This is What I Did Read online

  So high they were almost gone.

  Gone.

  A few months ago somebody threw a bagel with a pickle in the middle at our front door.

  Mom: This has gotten out of hand.

  Dad: Silvia, it’s no big deal. Kids will be kids.

  Mom: Tom, are you blind? Are you dumb? Are you out of your ever-loving mind? This is abuse.

  Dad: Calm down.

  Mom: Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. Don’t you dare.

  Dad: Silvia . . .

  Mom: Tom, I’ve had it. I’ve had it. You go to work all day. You don’t know. You don’t see.

  Dad: You think I don’t see? You think I don’t know? He’s holed up in his room every night. And what about Jack and the whole Scout ordeal?

  Mom:

  Dad: And a lot of this is your fault.

  Mom: What are you talking about?

  Dad: Why did you tell people in the neighborhood Logan was having a hard time? You always do this. You always do this.

  Mom: Oh come on, Jack. Don’t blame this one on me. I’m not taking this one. I thought we agreed we wanted to protect him. I thought we agreed that we would do whatever we could.

  Dad: Calling people and telling them Logan had had problems and was severely depressed did not help him, Silvia.

  Dad bought tickets to the NBA playoffs after the Zyler thing.

  Dad never buys things like playoff tickets.

  And he only got two because the prices went up and we had just moved.

  Dad said the tickets were for me and him only.

  Even though Mack and Ryan wanted to go, my dad said no.

  But Mack and Ryan were mad because they played Jr. Nuggets and they were good.

  They were the “dynamic duo” in the sixth grade league and they said how I didn’t even know how to play.

  I didn’t know how to play.

  Not really.

  But me and Zyler loved the Nuggets.

  It was the only team I liked. The only one I even knew the players of and cared about.

  Dad liked that I cared and he didn’t let Mack and Ryan go.

  Dad: You guys can watch it on TV.

  Mack and Ryan: Logan can watch it on TV.

  Dad: Stop pushing me or I won’t pay for Elite.

  So then they stopped pushing.

  You can’t push Dad too far and they wouldn’t give up Elite summer basketball camp for anything. Not even upper-bowl playoff tickets with popcorn and Coke (because Mom wasn’t there).

  I went and it was okay.

  But it was also weird.

  Sort of like a charity case because I knew it was because of Zyler and me and everything and it didn’t really help, and plus, I don’t even know how to play.

  Mom drives me home from Alta now.

  The bus wasn’t too bad.

  In fact, at the beginning, it was almost all the way okay because most of the guys that were “The Ones” got rides with older brothers or sisters or neighborhood carpools.

  My mom asked Patsy why hardly any of the boys rode the bus.

  Patsy said the boys didn’t like the bus or the old bus driver, who I heard was named Ben.

  Patsy: We just don’t trust the school bus system. You know, that old driver had it in for Brucey.

  That’s what she told Mom and that was it.

  Except then Mom asked: What do you mean, out for him?

  They were on the front porch.

  Patsy: Well, that man kept harassing Brucey, so I called and complained and had Jack see what he could do. He has a lot of pull around here since he got that city chair.

  That’s all she said and Mom and Patsy were pretty good friends by then because of Dad and Jack playing NBA Live, but after awhile Mom said she wasn’t sure what Patsy was up to.

  Mom didn’t know for sure if Patsy had “pure intentions.” Sometimes, she said, people will trick you. It takes a while to get to know someone all the way.

  A while like almost six months.

  That’s when Dad and Jack got in a fight and then Mom found out for sure.

  Now Mom drives me to school in the minivan on her way to drop the others back at Mulholland because she thinks I can’t take care of myself.

  She’s [whisper] scared for me.

  I don’t care.

  In the hall I see Laurel a lot.

  And I won’t look at her or anything because I don’t want her to think I am staring or anything like that.

  But then one day I couldn’t help it.

  She came to school in a sequiny green dress thing and her brown hair was all up or something.

  Like she was in the movies.

  She even had these clicky green sequiny heels that looked really hard to walk in.

  When she was walking down the hall with her backpack dragging behind her on wheels, everyone sort of stepped back and stared.

  A few people yelled stuff like: “Dork!” and “Yeah, right, Laurel. You wish.” and “You’re an idiot.”

  She kept walking and that was it.

  I wrote this note to Laurel:

  But then I thought maybe she wouldn’t know me or think it was dumb.

  Plus, if you get caught in school with a note the teacher reads it out loud.

  So I just ripped it up.

  Once Bruce decided I was crapstock, for some reason everyone else thought I was crapstock too.

  It was like a bomb.

  It exploded, I mean, and everyone liked to say it.

  “Crapstock.”

  Zyler and I weren’t crapstock at Mulholland.

  At least Zyler wasn’t.

  Maybe I was.

  Maybe I was and I just didn’t know it.

  Here’s how the crapstock bomb went off: I was outside because we had just moved in and I was sick of being inside and my mom and dad yelling for someone to bring something up and someone to bring something down.

  I was also tired because my bike was at Mulholland still because I left it at me and Zyler’s spot just in case.

  So I hadn’t really been riding around.

  That meant I got tired very, very, very easily.

  Our house on Judge was really big with a really big yard.

  Much bigger than the Mulholland house with the strip of grass for Red light, Green light and hardly any front yard for Mom’s tulips.

  Judge was an upgrade.

  So I was on the grass picking at it and resting when Bruce and Luke and Toby came walking up. Except I didn’t know they were Bruce and Luke and Toby yet.

  Bruce: You just moved in.

  Me: Uh-huh.

  Luke: Why?

  Me: What?

  Luke: Why?

  Me: Why what?

  Bruce: Why did you move here, moron?

  I was thinking and thinking and trying to think what to say.

  Bruce: Hey, MOOORRRROOONNN, what’s your problem?

  Luke and Toby laughed and I didn’t.

  I just sat there.

  Bruce: Well, that seals it, boys. We thought maybe someone cool was moving in but my hunch was right. You’re crapstock. Once crapstock, always crapstock — can smell the moldy crap clear down the street.

  And then I think they left.

  I’m not sure because I don’t remember all that well since I was crapstock.

  At school I don’t sit with anyone really.

  I have friends:

  Lael

  Ricky

  Shaun

  Mark

  Liza

  Tallie

  Those are the ones that are sort of my friends because of different reasons, like Lael and I have physics together and math club after school.

  But that’s it because he lives really far away and he only does school activities and he can’t go to people’s houses if it’s not school-related.

  At least that’s what he told me when I invited him to sleep over once.

  Ricky and Shaun are cool in my Life Skills class because we are the only boys and we sit together and laugh
at Mrs. Shumway and her waddle.

  But then I never see them again.

  I think they have second lunch.

  Mark is in my choir class and first lunch and he’s okay, but I think he has mental problems because he doesn’t really get what I say and he hates anything about aerodynamics or science or anything like that.

  He mostly just likes to draw Manga.

  Sometimes we talk about comic books but he really doesn’t even know that much about them.

  And Liza and Tallie are in my Sunday school class.

  They’re okay, but I don’t really like to hang around with girls.

  Except maybe Laurel.

  She’s pretty cool.

  She’s kind of like Cami in how I sort of like her.

  Zyler and I both liked Cami, but in the way where you don’t-really-talk-to-her like her.

  And she knew because her friend Macy called us at Zyler’s house when we were having a sleepover and asked which one of us it was.

  No girls had ever called us and at first

  Macy just said: Who likes Cami? You or Logan?

  It was on speakerphone and we didn’t even know who was talking.

  Zyler: Well, who wants to know?

  Macy: Just answer the question.

  I shook my head at Zyler.

  Zyler: I can’t spill that kind of information unless I know who I’m dealing with.

  Macy didn’t say anything for a while because she was whispering or was muffled and then she said: It’s Macy Clayton. Now answer the question.

  Zyler looked at me and I shook my head again. There was no right answer to the question and the whole thing was very shady.

  Zyler: That information shall be forthcoming but not anytime soon. Please inquire at a later date.

  Then he hung up.

  Zyler: How did they know we were at my house?

  And I didn’t know how they knew.

  We never went to Zyler’s house for sleepovers because his dad was MEAN.

  But this time we did because his dad had a job in Utah and wasn’t going to be home for two days.

  So it was just us and Zyler’s twenty-year-old sister, Sharon-with-a-boyfriend, who was usually never there because she sort of lives with her boyfriend.

  Me: I don’t know how they knew.

  Zyler: Maybe they were spying on us.

  Me: Or maybe they were just calling you. Maybe they didn’t know I was here.

  Zyler: No. They knew. You could tell they knew. I bet they were spying on us — probably.

  We ate some Cheetos that we’d got at the Minute Man down the street because Sharon gave us a ten and told us to shut up.

  She was cool sometimes but sometimes not.

  So we ate the Cheetos and sort of talked about Cami and the phone call, but we didn’t talk about it that much because we wanted to watch Mystery Science Theater 3000.

  When Zyler fell asleep I started thinking about it again.

  Who did Cami like? Maybe she liked me but more maybe she liked Zyler.

  It probably wasn’t me because I didn’t really talk so much when girls or other people were around.

  Mostly just when I was with Zyler.

  But Zyler could talk when he wanted to. I mean if he felt like it, and he was pretty funny too.

  And when you thought about it, Zyler had a sort of good-looking face.

  It wasn’t all the way good-looking but it was older-looking. And he had big green eyes that my mom called piercing — especially for his dark coloring, she would say.

  And since I was regular with nothing really special on my face except freckles and usually sunburns.

  Plus, I’d started to have a gut and that’s why I hated going swimming because it would hang over sort of like Dad’s, but not ten times as bad as Dad’s.

  So that’s another reason I thought she probably liked Zyler.

  But mostly Zyler didn’t say that maybe she liked him or me more.

  He just said it didn’t matter.

  And I thought he really meant it.

  He said she was cute just like I did because of her red red ponytail and her different socks but he wasn’t about to like like her.

  Neither was I.

  I wonder where Cami is now.

  I wonder if she hates me as much as I think she does.

  I heard her parents sent her to live with an aunt for a while in Detroit or Delaware or something.

  If I were her I would move to Hong Kong.

  Because sometimes you just want to be nowhere.

  Or Hong Kong.

  At the beginning of Christmas break Mom took me to the Reagan Towers downtown.

  I thought we were going Christmas shopping for the others because they all had to stay home, but instead she took me to the Towers.

  I’d never been there before and I had no idea what was going on.

  But then we went in this office with Dr. Jim Benson on it and the

  Secretary said: Just one moment and he’ll see you.

  We sat down on a couch that was pretty nice but not really really nice.

  It was a small office and there was a fish tank.

  It seems like most doctors’ offices have fish tanks and Highlights magazines.

  Then a doctor came out of a door and said: Mrs. Paloney, why don’t you step in first.

  Mom got up and smoothed her round hair and walked into the office.

  She said to me: I’ll be right back.

  Before, on the elevator, I had asked her: Where are we going?

  She said: You’ll see. It’s no big deal but it’s something we need.

  Me: What do you mean?

  She: Honey, just relax. This whole thing isn’t just about you.

  And then the bing of the elevator came and another guy got on and pushed eleven. We were going to ten and I couldn’t talk to Mom while the guy was in there.

  He had a big box of papers and he was wearing a suit even though he looked like a teenager.

  At ten we got off and I didn’t have time to say anything to Mom before the secretary and doctor, and then she was in the office.

  I was almost going to ask the lady what kind of a doctor he was or where we were.

  But I knew I wouldn’t.

  I just looked at the Highlights.

  That was my first appointment with Dr. Jim Benson.

  I just decided to write another note and I even gave it to Laurel.

  I’m in a play at school.

  It’s pretty soon.

  I tried out because they announced it in class and I thought maybe I would try out.

  The play is Peter Pan and I got the part of a Lost Boy.

  There are a lot of Lost Boys but I still got the part.

  This is how I tried out: They said you had to go for three days after school and I wasn’t going to do it because I didn’t know how to act or even if I could sing.

  You had to sing for this one.

  Mom said I could sing.

  In church I sang.

  So I went to tryouts just to see what it was like.

  And to see who was there.

  No Bruce. No Luke. No Toby. No girls like Carmen or Vanessa or Mallory.

  I didn’t really know anyone except Laurel was there.

  That’s when I decided to just try it.

  Just up and try it.

  So I signed up and sat down in the auditorium seats with a whole bunch of other people I sort of knew but didn’t and waited for my turn. When they got to the M’s I was almost sick and throw-uppy.

  Lots of them knew how to sing really good and I did too, I said to myself.

  And some weren’t so good.

  I was better than some for sure.

  So then Michael Olsen went and he sang “Taps” — the song we sing in Scouts when we lower the flag. It was pretty good but he sang really shaky old-like. Like he was in an opera, and it sounded weird to me.

  Then it was my turn.

  Here’s what happened when I tried out:

/>   I got up there and there was a light on me.

  Director People: What will you be singing?

  Me: A hymn called “Where Can I Turn for Peace?”

  Everyone watching: (whispering)

  No one had sung a hymn or anything and I wasn’t sure if you were even allowed to — sing about God or anything. But I didn’t know all the words to any other song.

  Director People: Okay, go ahead.

  And then I just sang it.

  I was glad that there wasn’t a piano or anything because then I could make it as high as I wanted and so I did.

  And at first I sounded really bad.

  I mean I thought I did, but no one was really laughing.

  So I sang the whole thing.

  I mean the whole first verse.

  I didn’t look up or anything.

  I just sang.

  I probably should have looked up because then they might have given me a part as a pirate or John or something.

  But I didn’t want to look up.

  Director People after I sang:

  Everyone watching:

  Me:

  I still was looking at the ground. Why wouldn’t anyone say anything?

  Director People: Okay, thank you.

  And that was it.

  After that day and another day of reading lines and another day of doing a dance I got a part.

  I became a Lost Boy in the play Peter Pan.

  When I found out I was in the play I wanted to maybe get in shape.

  That’s why I drank a weight-loss shake, and it wasn’t too bad.

  I was down in my room so no one would see.

  Especially not Mack or Ryan.

  The play was in two months, at the end of May, and maybe I could lose some weight by then.

  I wonder if Zyler would’ve thought a play was dumb.

  He probably would’ve liked it. Especially since he would have been a lead part like Captain Hook, I bet.

  Because of the play and because of Scouts, I think Mom and Dad thought I was okay.

  I never told them about Bruce or Toby or Luke.

  They thought we were friends maybe.

  They thought things were better.

  After the thing with Zyler, I was alone and I wouldn’t leave my room.

  And.

  I.

  Was.

  Sad.

  So they thought I had friends at Judge.