by Jeff Baron
“I lived at home with your grandfather after I knew. We went to your mother’s graduation together, right before the trial. That was the day she and your father got married. Another big surprise.”
“She told me.”
“So by the time he finally got locked up, I didn’t want to see him again, and he didn’t want me to see him there. We both knew it was over.”
Grandma got up and started putting things away.
“Before he got caught, did Grandpa act like a crook?”
“No! I’m telling you, he acted like every other guy who moves money around for a living. I wonder how many other crooks we don’t know about. Anyway, that’s why I moved to Florida. Nobody knows me here.”
“Yes they do.”
“Yeah, but they know me as me. Not as the crook’s wife. Okay, enough. Let’s go see a show.”
Chapter 26
Thorny’s couch is comfortable. When my parents come, we stay in a motel, so I never knew that. We had some breakfast (not continental), then I started thinking about checking Dan Welch’s email.
Thorny doesn’t really like anyone using her computer (I know how she feels), but I didn’t bring mine, and I want to see if we heard anything from Ashley or Hank Hollywood. I offered to borrow one of her neighbors’ trikes (that’s what they call those giant tricycles), and use one of the computers at the clubhouse. “Don’t be ridiculous. Use mine. Just don’t download anything or click on a link.”
Facebook was on the screen. Now I know how celebrities feel when they read what other people say about them.
Sean and I discussed the meaning of life, then we went to a concert at the clubhouse by “The Israeli Adele.” She *was* Israeli, but she’s no Adele.
“The meaning of life”? I don’t know what she means by that, but even though it was hard to hear those things about my grandfather, I’m glad she told me.
Thorny’s right about the Israeli Adele. The show was pretty bad. She kept asking everyone to clap along to the songs. This is never a good idea. A whole room full of people can never clap together and sound good, especially to a song they never heard before that’s in Hebrew.
I didn’t want to read any more posts about me, so I went to Dan Welch’s inbox. He has two new emails.
Okay. Now I’m nervous. I shouldn’t have looked. I’m going to be with Thorny for the rest of the day, starting in about ten minutes. What would be worse? Wondering what’s in those emails the whole day? Or looking at them now and thinking about them all day but not talking about them?
I think I have to open them now.
To: Dan Welch Management
From: Dan Welch
Dan, Dan, Management Man,
When oppertunity knocks, you gotta anser the door, buddy! I dont want it to slam in our face. I know you said youd handel it, but this Hollywood person came to Me, and if I dont get back to them soon, Im afraid Ill hurt my credabilitry. Yours and Seans too.
Talk to me, Dan Welch.
Dan Welch
Sorry, Collectibles. You should have forwarded the whole email from Ashley right away. You shouldn’t have made us wait.
But now that I think about it, Dan Welch and I are making Stefanie wait. I mean, while we see if Ashley or Hank Hollywood decides to bid on the movie. But also so she’ll want it even more. Is what Collectibles did any worse?
I actually think it is. Collectibles talks like he’s part of our team, but he isn’t really. I’m the writer. A Week with Your Grandparents is something I made up myself. Dan Welch is my manager, and he actually earns his 15% of everything I make ($0.00 so far). Collectibles is just the guy Ashley accidentally wrote to when she was looking for me.
The other email is from someone I never heard of. I like the email address. I wonder if it’s another Hollywood studio. That would make four.
To: Dan Welch
From: icanseethetopofyourhead
Hi, Sean. It’s Ethan. Hope you’re having Fun in Florida. Something weird happened. A girl came up to me in school and said, “You’re friends with Sean Rosen, right?” I never saw her before, but there are lots of people in school I never saw before. I didn’t answer. Then she said, “You work with him on his podcasts, right?” I still didn’t say anything, but I didn’t walk away either, so she probably took that as a yes. Then she said, “Is he good with computers?” I didn’t know what to say. You are, but so is everyone, more or less. I didn’t answer. Then she said, “What other things are you guys working on?” This girl is really pretty, Sean. Really pretty. Like so pretty she expected me to tell her everything she wants to know. I was afraid I might, so I started to leave. She followed me and said, “Has he ever told you any of his ideas?” I started walking faster, because you did tell me one of your ideas, and I was afraid she was going to use her powers to get me to tell her. It’s a good thing I take big steps. See you Monday.
Okay. I officially wish I didn’t open that email. Who was that girl? How did she know that Ethan is my friend? And that he works on my podcasts?
Ethan thinks she was asking about A Week with Your Grandparents, because that was the idea I told him. I actually think she was trying to find out what my big idea is. The only one who even knows I have a big idea is Hank Hollywood. How did he get a pretty girl in my school to help him?
Ethan doesn’t have my regular email address, so he got Dan Welch’s from my website. I once asked him to be Dan Welch, so he knows there isn’t a real one and that Dan Welch’s email goes to me.
“You ready, Sean?”
Not really, but since I can’t do anything about this until Monday, I might as well have fun with Thorny and do what I came here to do.
We went to Butterfly Kingdom, which is like a theme park with no rides. The theme is butterflies. They have a lot of them. And I guess they’re always there, or they wouldn’t be able to make you pay so much to get in.
Maybe they stick whatever butterflies like to eat on all the trees and bushes. Like if you had a place called Teenager Kingdom, you’d have free Cokes and Snickers and donuts everywhere, so there would always be teenagers when people came to see them.
Butterfly Kingdom is nice. Quiet. Like the opposite of a video game.
Then we had lunch, then we went to the movies. There was a movie playing at the clubhouse at Paradise Valley, but we decided to go out to a movie instead.
We found a movie we both wanted to see, and Thorny bought our tickets.
“One senior and one child.”
“Umm . . . actually, I’m not a child anymore. I’m thirteen.”
Thorny looked at me for a second, then said, “Sorry. One senior and one adult.”
We went in, found our theater, and sat down. We were early, and I didn’t want popcorn because I was still full from lunch.
“I know I look twelve and under.”
“I forgot for a minute. Maybe because you didn’t have a bar mitzvah.”
“I can pay for my ticket.”
“No.”
“Are you mad that I told them?”
“Not at all.”
“I want to be in the movie business someday.” (Like NOW.) “Movies are expensive to make. The people who make them have to get paid. Everyone should pay the right amount for their movie tickets.”
“You’re right. What kind of movies will you make?”
“I’m glad you asked that question. I’m writing one now, and I need your help.”
I told her the story of A Week with Your Grandparents.
“Grandma in my movie thinks it’s a bad idea for people to visit the past of someone they know.”
“Well, I wouldn’t do it.”
“Why not?”
“The past is past. If I can’t change it, why should I go through it again?”
“Maybe you missed something the first time. You know how when you talk about something you did with a friend, you don’t remember it the same way? You can use the time machine to find out what really happened.
“Or if you want to s
ee something you weren’t able to see. Like if I wanted to go to my parents’ wedding. I actually don’t want to do that, but I could.”
She thought about it some more.
“I don’t know, Sean. If I went back in time, I might see that I was only pretending not to know what was going on with your grandfather.”
“Is that what you think you did?”
“Sometimes I think that. Because I just can’t believe I didn’t know.”
“It sounds like Grandpa was really good at fooling people. Maybe if you went back, you’d see why you didn’t know. Maybe it was impossible to know.”
The lights went down, and the coming attractions started. Grandma grabbed my hand and squeezed it really hard. It hurt a little, but less than a hug.
It was a very good trip to Florida. My parents picked me up at the airport. It was like the last part of their honeymoon, before we all went home. They looked happy. It wasn’t like going to their wedding in the time machine, but after talking about them with Thorny and seeing them together at the airport, I could picture them as boyfriend and girlfriend. Not just my parents.
Chapter 27
Monday morning my first class is history. Morning is a good time to have history, because there’s less of a chance I’ll fall asleep. I got there just as the bell rang, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to Ethan.
I looked at him, and he looked at me, but unfortunately Mr. Knapp started talking. How can anyone make a world war—like a gigantic people-killing-people-from-other-countries-all-over-the-world war—this boring?
I don’t like passing notes in class. Well, I like it, but I don’t like getting caught, which is usually what happens. But the combination of Mr. Knapp’s voice and me dying to find out, made me write this note to Ethan.
Did you see that girl today?
I didn’t actually pass it to him. I just wrote it big in my notebook and held it up. He’s not looking at me. I cleared my throat really quietly. A few other kids turned and looked at me, but Ethan didn’t. I put the note away.
I was deciding whether or not to drop a pen on the floor when he finally looked at me. I quickly held up the note again. He looked at it, and then he gave me a look like, “What??”
I took the note down and looked at it. Ethan can’t read it. I’m not surprised. Not everyone is good at reading bad handwriting. I am. But I get a lot of practice reading my own.
This time I tried all capital letters.
DID U SEE THAT GIRL TODAY?
Now he can read it, and he shook his head no. He didn’t shake his head in an obvious way, but Ethan has a really big head, and he usually sits still (not like me), so when he shakes his head, people notice.
“Ethan, are you saying that England was not one of our allies in the war?”
“No.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“Nothing.”
“My mistake. Mr. Rosen, is something amusing?”
“Sean, you’re tan.”
It was Brianna. We were in the hall after history, and I was just about to ask Ethan about that girl.
“I forgot to wear sunscreen to Butterfly Kingdom.”
“You look good.”
“Thanks. You do too.” She actually had a little too much makeup on.
“Thanks. Le Bistro today.”
“Right.”
Le Bistro is the show that Mademoiselle Fou, the French teacher, puts on each year. I was the host last year, but I thought the show was really bad (Mademoiselle Fou can’t sing, but she sings constantly in the show). When I wouldn’t be in it this year, she started giving me bad grades. That was what made me switch to Spanish. Brianna plays a French fashion model in Le Bistro.
“Sean, I know you said you’re not coming, but you should.”
“I would, if I could see you without seeing the rest of it.”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as last year.”
“You wouldn’t even know. You’re always offstage changing.”
“That’s true. Buzz is coming.”
“Really?” Bad idea. Buzz doesn’t speak French, and he knows the difference between good music and bad music. “Brianna, Ethan, you know each other, right?”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Call the Guinness Book of World Records. Those were the two unfriendliest “Hi”s ever.
Brianna said, “Gotta run.”
Ethan was looking up and down the hallway. He can see everything from up there.
“I don’t see that girl.”
“I know how to find her. Meet me in the Publication Room, seventh period.”
This was Ethan’s first time in the Publication Room. Only the yearbook kids and the school newspaper kids use it. Luckily, no one else is here. I opened the computer file of yearbook pictures.
“What grade do you think she’s in?”
“Has to be eighth. She’s not like any of the girls in our classes.”
We looked at every eighth-grade girl. “She’s not here. Trust me, I remember her.”
Then we tried the seventh graders. He didn’t see her there either.
I opened the page of sixth graders. “Don’t bother. This girl can’t be in sixth grade.”
“Like you can’t be in seventh grade?”
We looked. She isn’t.
“This girl knows things about you, Sean.”
“But how did she know that you work on the podcasts?”
He thought for a few seconds. “If someone went to your website when your address was still there, they would know where you live. You talk about the library podcast on your website. There’s only one library in this town. They call the library. Everyone there knows you. ‘Oh, yeah, Sean Rosen. He was here with that big kid.’”
“There are other big kids.”
“Not from up here, there aren’t.”
“Come with me to the principal’s office.”
ME: Trish, do you know Ethan?
TRISH: Of course I do. I know everyone.
ME: And everything.
TRISH: True.
ME: Good. We came to the right place. We’re looking for the name of a new girl in school. Ethan, tell Trish what she looks like.
ETHAN: (embarrassed) Very pretty. Very pretty.
TRISH: I need a little more.
SEAN: She started here after yearbook pictures were taken.
TRISH: There’s only one student who’s that new. And I wouldn’t call him pretty.
ME: Could a girl who didn’t go here get into the school?
TRISH: (to Ethan) Did she look like a student?
ETHAN: Yeah. The world’s prettiest student.
TRISH: If she walked in with a big group of students, Ms. Crincoli might not notice her. So Ethan . . . sounds like someone has a crush on someone.
The door opened, and I couldn’t believe who walked in. Brianna’s dad. Standing a foot away from me. He doesn’t see me. I’m sort of hiding behind Ethan.
“Who do I talk to around here?”
Trish said, “Possibly me. What can I help you with?”
“This is a two-thousand-dollar suit. The lady at the front door is telling me I have to wear this”—it’s the blue visitor’s sticker—“and it has go right on my suit. Are you prepared to pay my dry cleaning bill?”
“I’m not, actually, but why don’t you hand it to me?”
“My suit?”
“No. The sticker.”
He looked at her for a minute, then he handed it to her. She opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a clear plastic holder. She slid the sticker inside and handed it back to Brianna’s dad.
“If you’ll just put that in your jacket pocket . . .”
He put it into one of the side pockets on the bottom.
“No. The chest pocket. Where people can see it.”
He gave her another look and then moved it.
“Thanks. Makes everyone feel a little safer. I’m sure you understand.”
I finally said som
ething. “Hi, Mr. _________.”
“Oh. It’s you.”
“Sean.”
“Right. This is Ethan.” Neither of them said anything, so I kept going. “Are you here for Le Bistro?”
“Whatever it’s called.”
“Le Bistro. You want me to show you where the auditorium is?”
“I can find it.”
He turned around and left.
ME: Is two thousand dollars a lot for a suit?
TRISH: I’ll tell you this much. It looks a heck of a lot better than my husband’s ninety-nine dollar suit.
Chapter 28
Ethan went to Le Bistro. I went back to the Publication Room. I wasn’t completely sure I put everything away. I did. I was also sort of hoping Mr. Hollander would be here. I feel a little bad not telling Trish the truth about that girl or why people might be asking about me.
Trish is my friend, and she does a lot of nice things for me. Why don’t I just tell her about my career? I’m not ashamed of it. I’m not breaking any school rules. I thought if I saw Mr. Hollander right after not telling Trish, maybe I would just tell him the truth. He’s another person I think of as a friend. But if I’m going to tell these people at school, why don’t I just tell my parents, who are like my best friends?
At the beginning, when I was trying to get people in Hollywood to listen to my ideas, I didn’t tell anyone I knew because I thought they would tell me I was crazy to even try. But now people in Hollywood are writing to me, chatting with me, and trying to buy my movie. I think they’re even sending people to my town to find out about me. Maybe it would be good to have some friendly grown-ups (besides Dan Welch) help me figure it out.
So if it’s Hank Hollywood who got someone to call the school and then got a pretty girl to come to the school, what is he trying to do? If he wants to know about my idea, why doesn’t he just ask me what it is? He knows how to reach me. Why is he sneaking around?
Oh my God. I just figured it out. He’s trying to steal my idea. He figured out that it’s worth a lot of money, and instead of asking me what it is and having to share the money with me, he’s going to find out what the idea is and use it and not pay me. He could probably get away with that.