by Matt Fazio
As he loafed to his locker, Zobby came speeding up alongside him.
“Hey,” she said, giving him a friendly nudge with her elbow.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“I forgot my lunch card in my locker. Gotta run and get it. I’ll see ya in the cafeteria,” she said as she passed him.
“Isn’t lunch like halfway over?”
“That’s why I’m running. I was talking to Mr. Barker for a while. He really wants me to start playing an instrument.”
“That’s cool. Can I walk with you?”
“Sure. What’s up? Something wrong? Why aren’t you still in lunch?” Zobby’s line of questioning was as quickly paced as her gait.
“I dunno. It’s just some stuff with the guys.”
Zobby slowed down. “What happened?”
“Just some stupid stuff,” Drew said.
“What kind of stupid stuff?”
“I dunno. It’s nothing.”
“Oh. Well, it happens. It’ll probably blow over. Hey, on Saturday I got in a big fight with Mary Beth. I was over her house and her brother was playing wiffle ball with his friends and they needed an extra player. So I played because, why not, ya know? But Mary Beth wouldn’t play. Then she was mad at me because I wasn’t hanging out with her. I said she should’ve played, too. Then she said I wanted to be a boy. Like, just because I played wiffle ball doesn’t mean I wanna be a boy, ya know? I’m just good at wiffle ball. I dunno. I guess she was just mad ‘cause I was playing with them instead of her. But the next day she wasn’t mad anymore and everything was back to normal. We never even had to talk about it, ya know? Sometimes we get mad at each other, but then things go back to normal. Maybe that’s what being friends is all about.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Drew.
Zobby snatched her lunch card from her locker. “Well, I’m starving, so let’s go.”
On their way back to the cafeteria, Zobby asked, “You excited for Tia’s birthday party on Saturday? I think it’s from eleven ‘til three. Did you know they have a pool where music plays underwater? Isn’t that like, the coolest thing ever? My mom can take us if you need a ride.”
“I can’t go.”
“What do you mean you can’t go? Your girlfriend Skylar Jansen is in the same dance class as Tia, so she’s gonna be there!” She completed her mockery by making kissing noises.
“First off, she’s not my girlfriend. We just talk sometimes. And second, I have to do something on Saturday.”
“With your dad?”
“No, it’s pretty much the reason things are so weird with me and the guys right now.”
“Well,” Zobby said as they entered the cafeteria, “you obviously don’t wanna tell me what it is. But whatever it is, I’d try to get out of it. I wouldn’t wanna miss this party.”
****
On Friday afternoon, as social studies class was about to end, the students were gathering their things and getting ready to go home. Mr. Sawyer was standing near Drew, Jeff, and Tommy, while Caleb was talking to Danny a few feet away.
“Anyone have fun plans for the weekend?” Mr. Sawyer asked.
“Tia’s having a huge birthday party tomorrow,” said Tommy.
“It’s gonna be awesome,” said Jeff. He turned to Drew. “You’re going, right?”
“No, I have to paint a fence tomorrow.”
“Well, hey, painting can be fun,” said Mr. Sawyer. “You like to paint, right?”
“Well, yeah …”
“Where’s the fence? Your backyard?” Mr. Sawyer asked.
“No, I have to paint a neighbor’s fence ‘cause I accidentally hit a baseball through his window,” said Drew, as if that was what really happened. It was as if he had told the lie so many times that he forgot it was a lie in the first place.
Jeff and Tommy exchanged nervous glances, as if they were wondering if Drew was tempted to tell Mr. Sawyer the truth. Caleb, oblivious to the conversation, was giggling and playing a hand-slap game with Danny.
Mr. Sawyer smiled. “I’ve been there.”
“You’ve been to Mr. Kaminsky’s house?” Drew asked.
“No, Drew, I mean I’ve broken some windows in my day.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really?” said Jeff.
“Sure. One time, I was about your age, maybe a little older, and my friends and I were having a snowball fight. We were firing those babies at each other. We were behind our fort, and my buddy was making them while I was throwing them. He handed me one and I threw it without realizing it was actually a big chunk of ice.”
“Oh, man,” said Tommy. “What happened?”
“Luckily for my target, he ducked. But it flew over him and smashed the windshield of a car.”
“No way! You can’t smash a windshield with a snowball,” said Tommy.
“I did. Things can break pretty easily when it’s very cold out.”
“How much trouble did you get in?” Jeff asked.
“And how hard did you throw it?” added Tommy.
“I threw it about as hard as I could. Anyway, I thought a vein was going to pop out of my dad’s forehead when he was yelling at me. But I ended up with a punishment similar to Drew’s.”
“What do you mean?” Drew asked.
“The car belonged to a woman named Miss Barr. I agreed to shovel her sidewalk and driveway every day for the rest of that winter. So every morning I got up early, and if it had snowed that night, I walked up to her house and shoveled. And if it snowed throughout the day, I went and shoveled in the afternoon.”
“That stinks,” said Tommy. “I’d never wanna do that.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” said Mr. Sawyer. “But Miss Barr told me something that I’ve always remembered, even though it didn’t mean much to me at the time. She said, ‘When you have to do something you don’t want to do, do it with a smile on your face. You’ll find that it’s not so bad after all.’”
The boys looked at their teacher blankly.
“I like that advice,” said Mr. Sawyer. “Anyway, you said it was an accident, right?”
“Yeah, it was totally an accident,” said Drew without looking at his friends.
“The way I look at it,” the young teacher said, “every kid is allowed one broken window.”
All three boys smiled.
“You gotta let kids be kids, right?” said Tommy.
“I think so,” Mr. Sawyer answered. “You’ve got to let kids be kids. Otherwise, the balance of the universe is disrupted.”
****
“Hey, Drew, hold up,” Jeff yelled.
Drew was already heading out the door of the school.
“Listen, man,” said Jeff, catching his breath, “I’m sorry.”
Drew looked at his best friend without changing his facial expression.
“Okay,” he said.
“I didn’t know what to do, and I thought I’d get in a ton of trouble,” said Jeff. “And I thought you woulda run, too. I didn’t think you’d stay behind.”
As they talked, Tommy caught up to where they were standing.
“It’s okay,” said Drew.
“No, it’s not,” Jeff went on. “I’m the one who broke the window. I should be the one in trouble, not you.”
“Yeah, but if you say it’s you now, we’ll all get in trouble,” said Tommy. “Plus Drew will get in trouble for lying.”
It was clear that Tommy had already considered what would happen if the boys came clean.
“Drew’s the man for not ratting us out,” he said, putting his arm around him. “’Cept he does have a thick skull …” He lightly knocked on Drew’s head with his knuckles. “You gotta learn to run away, man! My brother taught me that when I was like five.”
Drew shrugged his shoulder to get Tommy’s big arm off. “Oh well, can’t do anything now.”
“I really feel bad,” said Jeff. “Are you at least coming to any of Tia’s party tomorrow?”
“No,
I’m painting tomorrow, probably all day.”
“What if you finish early?”
“Doesn’t matter. My parents said I’m not going anywhere all weekend. That’s the other part of my punishment.”
“Wow, that’s the worst,” said Tommy. “This party is gonna be sick! I heard there’s gonna be a hypnotist there to make people do stupid stuff.”
“I didn’t know you were friends with Tia,” said Drew. “Do you ever talk to her?”
“No, I’m not, I mean, she’s okay I guess. Everyone’s invited, so it doesn’t really matter. I dunno, it’ll be cool,” stumbled Tommy. “Anyways, I gotta go see if me and Caleb are riding to the party together. I’ll see you guys later.”
Jeff looked at Drew sincerely. “Is there anything I can do? You know, to make it up to you.”
“It’s fine, man,” said Drew. “Don’t worry about it. And this way you’ll be able to work on your neighbor’s house soon, get the money, and get your bike.”
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Last night my dad asked me how much I saved for the bike. After I told him I was only fifteen bucks short he was like, ‘I’m proud of you for saving up for something you wanted.’ And then he told me he wants to open a bank account for me and put in the money I saved, and at first I thought he wasn’t letting me buy the bike, ya know? But then he took me out to the driveway and showed me the brand new bike he bought me! It’s so awesome.”
“That’s great, man. I can’t wait to take it for a test ride.”
“For sure. It’s so fast.”
As the two walked home, Jeff talked about all the features of his new bike: the sparkling, navy blue paint, the 24-inch wheels, the handlebar brakes, and even a set of axle foot pegs.
All the while, Drew mulled over the recent events. He had originally stayed to take the blame so Jeff would be able to keep his bike money. Then Mr. Kaminsky didn’t even ask for money for the broken window, and now Jeff’s dad bought him the bike anyway.
Drew was happy that someone took the blame, because Mr. Kaminsky didn’t deserve to have his window broken. But, Drew thought, why does it have to be me?
****
Saturday morning Drew stood in Mr. Kaminsky’s backyard staring at an unpainted wooden fence that might as well have extended forever. He tried to convince himself that this could somehow be fun, but standing there with the daunting task ahead was downright painful.
An open can of white paint sat on the ground. Next to it was a plastic package containing two brand new paintbrushes. Mr. Kaminsky opened the package and handed a brush to Drew. He took the other brush, dipped it in the paint, and showed Drew the proper fence-painting technique.
After his short demonstration, he set the brush down and said, “You have everything you need. I have to go run some errands, but I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He lifted his sunglasses and scanned the entire fence. “Maybe you’ll be done by then,” he said in a tone Drew couldn’t differentiate between sarcastic and sincere.
As Drew painted, each minute felt like ten. It seemed impossible that he would ever be able to finish. He occasionally stepped back to check his progress, but the white section of the fence seemed like a speck compared to what was still left to paint. Painting with his dad had been fun. This was not. Looking at the fence, he didn’t see the beauty he saw in the ocean scene drawing, nor did he feel the same pride he felt when painting the swing set. Instead, all he saw was uneven paint dripping down the wood, and all he felt was frustration toward the whole situation.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. I didn’t even break the stupid window.
“Hello,” said a voice from the yard next door.
A young boy’s face peeked over the fence. Looking through the planks of the fence, Drew could see that the boy was standing on a patio chair.
“Hi,” Drew nodded and continued painting.
“Whatcha doin’?” the boy asked.
“Painting this fence.”
“That’s Mr. Kaminsky’s fence.”
“Yeah,” said Drew.
“Are kids even allowed to paint fences?”
“Yeah, kids are allowed to paint fences.”
“How old are you?”
“Eleven.”
“I just turned six.” As the boy talked, his eyes went up and down with each stroke of the brush.
Drew looked up at him again. “Were you just eating a fudgesicle?”
“Yeah, how’d you know that?” the boy asked, sounding shocked that Drew could be privy to such secret information.
“You have chocolate all over your face,” said Drew.
“Oh,” said the boy. “Hey, can I do that too?”
“Do what?”
“Paint. I never knowed kids were allowed to paint fences. Can I do it, too?”
“Wait, you mean you want to paint this fence?”
The boy shook his head up and down.
“Wouldn’t you rather go play or something?”
“I wanna play painting that fence. You get to do what grown-ups do. I wanna know what it’s like to be a grown-up. Don’t you?”
“I dunno. Wouldn’t you rather just do kid stuff, though?”
“I was. I was running around pretending I was a airplane. See, like this …” The boy stuck his arms straight out to his sides and glided around in a circle. “You ever been on a airplane?” he asked.
“Yeah, once,” said Drew.
“Wow, I wanna ride on a airplane someday. What was it like?”
“It was cool, I guess. It was a while ago. I was about your age, maybe a little younger. I flew to the beach with my parents …”
A brief pang of affection shot through Drew and quickly disappeared.
“It was weird because when we took off, my ears popped. It happens to some people on airplanes,” he continued.
The boy covered his ears with his hands. “I don’t want my ears to pop off.”
Drew laughed. “No, your ears don’t pop off.”
“My mom says airplanes go fast. How fast did yours go?” The boy no longer seemed worried about his ears popping off.
“I’m not sure,” said Drew, “but once you’re up in the air, it doesn’t even feel like you’re going fast at all.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“I bet we look like ants to people on airplanes,” the boy mused. “I hope I get to go on one someday. But now I just pretend I am one. Can I help you paint? I’ll do a good job. I’ll be careful, I promise. I watched you do it. I’ll do it the same way.”
Drew looked at the second paintbrush lying next to the paint can. What harm is there in letting the kid help if he wants to? Besides, I didn’t deserve this punishment anyway. And if he helps, we can be done before Mr. Kaminsky even gets home.
“All right, come on over. I got a brush for you and everything. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Trevor.”
“Okay, Trevor – wait, Trevor?”
“Uh huh.”
Drew nearly dropped his paintbrush. He suddenly found himself thinking about Trevor Lambert and the cheat sheet. He remembered the saying Trevor had told him: Every time you don’t get caught for something you did, you will get caught for something you didn’t do. I never got in trouble for planting that cheat sheet on Trevor, but then I got in trouble for breaking the window, even though it wasn’t even me. Drew remembered how free Trevor felt after serving his punishment.
“Can I have the other brush now?”
“Actually,” said Drew, “I’m gonna paint the fence myself. I kinda have to.”
Young Trevor’s head hung low.
“Okay,” he moped and returned to his side of the fence.
“You like pretending you’re an airplane, right?” Drew asked through the fence.
“Yeah, it’s fun.”
“Then you should go ahead and do that. It’ll be a lot more fun than painting this fence.”
“Okay,” said the boy. He stuck out his arms and resumed flying
around his yard.
Each brush stroke on the fence was one step closer to finishing the job. Drew took a short break and backed away from the fence. He was just over the halfway mark.
“Looking good, look-ing good,” said Mr. Kaminsky as he approached the fence with a big bag in his hands. “What do you say I grab us some iced tea and you can take a break?”
After putting the bag in the house, Mr. Kaminsky reemerged with two glasses of iced tea.
“You always want to make sure you cover the paint can when you aren’t using it,” he said. “It gets funky when you let it sit.”
Drew nodded and covered the can. The two sat on the back porch and drank their iced tea silently. Just as Drew finished his drink and stood up to resume working, Mr. Kaminsky said, “You know I know you didn’t break that window, right?”
Every bit of color Drew’s face had gained under the morning sun disappeared at once.
“Listen, calm down. You’re not in trouble,” said Mr. Kaminsky. He motioned for Drew to sit.
Drew sat back down and remained silent. Has Mr. Kaminsky known all along?
The man leaned back in his chair and took another sip of iced tea. “Your story, it didn’t add up. You said you hit the ball through my window. But you didn’t have a bat with you. Where was the bat?” He turned the glass in his hand and looked at it for a moment. “In fact, you still had a glove on when I saw you.”
“It’s just I –”
“No, no.” Mr. Kaminsky motioned with his free hand for Drew to stop. He leaned forward and his voice took on a sterner tone. “No explanation necessary. I want you to know, it takes a man to stick up for his friends. And that’s admirable. But don’t lie to your mom, all right? She doesn’t deserve to be lied to.”
Drew nodded. Mr. Kaminsky leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I guess your friends pulled off a real hit-and-run,” he said, chuckling at his own joke.
Drew stared up at Mr. Kaminsky, who was just now finishing his iced tea. With his head tilted back and the sunlight reflecting off his glasses, he looked younger than before.
“This can be our secret, all right?”
“All right,” said Drew, standing up again.
“Oh, just get out of here. I’ll finish up,” said Mr. Kaminsky, slowly getting to his feet.