“I’m just laughing at myself,” he said, and took her hand, “because I’m a clown.”
Jewels smiled at that. It was obvious she disagreed with Beau. He was so not a clown! He was hot. Hot, hawt, hawt!
Though he didn’t know it yet. But he would. She had plans.
While this was happening, Beau’s mom, Gina, also had plans—to visit her friend, Matt. She was going to fly out to the West Coast for a weekend, just to “say hi.” And that was a major problem for Beau when he found out. Nobody was going to be flying anywhere saying hi if he had anything to do with it!
Reflecting, he’d decided he was just going to be calm, rational, and have a dialogue with her. He would talk her out of it. This was a deliberate choice she was making, and she really needed to know there would be repercussions to her actions.
But he wasn’t going to attack her in a hostile way. He was calmly going to let her know he still loved her, same as always. It was just that she couldn’t just run around doing whatever struck her fancy. He was a lot more mature than the little brat he used to be, and they could talk it out like adults now, without him yelling, and he would explain to her what she was doing wrong, and then she would see reason.
Which is exactly how it didn’t go. She flatly refused to see reason.
It started out pretty well. She’d made dinner, and they were eating it in the living room, like they did a lot these days. It was weird; at his dad’s, they still ate at the table, and he had to wash up immediately, whereas at his mom’s, they ate in front of the TV, especially when he wanted to watch something. The only thing was that he wasn’t allowed to play video games while they were eating. And as far as washing up, she said she didn’t care when as long as he took care of it before she had to cook again.
Even then a lot of the time he’d wake up late at night, and she would have already washed all the dishes and would be banging away on the computer, muttering and laughing under her breath. “Talking” to someone on Facebook or elsewhere, awake for hours.
So anyway, that particular night they watched TED Talks and other things, and after dinner they went out to sit under the very new moon and think aloud about what they had just heard. It was a good night. Nothing special, just chill, just the two of them.
The next morning he was awakened at dawn, as usual, by her humming and coffee making and computer racket, all her early morning monkeyshines, which made him cranky, even though he did manage to get back to sleep for several hours. When he woke up again, he was still peevish. She certainly had a lot of other interests these days, for a mom.
“Who are you babbling to, all night and day?” he griped/ asked when he finally staggered in. He stood with his arms folded, crabby and squinty-eyed, as usual when he first got up. Beau = not morning person. Not even late morning.
Gina looked at him skeptically. She knew he knew perfectly well who she was talking to.
“Have some coffee,” she said instead.
Which he did. He poured some and trailed, mug steaming, into the living room. He stood looking out at the lux summer foliage. Gina went back to typing. And smiling.
“Where does he even live?” Beau finally couldn’t resist asking, but as snarkily as possible.
“Seattle,” Gina replied, her eyes on the screen.
Beau stood and thought crappy thoughts about Seattle. Bunch of crazy nut-jobs out there.
“Wait—isn’t it like earlier there? Why is he even up?”
“It is—two hours earlier. He’s up still because he’s a writer. They keep weird hours. He hasn’t been to bed yet.”
“Oh, awesome! A writer! That’s just great, Mom!” Beau’s eyes were gleaming with a maniacal snarkthusiasm. “What’s he written that I’ve never read or heard of?”
Gina looked over and cackled. “You are so droll,” she told him fondly, and meant it. Her amused expression made Beau feel better. But still pissed.
“Seriously, Mom! Does he even make any money, or is he just one of those ‘writer’ writers?” Beau pinched his voice up nasally and flapped his hands around: “Oh, hi; you’ve never seen my name on ANYTHING, but I’m a huge-ass big shot!’ ”
Gina snorted again, and shook her head.
“He writes TV shows. So he stays up and sleeps in, or vice versa, or whatever. And he writes for the Seattle area, most of which is not national, though it is seen in British Columbia, so weirdly, it’s international, but only in the North-west. So yes, I imagine you probably haven’t heard of him.”
“Well, what do you guys even talk about?”
“Oh, you know, the olden days, high school. We were just remembering how much fun it was when we did some community theater, before you were born, a long time ago. I was Maggie the Cat. . . . He wasn’t Brick.” She smiled again, in long-lost dream time, and then shrugged. “But he was one of the cast members. We’ve always hit it off.”
“Oh! Gross! I bet you did, Mom! Thanks for sharing!”
“But then he moved away. Then years later, Facebook.” His mom smiled. She looked distant, and pretty. “You know, you just start yapping on Facebook and get reacquainted, and remember why you were friends, once upon a time . . .” Gina giggled. “I like to Facebook him. It’s fun. He’s pretty funny too.”
Which made Beau really pissed off, for some reason. He, Beau, was the funny guy.
So it didn’t go well, the talking her out of her ridiculousness. He planned to try again.
One side effect that he noticed from all the home-life brouhaha was that Barb and David, Jewels’s parents, were super kind to him, like he’d escaped from North Korea or something. They spoke to him gently, like they would a rescue dog, and invited him along to family frolics.
One of their frolics involved attending church on Sunday. This was a suggestion that Beau accepted with delight. Going to church would not affect his dad at all, but his mom would be very puzzled and really pissed. So it was perfect.
And when Gina heard, she was indeed flummoxed. According to plan. Bwwwwahahahaha. . .
“Why?” She looked at him like he was a mental patient.
“Because, Mom; maybe they have some secrets or something on how to be chill . . . like how to just relax and take it easy and stop stressing all the time. I don’t know!”
His mom stared at him, like sarcastic with her eyes, like, “nice try.” “It’s also a really good way to show me how pissed you are at me, right? The one thing that I’ve always said is that you don’t need religion to be good! The ONE thing I never wanted you to have to deal with! All that . . . junk—you are now going to embrace?! Really?!” Her voice grew sharp with exasperation. “But you know what, Beau? On second thought, you go ahead! Go head on, Mr. God-Man! You go try to make sense of it! And good luck!”
She was totally wigged out by his new plan. It was perfect.
Jewels and Pete were pretty glad about it too. “Now you can hang out on Sundays, and we could also attend Bible study on Wednesday nights, if you want.”
“Really? People go to church twice in a week?” Beau looked dubious. This could be a lot of commitment.
“Yeah, some of them all day on Sunday, and Wednesday night for Bible study. We don’t, but if you want to, we could start.” Pete nodded.
“You would too?” Beau looked at Jewels. She didn’t like going since she didn’t believe in anything anymore. “Even though you don’t want to go to Christian school anymore?
“Sure.” She shrugged. “If you do. It’d be fine. It would be fun, if all three of us were there.” Her attitude was way more indifferent than he thought it would be.
“Why did you quit going to One Truth?” Beau had always been curious.
“No big. I just needed a vacay from the cray-cray. You’ll see. Also, too bogus to girls!”
So on Sundays Beau accompanied them to church, and on Wednesday nights the three began Bible study. It was fun hanging with Pete and Jewels. He actually did want to read the Bible and see if there might be anything that would help his dilem
ma.
But after the fourth week of Bible classes, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Are you guys reading this stuff?” he asked, incredulously, on their walk back to Pete’s and Jewels’s house.
“Yeah.” They looked at each other and shrugged. Theirs were the mild and bored expressions of barnyard animals. Placidly uninterested.
“Like all of it?”
“Yeah. Whatever Rev assigns. Usually,” said Pete. He liked the “hip” young minister.
“Do you read past?”
“No.” They snorted, simultaneously. “Why?”
“Never? You never read past . . . ever?”
“Because why, Beau? What are you getting at?” Pete asked, as they took a shortcut and wandered into the playground. He went over to the swings and sat in one. Beau stood in front of him. Jewels slipped into a swing. She started to twist the chains into a spiral and twirl, in release. Her hair flew around her.
“Because! It’s nuts! It’s so crazy I forgot to laugh! People get told to go kill everyone all the time! And have slaves! The Bible is totally crawling with slaves! And everyone is fine with it—Jesus and the apostles and everybody! Totally fine! Like—what the hell?”
Pete and Jewels looked at each other.
“Yeah, see . . .” Pete shook his head. “It’s easier to just read the assignment.”
“Yeah, Beau,” Jewels added, dizzy from a spin, “never read ahead. You’ll get to the wrong part.”
“Why are we doing it, then?”
“Doing what?”
“Studying a book that’s wrong?”
They glanced at each other, and shrugged. Nobody knew that answer. Then Pete remembered. “It’s a test!” he almost yelled, like in a game show. He beamed in feigned relief. Whew, that was close!
“A test?” Beau was dubious.
“Yes! It’s God’s way of testing our belief. We know it’s the true word of the Lord and so nobody can mess with our faith. The Bible’s got all kind of tests in it.”
“So what you’re telling me is that God is testing us?”
“Yeah! Like fossils. And dinosaurs. They’re a test too. That’s a total test.”
When Beau looked over to see how Jewels was responding to this communiqué, he saw her pinching the bridge on her nose in an unintended face-palm. When he noticed, she looked up.
“I told you it’s crazy. You have to persevere, your whole life!”
Beau’s expression was outraged. “But, you guys, there is tons more! Like they say you can just rape and murder people! Like you can kill little kids! Like a lot!”
“It does?” Pete was perturbed. “Where?”
“All over the place! Also, you can get killed for shaving!”
“What?!”
“Totally! I’m not making it up! Also, if you cook a goat wrong, it’s like bad! Like really bad . . .”
He could see they were both baffled by that. He offered his explanation.
“Okay, here’s my theory: I do think that maybe the other parts are a test! Like, the really crazy stuff in there? It’s a true/false quiz. You kept thinking it was all true and we just didn’t get it, like it was an essay test, but all the time it wasn’t, it was true/false! Some of that stuff is made up, trying to fake you out!”
They all stared at each other for a second—then Pete grinned at Beau like he just figured out that Beau was punking them. “Oh. I see! O-kay . . . Well, that’s awesome, Beau! Thanks for sharing; we didn’t know that! Did you also get to the part about how Heaven is full of zombies? No? Yup! Fast and slow! Crawling with ’em! Like—‘No Vacancy’!” Pete chortled. He totally amused himself. He was hilarious!
Beau scowled at Pete, suspiciously. Pretty sure that was a nope, but still. “Nuh-uh,” he said, dubiously, though he had heard that guys did come back from the dead.
Pete and Jewels cracked up. It was too hard to resist sometimes.
“No,” Pete said, reaching over and rumpling his hair, roughly affectionate. “No zombies are allowed in Heaven! I was just messing with you.”
“Dude! That’s good”—Beau smoothed his hair—“but that other stuff is in there.”
When Beau’s mom decided to take her trip, Beau was given the choice of coming along or staying with his dad. He didn’t think much of either option.
Beau chose to stay alone at the house till she got back. Staying alone was not an option, it turned out, so he then opted to stay at his dad’s house. But not all the time. He’d go over when it got dark and just stay there at night. It turned into a really fun week. His dad was very chill and treated him like a roommate. He could stay out till he felt like coming in. He ate with Pete and Jewels’s family most nights. Their mom, Barb, was a good cook.
Barb really wanted Beau to feel at home and welcome at their house, and so she treated him wonderfully, very kind, but a little nervous, like he was from an orphanage and she thought he might have ringworm. Beau did an impression of her as he said this to Jewels. He pitched up his eyebrows so they met like a wedge on his forehead and leaned forward, cocking his head, and smiling apprehensively. “Can I bring you something, Beau? Maybe a fruit wrap?”
Jewels doubled over. “Omg! That is exactly her expression—like, ‘oh, poor, dear, sweet, clueless, hell-bound Beau’ . . . so, so damned!” She cackled, and then grinned at him. “She’s pretty sure you are a bad influence.”
And so all summer they hung out, all the teens getting taller and tanner and ready for school. In fact, Beau actually needed to get pants two inches longer when he and Gina went shopping for school clothes. The jeans were stiff and unbending that fall, or rather, late August, as they returned to school.
Beau got out of the car on that first day back at school. His mom got out too, and stretched. Beau had driven, so she walked around to the driver’s side, though she knew better than to make any move to hug him. Beau opened the back driver’s side door and got his backpack. He turned back.
“Okay, Mom, thanks. I got this.”
“Okay, sweetheart, then I’ll scoot. Wow, look how grownup everyone looks! I can’t believe you are a sophomore already! Okay, I’m outta here. Smooch!” That was the random way she’d invented to kiss him good-bye, by just saying it, reducing attendant mortification. Beau glanced around.
“ ’K, Mom, don’t worry about picking me up. I’ll get a ride with Pete and Jewels. Have a good day . . . smooch.” The last word was almost inaudible. She got in the car, and they waved, just as Beau heard his name called. It was Pete, signaling, standing beside Bonnie on leg braces with a walker. He was carrying a bunch of stuff for her. Beau ran over.
“How’s it going, guys! Happy first day of school!” Everybody hugged, the guys whacking each other on the back, and Beau embracing Bonnie very gently.
She still had to put a lot of reliance on the walker, but she was elongated! Her legs were still set in splints and her face set in pain, but she was there . . . and she was almost the prized size of a “normal” girl! Beau wanted to know if she was still twisting the screws to grow her legs, but he wasn’t sure if he should ask about it or if she even wanted to think about it. Plus, the notion still horrified him.
Babbling as fast as they could to catch up, they headed to first period before the bell rang so Bonnie could have plenty of time without rushing. The grass was damp from dew, and Pete was very solicitous. He hovered hypervigilantly. Bonnie slowly “walked” a few steps, Beau and Pete on either side, and then Pete opened her little folded wheelchair he’d been carrying on a strap over his shoulder. Beau hadn’t really noticed it because of all the other crap that he was carrying. Very carefully, Pete guided her while she plopped gently backward, her legs scaffolded straight. He put her foot rails down and lifted her braced feet so she could rest while her new bones set. Then he expertly folded her aluminum walker till it was about the size of a briefcase, pulled its strap, and slung it over his shoulder with the other stuff.
He nodded at Bonnie, and they smiled at each other proudly.
Bonnie could barely stand, but she had wanted to make it for the first day of school. And she had.
Beau watched, impressed. He liked the way Pete looked out for Bonnie. That was the kind of helping he could relate to. He heard his mom call nurses and doctors “the caring profession.” He liked that. He might not want to save the world, but he could care. One person at a time. Not so much fuss and drama.
After everything was converted and exchanged and in situ, Pete looked up and grinned at Beau.
“Ta-da!” he proclaimed.
Beau couldn’t believe how cleverly everything reduced into itself for travel.
“You guys look like a Transformers movie.”
“So then it worked out for Bonnie, the operation?” I ask with interest. So weird!
“Yeah, I guess, pretty much. I moved here before I saw them take the braces off her legs. She was getting better though. Healing and stuff. She didn’t use a walker after a little while. I dunno.” He frowns.
“Do you think it was worth it?” I ask him, as he frowns.
“Uh . . . It was the way she wanted it, so yeah.”
“How’s she doing now? Are she and Pete still together? He seems awesome.”
Beau sighs. Heavily.
“I don’t know.”
“Why? How can you not know? What does it say on her page?”
“We aren’t friends.”
“What about Pete’s page?”
“We aren’t friends.”
“What?!”
Beau doesn’t answer right away. He is quiet and looks out the window, then turns and glances at me. “Nope.”
“Why?” I asked. “I’m totally listening!”
“It’s all just crap from here. Let’s just say things got weird and then got worse.”
“Beau . . . I kind of need to know the whole story.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll go fast and give you just the short version, okay?” He looks over at me, grimly. “So strap yourself in for a horrible ride.”
Beau had been walking the halls all sophomore year holding hands with Jewels. And because she was younger than him by over a year, they only held hands. He managed to get out of it no matter how many times Jewels put the move on him. He’d tried to go for it once, and it was so bad he refused any more attempts.
The Hurt Patrol Page 9