Sean Rosen Is Not for Sale

by Jeff Baron

  “Now what did you ask me? What the new nurse manager is like? I would tell you if I thought you were even slightly interested.”

  “I am. I swear.”

  “Why are you interested?”

  “I want you to like your job. And you thought the old nurse manager was annoying.”

  “She was. I think I’m going to like this new one.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  She was laughing at me without laughing. “Thanks, Sean. What else do you want to know about my fascinating life?”

  “What did you have for lunch today?”

  “A yogurt. An orange. And a little bag of cashews.”

  “Interesting.”

  “No it’s not. You get one more question, then I go.”

  I better make it good. “Why did you and Dad only have one kid?”

  She gave me a look like “Where did that come from?,” but she didn’t say anything.

  “Was it like you had me and you saw what it was like, and then you decided, ‘Let’s not do that again’?”

  “You don’t actually think that, do you?”

  “I don’t know. I have no idea. That’s why I asked you.”

  “Why we only had one kid?”

  “Yeah. You don’t have to tell me.”

  She looked at me like she was deciding if she wanted to or not.

  “Did you ever try to have another kid?”

  “No, Sean. We didn’t. Okay. Here’s what happened. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation, but . . . we are. Like you said, we tried it once . . . having a kid, I mean . . . and it was you. And yes, we saw what it was like. We loved it. Completely loved it. We couldn’t imagine ever being happier than we were. So we decided to stick with a good thing.”

  I thought about all that.

  Then she said, “Do you wish you had a brother or sister?”

  “No. No! Do not get pregnant. I mean, you can if you want to. But no. I like it the way we have it now too.”

  “Good.”

  “Good. Weren’t you going to ask me something?”

  I don’t know what made me so brave all of a sudden. I really do like my parents. And they’re pretty honest with me. Okay, whatever question my mom asks me right now, I’m going to tell her the truth. I swear.

  She’s thinking. This is actually exciting. She probably won’t say, “Do you have a secret identity?” Or “Are three different Hollywood studios interested in you and your ideas?” But it doesn’t matter. Whatever she asks, I’m answering.

  “What made you change your mind about staying with Grandma?”

  Close. I told you she’s good. Okay. I swore.

  “Three things. I want to find out more about Grandpa. I want you and Dad to have a good honeymoon. And I want to do research for something I’m writing.”

  “Okay. Thanks. What are you writing?”

  “I’ll show you when it’s finished. I promise. Is it okay if I get back to work? I have a lot to do.”

  “Okay.”

  “I can help clean up.”

  “Get outa here.” (She was doing an imitation of my dad.)

  “Okay. Thanks, Mom.”

  Chapter 20

  I sat down at my desk. I have a lot of different places in my room where I sometimes work—the floor, the bed, the chair—but when there’s serious business to figure out, like all these emails, I usually do it at my desk.

  I see that I got three texts while I was downstairs.

  By by dave mots

  U tryed

  Tuf luk 4 yor moovy

  Buzz. For a minute I got confused. My “moovy” is doing fine. In fact, I think there’s going to be a bidding war for it. But then I remembered that Buzz thinks “dave mots” was my manager, and now that he’s moving to Paraguay, that’s it for my moovy. Anyway, Buzz doesn’t sound mad. Good. I have enough to worry about.

  Okay. What do we do? Stefanie, Ashley, and Collectibles all want Dan Welch to call them. Sorry. He’s not going to. I once tried using Ethan as Dan Welch on the phone. Ethan sounds like a grown-up when he talks, and I wrote down exactly what I wanted him to say, but he always sounded like he was reading it.

  I could try to hire an actor, but I think if you’re an actor, you probably don’t live around here. Anyway, I don’t trust anyone to be Dan Welch except Dan Welch.

  Stefanie is really mad at Ashley, and says I shouldn’t be in business with her. Stefanie also says I shouldn’t be in business with Hank Hollywood. I like Stefanie, but I think she might be saying those things about the others because she wants to be the one who gets A Week with Your Grandparents.

  But we don’t even know yet if Hank Hollywood wants the movie, and we only just heard from Ashley. Dan Welch isn’t ready to write back to Stefanie yet.

  My phone beeped. It’s a text from Brianna.

  Gave Buzz the email from Dave Motts.

  I guess Buzz and Brianna aren’t together right now, or she would have known that he already texted me. I’m a little tempted not to text her back because she’s been pretty mean to me lately. But she’s my friend, and I like being friends with her when she’s not being mean to me.

  Thanks.

  Okay, now Ashley. I listened to the recording of the Skype meeting again, and she was the one who used the word “edgy.” You can’t really tell from the recording, but from her email it sounds like she really loves A Week with Your Grandparents. I guess we have to find out how much she loves it.

  To: Ashley __________________

  From: Dan Welch Management

  Dear Ashley,

  Thank you for all the nice things you said about Sean. I’m glad you like his podcasts. I’ll let him know. I want a donut, too.

  We appreciate the warning about the other Dan Welch. He is not our “representor.”

  Can you tell us what you have in mind for A Week with Your Grandparents?

  Best,

  Dan

  And what about Collectibles? Now that Ashley found the right Dan Welch, we don’t need him anymore. But he doesn’t know that. He still wants to be in the middle of everything, and he doesn’t want us to lose our “mojo.”

  I wasn’t sure if that’s a real word or if he meant something else and just spelled it wrong. Miss Meglis would be happy if she knew how many words I’m looking up.

  One site says your mojo is your magic spell. I don’t really believe in magic spells, even though they were fun in Harry Potter. I wouldn’t want to use a magic spell to convince someone to like my movie. I don’t think we have to.

  The other definition of mojo is self-confidence. I know that it’s possible to lose your self-confidence. Once I accidentally signed “Sean” to one of Dan Welch’s emails to Stefanie. I thought my career was over. I couldn’t stop saying mean things to myself. I lost my mojo. I’m glad I have it back.

  Collectibles acts like he has a lot of mojo, but it might not be the kind of mojo we need.

  To: Dan Welch

  From: Dan Welch Management

  Dear Dan,

  I just wanted to let you know that everything is taken care of with Sean’s movie. Thanks for offering to help.

  Congratulations for selling The Miley Fork.

  Best,

  Dan

  Chapter 21

  At the end of each school day, we have announcements. They come through the speakers into every room in the school. Last year they tried an experiment of letting students read the announcements. It only lasted a few weeks, and I got to do it one day. It was kind of fun, but I kept wanting to change things or add things to make it more entertaining.

  They stopped it because some days you’d have a kid who can’t read that well or doesn’t speak that clearly or can’t stop laughing, so you weren’t really sure what the announcement was. One day a lot of people went to the wrong town for a basketball game, and that was the end.

  I actually think the real reason the experiment ended is that our assistant principal loves making announcements. She
wanted her job back. Sometimes I think she makes up announcements so she can talk even longer. I’m not going to tell you everything she announced today, because you’ll fall asleep, but here are the two important things:

  “The yearbook staff will meet today immediately after school in the Publication Room. There is absolutely no reason to be late.”

  I’m sure she added that last part herself. I’m one of the editors, and that doesn’t sound like something that Mr. Hollander, our advisor, would ever say.

  “Directly following these announcements, all seventh graders will be handed information packets and permission slips for the seventh-grade class trip. As you may know, the last three seventh-grade classes did not have a trip. We are conditionally restoring this privilege. Please behave.”

  Of course everyone wants to know where the trip is to. People started guessing. “Disney World!” “Washington, D.C.!” “Paris!” (That was Brianna.) Then we got the handouts. None of the guesses were even close. It’s a place I never heard of—Pine Tree Wilderness Retreat. The minute I saw the words “sleeping bags,” I knew I wasn’t going. I don’t sleep in a bag.

  Walking in the hall after class, I said that to Ethan. I guess I like the sound of it.

  “Sorry. I don’t sleep in a bag.”

  “Why not? It’s fun.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “You don’t sleep on the ground in a sleeping bag. We’ll be on cots. In cabins.”

  “You’ll be on cots in cabins.”

  “You’re not gonna go?”

  “No. I like a nice bed in a nice room, all by myself.”

  “Didn’t you ever go to camp?”

  “Not sleepaway camp. Did you?”

  “Once. It’s really fun.”

  “Ethan, I believe you. I mean, I believe that you think it’s fun. I don’t believe that I would think it’s fun.”

  “Have you ever tried it?”

  “No, and I don’t want to.”

  He looked kind of sad. I said, “What?”

  “If you’re not going, I’m not gonna go.”

  “Why not? Ethan, you like the wilderness. You should definitely go.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” He started to walk away.

  “Wait! Why don’t you come to the yearbook meeting with me?”

  “No.”

  “But you’re such a good photographer.”

  He didn’t say anything. He just sort of waved and walked away. It wasn’t even a wave, actually. He just sort of stuck out his hand as he walked away.

  “What’s his problem?” It was Brianna.

  “Oh, I want him to join the yearbook, and he won’t.”

  “Why?”

  “He just won’t.”

  “No. I mean why do you want him to join?”

  “He’s a really good photographer.”

  “He is? How do you even know?”

  “He’s been working on my podcasts with me.”

  “He has?”

  “Yeah. Have you seen my podcast lately?”

  “No. Sorry. I’ve been kind of busy.”

  She means Buzz. I don’t want to talk about him with her. I guess she does, though.

  “Buzz is so creative, don’t you think?”

  “I like his songs a lot.”

  “Yeah, of course. But other things too.”

  I didn’t say anything, but that never stops Brianna.

  “Like, for example, his spelling.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. “Yeah. His spelling is very creative.” I had to change the subject. “You’re not going on that class trip, are you?”

  “Of course I am. So are you.”

  “Brianna, did you look at that handout? Wilderness. Sleeping bags. No wifi. No phones or devices allowed.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  We walked into the Publication Room. Brianna is also an editor of the yearbook. The fashion editor. She said, “Hi, Mr. Hollander. Nice tie. The seventh-grade trip is going to be in the yearbook, right?”

  He thought for a second. “Yes. It’s a major event. You’ll want to remember it.”

  “Can Sean and I be in charge of that layout?”

  “No!” I actually whispered that to Brianna. I don’t know if Mr. Hollander heard.

  It’s been a little strange being around Mr. Hollander ever since I came up with Dan Welch, because they remind me of each other. They’re both super-nice guys, and they talk almost the same way. I mean in my head. I mean Dan Welch. He only chats and emails, but in my head I hear him talking, and he sounds like Mr. H.

  “Are you up for that, Sean?”

  “I guess.”

  “Good. I’m sure you two will do a stellar job.”

  After the meeting, I thought about Ethan. I should tell him I’m going to Wilderness Torture, or whatever it’s called. I would text him, but I don’t even know if he has a phone. I’ve never seen him with one. We just talk (or don’t talk) when we see each other at school, or at my house, or wherever we’re doing the podcast.

  I guess I’ll see him tomorrow morning when he comes over to work on the podcast. If he comes. I wonder if he’s mad at me. I actually think he is. Maybe I should go to his house right now to tell him. I’m pretty sure I remember where it is.

  But he might not want me to come there. It was pretty strange the last time. I wonder if it will be more strange or less strange now that I know about his brother.

  Yeah. I should go there. Ethan only had about five minutes of looking forward to the class trip before I wrecked it for him. I should tell him as soon as possible that we’re going after all.

  I stopped for a second to look up the name of Pine Tree Wilderness Retreat so I don’t call it Wilderness Torture. Then I walked over to Ethan’s.

  I recognize his house. There’s a car in the driveway. I’m a little nervous, but so what. I ring the doorbell. The lady who comes to the door looks a little older than my mom.

  “Hi. Are you Ethan’s mom?”

  “Sean.” That’s Ethan. He must have heard the doorbell. Now he’s standing behind his mom.

  “Hi. I’m Sean.”

  “Hello.”

  Ethan stepped around his mom and came outside. “Come on, let’s go in the back.”

  His mom was still standing there. I waved good-bye to her as we walked away. Sometimes I feel like The Visitor from the Friendly Planet.

  “Is it okay that I came over?”

  “Yeah. We can try a science experiment.”

  I had no idea what he meant. The backyard is kind of a mess. Like the last people who had the house stopped taking care of it a long time ago, and Ethan’s family never started. There’s some grass, but not like a lawn, and a few rusty chairs. Ethan pointed to an old seesaw.

  “I can’t get either of my parents to go on this thing with me.”

  I looked at him and looked at the seesaw and cracked up. Ethan weighs a lot more than I do. Double. No. More than double.

  “Ethan, if I sit on this end, and then you sit on that end, I can actually fly home.”

  “No. I think we can do it.”

  “What? Both break our heads?”

  “No. Balance. I think the wood is pretty strong.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why do you think so?”

  “It just looks strong. Wait.”

  He pulled some old cushions off the rusty chairs and put them under one end of the seesaw.

  “You sit there.”

  I started to take off my backpack.

  “No. Leave it on. We’ll need the weight of your books.”

  “Ethan . . .”

  “Come on, you’ll be fine.”

  I sat down on the seesaw. My end isn’t touching the ground anymore because it’s resting on the cushions. I’m sure I don’t look happy.

  “See? This is what I’m like. Why would you even want to go to Wilderness . . . whatever it’s called . . . with someone like me?”

  Ethan
stood on the other side of the seesaw, near the middle. He lifted his leg over it, then looked at me, then looked at the seesaw. He moved back a little bit, then sat down very, very gently, with his feet still on the ground.

  I started rising up in the air, very slowly. When I got higher than Ethan was, he brought me back down. Then he moved closer to the middle, and he started again. No one said anything.

  I rose up again, and this time Ethan very slowly took one foot off the ground . . . then the other. I didn’t go flying. We’re balanced.

  “Nice.” That was me.

  “See?”

  “I do see.”

  We stayed balanced. If either of us moved, even a little bit, we would start to rock, but we were always able to get it steady again.

  “I’m sorry I’m such a wimp about this class trip.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “It’s not just the wilderness part. I’m just not . . . I don’t know . . . like a sleepover kind of kid. I don’t like . . . doing all that stuff with strangers. Or even kids I know.”

  He still didn’t say anything.

  “Anyway, I’m going.” The seesaw wobbled.

  “You are?”

  “Yes. Brianna is making me. We’re covering it for the yearbook.”

  “Okay. Good.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “It’ll be fun.”

  “It will?”

  “Yeah. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

  “Good. Maybe both eyes.” I just remembered how scared I got in the woods right next to Brianna’s house. “Did your family used to go camping or something?”

  “No. Just me. Skip was always on teams, and my parents were like the world’s biggest sports parents. My dad was always one of the coaches, and my mom would go to all the games, and bake things and sell them with the other moms.”

  “So all of that stopped.”

  “Right. Anyway, when the three of them were going to tournaments out of town, I would stay with my Uncle Neil. My aunt and cousins don’t like camping, so it would only be him and me. Uncle Neil is like a mountain lion or something. He loves to be outside. He taught me how to do a lot of stuff.”