Every night, sometimes every other night, she would put on her show for him. She took off her clothes, bit by bit, bending over in front of the camera and touching herself. Increasingly, she found herself staring right into the red dot that told her the camera was on. Look at me, Jeremy, she told it. This is for you.
She stopped hating it about two weeks in. It became natural and even enjoyable, most likely because when it was over, she turned off the light and went to sleep, safe and alone in her bed. She wondered how many times Jeremy had caught her in the act, and how many times she was performing for the camera only. Could he rewind and play the tape back? If Violet were ever to come across tapes of herself this way, she would immediately rip them open and tear them apart. Light them ablaze so no one could see what she was convincing herself she was capable of. She cringed at the thought of her mother seeing her like this. Would she be proud? How could she?
Still, Jeremy kept his distance. The days passed, the nights too. Violet woke in the mornings to the smell of breakfast. It amazed her that he never tired of treating her, or of thinking of her when he brewed a pot of tea. She couldn’t help but feel that her and Jeremy were doing some sort of dance, skirting around each other, shyly sneaking looks.
She caught him glancing at her at the most unlikely of times. When she was stumped on something and sitting with her brow furrowed and her chin in her hand; when she would laugh quietly to herself after thinking of something that struck her. She would look up in those private moments and see him staring at her. But not quite staring; it wasn’t so obvious or rude as that. More as if he was noticing her completely, taking her in.
This coyness added an element of excitement to her days. It was something she woke up and looked forward to. A game of cat and mouse, except she wasn’t sure who played which role. Sometimes it switched. Sometimes she would look at him intensely, for as long as she could get away with before embarrassment set in, thinking, C’mon Jeremy. I’m right here. What are you waiting for? But if he could see the messages her eyes were sending, he didn’t give any indication he understood or accepted.
March drifted on leisurely; the snow began to melt and the days became a little brighter, a little warmer. Violet never woke up wondering where she was anymore. In the beginning, she had bolted upright with a start on many nights, wondering whose room this was, whose bed. Now, the scenery of her room had become so commonplace that she knew instantly where she was the second she woke up. It was both settling and deeply unsettling.
So much time passed, in fact, that soon it was April. Violet decided it would be best if she let Jeremy know that Ben’s birthday was on the 10th.
On the morning of April 1st, she came down the stairs to the smell of dinnertime. Garlic and vegetables and meat. Probably chicken, she guessed as she approached the kitchen.
“Hey,” she addressed Jeremy who was leaning over to look into the oven, “What’s for breakfast?”
“Dinner is for breakfast,” Jeremy said with a goofy smile.
“What do you mean?”
“We’re having a roast chicken with garlic potatoes and grilled vegetables for breakfast.”
She was surprised by how good it sounded, albeit bizarre. “I’ve had pancakes for dinner before, but never dinner for breakfast,” she admitted. Her tummy rumbled in anticipation.
“April Fool’s!” Jeremy shouted like a little boy.
She paused. “April Fool’s as in, we’re not actually having dinner for breakfast?”
“No. April Fool’s is the dinner for breakfast!”
“So we are having roast chicken for breakfast,” she clarified, “and the fact that we’re doing so is the joke?”
“Yeah,” he said, as though it should be obvious.
“Jeremy, I think you have the wrong idea about what April Fool’s Day is about, but I’ll take it.” She shook her head in mock exasperation.
“Oh.” Jeremy wasn’t sure if he should feel flattered or embarrassed that his prank didn’t fit the bill.
As they heard Ben’s clomping feet heading downstairs, Jeremy looked questioningly at Violet. She nodded yes.
“What’s for breakfast?” Ben asked.
“Dinner is for breakfast!” Jeremy said as energetically as the first time.
“What?”
“April Fool’s Day!”
Ben just rubbed his eyes and went to pour himself a glass of orange juice from the fridge. “April Fool’s Day,” he repeated, “That means my birthday is coming soon.” He said it neutrally, like a birthday wasn’t something a young boy should get overly excited about.
“Really?” Jeremy asked. “What day is it on?”
“Umm… Violet?”
“The 10th,” she filled in for Ben. He wasn’t so good with dates. When he’d been adopted, they hadn’t known his actual date of birth, so they had chosen the first day that he’d come to Canada as his birthday.
“Well, we’re going to have to celebrate then!” Jeremy said. “What do you think you might like?”
Ben sat on the barstool with his orange juice, and appeared to give it some serious thought. “I think I want to go home,” he said. Just innocently, without any malice. His words weren’t meant to sting, but of course they did. Jeremy recoiled from the impact.
“Oh,” Jeremy said softly. “Yeah, I know. That’ll happen. But that’s not a birthday gift. I want to give you something you can play with or keep forever.”
The reasoning appeared to make sense to Ben, who nodded. “A suit,” he said simply, as if it was the most logical thing a seven-year-old boy could ask for on his birthday.
“A suit!” Jeremy commented with surprise. “Maybe a tie as well?”
“No, not that kind of suit,” he shook his head fast like a wet dog. “I never want to wear one of those. I want a suit for when I ride my Jeep and get splashed with mud.”
It was true; he had been returning from his rides on his Jeep increasingly soiled with melting earth. As the snow thawed, the dirt began to surface beneath it. Ben seemed to be an expert at stirring the soil. Most of it landed on his clothing.
“You mean, like a wet suit that scuba divers wear, but one that you can wear in your Jeep?” Jeremy asked.
“Yup,” Ben said simply. “Yes, please,” he added after looking at Violet. She hadn’t even noticed, but smiled after hearing him self-correct.
“But really,” Ben asked. “What is for breakfast?”
“Roast chicken, garlic potatoes and grilled vegetables!” Jeremy repeated as he pulled the pan from the oven. The aroma of seared skin reached their nostrils, each of them amazed by how ready they were to eat such a meal in the morning.
“And this is for April Fool’s?” Ben asked.
“Yeah,” Jeremy replied sheepishly.
“Jeremy,” Ben said gently, “I don’t think you get what April Fool’s is.”
Violet giggled. Jeremy started to as well. Ben didn’t see what was so funny, but threw his head back and laughed the loudest of all.
Later, to teach Jeremy the meaning of a true prank, Ben searched the kitchen. Finding a large bag of flour, he dumped it into a bowl and climbed up onto the counter to hide it above one of the cupboards. He tied a rope around the bowl, tied the other end to a hook inside a cupboard door. When Jeremy opened it later that evening to prepare dinner for dinner, the bowl of flour fell upside down onto Jeremy’s head with perfect aim. The flour dusted his shoulders and covered most of his body.
Standing with a bright red mixing bowl on his head, Jeremy turned to face the giggler he could hear behind him.
“April Fool’s!” Ben shouted.
Violet walked into the kitchen when she heard the commotion, and saw the flour-covered body with a mixing bowl for a head. She let out the laugh that Jeremy found increasingly infectious. He smiled from beneath the mixing bowl, and realizing they couldn’t see it, let out a hearty laugh. He never wanted to take that bowl off and wondered how long he could keep it on before moving from silly to idioti
c.
When he finally took it off, he puffed out his cheeks and blew, resulting in an explosion of white in all directions.
“That’s how you do a real April Fool’s,” Ben said proudly.
No one minded cleaning up the flour that day.
25
Today is my birthday.
I’m not sure if I should celebrate. We’re still here. We didn’t get to go home yet, and Jeremy says that’s not a birthday gift but it would have been the best one ever. Instead, I think I’m getting a suit I can wear in the mud. That’ll be good too.
I’m seven now. Seven is a lot older than six. Six is still little kid age, but seven is definitely a big kid. My mom has a chart back home where she measures how tall I am on my birthday every year. The mark is always a little higher than the last. I wonder if Jeremy would measure me and I could bring it home with me when I go. The mark would be a lot higher this time, I’m pretty sure. I feel bigger.
I guess since I’m seven now, I can’t play with Deedee and Dodo anymore. They don’t know yet though. I haven’t told them. I don’t want to hurt their feelings. I don’t know. Maybe seven isn’t such a big age after all. Maybe eight is the age when I’m not allowed to have friends like them.
This morning I was sleeping when Vi opened my door and said, “Knock, knock.” I don’t know why people say it instead of doing it. Usually, I’m up first and Vi is still in bed for a long time. I asked her once why she was so lazy, and she rubbed the hair on my head and told me I wouldn’t get it until I was older. I guess she does stay up later than me. Sometimes when I go to bed she tells me she’s going to bed soon, too, like it matters to me. I don’t care when she goes to sleep. I go to sleep because I’m sleepy. Maybe that’s one thing that’s nice about not being at home, is that I get to pick when I get up and go to bed, and no one tells me it’s too early or too late.
I’m sorry, Mom. It’s not nicer than being home. It’s just a little bit nice.
Vi brought me breakfast in bed, which I don’t really like because it’s hard to eat in a bed. I usually slop and get crumbs in there that I feel at night on my toes. I always wish I hadn’t eaten in bed. Plus, I don’t have a TV in there, so I just eat and stare at the wall. But I know it’s nice, so I smile and say thank you.
Every Mother’s Day, Vi and I bring Mom breakfast in bed. We make toast with peanut butter and a pot of tea. Mom has her tea with a lot of milk, but no sugar. She likes about three times as much milk as Vi does, so we pour her a jug. Usually, I have a card made from school or daycare, so I put that on the tray when we bring it to her. One year, I learned a poem and stood beside her bed to say it to her. There were only a few rhyming words and I didn’t even write them, but her eyes got all watery and she said it was the best Mother’s Day gift ever.
Maybe that’s why Vi thinks I like breakfast in bed, because we do it for Mom. Vi brought me grilled cheese.
“For breakfast?” I asked, because she always told me it wasn’t a breakfast food.
“Lunch for breakfast,” she said while bobbing her head back and forth, and I smiled. Cool.
Vi didn’t leave me alone to eat like we do with Mom. She sat there looking at me and it was weird.
“Thanks,” I said, in case I’d forgotten and that’s what she was waiting for, but she didn’t move when I said it.
“What?” I asked. I know it came out rude, but it was the quickest way to ask.
“Nothing,” she said, and leaned back a bit. “Sorry. It’s just, it’s your birthday. I didn’t want you to have to eat alone.”
I guess that makes sense.
“Now, what do you want to do today? It’s up to you,” Vi said. I know that’s not really true because it’s up to Jeremy. I didn’t answer.
“I think there might be a surprise downstairs waiting for you,” Vi said with a smirk.
I smiled big at that. I like surprises. I ran out my door and down the stairs and all I could see was string, everywhere.
“What’s this?” I asked. It looked like a giant spider web. The whole main floor was tangled in it from bottom to top.
“I don’t know,” Vi said, but I think she knew. I looked down and saw a ball of yarn attached to all the string.
“Do I –” I started to ask Vi but realized I knew what to do. I picked up the ball of yarn and started to roll it back up. It was wrapped around all kinds of things; chairs and lamps and tables and railings. Probably about a million feet of string. I just kept rolling it up, walking all over the house.
When I got near the end, I slowed down a bit. I didn’t want it to end. I’d never had a puzzle like this before.
“Vi, this is so cool!” I shouted, because I wanted her to know I appreciated it. But she just shook her head.
“I know,” she said, “But this was all Jeremy.”
I didn’t know what to think about that, but I think I really liked it. I kept collecting the yarn, and I finally got to the last bit. It took me to the big closet by the front door. I opened it up, and Jeremy popped out and shouted, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”
I sort of made a sissy noise, because I didn’t expect him to be there. Jeremy laughed, and Vi did too. I like how I can make them laugh.
Jeremy held out my suit for me.
“Just like you asked for,” he said as he handed it over.
Badass Ben was painted on it in bright green paint. My mouth fell open, because I wasn’t supposed to say that word, and I looked back at Vi to see if I was in trouble. But she was smiling.
“How does it feel to be badass, Ben?” she said. I couldn’t believe it.
I decided to try something. “It feels… badass,” I said. I almost chickened out, and it didn’t sound cool coming out of my mouth, but I said it anyways.
I put on my new suit and went to use it on my Jeep. I felt like a real racer. The backyard was a desert I was exploring at my own risk. I saw cactuses and camels. I splashed through the muddiest puddles I could find. When they weren’t muddy enough, I grabbed the hose and turned it on and sprayed it. I got mud everywhere. From the desert, I found my way to the swamp and I watched out for alligators and elephants. Loud shouts started ringing in my ears, and I didn’t even realize it was me. I was having so much fun.
No one even came out to tell me to slow down, or stop, or that I was going to make a huge mess of the house, or to keep it down. My Mom would be so mad. Sorry, Mom. But it was way too much fun.
I finally got tired, plus I had a chunk of mud in my mouth I wanted to rinse out. My new suit was a bit tricky to get off, but I slipped out of it while I was still outside.
“Shower time!” Vi said when she saw me. It wasn’t in a mad or mean way. I looked down at myself and she was right – I was covered top to bottom in mud. Some had even soaked through my new suit. A shower was a good idea.
After that, I got to watch movies with dinosaurs and robots and aliens. Jeremy turned the lights down and made popcorn. I even got to drink Cream Soda in the middle of the afternoon.
For dinner, Jeremy went out and brought us back hamburgers. I had three of them. Three! Vi only had one, Jeremy had two, but I got three. My tummy hurt real bad after that, but I wasn’t going to say a word about it because it was too cool.
After that, Vi and Jeremy snuck into the kitchen. Whenever someone does that on your birthday, you always know it’s a cake. It’s not a real surprise, even though they won’t let you peek and pretend to be all sneaky while they’re doing it. I sort of like it though. I pretended like I didn’t know what they were doing, just to be a good sport. I think you’re supposed to.
They sang me Happy Birthday. I wasn’t even embarrassed. I really liked it, and I wanted to sing along, but I don’t think you’re supposed to sing to yourself on your birthday.
I got to cut the cake. Mom never lets me use a knife. When I looked at Vi, she said I was a big kid now and I should be able to cut my own cake. To be honest, I didn’t really want to do it. I was nervous I wouldn’t get the pieces right and that it woul
d fall apart when I put it on a plate. It was something really grown up and I didn’t want to blow it. Turns out, it wasn’t so bad. The trick is to do it nice and slow. Don’t try to rush it.
Vi rushed out of the room again in that not-so-secret way. She came back with a gift in her hand. I sort of thought the mud suit was from both of them, but this one was just from her. I said thank you before I opened it.
When I ripped the tissue paper out of the bag, I wasn’t sure what was in there right away. A book of some kind. I looked at her, but she just stuck her chin forward, and I knew she meant, Open it.
Inside was all sorts of writing. It was Vi’s writing, I could tell by the way she draws the letter a like a backwards s with a stick attached, and the way she writes e like the Golden Arches, only sideways.
I flipped through the book. There were pages and pages of bits all starting with Do you remember when…
“Vi, you did all this?” I think it was the same question my Mom would have asked if she got a present like this. I was proud of that.
“Well, I didn’t have any of our old photos, and since we’re away from home, I thought you might like this to help you remember.”
It was a really good idea. Sometimes I missed being able to look at my Mom anytime I wanted to. You don’t realize it’s something you like to do until you can’t. I didn’t realize I loved the way my Mom kissed the top of my head when she said goodnight to me. I wouldn’t want Jeremy to do it, and I think it might make Vi sad. I didn’t realize I loved the way my Mom made different versions of a meal for me without ingredients I don’t like.
Reading all the things Vi had written would be weird right in front of her, plus I can’t read as fast as she can. I closed it and said thank you, but I hoped she could tell it was the nicest gift I’d ever got.
I could’ve stayed up as late as I wanted that night, but I started to get sleepy and there was no one to impress. Vi and Jeremy were both heading upstairs, and I didn’t want to sit alone.
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