by Matt Fazio
Drew took a nervous gulp of air and continued. “Well, uh, someone drew this picture in here, and I was wondering if it was you.”
“And if it was, what are you gonna do, tell on me or something? Go ‘head, tell the principal, I don’t care. Seriously, I don’t care.” He shoved a pizza roll into his mouth, but it was obviously still too hot. His eyes widened, and he took a series of quick breaths with his mouth open.
“No, no, uh, someone else was asking and I just thought I’d check,” said Drew. He hadn’t planned on lying, but he blurted out the words anyway. It was just easier.
He opened the book and showed Jason the picture. Jason’s eyes passed over it without the slightest change in his expression.
“Wasn’t me,” he said. “If it was a picture of a car or something, maybe. But a picture of some dumb beach wouldn’t be me.”
“Okay, just checking, thanks,” said Drew. “Uh, see ya.”
He scuttled out of the living room and crept back down the stairs. He slid his science book into his book bag and removed his wallet from its side pocket. He paused and glanced over at the couch; Tommy was still out cold. He pulled the list from his wallet and examined it. Then he took a black marker from his book bag and crossed Jason Porter off his list. Now only two names remained: Mike Hudock and Stacey Janofsky.
****
Drew tried to call Jeff over the weekend but couldn’t get ahold of him. On Sunday he checked the obituary in the newspaper and found the listing for Jeff’s Pap, Jeffrey Joseph Shelley. Jeff’s name was listed as one of the grandchildren. Drew knew that under different circumstances, Jeff would have thought it was so cool to see his own name in the newspaper.
Pap’s funeral was on Monday. When Jeff returned to school on Tuesday, he had to do make-up work in the library for most of the morning, so Drew and Tommy didn’t get a chance to talk to him until lunch.
“Long time no see,” said Tommy as the boys sat down at their table in the cafeteria.
Jeff smiled faintly. “Yeah, I know.”
“I got a ham sandwich and chips,” said Tommy, dumping everything from his brown paper bag. “What about you guys?”
“Peanut butter and jelly,” said Jeff. “And vanilla pudding.”
“I’m buying,” said Drew. “I forgot my lunch this morning.”
“Man, on Tuna Fish Tuesday? That’s the worst!” said Tommy.
“Yeah,” Drew sighed. “Oh well.”
He went to get his lunch and returned in under a minute (the line was never long on Tuna Fish Tuesdays). As he sat down, Tommy was proposing a trade to Jeff.
“How about your pudding for my chips?”
Jeff considered. He looked to Drew. Drew nodded his approval, and the exchange was made.
“Good deal,” said Tommy.
“Yeah, I like to put the chips on my sandwich,” said Jeff.
Tommy turned to Drew, who was prodding his tuna fish sandwich as if it were a science experiment and not his lunch, and said, “Hey, that tuna looks pretty good, but I’d rather eat your BRAINS!”
The two boys broke out in howling laughter.
“What’s that mean?” asked Jeff.
“That’s what this one kid says in Zombie Days,” Tommy answered.
“What? You guys saw Zombie Days?” said Jeff. He looked confused, but Drew couldn’t tell for sure.
“Yeah,” said Tommy.
“Without me? When?”
“Friday,” Tommy mumbled, his mouth full of ham sandwich. “My mom took us since yours couldn’t.”
The confusion on Jeff’s face was joined by anger. He dropped the bag of potato chips to the table.
“Because my … you … my Pap died!”
The boys sat in awkward silence for several moments. The rest of the cafeteria was bustling with lunchroom noise, but Drew felt he could have heard a pin drop. He waited for Jeff to say something, but Jeff just sat there with his arms crossed and his lips sealed.
Finally Drew broke the silence. “Jeff, you okay?”
Jeff didn’t answer. He picked up his lunch, leaving the chips on the table, and moved to an empty seat at the next table over. He didn’t talk to Drew or Tommy the rest of the day. When school was over, he quickly gathered his things and got a head start home. Drew tried to catch up, but it was useless. By the time he got to the closed bridge, Jeff was gone.
****
When Drew got home from school, his mom was waiting for him. He could feel her eyes on him as he walked through the front door and into the living room.
“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, Andrew.”
Drew’s stomach sank. He took off his coat and sat down on the other end of the couch. The strange thing, though, was that he wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. Normally when his mom or dad called him “Andrew,” he knew exactly why, even if he pretended not to. But this time was different. Something had felt off, especially since lunch, but he couldn’t figure out why. He felt guilty, but at the same time he felt like he truly had done nothing wrong.
“I ran into Mrs. Goyle today,” said Penny, “and she told me Mrs. Gray’s father, Jeff’s grandfather, passed away on Friday. Is that why Jeff couldn’t go to the movie?”
Drew could tell she already knew the answer.
“Yeah,” he said, almost in a whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me that when you called me on Friday?”
“I dunno. I … I guess I felt weird telling you someone died. I didn’t know what to do.”
After a pause, Penny said, “And how’s Jeff doing? Did he talk to you about it?”
“He was really sad on Friday. He was crying and everything – not in front of us, but we could tell he was. And then today he got really mad when we said we saw the movie. But I still don’t get it. All I did was see a movie. And now Jeff hates me.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t hate you,” said Penny.
“Was it wrong to go to the movie? I mean, I wanted him to be able to go, but he couldn’t. So I guess I was wrong, huh?”
“No, going to the movie wasn’t wrong. There isn’t really a right or wrong when it comes to these things. It’s … it’s just a tough thing to deal with, that’s all. Jeff was, and still is, going through a difficult time. He’s hurting, and you have to understand that.”
“Well, now he’s really mad at me, and I don’t know what to do,” said Drew.
“You could give him a call and see how he’s doing,” Penny suggested.
“But he won’t talk to me.”
“He’ll appreciate if you still try. He’s going through a process, that’s all. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, I’m sure he wants to have his best friend by his side during a tough time.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” said Drew. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but he had to do something.
“Drew,” Penny said before he walked out of the room, “you’re a good kid.” She stood up and hugged her son. “This is just one of those tough times. You two will be okay. I promise.”
Drew went to the kitchen and sat there for several minutes. Finally he picked up the phone and dialed Jeff’s number. He was nervous as he dialed, unsure if Jeff was still upset. Unsure if he would even talk to him. Unsure if he still wanted to be friends at all. A part of Drew hoped no one would answer. It would be much easier to face the impartial voicemail than the scornful rage of Jeff. But after two rings, the phone clicked. Drew’s heart jumped into his throat.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mr. Gray. This is Drew. Um, is Jeff there?”
“Sure, Drew. Hold on just a minute.”
Drew could hear Mr. Gray calling for his son: “Jeff, Drew’s on the phone.”
Drew cringed. He almost expected to hear Jeff yelling back to his dad, expressing no interest in talking to his now former friend.
“I don’t wanna talk to that jerk,” he imagined him saying.
“Hello?” It was Jeff.
“Hey, uh, hey, Jeff.”
“He
y, Drew.”
There was a pause. Drew waited for Jeff to say something else, but he knew Jeff well enough to know that he was doing the same.
“What’s up?” Drew asked.
“Nothing. What’s up?” Jeff responded quietly.
“Uh, nothin’. I just, well, you seemed like you were in a hurry after school, and … I’m sorry we saw the movie without you. You were hurting, and I should’ve understood that,” Drew said, unsure of what it really even meant.
Jeff took a few seconds to respond. Drew braced himself. He was afraid of what Jeff might say, but the silent anticipation was even more unbearable.
“It’s okay,” Jeff said finally. “I was just sad about Pap. I didn’t … I just didn’t think you’d see Zombie Days. Everything has just been so crazy, you know? I dunno. I didn’t know what to do. But I guess I wasn’t really mad at you.”
Again Drew thought back to the storm. He remembered how, even though he had only been mad about the swing set, it had frustrated him into feeling anger toward everyone and everything else, too.
“Yeah, I understand,” he said.
Another moment of awkward silence passed. Jeff seemed like he wasn’t mad anymore, but Drew still wasn’t sure.
“Oh, by the way,” he said, “this one kid in Zombie Days, he’s so cool. He reminds me of you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. A couple times I forgot what I was watching, and I was thinking like it actually was you. Do you wanna go see it on Friday? I mean, you still wanna see it, right?”
“I mean, yeah, definitely,” said Jeff. “You wanna see it again, though?”
“Sure. I wanted to see it with you in the first place. Besides, I like seeing movies a second time. I always miss stuff the first time.”
“All right, yeah. That’ll be cool.”
Drew was relieved. The phone call he had dreaded making had settled into a friendly conversation. Still, even if things were back to normal between the two boys, Drew knew things would never be quite the same for Jeff.
“Cool. So you and your Pap were really close, right?”
“Yeah, I mean, he was sick for a while. But we actually thought he was getting better. That’s why it was so surprising. But I used to visit with him all the time.”
“You liked to golf with him, right?” asked Drew.
“Yeah, we went mini golfing all the time. He loved golf.”
Drew sat and listened. Somehow he knew it was exactly the thing to do.
“He’d always be winning by a lot,” Jeff continued, “but then on the last couple holes he’d mess up on purpose so I could catch up and I would end up winning. I never realized when I was little. I just thought he got tired or something. But then the last time we played, it was like, October I think, I realized he was letting me win. I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before. It just hit me all of a sudden. And sometimes he would swing and miss and say the sun was in his eyes. Even if it was cloudy or nighttime. He was always joking around.”
“It sounds like he was really cool,” said Drew.
“Yeah, he really was. Sometimes when he had a real easy shot, like the ball was only a couple inches from the hole, he would yell ‘Fore!’ like real golfers do when they hit the ball really far, and then he’d just tap it in real easy.”
Both boys laughed. They talked for a few more minutes until Drew heard someone on the other end say something to Jeff.
“Hey, I have to go,” said Jeff. “Someone beeped in twice already and my mom’s been waiting for a couple calls.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll see ya tomorrow,” said Drew.
“See ya tomorrow.”
Drew hung up the phone. Mom was right, he realized. Jeff wasn’t really mad at me. He was sad about losing his Pap.
After grabbing a granola bar from the cupboard and his book bag from the floor, Drew went up to his room. He sat down at his desk and turned to his affairs, which consisted of 15 long division problems in his math book and a worksheet on adverbs.
Hardball
It was a warm Sunday afternoon in late March. The air was soft and lazy and filled with optimism. The snow from the last few months had melted away, and the birds had returned home to sing songs celebrating its disappearance. Colds and coats were being replaced with allergies and sweatshirts. All evidence suggested that winter’s grip had loosened and spring was ready to make its welcome return.
Drew was as excited as anyone for the seasonal shift, because the arrival of spring meant the arrival of baseball. Practice hadn’t officially started yet, but, knowing the temperature would fluctuate throughout the upcoming weeks, Drew called his friends and suggested they take advantage of the warm weather.
He waited by the curb a few doors up from his house. He seemed to always be running late for school, but, miraculously, he was always early when it came to baseball.
“Hello, Drew.”
Drew looked over and saw his neighbor kneeling on a soft pad on the ground, working in her garden.
“Hey, Mrs. McGrath, what’s up?”
“Oh, cleaning up the garden. It’s finally that time of year again. What are you up to?”
“I’m waiting for my friends. They’ll be here soon,” said Drew. He smiled and held up his baseball mitt. “Finally time for baseball, too,” he added, smacking the palm of his mitt with the back of his right fist.
Mrs. McGrath smiled and continued yanking the weeds from her garden.
“How’s school going?” she asked.
“Pretty good. The last quarter starts soon, so that’s good.”
“And how’s your dad? I see him picking you up sometimes, but I haven’t talked to him in a while.”
“He’s good,” said Drew. He stopped smacking his mitt so he could answer the question more thoroughly. “Well, he’s really good. I think he might get a promotion at work. He works a lot – hey, what are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” said Mrs. McGrath. “I’m just gardening.”
“Yeah, I saw you pull the weeds and turn over the soil. I get that. But why are you ripping the dandelions out?”
“Oh, because they don’t belong there.”
“Why not?”
“They just don’t.” She pointed to a group of red flowers and said, “I planted the tulips, and they’re about ready to bloom.” She nodded at the yellow flowers to her left. “And the daffodils, too. Oh, and those lavender ones, those are my crocuses. They’re the first to bloom every year. I just love them. But the dandelions, they came up all on their own.”
“But don’t you think dandelions are pretty, too? Like, by themselves?”
“Well,” said Mrs. McGrath, “I guess I do.”
“Then why would you get rid of them?”
“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you,” Mrs. McGrath laughed. “I guess because it just isn’t the right place for them. I purposely planted my flowers where I did. All in a row, all in a line. But dandelions just sprout out wherever they feel like. They just … they aren’t planned, that’s all.”
Jeff appeared at the end of the street, a navy blue baseball hat on his head and his mitt on his hand. He waved as he made his way toward Drew.
“All right, my friend’s here. See you later, Mrs. McGrath.”
“Bye, Drew. Have fun.”
Moments after Jeff arrived, a car pulled up and Caleb hopped out, his Emerson baseball hat from last year concealing his long dark hair. All three boys wore hats as a silent reminder that baseball season was around the corner. Drew wore his Pirates hat all the time, while the others reserved their hats for playing baseball or attending baseball games.
Drew had kept his distance from Caleb since their adventure to The Shack. The only times he had spoken to him were when Tommy would include him in a conversation at school. Luckily, Caleb sat with his hockey friends at lunch, and Drew did his best to avoid him otherwise. He still wasn’t thrilled with the kid who had fought with Zobby and ditched them in the woods, but he figured it was
best to put their differences aside and focus on playing ball. He decided it was probably best not to invite Zobby on days when Tommy invited Caleb. That way there would be less fighting.
Each boy had his mitt on his hand, and, just like always, Tommy brought the bat and ball. No one ever needed to ask who would supply those two items. It had become Tommy’s duty long ago, and he embraced it. The three other boys stood by the curb as Tommy made his way toward them from his house. As soon as he was within throwing distance, he reached back and heaved the ball.
“Catch!”
The three boys jostled for position and reached out as the ball came toward them. It landed in Drew’s mitt a bit harder than he expected.
“Wait, this is a hardball,” he said.
“Yeah,” said Tommy, now standing just a few feet away.
“But we’re playing in the street, so we have to use a tennis ball. Our parents have told us like a hundred times.”
“I couldn’t find a tennis ball. I think Link chewed ‘em all up,” said Tommy, turning his hat backwards.
“Oh. I can go find one –”
“What for?” Caleb interjected. “Tennis balls are for babies.”
“Yeah,” said Tommy. “I don’t wanna stand around while you look for a tennis ball. Don’t worry, we’ll be careful.”
Drew felt convinced enough. If they were responsible enough to go to Melia’s on their own, they were responsible enough to play a little hardball in the street.
“All right, let’s play.”
****
The four boys walked to the end of the street where there weren’t any cars. Then they spread out and began to catch. Drew set his feet and threw the ball to Jeff, who in turn threw to Tommy, who reared back and fired to Caleb. Caleb’s first throw to Drew bounced a few feet in front of him and skipped past.
As Drew sprinted down the street for the ball, Caleb yelled, “That was my curve.”
The boys continued to throw in this square-like shape.
“Hey, did you save up enough money for your bike yet?” Drew asked Jeff.
Jeff had wanted a new bike for a while but didn’t get one for Christmas. So now he had to save enough money to buy it himself.