing stock, but here in the safety of the math lab, they were free to exhibit all the geeky behavior their hearts desired.
State! State! State!
It’s the last day of school, I thought. What the heck. I raised my fist into the air and joined them.
“State!”
*
I left the party early because I wanted to get home to Amanda. She had turned out to be everything I’d wanted and more.
She liked sleeping on my chest. The night of her arrival, I woke up in the middle of the night in a panic, thinking a demon had found his way out of my dreams and was pressing down on me. I sat up quickly. Amanda squealed and leaped off the bed, scooting into a corner. She was so frightened it took me half the night to convince her that sleeping on my chest was all right.
Since then I had come straight home from school every day. Amanda didn’t require a lot of attention like some pets I know. She liked playing with her toy mouse and the teddy bear Tony had given her (what a sweet guy). But every so often, she’d stop her playing and come to check up on me. I’d be at my desk, or in the kitchen, on in the living room watching TV, and I would look up to find her staring at me—watching over me.
The first time this happened, I was in the kitchen preparing a snack—apple slices and peanut butter. I looked up from slicing the apple, and Amanda was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room.
“Hi, Sweetie. C’mere.” I stooped down and wiggled my fingers for her to come, but she ignored me. Typical cat. Satisfied that I was okay, she left the room and went back to whatever she was doing.
It was easy to understand how Maudrina could see her pets as part of the family. Amanda had definitely become part of our family. Speaking of Maudrina, she hadn’t come to school the rest of the week. I told myself it was because she’d already taken all her finals and there was really no reason for her to be there. Yet I knew better. She wasn’t coming to school for the same reason she hadn’t called or answered any of my texts. She didn’t want me judging her.
I promised myself I would call that evening, and if she didn’t pick up, I would stop by. Tomorrow, Saturday, was our sleepover day. Whether I approved of what she was about to do or not, she needed to know I was there for her, just as she had been there for me.
I was walking down the empty corridor of the main building lost in thought, not too far from the south exit, when I heard someone coming up the corridor behind me. Rubber-soled shoes squeaking gently against the tiles reminded me how much I liked being in school when the building was deserted. It had a totally different feel, a relaxed feel. Some people might have found it creepy, but I found it refreshing.
I didn’t have to be on the look-out for the Ashley Scott’s of the world to come pouncing on me with one judgment after another, or lewd remarks from idiot boys who thought way more of themselves than anyone else did. I could actually hear myself think. I could also hear people walking up the corridor behind me.
The person’s footsteps quickened.
I figured it was one of the other mathletes heading home from the party. Who else would be in school on the last day at this hour?
I turned. The corridor was empty.
I stood in the empty corridor for several seconds listening for the sound of a person moving or breathing. Nothing. The building was eerily silent. Scratch that thought about liking being in school when the building was deserted. The fine hairs on my arms rippled to attention. Being in an empty school wasn’t cool at all; it was actually kinda creepy.
“Hello?” I said it softly out of the embarrassment that no one was actually there. It was obviously just my overactive imagination.
I waited for several seconds. Satisfied it was indeed my imagination, I turned to continue away. I took two steps and thought I heard the rustle of clothing.
I spun back around.
“Hello,” I called more loudly, but this was out of mounting fear and not embarrassment. “Tran, is that you?”
I didn’t think it was Tran, because Jenny was with Tran the last time I saw him, and I didn’t believe he could get her to be part of a scheme to sneak up on me. Then, who?
I couldn’t believe how quiet the building had become. I could hear myself breathing, which wasn’t hard since I was hyperventilating. While I knew I wasn’t the only one left in the building, it sure felt as though I was.
I turned and picked up my pace, heading for the exit. I again thought I heard the footsteps behind me, but I kept walking. I had made up my mind not to turn around again. I felt if I did, I might see something I didn’t want to see, something out of one of my nightmarish dreams. The exit was in full view and I counted the footsteps until I got there. Forty footsteps… Thirty footsteps… twenty footsteps… ten… Boom!
I barreled through the exit door and out of the building. I was immediately engulfed in sunlight and fresh air. The sound of birds, trees, cars, people, assaulted my ears. It was a welcome assault.
I leaned back heavily against the door. As I stood there breathing in big gulps of relief, I realized that as I was exiting the building I thought I heard the faint sound of laughter behind me. Again, the fine hairs on my arms stood on end. It was a familiar laugh, one I’d heard not so long ago in my dreams, when Satan was stalking both me and my mother.
Of course, I wasn’t certain I’d heard anything. The door had slammed shut behind me closing out all sound before I could be sure. It might have been my imagination again. One thing was certain, though. I was glad school was out for the summer. No way was I going back into that building before September.
*
I entered the house and headed straight for the kitchen to get something cool to drink. The day had warmed up again. The sun beat down on the pavement and flared up off the sidewalk like a heat lamp. The walk from the bus stop had left me hot and dry.
When Amanda heard me come in, she bounded into the room, her toy mouse hanging by its tail from her mouth. She trotted over to me, dropping the toy mouse at my feet. Looking up, she mewed.
I had just grabbed a cool bottle of water from the fridge. “For me? Thank you, Sweetie.” I stooped to scratch her behind the ears. “Mommy is so proud of you.”
That’s when I saw the blood drizzling from the mouse’s nose. This mouse was no toy.
“AHHHHH!”
I dropped the bottle of water. It went bouncing to the floor as I let loose a blood-curdling scream that I’m sure resounded throughout the neighborhood. The dead mouse lay at my feet, a tiny stream of blood steadily leaching from its nose and onto the floor.
I began hopping back and forth from one foot to the other as if I were standing on hot coals. Amanda screeched and raced from the room.
“Calm down. Calm down. Calm down,” I repeated to myself over and over. It’s just a dead field mouse. No need for alarm. Cats kill mice. That’s what they do. It was a present. Amanda was giving Mommy a present. As much as I appreciated the sentiment, I didn’t want another one.
I needed to get the dead mouse out of the house. Amanda wasn’t going to be any help with that. She was nowhere to be found. I needed to find something to pick it up.
*
Five minutes later I was still standing there. I was having a crisis of confidence that I’d ever be able to find the proper utensil to pick up the mouse carcass. I figured I could use a ten ton crane, but I didn’t have one handy.
It was odd, me not feeling confident enough to remove the mouse. In the past, I’d removed all sorts of dead r
odents and birds from our garden without a second thought. But this mouse was in the house, lying dead on the beige-and-brown tile kitchen floor, and somehow, being here in the house made it seem more formidable.
I needed to find somebody to pick up the dead mouse and get it out of the house.
When Mrs. Dawson opened the door, I noticed she’d changed her hair color. Mrs. Dawson was a natural redhead, like Matt. But not anymore. Her hair was now jet black. Her style had changed, too. It was a cute pixie cut that opened up her face, yet somehow didn’t seem right on her.
“Oh, my stars.” A smile of genuine joy appeared on Mrs. Dawson’s lips when she saw me standing there, which sent tiny needles of guilt threading through my entire body. I’d only been to the Dawson’s a handful of times since Matt’s death. My reason was that living right next door to me had to be a constant reminder for them. Matt and I had been best buddies since kindergarten, so to avoid any added pain for them, I stayed away.
“Hi, Mrs. Dawson.” I was still hanging onto my alarm over the dead mouse, but I knew I needed to be cordial, make a little small talk before barreling ahead with my reason for being there.
She opened the door wide, waiting for me to enter. “Megan. What a surprise. You seem more grown up each time I lay eyes on you.”
“Yeah, I’m getting there.” I didn’t move. My reason for not coming by was actually a flimsy excuse I’d created to make myself feel better. My own guilt over Matt’s death was the real reason I’d stayed away for so long.
“You have a birthday coming up, don’t you?”
I was getting a sinking feeling about coming over there. Matt always spent my birthdays with me. No matter what we did, Matt was always included. “Yeah,” I said weakly. “Sweet sixteen, June twenty-second.” This year would be my first without Matt.