Better Than Weird Page 11

  He stared. Karima was wearing a hair band. It was gold with a black stripe. Iron pyrite, he thought. It looks just like iron pyrite.

  “Aaron? Did you hear me?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Ulanni wants to talk to you.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, but his mind was on the hair band.

  “He’s at the door, Aaron. He’s waiting for you.” She reached for his hand. He pulled away.

  “Aaron. The principal is waiting,” she said again.

  He stretched his neck and looked out from under the table. When he saw Mr. Ulanni in the doorway, he crawled out and walked over to him.

  “You need to come with me,” Mr. Ulanni said. He turned to Mr. Collins. “Perhaps you could come too. I’ll ask Mrs. Evans to cover your class for a few minutes.”

  So the three of them, Mr. Ulanni, Mr. Collins and Aaron, walked side by side along the hall, down the stairs and toward the school office.

  Aaron glanced at the adults, one on each side of him. Neither one of them spoke. This is bad, Aaron thought. Bad. Bad. Bad. Death march. Firing squad. Doomed to die.

  He’d been called to the principal’s office before, but he’d never been picked up by the principal himself or marched down by two grown-ups.

  In the office, Mr. Ulanni pointed him to a chair inside his private room. “Sit down, Aaron,” he said. “We’ll be right with you.” Then he closed the door but stayed outside talking to Mr. Collins.

  Aaron strained to hear. They had to be talking about him. What were they saying? Had he done something wrong? He tried to remember. He’d been in the principal’s office often enough to know that the chairs were too high and too wide for him. He knew if his back lined up with the back of the chair, his feet would stick up and make him look like a little kid. So he anchored his feet to the floor and perched on the front edge.

  When the door opened, Mr. Ulanni came in and sat down behind his desk. “I have a message for you,” he said.

  A sort of sick feeling washed over Aaron. “It’s Gran, isn’t it? Is she…is she…?”

  Mr. Ulanni’s eyebrows made a knot over his nose as he peered at a piece of paper. “According to Sophie, your gran is fine. Do you know Sophie?”

  “Of course I know Sophie. She came with my dad. She was the surprise. And she came with a surprise. It’s a baby. That’s her surprise. A baby. They’re just not sure what to call it. If it’s a boy, that is. If it’s a girl, they’re going to call it Fran, like my gran. My gran Fran. That rhymes, doesn’t it? Just like the poem we’re writing for the concert. It rhymes too.”

  “Aaron.” Mr. Ulanni leaned forward. “Aaron, look at me.”

  Aaron stopped talking. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and stared into the principal’s face.

  “Sophie told me part of your gran’s thyroid had to be removed, but she will be fine. Do you understand any of that?”

  Aaron nodded. “Yeah. It means she’s not going to die. She isn’t going to die, right?”

  “Right. But there seems to be a small problem with Sophie, which is why she called.”

  “Did she have the baby? Did they have to…? Did they do one of those Caesar sections?”

  “Aaron! No! Your dad’s still at the hospital with your grandmother. Sophie wanted to come and tell you Gran’s good news herself, but while she was on her way here, she slipped on the sidewalk.”

  “It’s very slippery out there,” Aaron said.

  “Yes. It certainly is. Anyway, a taxi took Sophie to the hospital to be checked out. She said it’s only a precaution. She said she was fine, but she was worried you won’t have anyplace to go at noon. She wanted us to find a neighbor’s or a friend’s house you can go to, until someone in your family comes home.”

  For what seemed a long time, Aaron sat. Then he said, “I can go home alone. I know how to cook. I can make tuna casserole. Sophie showed me.”

  “That’s great,” Mr. Ulanni said. “But Sophie specifically asked that we find someplace you could go.”

  “Oh. Okay. Where should I go?”

  Mr. Ulanni shifted in his chair. He looked relieved when his door opened and Mr. Collins came in.

  “I’ve just phoned Jeremy’s home, Aaron,” Mr. Collins explained. “And Milly said you should come home with him.”

  “Jeremy?”

  “You two are friends, right? Milly said she’d make your lunch, and dinner if you need it. Are you okay with that?”

  Aaron nodded. “I’m okay with that,” he said. But his shoulders sagged as he spoke, because he knew Jeremy wouldn’t be.

  TWENTY - FOUR

  At noon Aaron trailed behind Jeremy through the slush and sidewalk puddles. He noticed Jeremy kept his head down the whole way and didn’t say anything. Nothing. Not one word. He didn’t even look back. Aaron knew what that meant. Jeremy had said they were done, and he had meant it. They were done. They couldn’t be friends. Not anymore. Not since they were done.

  He felt a little better when Milly smiled and welcomed him in. She had lunch waiting for them. It was vegetable soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Jeremy spooned in the soup and wolfed down his sandwich. He hardly talked to Milly, and he didn’t talk to Aaron at all. When he was done, he excused himself from the table and went into the living room to watch television. Milly frowned as she watched him go, but she stayed in the kitchen with Aaron.

  He was staring at the soup in his bowl. Vegetable soup. He hated vegetable soup. It was because of all the lumps. They were different shapes and sizes and colors. He didn’t like soup when he couldn’t see what was inside. And now all these mystery bits were floating around like bumper cars. He poked his spoon at something green. It disappeared into the orange broth.

  “I see vegetable soup is not your thing,” Milly said. “Leave it if you don’t like it. I’ll pour you a glass of milk.”

  Aaron looked up gratefully, then started on his sandwich. Between bites, he answered Milly’s questions about Gran, about his dad and Sophie, about school and other stuff. When he was finished, she collected the dishes. “Why don’t you see if you can talk to Jeremy,” she said. “He seems to be having an off day.”

  In the living room Jeremy lay sprawled across a large chair. He was frowning. Aaron remembered Karen warning him not to annoy somebody who was frowning. He remembered Jeremy telling him to be quiet unless he had something smart to say. He knew there was all kinds of stuff he shouldn’t do, but he had no idea what he should do. He leaned against the doorjamb and watched tv from there.

  What he saw made him frown. In the movie Jeremy was watching, a mammoth and a saber-toothed tiger were walking side by side. “That’s not possible,” he said, forgetting that he meant to stay silent. “Saber-toothed tigers and mammoths were enemies.”

  Jeremy said nothing.

  A new animal appeared. The new animal had a mouthful of teeth. It was clumsy and silly and it talked—a lot. It made the saber-toothed tiger and the mammoth roll their eyes. Karen had told him what that meant, but the new animal didn’t know any better, and it kept talking.

  “They think he’s a pest,” Aaron said, “’cause he talks all the time.”

  “You think?” Jeremy said.

  “Yeah. And maybe they don’t want him around, ’cause he doesn’t know how to shut the heck up. Maybe…” Aaron stopped. On the tv, the annoying animal was still talking. Like me, he thought. He’s like me.

  “Are they gonna tell him to get lost?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “’Cause he does everything wrong and he never shuts up. Will they stop being his friend?”

  “Nah. They make up in the end. It’s a movie.”

  “Not like in real life, huh? In real life they’d say ‘We’re done,’ and they wouldn’t be friends anymore.”

  Aaron’s words brought a flush to Jeremy’s face. “For crying out loud!” Jeremy said. “You’re really bugging me! Not only do you have to come home with me, but now you won’t shut up and leave me alone. Don’t y
ou ever stop? You’re a real pain! Why can’t you sit down and be quiet!”

  Surprised by Jeremy’s words, Aaron plopped to the floor. It was as if a hole opened under his feet and he fell in. He was standing one second, sitting the next. If Jeremy wanted him to sit, he’d sit. He’d be quiet. He’d do whatever it took to make Jeremy change his mind and be his friend again.

  When he looked up, Jeremy was staring at him, eyes wide. One side of his mouth began to twitch. That turned into a smile, and to Aaron’s surprise, Jeremy burst out laughing.

  “What? What’s so funny?”

  “You are.” Jeremy sighed. “You made me remember the day my dad and I went fishing.”

  “Fishing?” Aaron didn’t get it.

  “We were on the river in this old rowboat, and I got a bite and stood up to reel it in. I wobbled, sort of like you did when you were on the chair beside the fish tank. That made the boat tilt. My dad stood up and grabbed for me, but I dropped straight down just like you did, so he was the one who lost his balance and fell overboard.”

  “Was he mad?”

  “That’s just it. I thought he would be, ’cause I sure felt like a loser for doing something so stupid.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said, ‘If everything goes smoothly all the time, we’ll never have good stories to tell.’”

  Aaron frowned. “I don’t get it.”

  “You and the fish tank…I just realized I’ll be able to tell that story the same way my dad told about falling into the river.”

  “So from now on, you won’t get mad when I do something wrong?”

  “I will so! Don’t be doing stuff on purpose.”

  For a little while Aaron said nothing. Then: “Your dad, he was a really smart guy.”

  “Yeah…” Jeremy took a breath. Then he said, “You’re lucky. Your dad came back.”

  “I know.”

  “Is he nice?”

  “Yeah. But maybe he thinks I’m a little weird.”

  “Well, you are,” Jeremy said.

  “I know.”

  They walked back to school together.

  TWENTY - FIVE

  Mr. Collins turned off the video camera. “That’s a wrap,” he said.

  “Finally!” Aaron sighed. Mr. Collins had made them rehearse their poem in a different place every day. Once he had Aaron say the poem while he climbed up and down the hallway stairs. Tufan got to sit at the bottom to play his drum, so he didn’t mind, but it was exhausting for Aaron.

  Other times he had Aaron repeat the poem while he ran laps or bounced a ball. Tufan would have been happy to do any of those things, but they were hard for Aaron. Still, he got to the point where he could say the words no matter what else he was doing.

  That’s when Mr. Collins explained about adding pauses and using his voice to make the words more interesting. And today he had set up a video camera.

  “You’re still talking too fast,” Tufan said as they replayed the film.

  “Yeah,” Aaron said, “and sometimes I forget to stand still.”

  “Sometimes?” Tufan snickered.

  “Not to worry,” Mr. Collins cut in. “I have an idea that may help.”

  There was a knock on the door.

  They all turned. “Who the heck is that?” Tufan mumbled, but Aaron hurried across the room. “Hey, Dad!” he said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your gran’s been asking for you. I told her I’d come by and pick you up.” He turned to Mr. Collins, who had followed Aaron to the door. “Is that all right?”

  “Of course.” The teacher put out his hand. “Dave Collins,” he said.

  “Liam Waite,” Aaron’s dad said. They shook. Aaron beamed.

  “See you on Thursday,” Mr. Collins said as they were leaving.

  Aaron’s father paused. “Thursday?”

  “The concert,” Aaron explained. “I’m going to be in it this year. For you. And Sophie. Sophie can come too.”

  “Thursday,” his dad said again. “Well, that’s great. We’ll be here.”

  * * *

  As it was, they didn’t go to see Gran right away, and by the time they got to the hospital, Aaron was exploding with news.

  “Guess what!” he said as they walked into her room. “Yesterday when Dad was out, he was shopping for a computer and a printer and a webcam. And today we bought it. Tonight we’re gonna set it all up. And I know how to use everything. I do. I learned how at school. Except the webcam. I don’t know how to use that. But Dad’s gonna show me. When you come home, I can show you.”

  He saw Gran smile at his dad. “So that’s what kept you so long,” she said. “I was afraid…”

  “Yeah. I know. But I told you. That’s never gonna happen again. I’ve got too much to lose.”

  Aaron didn’t understand what they were talking about. He was going to ask, but Gran turned to him and said, “It may surprise you to know that after thirty-two years in an office, I know how to use a computer.” Her voice sounded different. Kind of rough and papery.

  He pointed at the bandage around her throat. “Does it hurt?” he asked instead.

  “Hardly at all,” she rasped. “I can come home the day after tomorrow.” She turned to his dad. “Liam? What about Sophie? How is she?”

  “She’s fine. The doctor checked her out. He said pregnant women don’t balance all that well, but they’re not as fragile as they look. She’s back at the house, lying down, but she’s fine.”

  “Does that mean…?” Lines folded across Gran’s brow.

  “It means that everything can go on as planned.”

  “What’s planned?” Aaron asked.

  “We’ll go out for dinner, just you and me,” his dad said. “We’ll have a man-to-man talk and I’ll fill you in.”

  Gran’s brow wrinkled again. “Maybe you should wait until I get home.”

  “No!” Aaron said. “I’m ready for a man-to-man. I am.”

  After that he was eager to leave. His dad was going to fill him in. They would talk. Man-to-man. But when he turned to wave goodbye and saw Gran’s face twitch into a smile, he wavered, part of him yearning to stay with her, the other part eager to go with his dad.

  * * *

  They were seated opposite each other at the pizza place Aaron had chosen for dinner. Now that they were here, he wasn’t all that hungry. It was a little noisy. There were three boys about Paul’s age at the corner table, talking and laughing.

  “I’m famished,” his father said, biting into a large slice overflowing with pepperoni and vegetables.

  Aaron stared at his slice. He only liked cheese on his pizza. All this other stuff—he grimaced and picked off a slice of tomato, some olives and onions. His father didn’t seem to notice, and he finished his first piece before Aaron even took a bite.

  “I hope you know that Sophie really likes you,” his dad said between bites of his second slice. “I was so relieved. I wasn’t sure what would happen if she didn’t. Or if you didn’t like her. I was pretty sure you’d like her. She’s amazing, isn’t she? You do like her, don’t you?”

  “Sophie’s cool!” Aaron said. He was doing his best to pay attention. He wanted to get this man-to-man talk right.

  His dad wiped a serviette into the corners of his mouth. “It’s such a relief that your gran’s going to be all right,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how things would go if she wasn’t. Now we won’t have to worry when we go back to Dawson.”

  In the kitchen, a man pulled a fresh pizza from the oven. One of the boys at the corner table smacked his palm on the table. “No way!” he said. The other boys laughed.

  Aaron blinked. He replayed his father’s words. When we go back to Dawson. Is that what he said? When we go back to Dawson.

  “Dawson?” Aaron said.

  “After next week. Your gran will be able to manage by then. Milly has offered to come by and help out with the groceries and laundry if she needs it. I think we’ve got everything covered. She’s a pretty feis
ty lady, your gran.”

  Aaron pulled an anchovy from his pizza. Dawson? “You mean, Gran’s not going?” he asked.

  “To Dawson? Of course not. She lives here.”

  “But…you came home.”

  “Because I was worried. That word cancer gives me the shivers.”

  Aaron’s brow wrinkled. This man-to-man talk was confusing.

  “You came for Gran?”

  “Well, and you too, of course.”

  Me too. He came for me. We’re going home to Dawson? Gran’s not?

  His dad took another bite. Chewed. Drank some water. “I haven’t seen you since…well…not for a long time,” he said. “And I felt pretty bad about leaving like that. You get that, don’t you?”

  Aaron nodded. He thought he understood. Then one of the boys in the corner shouted, “You lie! That’s not it at all!” The other boys laughed, and Aaron realized he didn’t understand anything. He peered at his father.

  “Everything is working out,” his dad was saying. “Sophie got to meet you. And, like I said, it’s great that she likes you.” He took a big drink of water, wiped his mouth, looked at his watch. “Eat up, Aaron,” he said. “We still have a lot to do.”

  Aaron nibbled at the crust of his pizza. He chewed, swallowed and took a drink from his own water before he had the courage to ask, “And you? Do you like me?”

  “Hey! You’re my kid. Of course I like you.”

  “’Cause I’m your kid?” Aaron paused. “I’m not…” The words he wanted to say were sticking in his throat. He tried again. “You said I’m not what you expected.”

  “Oh. You heard that.”

  Aaron nodded. “I know I’m weird. Even Jeremy says I’m weird, and he’s my friend.”

  “Hey! You’re not that…” His father stopped. His hands had been folding his serviette into a small square. Now he opened it, smoothed it, then scrunched it into his fist before he let it drop to the table.

  Aaron looked at the mashed serviette. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m not.”

  There was more laughter from the boys at the corner table.

  * * *

  That evening Aaron didn’t know what to do with himself. His dad was busy setting up the computer in the little alcove in the upstairs hallway. “Step aside,” he told Aaron as he bent to plug cords into the hard drive and the printer.