by Jonah Black
Oh. I got a phone call from Thorne about an hour ago. He was still trying to get me to go to this party with the St. Winnifred’s crowd tonight. But I’m definitely not in the mood. I’d probably run into that girl Molly Beale again, and she’d accuse me of being full of crap for running out on her at that UCF party. Maybe she’s right, too. I should have ditched Sophie and stayed at the party. Molly and I could be hanging out by the pool right now. I could show her my dives. I’m not sure I could handle Molly right now anyway—she’s pretty intense.
Just before we hung up Thorne said, “Hey, Jonah. Good news. I talked to my dad. He’s really looking forward to you working on the Scrod next summer.”
Happy New Year to me. I guess I’ll just go watch the ball drop on TV like a loser.
Jan. 1, noon
This has to be one of the last entries in this journal. Not only because I’m almost out of pages, and not only because it’s a new year, but because of what happened last night. I think I should stop writing stuff down, unless I want to go down in history as the lamest creature alive.
Here goes.
At about eleven forty-five I got on my bike and decided, the hell with everything, I’ll just go for a long ride. Get a little perspective, some exercise.
It was a beautiful night. I could see all the stars. There was Orion, and the Little Dog, and the Twins. Over beneath the handle of the Big Dipper was Arcturus, smoking his pipe.
Thorne and I were in Cub Scouts when we were ten, and we learned the names of the constellations at a winter bonfire. My dad taught us. That’s one of my better memories of Dad.
Anyway, I turned down Route 1 and went past the golf course, and threaded my way around the old baseball park. I was riding one-handed because of the cast. I remembered the long summer days playing baseball in that park, standing in the outfield, watching Posie hit home runs over my head.
I rode past the amphitheater and down along 8th Street, past the little houses, all lit up blue by television lights. Everything seemed very quiet and I thought about all the people sitting on their sofas, watching the ball drop at the exact same time.
And then I went north and there was the Goodyear blimp, all lit up by spotlights, sitting in the hangar. I stopped the bike for a second and just looked at the blimp, and suddenly I started laughing and laughing.
I mean, if somebody had walked past they would have thought, Here’s some kid with a broken arm who’s lost his mind. But I couldn’t help it. It’s that stupid blimp. It was just the dumbest thing. So useless. And suddenly everything I’d been through—even breaking my stupid arm in It’s a Small World—especially that—seemed completely hilarious.
So I rode back across to Federal Highway along Copans Road, and then I cruised over to the ocean. Once again I climbed the lifeguard tower and I thought, I have to find out what happened to Pops Berman. I could really use his advice right now.
I watched the stars some more. There was a big bright one in the Twins, and I knew it was some planet, but I wasn’t sure which one.
And that’s when I realized I already knew exactly what Pops would tell me to do if he was there. He’d say, “Go walk the doggy, Chipper!” That made me laugh some more. I’m turning into a real nutcase.
So I got back on the bike and rode up to Lighthouse Estates and pulled over in front of the Hoffs’ house. Posie’s car was there and I saw her as I pulled into the driveway, with her head out her bedroom window, looking up at the stars. She didn’t see me, because she was just staring up at the heavens. I felt so happy seeing her there, I wanted to shout out loud.
But I was feeling kind of sneaky and silly so I crept around the side of the house and snuck in through the dog door so I could surprise her. I remembered sneaking in that doggy door when we were kids, back when Posie had a dog called Pretzel. It seemed like a long time ago.
No one else was home—I could tell because the house was very dark and still. I got to the top of the stairs and I thought I heard a soft sound and I thought maybe Posie was crying. I’d broken up with her and left her alone on New Year’s Eve. I felt terrible. But I was about to make it all up to her.
I pushed open the door and there she was. My Posie. My real love. Rolling around on the bed with Lamar Jameson.
A second later I was on my way out the dog door again. Except this time I got stuck. Posie and Lamar were going to come down the stairs any second and yell at me and ask me what I thought I was doing, and I wondered why I thought it was necessary to go out the dog door on the way out, when I could have just used the stupid door. Pretzel hadn’t been a very big dog in the first place, and I was seriously wedged.
While I was trying to squirm my way out, I thought about Sophie, lying on my hotel bed, crying. And I thought, What a sad world it is. Full of heartbreak and who the hell knows what else.
And just like that I was out the door. I got back on my bike and I looked back up at the house. No one was coming after me. No one even knew I was alive.
So I came back home and took off my clothes and lay down on top of my bed, and then I felt this thing digging into my back. I rolled over and there was the Polaroid I’d taken of myself before Christmas. My last day as a virgin.
I still look exactly the same.
Jan. 3
Okay, here’s what happened last night while I was lying in bed.
I heard a familiar sound. A boat out on Cocoabutter Creek, the engine shutting down, then the rope going over our dock, and her feet coming up the lawn. The tap on my door.
I turned.
“Yo, Jonah,” said Posie. “Come on. Let’s take a ride.”
I got up and on the way out the door I grabbed the telescope.
I sat down in the cockpit next to Posie and she looked over at my broken arm and read where it said Marry me, Jonah. She just shook her head and laughed. Then she started up the motor and we cast off. We moved quietly through the canals, past all the sleeping houses. Posie was wearing her red bikini, a blue fleece jacket, and a Marlins cap backward on her head. I don’t know how many times Posie has shown up at my house late at night in her boat and said, “Come on, Jonah, let’s take a ride.” Too many times to count.
We didn’t talk. We just followed the canal out to Lighthouse Point and then out into the ocean.
There were so many things I wanted to say to her. Like how Sophie wasn’t what I’d hoped or expected. She was like a witch, disappearing into cobwebs. Or that I’d seen Posie at the UCF party but I didn’t say hi because I was ashamed. Or that I saw her in the Haunted House with her little sister, Caitlin, and she looked so happy. And how later, when I saw my own reflection at the end of the ride, I didn’t even recognize myself. That I’d seen her with Lamar.
But I didn’t say any of those things. I just sat there listening to the outboard roaring, and watching the lights from shore growing smaller and smaller.
Then I got a big lump in my throat because the last time we came out to the ocean like this was when it all started between us. That was the night Posie and I first said that we were in love and we almost had sex. I wished I hadn’t broken up with her. I wished I’d realized how perfect she is for me.
Anyway, we got about a half mile offshore, and the ocean was very calm and the stars were bright. Posie cut the motor and we drifted there. She reached under her seat and handed me a thermos. It was lemonade. Sour and sweet at the same time.
“So you’re getting married, Jonah?” she said.
I shrugged and shook my head. “No. Not yet.”
She took the thermos back and took a swig. “That girl turned out to be a disappointment, huh?”
I looked at the horizon. There were some cruise ships way out in the distance. I could hear music.
“Not really a disappointment. Just not what I’d expected. She was kind of strange,” I said. “It’s like I didn’t get to meet her at all. She kept slipping out of my hands or something.”
Posie nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“What do you think is up wi
th that?” I said.
“What do I think? I don’t know.” She rubbed my shoulder with her hand. “Maybe she doesn’t want you to have her. Maybe she just wants you to want her.”
Leave it to Posie to make it all totally clear, in like, a single sentence.
“Well, I don’t want her, not anymore. I’m through with her. She’s nothing but trouble,” I said.
Posie laughed out loud. “You tell ‘em, Jonah!”
“What?” I said, indignant.
“C’mon, Jonah, who do you think you’re talking to? You’re totally in love with her. Listen to you. You’re worse off than before!”
“I’m not in love with her,” I said. I drank some more lemonade. “Or, I don’t know, maybe I am. But I know she’s really screwed up. I just have to cut her loose. You know what she did? Every time I was about to have sex with her, she started crying.”
Posie kind of flinched at this, as if she was surprised.
“That’s weird,” she said. “That’s really weird.”
“So I just have to draw a line, not allow her to take over my life anymore. I need to get back to normal,” I said. I was trying to convince myself of this. I just need to get back to normal.
Posie drank more lemonade.
“Guess you heard about Lamar and me going out now,” she said.
I nodded. Yeah, I’d heard about it all right.
There was a long silence. I wasn’t used to long silences with Posie. It felt weird.
“So you guys are pretty tight now I guess?” I said. “You and Lamar?”
Posie just nodded. “He’s pretty great,” she said.
My shoulders fell. I felt like crying.
Posie rubbed my shoulder some more. “Poor Jonah,” she said.
“Oh, I get what I deserve,” I said. “I’m such an idiot.”
“No, you’re not,” Posie said. “You’re not. And you know what, you don’t get what you deserve, Jonah. You deserve to be happy. You really do. You’re a great guy. You care about people. You’re aware of things that most guys don’t even know they should know.”
“Lucky me,” I said.
“Yes, lucky you. And lucky for the right girl, someday,” Posie said. “I mean, when you meet her.”
Again it got quiet. I looked out at the cruise ships for a while. I would love to take a cruise with Posie. I can just see her, water-skiing in her red bikini off the end of the ship, waving to me while I drink cocktails with umbrellas in them and watch her from up on deck. Sophie comes up behind me and slips her arms around my waist.
“Mmmn,” she says. We are so relaxed we don’t have to speak in words.
“Mmmn,” I whisper back to her, leaning my cheek against her. Her skin is warm and brown and smells of coconuts. We’ve been at sea a long time.
“Jonah?”
I turned back to Posie.
“I don’t suppose you and Lamar are thinking of breaking up anytime soon?” I said with a sad smile.
Posie smiled back. “Sorry, Jonah. You made your choice.”
“Yeah, but it was the wrong choice, I think,” I said lamely.
Posie started the engine. “C’mon, Jonah,” she said. “Let’s head home.”
She headed the boat back to Lighthouse Point, and as we drew closer I saw all the twinkling lights of Pompano Beach. It looked like someplace you’d want to go home to. I’m glad I live here.
A little while later Posie dropped me off at the dock in back of our house, and she kissed me. The kiss went on for a long time. It felt like a friendly kiss or a good-bye kiss or something. It wasn’t a come-on kiss, it was sad.
“Thanks for the telescope, Posie,” I said.
“You’re welcome. You never know,” she said. “One of these days you might want to get a good look at some heavenly bodies.”
“I already have,” I said.
Jan. 5
I’m just about to run out of pages in this thing, but I have to write this one last entry.
Today I was on my bike and I went up to the little record store on Federal Highway and I spent a while in there just looking at CDs and sort of looking at the girls looking at the CDs, and there was this one girl who seemed sort of familiar, although I didn’t really get a good look at her at first. She was sort of sneaking these glances at me out of the corner of her eye. So I was like, hey, this is kind of cool. But I didn’t want to act like a stalker and walk over to her and say something stupid, so I just turned my back on her and started looking through the funk CDs. Old stuff like Parliament. I guess I was hoping she’d think that was cool, that I was into funky music.
Except when I turned around she wasn’t in the store anymore.
So this kind of bummed me out because I figured, once again I’ve totally misjudged what a girl is thinking. I left the store without buying anything and I went outside, just in time to see this giant Ford Expedition totally crushing my bike beneath its tires. At first I thought I was imagining it, but no. It was happening for real.
The driver stopped the car after about two seconds. He was making a turn off of Federal Highway onto 25th Street, and I guess my bike was too close to the curb or something because he must have just nicked the back tire with his fender, which made the bike fall over and then he couldn’t help but run over the whole thing. He stopped the Expedition and I went rushing over, about to yell my head off.
But the person in the car wasn’t a guy at all. It was the girl from the record store. And I wondered, wait, did she crush my bike with her SUV just so she could talk to me? I mean, it’s devious, but it’s not out of the question. I could imagine myself doing that. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility.
The girl was standing there looking at the bike when I walked up behind her. She glanced at me. “Is this your bike?” she said.
“Yeah. Well, it was,” I said.
“Sorry.”
I wanted to yell at her, “Hey, you should look out where you’re going. What are you, stupid?” but instead I started staring at her because I realized I knew her.
“You’re Jonah Black, aren’t you?” she said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m Molly. From that party at UCF. You ditched me, remember?” she said.
“I didn’t ditch you,” I said.
“You did indeed. We were going to sit down on that zebra-skin couch and converse. One of the topics of discussion as you’ll recall was whether or not guys are completely full of crap. As I believe you’ll agree you turned out to be that night?” she said.
She talked like she was a robot or something, except that she seemed to mean everything she was saying. I didn’t know what to make of her. She was cute, though. My eyes fell to her chest, and I remembered what she’d said at the party about looking at her boobs. I blushed and looked up.
“Is that why you ran over my bike?” I said.
“Why? Because you ditched me at the party?” She laughed loudly. “You know, I wish I had. That would have been crafty.”
“So you didn’t?” I said, still a little suspicious.
“No. I just screwed up. I’m sorry. I kind of suck at driving, actually. I’m always running stuff over. Crashing into things.” She shrugged. “You want a ride?”
So she tells me she’s a terrible driver and that she’s always crashing into things, and then she wants to know if I want to ride around with her? It didn’t sound like a good offer. And yet, it seemed like it had all kinds of possibilities.
“Sure,” I said. I told her where I live.
“Welcome aboard,” said Molly.
We tossed the remains of my bike in the back and then jumped in the cab.
“What do you think of this car—do you think it’s a bullshit car?” Molly asked me, starting it up. On the stereo, a girl was singing in French. Molly turned it down.
“Well, I don’t know,” I said. “It’s not what I’d expect you to drive.”
“It’s my father’s,” Molly explained. “And yes, it is a bullshit car. It’s a gi
ant off-road vehicle, as if there’s anyplace in Florida that isn’t paved. Is there a single reason for anyone to own or drive a car like this, other than that they are on a total ego trip? No, there isn’t.”
Molly had overestimated her driving skills. She was actually the worst driver I’d ever been in a car with. We were weaving all over the place, and she ran a red light. That on top of crushing my bike. I was actually glad we were in an SUV at that moment, just so there’d be some protection when we hit whatever it was Molly was going to hit next.
“Hey, get out of my way!” Molly shouted, veering around a woman clutching her small child’s hand. This was at a crosswalk.
Seeing how Molly drives makes me feel like I should have passed my driving test, even if I did hit someone. I didn’t do it on purpose. I mean if someone walked in front of Molly’s car, she’d probably just speed up and mow them down.
“So why did you ditch me at the party, Jonah?” Molly said. “I was pretty browned off at you.”
Browned off? Who says things like browned off? I shrugged. “I just had to get out of there.”
Molly jammed on the brakes of the SUV. All of the tapes and CDs on the dash went sailing into the backseat. I was afraid she’d run over something again.
“You want to get out? You want to walk home?” she snapped.
“What?” I said.
“Don’t lie to me, okay? That’s what I liked about you in the first place, that you weren’t full of crap. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, we can keep it that way if you want. But if you want to be friends, we tell the truth. About everything. Okay?”
I nodded. She started driving again.
“Is that what you want?” I said. “To be friends?”
“Well, I think so. Assuming you don’t screw it up with a bunch of crap,” Molly answered.
“You don’t have a lot a friends, do you?” I said. I realized this just as I said it.