My Life as a Stuntboy

by Janet Tashjian

  A Snort-Lived Victory

  deposits

  When Ronnie deposits me at home, both Mom and Dad are waiting in the kitchen. Frank’s cage is nowhere to be found.

  “Where’s Frank?” I ask.

  “He’s next door with one of the interns,” Mom answers.

  “I was surprised to come home from a meeting to find Jamie in the kitchen with our monkey,” Dad says. “It took a bit of convincing to get him to spill the beans.”

  My mother’s arms are crossed while she waits for my response.

  “I wasn’t going to hide it from you. I want to tell you everything.” I take a seat and update them on the afternoon’s events. I even admit it took me nine takes to run the slalom.

  My father tells me he’s glad I told the truth, but my mother remains silent. When she finally speaks, I hold my breath in anticipation.

  “We have to tell the woman from the training organization,” she says.

  “But for once, it wasn’t my fault!” I say. “I don’t want to lose Frank because Swifty messed up.”

  “Breaking into someone’s house and stealing are real offenses,” Dad adds. “I’ll be calling Swifty’s parents tonight.”

  Sympathetic

  When I jump out of my chair, Bodi jumps up too. I bend down and comfort him before approaching Mom.

  “Do we have to tell the people from the monkey place? Isn’t it enough that I got Frank back here safe and finished my work in the movie?”

  Mom’s arms are still crossed, but her eyes look sympathetic. “I think it’s best if we’re honest with them, don’t you?”

  “Even if it means losing Frank?” I ask.

  “Even if it means losing Frank.” She tousles my hair the way she’s always done. “Do you want to come to the office? I know a certain monkey who’ll be happy to see you.”

  Before she even finishes the sentence, I’m out the door.

  Back to the Old Routine

  Squirming

  I sneak into school the next morning, horrified that I might run into Swifty. He and his parents came over last night, and his father made Swifty apologize to my parents, then to me. I’ve had to say I’m sorry to dozens of parents over the years, but it gave me no pleasure to watch Swifty squirming in his seat.

  It might’ve been my imagination, but I thought I saw something in Swifty’s eyes that I interpreted as I’ll get you for this. My mother insisted Swifty’s apology was sincere and not to assume the worst. Even so, I’m not taking any chances now—although I feel pretty stupid slinking down the hall behind Ms. Myers and her library cart.

  “You still owe me a book, Derek,” she whispers to me as I crouch down the hall.

  I tell her I’m almost finished—which is an outright lie—then dash into the art room.

  I make it through my first two classes by keeping my head down, but when I get out of English, Swifty’s waiting by the door.

  “Last night was pretty humiliating,” he says.

  ballistic

  He’s almost a head taller than I am, but I gather up enough courage to respond. “You probably should’ve thought about the consequences before you kidnapped Frank.”

  “My mom went ballistic,” Swifty continues. “She took all my video games, and I’m grounded for a month.”

  I shrug. “Sounds like a reasonable sentence for the crime.”

  Surprisingly, he agrees with me. “She told me your parents could’ve called the police. I’m glad they didn’t. What I really feel bad about is that you could lose Frank,” Swifty says. “I hope they let you keep him.”

  “Considering it wasn’t my fault,” I add.

  “Considering it wasn’t your fault,” he repeats.

  I leave him standing in the hall alone and head to my next class.

  I’m shocked when Ms. McCoddle calls Maria to the front of the room to present her report. These past few weeks have been a blur, and I completely forgot our book reports were due. I look over to Matt and Carly, who both have theirs. The last thing I want to do is have Ms. McCoddle hold me up as an example of a kid who thinks he’s got more important things to do than hand in his work. (I did have more important things to do but still … .)

  Matt notices my predicament and raises his hand when Maria finishes reading. “I don’t understand the conflict you talked about in that book. Can you explain that again?”

  As soon as Maria answers his question, Carly raises her hand too. “Have you read any of the author’s other books?” Carly asks. “How did this one compare?”

  predicament

  conflict

  Maria leans against the whiteboard and discusses a few of the author’s other books. I look up to see if Ms. McCoddle is suspicious that they’re stretching the assignment out, but she nods and asks questions of her own. When Maria sits down, Carly volunteers to go next, and after that Matt does too. Before you know it, the bell rings and class is over.

  “You guys are the best,” I whisper to Matt and Carly as we gather our things. “I haven’t even finished the book yet. You totally bailed me.”

  “It’s the least we can do after you brought us to a movie set,” Matt says.

  “And let us hang out with Tanya Billings,” Carly adds.

  As we’re leaving the room, Ms. McCoddle calls out to us from her desk. “Just because I taught you three in kindergarten doesn’t mean you can pull the wool over my eyes now. I expect you to be fully prepared on Monday, Derek. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  The three of us hurry down the hall. I’m not worried about how much reading I have to do this weekend or how Ms. McCoddle deciphered our plan. For a minute, I’m not even worried about my meeting with the woman from the monkey organization tonight. All I’m thinking about right now is how great it is to have friends who’ve got your back when you need it.

  deciphered

  Yes or No?

  The woman from the monkey institute is arriving after dinner, so I plan out how our conversation might go. It’s kind of crazy, but doing parkour has helped other parts of my life besides just stunts. I might never see Tony again, but he taught me how important it is to plan and how obstacles can usually be overcome. Who knew you could learn life lessons from a guy who runs down the street on fire?

  When the woman arrives, she’s not the same grandmother-type who helped Frank settle in with us a few months before. This woman’s name is Wendie, and she’s harried and grumpy. Thankfully, Frank can’t spill the beans about our escapade at the warehouse; he just sits in his clean cage with his full water bottle and looks like the most cared for capuchin in the world.

  “So,” Wendie begins, “can you tell me why poor Frank needed emergency surgery?”

  Before Wendie came, my mother told me I was in charge of this meeting—that she wasn’t going to help bail me out this time. When I look over at her now, her arms are crossed like she has no intention of answering Wendie’s question. I explain about the toy horse and how Frank is lucky that my mom is a veterinarian so he had quick medical treatment.

  harried

  escapade

  “That’s true,” Wendie says. “But he would’ve been better off if he hadn’t needed surgery at all, don’t you think?”

  I look over at Mom who still isn’t talking.

  “It definitely would’ve been better if he hadn’t swallowed it,” I answer. “I know better now.”

  Wendie unlocks the cage and takes out Frank. She checks Frank’s diaper and gives a quick nod of approval when she sees it’s clean. Then she talks to him in a baby voice that’s even worse than how my mother talks to animals. “And what do you think, Frankie? Do you want to stay with the Fallons or come back to Boston with me?” Her voice gets even more babyish. “Who’s Wendie’s good boy?”

  I look over to Mom for support, but she looks like she’s about to burst into laughter. I make a face that says Don’t blow this for me! so she takes a deep breath and gets serious again.

  Wendie turns to me. “Are there
any other incidents I should be aware of before I make my decision?”

  Mom arches her eyebrow so high, she looks like a cartoon bad guy. I know what she’s waiting for, but I still hesitate.

  “Well,” I begin, “a kid from school—not one of my friends, I want to make that dear—kind of kidnapped Frank this week.”

  hesitate

  “Excuse me?”

  “But you’ll be happy to know I got him back home in no time without a scratch.”

  emphasizing

  Wendie holds Frank even closer. “Tell me more.”

  So I launch into the story of Swifty, emphasizing how quickly I sprang into action to save Frank. “My friends Matt, Carly, Jamie, and Ronnie all helped. Frank has a real support system here.” It’s a phrase I’ve heard my mother say a million times, and I hope it impresses Wendie.

  She shakes her head. “I’m just not sure this is the right environment for one of our capuchins.”

  It’s the sentence I’ve been dreading for weeks, and my entire body slumps with disappointment. When I look up at my mother, her eyebrow is still arched. I know from experience that she’s waiting for me to continue. I feel deflated, but Mom’s stubborn expression urges me on.

  deflated

  “It’s not my fault,” I say. “I can’t be held responsible for some lunatic sneaking into our house.”

  “Did you say lunatic?”

  I realize comparing Swifty to a lunatic is not a good choice of words and begin again.

  “Our house is so much better for Frank than being in a big room in Boston with lots of other monkeys,” I say.

  “Actually there’s a long list of people waiting to become foster families. He’d be placed with one of them. With a family who takes care of him so he can live to a ripe old age and change the life of a disabled person for the better.”

  contributed

  I try my best to be polite but can’t let Wendie get away with that last comment.

  “I hate to tell you,” I say, “but accidents happen all the time, to everyone. Sure, it was stupid for me to leave a toy out for Frank to grab, but that doesn’t mean some other family’s not going to make mistakes too. Suppose another family on your list cuts a carrot too big and Frank chokes? Suppose he has some kind of seizure and the closest vet is an hour away?”

  I point over at my mom, who still hasn’t contributed to the conversation. “And as far as Swifty goes,” I continue, “he really regrets what he did—and not just because his parents punished him.” I begin to gather up steam. “Swifty has nothing to do with this discussion anyway.”

  regrets

  “He doesn’t?” Wendie asks.

  “No, it’s about how Frank feels about being part of our family. He loves it here. Suppose he gets assigned to a family who doesn’t watch old cowboy movies. Frank likes Westerns, did you know that?”

  Wendie shakes her head.

  “His favorite thing is sitting next to Bodi and me on the couch. He’s always so relaxed, with this huge grin on his face.”

  My words even convince me. Frank is the most important part of this discussion. I take a giant risk and hold my arms out toward Frank. Without thinking twice, he leaves the comfort of Wendie’s fleshy arms and jumps into mine. He leans his head against my chest and settles in.

  theory

  “Frank is where he’s supposed to be,” I finish. “Taking him away now would only confuse him and leave him lonely.”

  Wendie closes the latch on the cage and doesn’t meet my eyes. “So that’s your theory? You’re some kind of monkey whisperer now? You know how animals think and feel?”

  I point across the room. “Maybe it’s in my genes. My mom’s pretty good with animals too.”

  Wendie nods and tells my mother she’ll be in touch.

  For the first time in the meeting, my mother speaks. “My son has presented a good argument,” she says. “I hope you consider his points very seriously.”

  Wendie grabs her purse from the kitchen table. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow with my decision.”

  After Wendie leaves, my mother holds out her arms for Frank. I guess she needs some comfort after all this tension too.

  “You were very persuasive,” she admits. “But it’s out of our hands.”

  My body finally collapses with the stress and fear of losing my monkey, and I slide onto the closest chair. When Frank tilts his head away from my mom and looks at me, it’s almost as if he’s asking, Are you okay?

  I’ll let you know tomorrow.

  persuasive

  Rut-Ro

  lopsided

  When I walk into the kitchen the next morning, my father’s wearing this lopsided smile while he talks on the phone. The guy is just too weird.

  I grab a cookie and head to the door, but he stops me. “He’s right here.” The grin on his face is even sillier when he hands me the phone.

  “Is it Wendie?” I whisper. “Can we keep Frank?”

  “It’s not Wendie,” he answers.

  “Then who is it?”

  His only answer is that ludicrous expression. I put the phone to my ear.

  “Hi, Derek. It’s Tanya Billings. How are you?”

  ludicrous

  As I stare at the phone, my father shrugs as if to say I told you. I finally get it together and tell Tanya I’m fine.

  “Did you see the video on YouTube?” she asks.

  Please don’t say someone got their hands on Matt’s video of me reading! I tell her I haven’t and race to Dad’s laptop in the next room.

  “At first I was angry,” she admits. “But it’s been great! It’s gotten more than two hundred thousand hits.”

  “Uhm, what’s the video called?” I’m almost afraid to know.

  “Tanya Billings saves wild monkey.”

  “What?” Sure enough, a video comes up of Tanya climbing a wall of crates to save a capuchin monkey. The video stops short just as she reaches the top of the shelving.

  Except it isn’t Tanya. It’s me.

  “My phone hasn’t stopped ringing,” she says. “People think I do my own stunts now. Did you tell your friend to post this? You’re a genius!”

  As I watch myself climb up to Frank for the second time, I try and decide if I should tell Tanya that I had nothing to do with Matt posting this video, but I keep quiet. I’m just glad Frank is high up enough that you can’t really see it’s him. Wendie doesn’t seem like the YouTube type, but you never know. Today is the day I find out if we keep him, and I don’t want anything to mess it up.

  “First using illustrations to help me with my lines, then giving me this great free publicity—I’m so glad I met you.”

  publicity

  Before I can ask her what movie she’s working on next or if she wants to come over sometime, she hangs up. I stare into the silent phone and know in my heart it’s the last time I’ll ever talk to Tanya Billings.

  I text Matt.

  r u insane? y did you post it?

  He answers me back moments later.

  Cuz u climb like a girl.

  But he apologizes for posting the video without my permission and says he’ll take it down if I want him to. I tell him to keep it up.

  My father hands me a carrot dipped in peanut butter. “Isn’t Ronnie coming?”

  “I think he’s had enough of me for one week,” I answer. “He’s scheduled for next Tuesday instead.”

  “So you’re finishing the book on your own?”

  “I am twelve,” I respond. “Reading without help is a possibility.”

  aghast

  My mother comes in from her office and passes over an envelope addressed to me. I can’t remember the last time I got any real mail. I’m even more aghast by what’s inside.

  “Is this a joke?” I ask.

  Dad looks over my shoulder at the check from the studio and whistles. “That’s more than all the birthday money you’ve ever gotten in your life.”

  “Multiplied by ten,” Mom adds.


  “Don’t tell the studio,” I whisper.

  “But I would’ve worked on that movie for free.”

  “You should add that to your college fund,” Dad suggests.

  I’ll have to get Mom to take me to the promenade in Santa Monica to blow some of this money before they have any other bright ideas.

  I spend the next several hours reading my book and drawing my vocabulary words. But what I mostly do is look at the clock. Before I can even ask the question, my mother answers.

  “She’ll call soon,” Mom says.

  “She’s doing this to torture me, I just know it.”

  “Believe it or not, Derek, it’s not always about you.” She balances a stack of towels on her hip and heads upstairs.

  I check my email and am surprised to see one with an attachment. It’s a quick note from Tony.

  Thought you’d like to see this.

  It was great working with you.

  I’ll keep you in mind next time

  I need a Super Stuntboy.

  I open the attached file. It’s a photograph the set photographer took last week. Tony and I are at the very top of the junkyard pile, planning our way around dozens of obstacles. Even though this is a photograph and not a video, I can hear Tony’s words as if we were standing up there now. You can do this. Take it slow and plan it out.