Amos Gets Married (2 page)

Amos stood and took one last look at the house. He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them. No one was at the window. “It seemed real. I saw her dimples and everything.”

Amos threw his leg over his bike and tried to pedal. Only one pedal worked, the front tire flopped as it went around, and from the back, his bike looked like it was traveling sideways.

Dunc rode more slowly so Amos could keep up. “It’s funny how the mind can play tricks on you. I read a book once where this guy went without eating for two weeks, and he thought he saw George Washington crossing the Delaware.”

Amos frowned. “But it seemed so real! She looked right at me.”

“Optical illusions always seem real. People in the desert who are dying of thirst sometimes think they see water and actually start swimming in the sand.” Dunc looked back at him. “I wouldn’t worry about it. It happens all the time.”

“If you say so …”

A station wagon pulled up beside them and stopped at the stop sign. Melissa’s mother was driving her to school. Melissa looked out the passenger window. She saw Amos—and smiled.

Amos’s eyes popped wide open. He stared at the car instead of watching where he was going. He ran through the Swansons’ white picket fence and landed headfirst in their rose bushes.

When Dunc heard the crash, he turned around and rode back to his friend. “You definitely have a problem.”

“But she”—Amos sputtered—“you didn’t see. She … I saw her.…”

Dunc helped him up. “It’s okay, Amos. I’ll talk to your parents. We’ll get you some professional help.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home? You look a little pale.” Dunc helped Amos lock what was left of his bike to the bike rack.

Amos headed toward the school in a daze. “Melissa … car … smile …”

Dunc led him through the double doors and down the hall. “Here’s your class, Amos. Do you think you’ll be all right?”

Amos walked into his math class muttering, “Waved … me … love … Melissa.”

By lunchtime, Dunc thought Amos seemed a little better. He still wasn’t quite back to normal, but he was able to speak in semi-intelligent sentences.

Dunc pushed him through the cafeteria line. He took Amos’s elbow and led him to a table. When they were seated, Dunc reached into his book bag, took out a thick book, and plopped it on the table.

“Do you see this, Amos? This book is going to help us get to the root of your problem.” He watched Amos dip a piece of lettuce in his chocolate milk.

Dunc winced and took a deep breath. “This is a book on psychiatric abnormalities. Chapter fourteen describes you perfectly. It says when a person thinks about another person to the point of shutting out everything else, he may begin to imagine that he actually has a relationship with that person. Are you following me so far?”

Amos nodded and dipped another piece of lettuce. “Melissa loves me.”

“No, Amos. That’s what I’m talking about. She doesn’t love you. It says right here in the book—you imagined the whole thing, and you made your mind believe it was real.”

Amos squinted at the book and scratched his head. “I don’t think that’s the way it happened.”

“The book says there are several methods of treatment we can try. I personally think we should go with the electric shock therapy. That’s the one where we run electric currents through your brain over and over until you’re all better.”

Amos looked at him. “And you think
I’m
crazy?”

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t like that one.” Dunc ran his finger down the page. “How about ‘deprogramming’?”

“Does it have anything to do with electricity?”

“No. What you do on this one is tell yourself out loud over and over that what you think happened—didn’t happen.”

“But Dunc, I saw her …”

“You
thought
you saw her. But in reality you only saw what your mind wanted you to see.” Dunc patted the book. “It’s all right here on page three hundred and seven.”

Amos looked confused. “If you say so.”

“Let’s try it. Tell yourself it didn’t happen.”

“It didn’t happen. But Dunc—”

“No buts. If you want it to work, you have to keep saying it until you’ve put the
whole thing out of your mind, and then you’ll be cured.”

Amos started. “It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen.…”

Dunc kept a tally on the back of a napkin. “You’re doing great, Amos. You’re up to a hundred fifty-seven. Is it out of your system yet?”

“I don’t know.”

“We want to be sure. Keep going until the bell rings.”

“I feel a lot better.” Amos followed Dunc down the hall. “I should be fine now.”

“That’s good, because Melissa is in our next class—social studies. Now remember, if your mind starts playing tricks on you, just tell yourself it didn’t happen, and it will go away.”

The boys sat down in the back of the classroom just as the bell rang. Dunc took out his social studies homework. Amos checked his back pocket but couldn’t find his. It had worked its way out somewhere between gym class and the cafeteria.

Mrs. Wormwood was writing on the board when the door opened and Melissa
walked in. The teacher turned. “Young lady, you’re late.”

Melissa flashed one of her most angelic smiles. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Wormwood. I was doing an errand for the principal.”

Mrs. Wormwood patted her on the head. “I was sure an honor student like yourself wouldn’t be late without a good reason. Sit down, dear.”

Melissa moved to her desk. But before she sat down, she turned to Amos—and winked.

Amos dropped his head on his desk and closed his eyes. “It’s not real. It didn’t happen. It’s not real.…”

Mrs. Wormwood cleared her throat. “Now, class. Today we will begin working on a special project dealing with living skills. You will each choose a partner …”

Dunc looked over at Amos. Amos was hitting his head against his desk and mumbling under his breath.

“… of the opposite sex, who will be your pretend husband or wife for the next week. We will conduct a mock marriage ceremony. You and your partner will set up a budget for rent, groceries, bills, and other
expenses. Your grade will depend on how well you work together with your partner, how realistic your budget is, and, of course, how well it balances. Any questions?”

Herman Snodgrass wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and raised his hand.

“Yes, Herman?”

“Do we have to do it?”

Mrs. Wormwood gave him
the look.
“No, Herman. Not if you would rather flunk my class and have me for your teacher again next year.”

Herman slid down in his seat and stuck out his bottom lip. “No way.”

A group of girls in the front row giggled.

Mrs. Wormwood slapped her desk with a yardstick. “Order. I want order.” The yardstick broke and the whole class burst out laughing.

Dunc used the opportunity to whisper to Amos, “Are you okay?”

“It didn’t happen.… I only imagined it.… It never really happened.”

Mrs. Wormwood finally gained control of the class. “Since there are fewer girls than boys in our class, we will begin our project by letting the girls choose the partner they
would like to work with. When I call your name, please stand and tell me the name of the partner you have chosen.”

“Bertha Abercromby?”

Amos opened one eye and looked up at Tall Bertha. She stood beside her desk with her finger in her mouth and glanced around the room. For one awful moment her eyes rested on him, but then she looked away. He let out a deep sigh of relief.

Bertha grinned. She took her finger out of her mouth and pointed at the back of the room. “I choose him—Duncan Culpepper.”

Dunc’s shoulder’s drooped. He slumped down in his desk. His worst nightmare had come true. It wasn’t so bad that Bertha was almost two feet taller than he was and outweighed him by thirty pounds. That didn’t bother him nearly as much as the fact that Bertha was a mess. She was the most unorganized person Dunc knew—except for Amos, of course.

Amos listened with his fingers crossed as Mrs. Wormwood continued down the list. About half the boys had been chosen. Amos was still in the clear. Maybe by some miracle he wouldn’t be chosen.

The teacher finally reached the end of the list of girls. No one had picked him. Mrs. Wormwood started to close her book, when something caught her eye. “Oh dear, it seems I’ve overlooked someone.” She paused. “Melissa Hansen?”

Melissa slowly stood beside her desk. She looked from Donny Wilson to Jimmy Johnson. She batted her long lashes and smiled at the teacher.

“I choose … Amos—
the Hunk
—Binder.”

Dunc’s mouth fell open. He looked over at Amos. The desk was empty.

Amos had fallen into the aisle on the floor, out cold.

Amos was in Dunc’s room looking in the mirror above the dresser. First he studied his left profile and then his right. “I never really thought of myself as a hunk before.”

“Neither has anyone else in their right mind.” Dunc was at his desk working out a foolproof budget so that every penny would be accounted for in his report to Mrs. Wormwood. “There. I think I have our first month ready. The debit column is zero and all possible expenses have been met. I think we definitely have an A-plus paper here.”

Amos sprawled across Dunc’s bed. “Don’t you think you better ask your wife what she thinks about it? After all, it’s her grade too.”

“Ugh!” Dunc shuddered. “Don’t remind me. I’d like to forget all about that part of the assignment.”

Amos smiled dreamily. “I’m meeting my little cupcake at the mall later. We’re going to go pretend shopping. You should come with us. It would give you an idea of what kind of stuff girls like to spend money on.”

“I don’t care what kind of stuff girls spend money on. And another thing, Bertha Abercromby is not my wife—will never be my wife—in this or any other lifetime. If this thing were real, I’d already have filed for divorce.”

“Bertha told Melissa that she really likes you.”

Dunc made a face. “She doesn’t even turn in her homework.”

“So?” Amos said. “I lose my homework all the time and you still like me.”

“That’s different.”

Amos sat up. “Your problem is, you just don’t understand women.”

Dunc looked at him. “I think you’re losing it again. Since when have you become an expert on females?”

Amos shrugged. “I must be doing something right. Melissa picked me, didn’t she?”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

Amos held up his hand. “Don’t try to tell me my mind is playing tricks on me. This time I have witnesses.”

“No, I know she picked you all right. But the question is—why?”

Amos threw his chest out. “Because I’m a hunk.”

“Melissa Hansen never even knew you were alive until today. Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

“No. It was bound to happen sooner or later. She finally came to her senses and realized we’re meant for each other.”

“I have a theory about that. I think that bump on the head you gave her is causing her to act weird. You know, do things she wouldn’t normally do.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“I’m serious, Amos. Sometimes people who get hit on the head act strange for a while.”