by Kelly Jones
“Yes, yes!” Oma said. “And Hans Dieter—”
Mr. Z. couldn’t hear her, though, so he kept talking. “But I did not help her make that first cake. Sometimes we fall in love with the magic, before we learn more.”
Oma got quiet. Perhaps.
“Would you let me help you, this time?” Mr. Z. asked. “I would like one more turn with a poppy-seed grinder.”
Oma looked at me, and I held my breath.
Just this once, she wrote at last.
I let my breath out, and grinned at Eli.
* * *
I’d found another frame, so that night it was Dad’s turn to pick a photo. He picked one from when Asad was born, when we went to visit Mom in the hospital. Mom’s still in her hospital outfit, looking tired, but she’s smiling, and Dad is grinning and has his arm around her. I don’t look too sure about things, and Asad is screaming his head off.
Will you tell us about this photo? Oma wrote.
Dad nodded, clearing his throat. “I’ve had a lot of happy days in my life, but this was one of the happiest,” he said. Then he stopped, and had to wipe his eyes.
“That’s because you didn’t have to do the hard part,” Mom said, laughing. She hugged him while he got himself back together.
Then he cleared his throat again. “Of all the things I’ve done here on this earth, I’m proudest of you boys, and of being your dad.”
Trust Asad to ruin Dad’s moment. “We’re loud! We’re proud! We’re gonna take off and fly in a cloud!” he yelled, running around the family room. “And…TACKLE!” He grabbed Oma around the waist and tried to tackle her to the ground. Good thing I was there to catch him.
After Mom and Dad calmed Asad down again and went to get the kitchen squared away, Oma floated over to me. “Did your oma take care of you when your brother was born?”
“You mean Grandma Schenk?” I shook my head. “She moved to Arizona to help her sister a few years after Grandpa Schenk died. Mom says some people have a hard time staying in a place where everything reminds them of someone they’ve lost. But Uncle Gregor took care of me while Dad took Mom to the hospital, and Grandmom and Grandpop Davis came up to help us out, so we were fine.”
Oma was shaking her head. “No, no—you cannot move. You cannot leave everything behind….What if you forget?”
I shrugged. “I guess she was ready to move on.”
The next morning, Eli and I rode our bikes to Rose’s RadioJunkYardBirds, right after we fed the goats and helped Oma check on her sauerkraut. (Maybe it was a little less stinky.)
I nodded at Grace, behind the counter.
She nodded back. “Hey, HD. Hey, Eli. You want to see something?”
“Yeah, I’m here to start making my list,” I told her.
Grace smiled. “You’re getting close, huh? You got it. Where do you want to start?”
“Let’s start with the CPU,” I said.
CPU: $99.99
Motherboard: $46.99
Power supply: $39.99
Memory: $35.99
Storage: $37.99
Once I had my list of components, we went out to the warehouse to look at cases and peripherals.
Eli had never been to a junkyard before we started hanging out. But I’ve been going to junkyards my whole life with my dad and Uncle Gregor, because it’s not like you can buy a brand-new seat for the 1965 Mustang you’re working on. Nope. If the seat breaks, either you tell the customer it can’t be fixed and they should get rid of it or you talk to the junkyard people until a good one comes along.
Mei’s junkyard has a scrapyard of stuff that can get rained on, like cars for parts and tires for tire swings and old bathtubs for your goats to drink out of. Then there’s the warehouse, full of chrome stuff and expensive stuff and some computer stuff too.
Inside the warehouse, there’s a row of display counters across one end, with things that are old and cool but not valuable. This week, Mei had replaced a couple of huge ancient cell phones with a handheld game about jumping over barrels.
When I was younger, right after Mom and Dad let me see Men in Black for the first time, I thought maybe Mei had a bunch of alien technology hidden in the secret storage area behind the counters. I asked her about it once. She looked at me for a moment, like she was trying to decide whether she could trust me. Then she said, “Tell you what: you get an A in your tech class, and I’ll show you what’s in there.” Probably she was just teasing me.
Probably. But I can take tech next year, and I’m going to work hard and get an A.
Just in case.
* * *
I guess some people might be disappointed to think about buying a bunch of dusty old stuff with their pile of money that they worked really hard for, but not me. Me? I see the possibilities. Those people who buy all new things…Well, in a couple of years, those same things end up right here in Mei’s warehouse. And if they weren’t junk to start out with, why would they be junk now? (Unless they break. Then they were probably junk to start out with.)
So, yeah, I like knowing I could turn that stuff into something amazing if I wanted to, something everyone would be impressed by, instead of treating it like trash.
“Keyboards are only three dollars!” Eli said, pointing. “And mice are only a dollar! You could buy five of them!”
“Yeah, but what would I do with five mice?” I said.
Eli stared at the cases in the thirty-dollar section, which were modded out with LEDs and stuff. All those lights look cool, but they don’t actually add anything to how your computer works. A ten-dollar case works fine too.
Case: $10.00
Monitor: $25.00
Keyboard: $3.00
Mouse: $1.00
I took one last look around the warehouse and grinned. “That’s everything. Let’s go see what Mr. Z. thinks.”
* * *
Mr. Z. and Oma were hanging out in the kitchen when we got home. Oma and her apron were hovering over a cake.
She beamed when she saw us. “Who would like a piece of Mohngugelhupf?”
When we said we would, she cut it with a fancy knife I’d found in Uncle Gregor’s basement, and put the slices on Mom’s special plates.
Honestly, it tasted pretty much like any other poppy-seed cake. Eli looked at me, and opened his mouth—but I got there first. “It’s delicious, Oma. Like magic—cake magic.”
Eli looked pretty surprised, but I don’t think Oma noticed. She was too busy smiling.
Mr. Z. smiled at me and set his fork down. “Mrs. Schenk, I have not eaten such a delicious Mohngugelhupf since I was a boy. Thank you for letting me assist you.”
Oma did a little curtsy. It was my pleasure, she wrote.
I gave Eli a look.
“Nice work, Mrs. S.!” he said. “Maybe sometime we could try it with frosting, for an experiment….” He studied his cake. “How did you get the fancy swirls in it?”
“First you make two batters,” Oma said. “The ground poppy seeds go in one. Then you pour them both into the pan. Then you swirl them together, like this….” She mimicked swirling her finger around in the pan.
“You stuck your hand in it?” I asked. “Please tell me you washed your hands first, Oma! What if you have ghostly germs?”
“Can you even wash your hands?” Eli said. “We never thought to check that! Here, let me design an experiment….”
“I used a knife,” Oma said, with dignity.
Mr. Z. cleared his throat. “Er, HD, shall we look at the list you have made?”
* * *
The rest of that week went pretty well. I sorted lots more boxes, and Eli practiced his routine in his new costume. It took him a while to get used to the eyeholes. We went to the library again too. We checked out some Spider-Man and Ms. Marvel and Moon Girl comics,
and a Black Panther novel. Harry found me an article reviewing some free games I might want to try, once I build my computer. He found a book for Eli too, about a kid who tries out for a musical. And when we told him about the GOAT Obstacle Course, he said he might want to interview us about it for a future makerspace blog post, if that was okay with us.
We said that would probably be fine.
Then we ran back to Uncle Gregor’s to figure out even more cool stuff to build for it.
Finally, on Friday afternoon, I opened the last box in Uncle Gregor’s basement, and sorted it out. I put the wooden spools of thread into the “somebody else could use these” pile, because I already had thread for maker stuff. I put the issues of Popular Mechanics in the pile of stuff we could use, because Mr. Z. said sometimes they have cool projects. I put the wreath that was part wire and part really old dead plants and part dust into the trash, because the wire was all rusty. And I set the small glass bowl that wasn’t chipped at all aside to ask Oma about, because sometimes she really likes dishes, and it’s hard to know which ones.
Then I called Dad up and told him he might want to come by for a minute, because I had something to show him.
“Not another ghost?” he asked.
“Nope,” I told him. “Something even better. In fact, you might want to bring that envelope you’ve been saving.”
Dad laughed, and promised he would.
Eli said this was a big event, the grand finale of my project, so we should put on a good show. We tidied up all the bags and boxes in their piles, and I tried to vacuum the basement floor, but a light started blinking on Uncle Gregor’s shop vac, and we didn’t know what to do about that.
Dad said that was fine, though—he’d take care of it before Uncle Gregor came back. He looked at all the piles of stuff for a long time, but he didn’t move a single thing to a different pile. Then he came over and gave me a big hug and told me I did great, and that Uncle Gregor was going to be really impressed.
“I bet he’ll love having all this space in his basement,” Eli said, shuffling off to Buffalo in his skyscraper costume. He’d been practicing, so this time the box only slipped around on his head and tilted a little bit, and he didn’t crash into anything.
Dad and I applauded, and Eli took as much of a bow as he could manage in a cardboard box.
“Maybe Uncle Gregor will start a pinball arcade,” I said. “Dad, there’s this pinball machine I saw at the junkyard, and I bet it doesn’t even need that much work—”
“You’re going to have to talk to your uncle about that,” Dad said, laughing. He looked at me. “Shall we do the honors now? Or after dinner, so your mom can say what she wants to say too?”
I scuffed my sneaker on the basement floor and smiled. “Tonight would be fine.”
* * *
Eli and I walked the goats back to my house, and I told Oma about how I’d sorted all the boxes in the basement where she used to hang out, and how much space there’d be after we filled up Uncle Gregor’s trash and recycling a few more times, and donated everything else. Then I tried to explain what a pinball machine was, but she said she knew what pinball was, we should see her moves, because she was a real plungeroo. That made Eli snort-laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe. Then Dad came home and explained how it was legal for kids to play pinball now, and we say pinball wizard, not plungeroo. (She got a ghostly glint in her eye, so I think Uncle Gregor is going to have to get that pinball machine.)
After dinner, Dad stood up and tapped his glass with his fork. “Now, then.” He cleared his throat. “HD, on behalf of your uncle, your mom, and myself, thank you for taking on such a big project for us, and for your commitment to seeing it through.”
“Even when really unexpected stuff happened!” Eli said.
Dad nodded. “You’ve earned this. Great job, buddy.” He gave me the envelope with the money that Uncle Gregor had left for me.
“Nice work, sweetie. We’re so proud of you,” Mom said. Then she smiled, and asked what I was going to do with all that money.
I rolled my eyes. I knew exactly what I was going to do with it, and so did everyone else. Eli and I had big plans for Rose’s RadioJunkYardBirds the next day. (I told Dad he could drive us there. He seemed pleased about that.)
Finally, finally, FINALLY, it was time to buy my components.
But the next morning, Oma decided she needed me to take the lid off her crock, even though she has been doing the strength training course that Eli and I designed for her, so we knew she was strong enough to lift it herself.
“Mrs. S. sniffs the sauerkraut,” Eli announced. “We don’t know why she can smell things but not taste them….Will it be ready? The crowd waits in silence….What’s this? She’s asking HD to take the little plates out of the top of the crock. We’ve never seen this before! HD is pushing back, he’s saying there’s some stuff floating on the top and he’s not sure it’s a good idea to stick his hand in there. (Is it moldy, HD?) HD reports it’s not exactly moldy, he doesn’t think, just kind of weird-looking. Ah, he’s got some bacon tongs now, and he’s picking up a plate with the tongs, and lifting it out….(Careful, HD! If you break that, your mom’s going to be mad.) The first plate is safely in the sink! Now for the next one….Whoops! Good catch, Mrs. S.!”
Oma examined the sauerkraut. She floated closer and sniffed it again.
I sniffed too. It didn’t smell like old socks anymore—it smelled kind of like a pickle.
Oma looked up at me, and beamed. “We must call Mr. Ziedrich!”
“Okay, we can call him as soon as we get back from Rose’s,” I told her.
“No, no—we must call him right now!” Oma insisted.
I shrugged. “You can email him yourself and see if he can come help you while we’re gone, if you want.”
“No!” Oma said. “You must stay and help me!”
I took a deep breath, like Mom does when Asad throws a fit. Sometimes Oma wasn’t all that different.
“Here’s the thing, Mrs. S.,” Eli explained. “This morning, we’ve got to do HD’s plan, because we’ve already worked it out with his dad, and he’s been waiting to do this all year. But after that, we can help you. So, what is your plan, aside from calling Mr. Z., and us helping you? What kind of grand finale do you need for your sauerkraut?”
Oma blinked. “Well…”
But I was thinking now. “Oma, sauerkraut isn’t exactly a breakfast food anyway, is it? So really, we should try it tonight instead. What if we had a sauerkraut-tasting party, with sausages and stuff?”
“Yes!” Eli said, pumping his fist. “I’ll be your announcer, and you can make some brownies or something.”
“We could invite Mr. Z., and maybe Ms. Stevermer,” I said. Oma hadn’t interrupted yet, so I kept going. “You want everyone to taste it, don’t you?”
“Will that work for you?” Eli asked. “Because we should probably tell HD’s mom before she goes to the store, if we want that to happen.”
Oma still didn’t look that happy about it, but finally, she nodded. “I suppose it will do.”
* * *
So Dad drove me and Eli to Rose’s RadioJunkYardBirds. One thing I like about my dad is that he knows how to stay out of the way and let a person do their thing. We told him we were cool, so he went off to look at speakers and let Mei know about some leftover parts from the auto body shop, in case she wanted to buy them, and to see if she had the right kind of Harley-Davidson wheel hub in stock. Dad knows some stuff about electronics, but mostly about car electronics. (Well, and tanks, and stuff like that—that’s what he worked on in the army.)
First we went to see Grace.
I have never had more than a hundred dollars in my life before. All those twenty-dollar bills barely fit in my wallet! When we went in, I looked around at everything I could buy, and I had to grin. If I was just some normal k
id, I could have bought a fancy game system and gone right home and played it.
But that’s not me. I had a plan.
“Hey, HD. Hey, Eli. You want to see something?” Grace nodded at us.
I was trying to play it cool, like I did this all the time, but I couldn’t stop grinning. “Hey, Grace. I think I’m ready to do some buying today.”
Grace’s eyebrows went up, and she gave me the nod, real slow, impressed. “So you got the job done. Nice work, HD.”
“Let’s start with the CPU we talked about, and work down the list,” I told her. “Eli, will you keep track of the project costs?”
Grace handed Eli a calculator. He turned it on and got ready.
It was pretty awesome, to be able to point to something and just be, like, “Yeah, let’s go with that one,” and watch Grace pile it all up into a stack for me to buy. At least, it was awesome until I found out somebody else had already bought the motherboard I wanted.
“I’m sorry,” Grace told me. “I was hoping we might get more in before you needed yours. This would work fine too, though.” She handed me another option. “It’s a little bit newer, it would work with your CPU and the rest of your components, and it’s getting great reviews. It’s twenty dollars more, though.”
I bit my lip. My project budget was already tight. “Eli, what would the total be if I bought that motherboard?”
Eli did some more calculating. “It’s $280.95 so far.”
“You brought your student ID card, though, right?” Grace asked.
I nodded. “Can you subtract five percent for my student discount?”