This is What I Did Read online

  Text copyright © 2007 by Ann Dee Ellis

  All rights reserved.

  Little, Brown and Company

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10169

  Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  First eBook Edition: January 2009

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-316-04064-8

  Contents

  This is What I Did:

  To Cameron

  Here’s why: why not

  This is What I Did:

  Last week Bruce kicked me in the balls at Scouts and all his buddies were there laughing and I started crying.

  I was lying there crying.

  Them: Wah Wah Wah Wah Wah Wah

  They were chanting it and yelling it.

  I didn’t care.

  I didn’t.

  After what had happened with Zyler and his dad and the whole thing, I could take anything.

  I proved that at the Klondike Derby.

  So I just lay there curled up and crying still.

  That was Wednesday after Scouts — my first time back because Dr. Benson said I should go and my parents agreed.

  When I came home I tried not to tell Dad.

  I didn’t want to say: Dad, I got kicked in the balls at Scouts and then they all made a circle around me.

  Bruce: Watch the crapstock bawl, guys.

  All of them: Wah Wah Wah Wah Wah!

  So I went straight to my room. I was late because I was supposed to walk straight home from the church after Scouts.

  And I did walk home, but not until they had all left and I was still lying there on the gym floor.

  Me: I’m fine, Dad.

  That’s what I said because since I was late; he was knocking on my door.

  Me: I’m fine, Dad.

  But he wouldn’t let it go. He never lets it go.

  Me: Okay, you can come in.

  Dad: What’s wrong, Logan?

  He was trying not to look all worried. I could tell.

  Me: Nothing’s wrong.

  Nothing’s wrong.

  He sat on my bed and I was sitting on the floor going through my comic books — just like normal. Nothing’s wrong.

  Dad: Tell me. Was it those boys again? Tell me right now. Was it Jack?

  Me: There’s nothing nothing WRONG WRONG WRONG, DAD!

  It came out a lot louder than I thought it would, but not as loud as it was in my head.

  I never knew what to say or how to control anything anymore.

  I didn’t want him to know.

  Dad: You can tell me anything . . . anything. I won’t get mad or try to fix it: I promise.

  And he says how we can’t let things go as long as we did before.

  Dad: Logan, you have to tell me. You have to.

  Me: I know Dad, I know. I will. If anything is wrong, I’ll tell you. I’m fine.

  A year ago I was fine. That’s when there was nothing wrong.

  A year ago, in seventh grade, I was fine.

  We were living on Mulholland with the hills and the lake and the freeway and the Minute Man Gas Stop and my best friend, Zyler, ate Twinkies and Coke and hated girls, except one.

  I couldn’t eat Twinkies or Coke because of Mom, but I hated girls too, except one.

  At school we weren’t so cool but we weren’t so not cool.

  Zyler and I would sit and talk about whatever we wanted: aerodynamics, space-time continuum, Cami Wakefield, fencing, the Denver Nuggets, Lamborghinis, and soggy Tater Tots for darts in the school lunchroom.

  No one cared what we said and we didn’t care what anyone else said.

  Now we don’t live on Mulholland.

  We live on Judge.

  And Judge looks sort of like Mulholland: the same zip code, the same trees, the same houses with grass, the same cars and minivans.

  But Judge isn’t Mulholland.

  When my parents were looking for a new house, a new place to go, I started checking out books.

  Zyler was gone and they didn’t make me go to school, so I went to the library and checked out books.

  And I would just read.

  Stay in my room and read.

  And not talk.

  And not do anything.

  I didn’t want to do anything.

  Not talk.

  I just read.

  I have a family that is good.

  There are three kids and my mom is pregnant even though she hasn’t had a kid for eleven years.

  When Bruce found out he said my mom and dad are sex fiends and the worst kind of sex fiends because they are old sex fiends, and then I must be a sex fiend too.

  Ha, ha.

  We were in the hall and there were so many people.

  Everyone stopped when Bruce said the sex fiend thing. I mean, not everyone . . . but a lot of people stopped to see what I would say or what I would do.

  I didn’t know what to say or what to do.

  Bruce: So, are your parents going at it twenty-four seven or is it more like twenty-three seven?

  Me: Huh?

  Judge isn’t 100 100 100 percent all bad.

  At least on Judge I have the only bedroom in the basement.

  That means that I don’t have to be by Mom and Dad’s room.

  It’s not that I think they are like what Bruce said about sex and everything.

  They are just normal parents.

  But

  I never really thought about it.

  They do have three kids and Mom is old and pregnant.

  They do get these weird laughing voices on sometimes even at the dinner table when they tease each other, and I used to not notice but now it makes me sick.

  I like to be in the basement far away from everyone and that’s it.

  Sometimes I have to be in charge because Mom and Dad go on dates a lot.

  I never really thought about dates before with parents.

  Like, is that normal or is that not normal?

  One time after we moved, Mack, one of my twin brothers, said I shouldn’t be in charge.

  I was eating a sandwich at the table and Mack and Ryan were sitting on the couch eating chips.

  Mack: Just because he’s the oldest doesn’t mean he should be in charge.

  Mom: I’m not talking about this right now.

  Mack: Mom, he’s such a loser. He ruins everything.

  Ryan laughed.

  Mom stopped washing the dishes and looked at him and then at me and then back at him. Mom in a talk-shout: Don’t you ever, ever say something like that about your brother. Ever!

  She slammed the plate she was holding on the counter, walked over to the couch, yanked Mack up, and took him into the office.

  Ryan laughed again.

  I took another bite of sandwich.

  They were in the office for a long time.

  The twins are eleven and I’m thirteen and it’s true: Just because I’m oldest doesn’t mean I should be in charge.

  Mack didn’t want to move to Judge even though it didn’t really matter. He and Ryan do whatever they want anyway and they’re always together. Plus, they found out there’s a full basketball court at the park at the end of our street and plus, Mom drives them back to Mulholland for school because it is not far and because of basketball. Mack just likes to complain and he gets upset about everything.

  For a while “being in charge” wasn’t an issue because Mom and Dad didn’t really go out or do anything after the Zyler thing.

  But then: Back to normal. Everything needs to get back to normal, Dad said.

  And plus, I was fine. Just f
ine.

  Dad works at Core Rotating. He’s worked there for years and he makes rotators for signs.

  That means the turning McDonald’s sign and the turning piano on top of Jorgensen’s Music have machines under them that have rotators that make them turn because of torque.

  He even helped with the biggest one ever made, at NASCAR. It holds a car and a gigantic sign.

  In school I thought it might help.

  Me: My dad helped make the rotator for the biggest sign in the country, at the NASCAR racetrack.

  Mr. Lopez: That’s very interesting, Logan. Isn’t that interesting, class?

  No one said anything or looked up even. Except a girl I found out was named Laurel, and she smiled.

  When I sat down I heard this: Hey, rotator retard . . . why don’t you rotate your ass out of here?

  It was hissed so that Mr. Lopez couldn’t hear. I didn’t look back to see who it was because that was the first day at Alta Jr. High.

  I couldn’t look back.

  I think it was Luke Randall who said it.

  That was back in first term of this year — eighth grade — and I never knew for sure because Luke and Bruce and Toby were all in that class.

  But Luke was the closest to my seat.

  They all laughed though.

  Even the girls like Carmen and Vanessa and Mallory.

  But then one thing happened: The girl I found out was named Laurel handed me a piece of paper after class and then disappeared sort of.

  The paper said this:

  Encarta Online Dictionary: Palindrome 1. text reading the same backward as forward: a word, phrase, passage, or number that reads the same forward and backward, e.g. “Anna,” “Draw, o coward.”

  And I guess, racecar.

  Racecar racecar.

  Laurel is in two of my classes this term.

  She has a big nose.

  I like it.

  For the first few weeks of school I rode the bus instead of walked, like Zyler and I used to do. Because Judge was too far away from Alta Jr. High and maybe I’d make some friends.

  That was Mom’s idea because she tried to have friends everywhere.

  Even on Judge before we moved there because she had found out phone numbers of the neighbors and introduced herself.

  Hi, I’m Silvia Paloney and my family and I are going to be moving into the Carter house.

  Pause

  Yes, we’re really excited.

  Pause

  Uh-huh.

  Pause

  Well it’s great to meet you, Lucille. We’re really excited to move into the neighborhood.

  Pause

  Uh, well, actually we don’t live too far away. We’re just on the west side by the lake, but we wanted to move into a new environment — get away from the freeway.

  Pause

  Uh-huh.

  Pause

  Umm, yeah, my husband works at a place downtown so we didn’t want to move too far away but, you know, just to a better situation.

  Pause

  Well, it’s sort of hard to explain. The easiest way to put it is we need a change — Especially my oldest boy.

  And then she would start to whisper because she knew I was on the computer, seven point two steps away.

  It was almost the same conversation with everyone: the Smiths, the Knights, the Hongs, the Taylors, the Andersons.

  And it didn’t matter except it meant that before we even got to Judge my mom had friends: friends who knew she had a reject son for a son.

  Mom and Dad met in HIGH SCHOOL.

  They were both, I think, the popular ones in high school because you can feel it in the way they talk about it and how they want me to be excited about school and everything.

  Plus how they looked.

  Dad was hunky with muscles and football arms, says Mom.

  Mom had long hair that was straight and, my dad says, super sexy. Plus, he said she had a very swayey walk that she still uses, he says.

  But first he dated one of my mom’s best friends.

  Mom: He was going out with my best friend . . . but not my very best friend, just one of my best friends.

  Dad: Your mother had a lot of best friends and I had to make my way through all of them to get to her.

  Ha ha kiss kiss sex fiends?

  I think I might be sort of messed up.

  I used to have only one best friend and it was Zyler. And nobody ever dated him or me or anybody.

  But there was Cami Wakefield.

  She didn’t live on Mulholland.

  She lived on Oak and that was three streets down from Zyler and four houses in past the fire hydrant, and her house was the one with the blue shutters and the bushes that were trimmed into pinwheels.

  They weren’t really pinwheels — they were more like spirals.

  And Mr. Wakefield was always out clipping the bushes when we rode by on our bikes. But we never stopped.

  We’d just ride by and act like it was normal and we would do this: see if maybe Cami was helping her dad or maybe pulling weeds or something.

  I remember the last time we did it.

  It was the afternoon before that night.

  Everything was the same except now that I think about it, nothing was the same.

  Cami’s dad wasn’t outside and Cami wasn’t outside.

  And I just rode really fast like I always did in case someone saw me.

  But Zyler didn’t.

  He was sort of riding slower than usual.

  I should have guessed then.

  I should have known something was going to happen.

  Why did it have to happen, Zyler?

  I figured out some more palindromes like racecar: Mom and Dad.

  Those are easy ones and dumb, but I’m going to find a cool one online or something and tell Laurel.

  Maybe in a note too.

  When we first moved in, this guy Jack and his wife, Patsy, came over to give us cookies and meet us.

  Patsy and Mom had already chatted on the phone a couple of times and Mom thought she was really nice and probably knew a lot of people.

  My mom was always talking, talking so I knew Patsy knew about me.

  Patsy: You must be Logan.

  Me:

  Patsy: Well, I’ve got a son your exact age. His name is Bruce.

  Me:

  Patsy: You are just going to love him. He’s a doll.

  Me:

  Patsy: Are you okay?

  Me: Yeah.

  Mom: He’s just a little shy.

  Patsy: Of course. Well, Brucey is out terrorizing the neighborhood but I’ll send him and his friends over to meet you first chance I get.

  Me: Okay.

  Patsy: It’ll be good to have friends before you start a new school next week.

  Me:

  Mom: Thank you so much, Patsy. Logan would love it. Wouldn’t you?

  Me: Sure.

  That same time was when Jack and my dad found out they’re both mechanical engineers and they both play NBA Live on Gamecube.

  And so they got to be good friends.

  It used to be they would play every Sunday afternoon with other guys in the neighborhood and sometimes I would go watch.

  I would go because Dad wanted me to go.

  Dad: Come on, you like Gamecube. And this is a bunch of men being men.

  I guess I liked Gamecube all right. But there were better games on better systems and plus I didn’t like to play basketball and baseball and hockey and those kinds of games.

  But my dad said: Please? Come on.

  I knew he wanted me to be Normal.

  He wanted me to like sports like he liked sports and Mack and Ryan like sports.

  So I went.

  A few times.

  Dad wanted me to do Scouts because he did Scouts and it was good for him.

  Dad said: Logan, I promise you’ll like it.

  Me: I don’t think so, Dad.

  Dad: Please, Logan. You can trust me on this one.
r />   Me: Why don’t you make the twins do it?

  Dad: They’re too busy with sports. Come on, Logan. You’ll love it.

  He sounded weird. Desperate.

  Me: I don’t know.

  Dad: Let’s just give it a try.

  So I gave it a try. I knew that there would be Bruce and Toby and Luke there, but I also knew that in Scouts you had to do a lot of stuff.

  Like earn merit badges and go on campouts, which could be good and bad.

  Good because maybe those guys would be distracted and not have time to harass me.

  Good because maybe I would get to learn how to swim better and hike better and climb and things like that.

  Good because Dad really wanted me to do it and I really wanted to do it for him too sort of.

  Bad because a campout meant more time for Bruce and Toby and Luke to do stuff to me or say stuff to me or do whatever they wanted.

  Bad because I knew I wasn’t good at swimming and hiking and climbing and stuff like that.

  Bad because if I couldn’t do it or didn’t want to do it, Dad would think I was a loser again.

  The Scout Master was Bruce’s dad, Jack.

  And Dad was so glad to say that I said I would do it.

  One time after NBA Live:

  Jack: It’ll be good for him.

  Dad: Yeah, I know. And he’s excited, aren’t you, Logan?

  Me: Yeah. Yeah.

  Dad always thinks he can fix everything.

  He can’t.

  Mack and Ryan won a basketball tournament and they got co-MVPs.

  Dad says it’s great and so does Mom.

  They were shouting all night and yelling and high-fiving and I went in my room and it was okay.

  I mean it was okay because they were good.

  Zyler and I used to sort of play with Mack and Ryan sometimes.

  I was so bad, they said, but Zyler had a nice shot and they liked to play with him.

  We played horse and stuff and it would be funny because we’d shoot it off the roof or we’d shoot standing on the rail the twins got for their Rollerblades.

  I don’t play with them anymore. Even if they ask.

  They were upstairs yelling and I was in my room reading about fighter jets that could almost get out of the atmosphere.