The Swift Boys & Me

by Kody Keplinger

  “Nothing,” I said. “I just, um … I need to go to the library, and I wondered if you wanted to come with me?”

  He nodded. “I’d love to, but I’m not allowed to ride my bike outside of the subdivision.”

  “Oh, uh … can your mama take us?” I asked. “Or would that be too rude to ask? I know she’s exercising right now —”

  “She loves the library,” Teddy said. “As soon as she’s off the treadmill, I’m sure she’ll drive us.”

  “Oh, good.”

  There was a long pause where I just stood in the middle of Teddy Ryan’s bedroom, staring at all his family pictures and posters and trophies. Not a single one of them was related to sports. They were from things like spelling bees and math competitions. I was a grade ahead of Teddy, so I hadn’t realized just how smart he was until then.

  “I don’t like treadmills.”

  I turned to look at him, surprised. What on earth was he talking about?

  He adjusted his glasses. “I don’t like treadmills,” he said again. “They kind of freak me out. I’m always afraid they’ll go too fast and I’ll fly off the back.”

  I laughed. “That sounds like something that’d happen in a cartoon.”

  “I’m not allowed to watch cartoons,” he said. “My parents say they rot your brain.”

  I didn’t know if I should be offended by that or not, since I watched cartoons. But I decided to let it go. Anyway, if I was too old for the circus, I was probably too old for cartoons, too.

  “You can sit down,” Teddy said, patting the foot of his bed. “You don’t gotta stand up…. And I can get you a book or something to read if you want.”

  “That’s okay,” I told him.

  “What do you gotta go to the library for?” he asked.

  “I need to use the computers,” I said. “And Felicia told me I oughta read The Hobbit, so I thought I’d check it out today.”

  “I haven’t read that one yet,” Teddy said. “Tell me how you like it, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “You’ve read the Harry Potter books, though, right?” he asked.

  “Of course!” I said. “They’re some of my favorites.”

  So we talked about books for a while; Teddy even showed me a few signed novels his aunt in Atlanta had sent him. He was looking for a book on his shelf when we heard the shower start in the next room.

  “That means she’s done running,” Teddy said.

  Half an hour later, Mrs. Ryan was driving us up to the local library. She picked up a magazine and went to sit in a comfy armchair while me and Teddy headed to the computers.

  As soon as the Internet had loaded, I started searching for Sarah Clarke. There were lots of Sarah Clarkes, but a few more minutes on Google and I’d tracked down the right woman’s address in Bunker. I scribbled it down on a piece of scrap paper and shoved it in my pocket. I was surprised how easy it was to find her address online. A little bit scared, too. Mama was always warning me about the Internet and not putting personal information on here. But I bet if I Googled our names, our address would show up, too.

  I still hadn’t figured out how I’d get to Bunker to see Mr. Swift, though. Not without visiting Grandma Lucy, which I really didn’t want to do. I’d never told her about the broken drill, and I didn’t want to be there when she found out. I felt guilty for not telling her, but I was too scared. So I’d need to think of another way to get over to Bunker. And soon.

  I leaned over and took a peek at Teddy’s screen. He was playing some sort of game where he had to use a gun to pop balloons. When he caught me watching, he shut it down real quick and looked embarrassed.

  “Don’t tell my mom,” he whispered.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “I’m not allowed to play video games.”

  Poor Teddy Ryan. He couldn’t eat cake or cookies, he didn’t have a TV, and he wasn’t allowed to play video games. Thank goodness he had a trampoline, or else I didn’t know what he’d do.

  Even though I had what I’d come for, I wasn’t quite ready to go home or stop hanging out with Teddy yet, so we sat down at a table and started putting together one of the thousand-piece puzzles they kept in the back of the library. It was fun, actually, just talking with Teddy. The puzzle was of a sea lion, and Teddy had just read a book about sea lions, so he told me all about them.

  “I’d love to see one in real life,” I said.

  “You’ve never seen one at the zoo?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Never been to the zoo. Except the petting zoo on the Kingsleys’ farm, but I’m not sure that counts since it’s just a couple of goats and sheep. I’ve been to the circus, though.”

  “We go to the zoo almost every year,” Teddy said. “We can take you this year, if you want. I’m sure my parents won’t mind.”

  “I’d love that,” I said, feeling happy at the thought of me and Teddy hanging out even after I moved. “Are there penguins there? I’ve always wanted to see a penguin up close.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “There are penguins. And tigers. The tigers are my favorite.”

  Mrs. Ryan came over when we were about halfway through the puzzle to tell us it was time to get going. The library closed at five, and Mr. Ryan would be home soon.

  She dropped me off in front of the duplex and told me to come visit anytime I wanted. I waved good-bye to her and Teddy before heading inside. Sarah Clarke’s address felt like a ten-pound weight in my back pocket. I knew where she lived. Where Mr. Swift lived. I just had to figure out what I’d do next.

  Mama let me invite Felicia down to Nashville with us and promised to take us to the Rainforest Cafe after we went to the bridal shop. While Mama tried on wedding dresses, Felicia and I hunted through the racks, picking out our favorite gowns.

  “I love this one,” Felicia said, holding up a long purple dress with puffy sleeves. “I’d look like a princess in this, don’t you think?”

  I nodded. “It’s pretty,” I said, even though I kinda didn’t like it.

  “Can you draw a picture of me in a dress like this?” she asked.

  “I don’t know … maybe.” I felt myself blush and looked away. I liked to draw, and I even thought some of the things I did were pretty good, but when other people mentioned my drawings or said nice things about them, I got embarrassed.

  “You’re so good at drawing, I bet you could. You should draw something for Teddy, too. I know he’d like that.” She put the dress back on the rack. “He told me y’all went to the library.”

  “Yep. I checked out The Hobbit, just like you told me to.”

  “Good. You’ll love it.”

  “Maybe when I finish it, we can have a slumber party and talk about it or something?” I suggested.

  “That’d be fun!” she said, clapping her hands together. But then, she suddenly got real serious. “Nola, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” But the way she said it made my stomach flip-flop.

  Felicia took a deep breath. “Are you only hanging out with me and Teddy because Canaan and his brothers aren’t around much now?” She tugged on one of her braids. “I mean, I know they were your best friends, but I’ve always been your friend, too. And, I don’t know, I always felt like you didn’t like me as much as them. I felt left out. And now all of a sudden we’re spending a lot more time together — and you’re spending time with Teddy, too — and I can’t help feeling like it’s because you ain’t got no one else to be friends with.”

  Even though Felicia was being real sweet and quiet and nice, I felt like I was in trouble. Like I’d done something wrong. My belly wobbled and my eyes started to sting with tears. I took a few deep breaths and tried to pull myself together.

  The truth was, when I first started spending more time with Felicia, it had been because I needed a friend. But over the summer, I’d gotten a lot closer to her. And to Teddy. And I felt bad that she’d been left out for all these years.

  I thought about how many times we’d forg
otten to invite Felicia over to play, or how many times Canaan had chased off Teddy when he tried to talk to me. We never meant no harm, but maybe being so close to the boys for so long had kept me from making other friends.

  Since Felicia was brave enough to be honest with me, I decided to be honest with her, too. I hoped she’d take it okay.

  “At first, maybe it was because the boys weren’t around,” I admitted. “But not anymore. I really have fun with you and with Teddy. And even if the boys were back to normal, I’d still want to spend time with you and Teddy like I have been. I mean it. Y’all are my friends.”

  She smiled. “Okay. Good. I just wanted to make sure.” Her smile turned to a grin. “And I know Teddy would be happy to hear it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said with a giggle. “It’s a secret. I can’t tell.”

  “Can’t tell what?”

  “Nothing,” she repeated. Then she picked up another dress — a strapless lavender one. “This one would look real pretty on you, Nola. When you draw me in the purple dress, draw you next to me in this one, okay?”

  * * *

  Mama found her perfect wedding dress that day, and she ordered my junior bridesmaid dress online. So we spent the rest of the week mailing invitations and picking out the flower arrangements. The wedding was coming up fast, and Mama was pretty much always in a state of panic these days. And when Mama was stressed, so was I.

  But what was stressing me out most was Grandma Lucy. She’d called and asked Mama if I’d mind helping her clean up the house that weekend. I wanted to say no. The idea of seeing Grandma Lucy again, of maybe getting in trouble for breaking Grandpa’s drill, terrified me. But I was so, so close to finding Mr. Swift. I had his address and everything. And even though I’d been trying to think of another way to get to Bunker, visiting Grandma Lucy seemed like my only choice. So I had to suck it up and hope, hope, hope she hadn’t and wouldn’t notice the drill.

  Mama and Richard dropped me and my bike off on their way to look at tuxes. Grandma Lucy opened the front door for me and waved me inside without a word.

  “I’ll get started right away,” I told her, hoping that if I was working, I wouldn’t have to talk to her much. I was sure that the more time we spent together, the more obvious it would be that I’d done something wrong. “Do you already have the cleaning supplies? Like glass cleaner for the windows? If not, I can go get them from the store. I brought my bike again.”

  “Don’t you be worrying about that. You’re not cleaning nothing.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Not today,” Grandma Lucy said as she led the way toward the kitchen. I followed along behind her, feeling awfully confused and even more nervous. She picked up the keys she’d left on the counter — the keys to the garage.

  “So, what’re we doing, then?” I asked, trying not to panic. What if she’d seen the drill? What if she’d just asked me to come over here so she could yell at me?

  “Making your mama a wedding gift. Come on.” She headed back down the hallway and through the front door. I dragged my feet, wishing I could just disappear. Once we were outside, she opened the small side door of the garage and hollered for me to follow her inside. “Which of these boxes did you put all the pictures in?”

  “Um …” I looked at the boxes, trying to remember. But I was too focused on trying to hide the workbench, standing with my back to it so she couldn’t see the broken drill, still in the spot I’d left it.

  “You don’t know?” Grandma Lucy asked. “What was the point of me paying you to clean up out here if you don’t even know where you put things?”

  My stomach knotted up, and I started to feel like I might start crying. I swallowed, hard, then pointed to one of the large boxes. “Th-that one, I think.”

  “All right. Then help me carry it inside.”

  That’s when I started to panic for a different reason. I’d been counting on a trip to the store for supplies — that was my chance to go to Sarah Clarke’s house and talk to Mr. Swift about going back home. If Grandma Lucy was going to keep me busy inside, with her, I’d never be able to sneak away.

  We sat down on the couch and opened the box together. Grandma Lucy pulled out the dusty photo album, and for a minute she just held it in her lap, staring down at the plain black cover. I thought she might cry — she had that sort of sparkle in her eye — but she just cleared her throat, shoved the album at me, and said, “Stay right there. I’ll be back.”

  She headed down the hallway, and I heard a few cabinets and drawers slam in the kitchen. When she came back, she was carrying a piece of square cardboard, a picture frame, and some glue. She sat down next to me and dumped all the stuff on the coffee table.

  “What’re we doing?” I asked again, fidgeting in my seat.

  “It oughta be obvious, Fionnula,” she said. “Haven’t you seen a collage before?”

  I had, of course. We’d made lots of them in elementary school. I’d just never expected to be making one with her.

  She began pulling out pictures — one by one — picking out the ones she wanted to put in Mama’s wedding collage. They were all pictures from a long time ago — ones of Mama as a kid, ones of her with my grandpa. Each time Grandma Lucy pulled out one of those, she gave a sad smile.

  “You sure you wanna use those?” I asked, feeling even guiltier about Grandpa’s drill, knowing how much all his stuff meant to her. “You don’t got any copies. Don’t you wanna keep them for yourself?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve been able to look at these for many years.” For once, her voice was soft. Not harsh or cranky. “Your mother should have them now.”

  We spent about an hour spreading glue on the back of photos and arranging them on the piece of cardboard. When we were done, Grandma Lucy fitted it into the frame she’d brought out.

  “Fionnula,” she said, not looking at me. “You know, you can come see me anytime. You don’t have to be working. You can just visit.”

  I hadn’t expected her to say anything like that. But I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised. Last time I’d seen her, she’d apologized for all the yelling she did. I guess I’d always thought Grandma Lucy didn’t really like me too much, but maybe I was wrong.

  “It’s been real nice seeing you more often lately,” Grandma Lucy said. “I just wish we’d gotten to visit more, I suppose.” She finished with the picture frame and held up the collage for me to see. “How’s it look?”

  “Mama will love it,” I said.

  “Good,” she said. “It can be from both of us.”

  She made sandwiches for us and we sat on the couch, eating and watching black-and-white movies on some cable channel Mama and I didn’t have. I was getting antsy — I didn’t know how long it would be before Mama and Richard came to pick me up, and I still needed to go find Mr. Swift.

  I got my chance about half an hour later when Grandma Lucy nodded off on the sofa. Once she started snoring like a freight train, I hopped up and headed out the front door. Sarah Clarke’s address was in my back pocket, and I was pretty sure I knew how to get there, too. But I had to be fast.

  I rode toward town and made a right at the stoplight just past the Country Kitchen. Sarah Clarke lived in an apartment complex Mama and I had passed a few times on our way to Grandma Lucy’s house. It took me a minute to find the right door, she lived in 1D, but eventually I found it.

  I was stashing my bike in the bushes when I heard the apartment door open. I ducked down, not sure why, but feeling like I oughta be hiding. Sarah walked out, dressed in her pink waitress uniform, and Mr. Swift was behind her. It was the first time I’d gotten a good look at him since the night he’d left.

  And he looked all right — like he’d gotten a haircut, maybe, and his clothes looked ironed and neat. He looked a lot better than his boys had looked lately, and something about seeing that made my fists clench into balls.

  “Have a nice day,” he said, giving her a kiss. Right on
the mouth, too. “I love you.”

  I knew she’d said they might get married, but something about seeing him kiss her, hearing him say he loved her, made it so much more real. So much worse.

  Sarah waved good-bye and went out to the parking lot. Mr. Swift watched her walk away, then he turned and went back inside. Now was my chance. Now was the time to go knock on the door and do what I’d come to do.

  But I couldn’t.

  I’d made it all this way, done all this work to track him down, and I couldn’t move. I was too scared to knock on his door. Too scared to confront him. And, all of a sudden, it didn’t really feel like it was my business, no matter how much I wanted to help the boys.

  Feeling sick and ashamed and cowardly, I pulled my bike back out of the bushes. I pedaled hard all the way back to Grandma Lucy’s house. I was so upset — mad at Mr. Swift and at myself — that I didn’t even think about how I’d left my grandmother asleep on the couch without letting her know where I was going. But as soon as I dropped my bike on the front porch, the front door flew open and she came storming out.

  By the look on her face, I knew she was mad. At first I thought maybe she’d seen the drill, found out I’d been keeping it from her. That was something else I was being a chicken about. But then she started yelling.

  “Fionnula Sutton, I could tan your hide right now!” Her voice was loud and screechy. “I was worried sick — I almost called the police when I woke up and saw you weren’t there. Where were you? What in the Lord’s name were you thinking?”

  I didn’t say anything. It was all too much just then. I buried my face in my hands and just started bawling. Because I felt guilty about the drill. Because I was in trouble for going into town. Because I’d chickened out at the last minute. Because Mr. Swift was in love with Sarah Clarke and I didn’t know if he’d ever go back home. Because the wedding was coming up and I’d be moving and everything was a mess.

  “Fionnula?” Grandma Lucy asked. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  I was crying too hard to answer. So I just shook my head. After a second, Grandma Lucy walked toward me and put her arms around me.