This is What I Did Page 6

  I’d just go home after dinner and not to Zyler’s house.

  Maybe I’d call him and he’d come over.

  If we’d been at my house it wouldn’t have happened.

  Nothing would have happened.

  One time I asked Zyler how come he didn’t turn his dad in or anything.

  He shrugged and kept shooting cans.

  I didn’t know if I should ask again but then

  He said: You don’t get it.

  Me: What do you mean?

  Zyler: Where would I go if Dad was gone?

  Me:

  Zyler: Sometimes you don’t get anything.

  Me:

  Zyler: Besides, it never works.

  Me: You mean you’ve tried?

  Zyler: I haven’t. But people have.

  Me: Who?

  Zyler: People.

  He was quiet and then he shot a can. I sat there and then

  Zyler: The worst one was Mrs. Magelby.

  Me: Mrs. Magelby?

  Mrs. Magelby was our fifth grade teacher and I couldn’t believe she of all people would try to rat out Zyler’s dad.

  Me: Why was it the worst? What happened?

  Zyler: I came to school and I guess I had a black eye or a big lip or something and she asked me about it and I said that I had fallen down or hit the door or something. And she got all mad and said she wouldn’t let it happen again. It’d gone on long enough.

  He shot another can.

  Me: So?

  I still couldn’t imagine it. I mean, I could see her getting all concerned because she was our best teacher in elementary. Really young and pretty and really nice, but not tough or anything. Not anyone to take on Zyler’s dad.

  Zyler:

  Me: So? What did she do? Did she call Child Services or anything?

  Mom was always saying Child Services would have Zyler’s dad’s head or something.

  Zyler: No Child Services — she went straight to the source.

  He missed a can.

  Me: What do you mean?

  Zyler: She went to see my dad right after school.

  I almost choked on the candy I was chewing. We were in the field by the lake that’s out past the freeway, and like usual, he was shooting and I was watching — no guns, says Mom.

  Me: What happened?

  Zyler: Nothing.

  Me: What do you mean?

  Zyler:

  Me: What happened?

  Zyler: I don’t know. I know she came over. I know I had to go to my room. I know I heard my dad’s voice real loud. I know she never called anyone.

  Me: Wow.

  Zyler: Shut up.

  Me: What was that for?

  Zyler: Sorry.

  Me: It’s okay.

  And that was it.

  My parents were always really nice to Zyler and let him sleep over.

  He could even eat whatever he wanted even though we didn’t have good food and Mom was usually anal about snacks and stuff, but not when Zyler was around.

  She said we just had to love him.

  I know she’d talked to Dad about letting him live with us or doing something.

  But Dad said we couldn’t and he wasn’t their son or anything and we didn’t know all the circumstances and being a single parent was hard.

  But see, they didn’t know what really went on and I barely did and Zyler didn’t want anyone to know.

  Zyler: Don’t tell anyone about my dad or anything.

  Me: Why?

  Zyler: Just don’t.

  Me: Okay. But it’s pretty obvious.

  Zyler: People need to mind their own business or else it could get not good, get it?

  Me: Yeah.

  But I didn’t really get it.

  Zyler: Promise me you won’t say anything about my dad or anything.

  Me: Okay.

  Dr. Benson . . .

  He’s actually not that bad.

  He hates snow camping and he was in the school band.

  He’s okay.

  After play practice I didn’t wait for anyone like Laurel or the other ones who signed up for set making.

  I just walked straight to the art room in C wing because I knew if I didn’t go straight I’d never go again, and I told Ms. March I would.

  Mr. Jeffries was there. I have him for fifth period: Art 1.

  He went: Ahh, Mr. Paloney. I’m so glad you’re here. We missed you yesterday.

  Me: Thanks [It was all I could think of to say: Thanks].

  Mr. Jeffries: Well, since you’re the first one, why don’t you help me get started on the trunk.

  Mr. Jeffries was a pretty cool guy with a mustache and jeans instead of ties like a lot of other teachers. Plus, he thought I was good at things like collages and he said my pencil drawing of my tennis shoe was: Right on.

  I said okay and I watched him showing us how to hammer the plywood together.

  As he was talking, people — not very many, but some — started coming in.

  They all seemed to know where to go, what to do.

  Laurel came in semi-last and she went straight to where they were making leaves.

  She didn’t look at me.

  There hadn’t been any notes because I didn’t ever write back and I knew she probably hated me.

  But then I did something.

  I had to use a staple gun and there was one over by the leaves.

  Me: Does anyone know where a staple gun is?

  I knew it was by her, but I said it anyway.

  Laurel: It’s right here.

  And she handed it to me.

  When I took it she didn’t let it go right away. That made me look at her. She looked back and sort of smiled.

  And then she let go.

  I was confused but I guess sort of relieved.

  I decided to find out more about Laurel.

  Stuff I know from just watching:

  She got a C on her pre-algebra test about balancing the equation. I got a B+.

  She has a locker in D wing.

  Stuff I know from Lael, who lives on her street:

  She lives on Richter Street.

  She has maybe one or two brothers and sisters and her parents are normal.

  Her mom used to be an actress and everyone knows it because she was in community shows and in the parade.

  Laurel also won the spelling bee in sixth grade and went all the way to regionals — Lael was mad about that.

  Oh, and Lael thinks she’s crazy.

  I sort of tried to tell Jack I didn’t want to go on the Klondike Derby.

  It took me a long time to tell him because I didn’t know what to say and he hated me anyway.

  WUSS.

  That’s what I am.

  CRAPSTOCK.

  Me at one of our preparatory pack meetings: Jack?

  Jack:

  He was helping some kid make a first-aid kit.

  Me: Jack?

  Jack: What, Paloney?

  Me: Can I talk to you?

  Jack: Does it look like you can talk to me?

  Me:

  I didn’t really get what that meant.

  Jack: Talk to me later.

  That was the first attempt.

  The Klondike Derby is like this: You have to sleep in a snow cave and you have to make the cave yourself.

  Dad took me to the Camping Outfitters to get a hiking snow shovel that’s small and you can fold up, some better boots, a down coat, a bivvy sack for my sleeping bag, a pair of good gloves and mittens to go on top, a little stove and gas just in case, and a bunch of hand and feet warmers.

  We were going one night.

  Dad said: I can’t tell you how exhilarating this trip is going to be for you. There’s nothing like the winter night air. Or the vigorous physical labor of building your own shelter or the warmth that comes from inside your own creation. It’s pure bliss.

  Me: Uh-huh.

  Dad: Did Jack take you all out and show you different methods of building your cave? Because there are
lots of ways to do it.

  Me: He’s going to next time.

  Dad: I sure wish I could go. I really do, Logan. It would be a great adventure.

  Me: Yeah.

  Jack had invited Dad and I had prayed he would say yes but he couldn’t. He had a business trip that very weekend and he couldn’t change it.

  No way.

  So no Dad.

  Just me, Jack, Bruce, Toby, and three other guys.

  At least Luke wasn’t going.

  He didn’t get good enough grades. Good excuse.

  The day before the Derby, Jack came over to pick up my stuff.

  He was loading his truck early so we could get up there with daylight.

  It was, I guess, a really long drive.

  Dad: Jack, this is really just great.

  Jack:

  Dad: I’m so glad Logan is getting this chance.

  Jack: Yeah, Tom. It’s going to be great for all the boys.

  There was definite irritation in his voice and I didn’t want him to say anything to Dad but I knew he might.

  I mean, he said he wouldn’t but he might.

  I was just sitting on the stairs watching my dad take things out. He gave Jack some extra stuff in case people forgot their pad or a shovel or whatever.

  Dad: Is there anything I can do? I’m so disappointed I can’t go.

  Jack looked at him and then he looked at me. Then he took Dad by the arm and they went outside.

  Crapstock.

  I went down into my room.

  It wasn’t my fault.

  I didn’t know what to do.

  I don’t think it was my fault.

  Was it?

  I feel so bad about Cami and I was so sorry too.

  I wonder if she still hates flies or what she does.

  Sometimes I still want to call her and tell her so much stuff but especially that I didn’t mean to not do anything and that I’m sorry too.

  When Bruce found that weight-loss shake in my bag that was pretty much my fault.

  I mean, I’d left my bag open in science sort of and we were doing a lab and it was the first and only time I’d taken one to school.

  Usually I just drink them down in my room and Mom thinks Dad’s drinking them, but I heard Dad say he thinks they taste like chalk, but I had lost three pounds so I decided to have one for lunch and so I put it in my bag under my books and forgot about it.

  In science we were dissecting squid.

  Mrs. Bernam: Everyone get with your lab partners. And one of you retrieve a tray from the back cupboards.

  I was with this kid Eddie and he doesn’t talk or do anything so I just went to get the tray.

  That’s when I guess Bruce took it.

  I got back and I didn’t notice anything but Eddie was sort of giving me a look — like nodding at something.

  He was nodding at them.

  Taking sips.

  Bruce: Oh, oh, this is so good. I love these shakes. They make my body lean and smooth.

  Umm.

  Toby: Maybe with these shakes I can lose my fat ass and I can get girls to touch me.

  Yeesssss.

  People were laughing and Mrs. Bernam was out of it helping someone unwrap their squid. Teachers are useless.

  Bruce: Oh, I’m sorry, Logan. Did you need this today? Does your fat ass need it? Because we thought you’ve been looking so right lately that we’d like a try.

  Me:

  Bruce: It seems he doesn’t mind if we drink up this refreshing treat.

  He passed the drink around.

  By then Mrs. Bernam was scanning the room.

  Bruce and his boys were busy pulling on gloves and pulling on squid tentacles.

  Eddie was quiet and I was crapstock.

  It didn’t really matter.

  I saw Laurel in the hall.

  It was between sixth and seventh.

  She handed me the empty weight-loss can and handed me another note.

  Later that day Laurel said something to me and it was this: Good job with your stunt.

  It was at play rehearsal.

  I think it was the second time we had ever sort of talked.

  She said it because at one point all the Lost Boys have to wrestle with the pirates.

  And me and this one kid, who is the pirate I fight, we do this fake tackle that we made up and we even practice it on the side when we don’t have anything to do or when we’re not in the scenes or anything.

  So when we did it in front for the first time I guess it looked really cool and really real. Even Ms. March thought so and she might have us be right in the front for the whole fighting scene because we made it up ourselves.

  The pirate’s name is Melvin and he’s a ninth grader and he thinks he can get a scholarship to Duke through his fencing.

  He’s cool to talk to.

  And Laurel said: Good job with your stunt.

  I said: Thanks.

  She said:

  I said: Umm.

  And I didn’t know if I should say anything about the can.

  I said: Thanks for the can.

  She said: I know.

  And that was it.

  I am in the front for the fight scene for sure now and I’ve lost two more pounds.

  Mom knows about the shakes but she said it’s okay and she’ll get me more.

  At school Bruce said: You got any more shakes in there? It was really, really good.

  Girls like Carmen and Vanessa and Mallory laughed.

  Me:

  Bruce: Come on, Logan. Let us have another one. We loved it.

  One of the girls: Please, Logan.

  Another one: Pretty please?

  Me:

  Bruce: In fact, if you give us one of your drinks, I’m sure Mallory will make out with you, won’t you, Mal?

  One of the girls with the blond hair: Shut up, Bruce.

  Bruce: Just say you’ll make him happy, Mal.

  Mallory: Shut up.

  Bruce: What’s your problem?

  Another of the girls: Leave Mal alone.

  Me:

  And then I walked away because it was almost like they forgot I was there.

  I was glad.

  I drank my shake in the bathroom.

  Dad bought an elliptical machine.

  He got it at Gart Sports because he went there with Mom and came back with the minivan all loaded up.

  They honked and when we came out Dad was opening the back hatch and Mom was sort of jumping up and down.

  She said: I’m so excited. Look what your father bought.

  And Dad looked sort of mad.

  Mack: Wow, cool. It’s an elliptical.

  Ryan: Those things are expensive.

  Mack: Are you still going to get the new basketball standard?

  Dad didn’t answer. He was trying to get it out of the back and we were all staring.

  Mom: Go help your father, boys. Oh, it’s going to be so great.

  We put it in the family room. In the corner so if you used it you could watch TV.

  Dad used it twice.

  I use it sometimes.

  After everyone is asleep, because it’s hard to get the rhythm right and I look stupid.

  But it’s pretty good.

  Yesterday I went outside when Mack and Ryan were shooting and I sat on the grass.

  Ryan: Want to play?

  Me: That’s okay.

  Mack: Come on, barf bag. Let’s play horse. We haven’t played forever.

  And it was true, we hadn’t.

  So I said okay and then I played.

  I also told them about palindromes and this one: Butt raft fart tub.

  They couldn’t believe it and it was so funny and we were laughing so hard.

  Dr. Benson asks me a lot of questions.

  Mostly about Zyler now.

  Dr. Benson: Well, have you tried to contact him?

  Me: No.

  Dr. Benson: Why not?

  Me: I don’t know. I don’t think I can.
<
br />   Dr. Benson: I don’t see why you couldn’t.

  Me: I don’t even know where they put him.

  Dr. Benson: Well, I’m sure we could find out.

  Me: I don’t know.

  Dr. Benson: You don’t know what?

  Me: I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go around looking for him.

  Dr. Benson: I don’t understand what you mean.

  Me:

  Dr. Benson:

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: Do you want to talk about it?

  Me: I don’t know.

  Dr. Benson: Okay. Okay, let’s see. So you haven’t contacted him. You don’t know where he is and you don’t know if you want to contact him.

  Me: My parents are always asking me this but I don’t know. I mean, I want to contact him or whatever but I don’t know if it’d be a good idea.

  Dr. Benson: A good idea because he might get in trouble or something?

  Me: Would he?

  Dr. Benson: I seriously doubt it.

  Me: Oh.

  Dr. Benson: Or maybe you’re scared to talk to him.

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: Is that it?

  Me:

  Dr. Benson: Logan?

  Me: No. I’m not scared. I don’t feel like talking about this.

  Dr. Benson: Okay.

  I didn’t get it.

  Sometimes Laurel is kind of weird.

  When we were putting the leaves on the branches for the Lost Boys tree, Laurel whispered to me: Did you get it?

  Me:

  Laurel: Well?

  Me: I don’t know.

  Laurel: Is it true?

  Me: What?

  Laurel: You know.

  I kept nailing things in and tried to think. I didn’t know what she was talking about all the way.

  Laurel: Heeeeeyyyyy.

  And she poked me.

  I shook my head.

  People were looking at us.

  She said: Meet me by D wing, by the bushes, after we’re done.

  Me:

  I met Laurel out there.

  At D wing.

  We stopped working on the tree when Mr. Jeffries said: Okay, that’s it for today. Good job, you guys.

  And then I got my backpack and when I looked up Laurel was gone.

  I thought maybe she forgot about D wing because she left so fast, so I was just going to call my mom for a ride.

  But then I thought I’d just see.

  I went down B wing and outside into the quad.