And Don't Bring Jeremy (6 page)

“Who’s Tommy?”

Jeremy was hurt. “Don’t you remember? Tommy Stein. He’s that little kid I met the first time you went over to Danny’s house.”

“I didn’t know you still see him.”

“Sure. Whenever I ride my bike I stop over there. He’s usually reading outside his house. And now he waits for me, to see if I’ll come.”

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to hurt Jeremy’s feelings, but who wanted to go and play with some little kid?

Jeremy tugged at my arm. “Come on and meet him. He’s a nice kid.”

I started to shake my arm loose and tell Jeremy to stop acting crazy, but I saw his face. He was all excited. He looked the way he did when he worked in his vegetable garden.

“All right. Let’s go and see Tommy,” I agreed. “I sure don’t have anything better to do.”

Tommy was sitting on his front steps reading comic books. He was skinny and small, small even for a kid in third grade, and his glasses kept sliding down his nose. As soon as he saw Jeremy he jumped up and ran toward him. I’d never seen anyone so happy to see my brother before.

“Hey, Jeremy,” he shouted, hopping up and down, “I just knew you’d come today. We can finish our game of ghosts in the castle.” Then he noticed me and began stammering. “Who—who’s this? How come—I mean, I didn’t know you brought someone with you.”

“This is my brother, Adam,” Jeremy said. He sounded proud of me. “He’s a pitcher on his Little League team.”

It was my turn to be embarrassed. “Yeah, well—hi, Tommy.”

Jeremy laughed. I’d never seen him so delighted. “I finally got you two together. My two brothers.”

Shyly, Tommy looked me up and down. “Does he like to play make-believe games, too?”

“He used to,” Jeremy explained. “But now he likes sports.”

“Not like us?” Tommy asked seriously.

“No, not like us.”

We stood there, not knowing what to do next. Finally I
said, “Why don’t you two go play your game? I’ll stay here and read these comic books.”

Jeremy looked at me questioningly. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“Naw,” I said, sorry I’d come with him in the first place. I couldn’t help thinking about the softball game going on this very minute.

Jeremy looked relieved. “We usually play in Tommy’s backyard. He has lots of trees and bushes to hide behind.”

I sure didn’t want to watch Jeremy making a fool out of himself, hiding behind bushes with this little kid. “I’ll stay right here on the front steps,” I said.

“Okay.” Jeremy took off in his funny run, Tommy right behind him. Two strange ducks, I thought, and one of them has to be my brother.

I read the two Archie comics quickly. Again I had nothing to do. I decided to walk around to the back and tell Jeremy I was leaving.

My brother was standing over Tommy, his arms outstretched. He spoke in deep, ominous tones: “I will throw you into my dungeon and tear you apart, limb by limb, if you do not tell me where the jewels are hidden.”

I almost burst out laughing. Thirteen years old and still acting like a clown.

Tommy was down on his knees. With his hands clasped together and his sad expression, he looked like he was about to cry. “Oh, please don’t hurt me, Morgan,” he whimpered. “I cannot tell you where the treasure is. It isn’t mine and—” He broke off when he realized I was standing there watching.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I just came to tell you I’m going home.”

“All right,” Jeremy said in his normal voice. “See you later.”

I rode home thinking about Jeremy and Tommy. Jeremy sure was weird, playing make-believe games with a little kid. But looking at it from his point of view, I couldn’t blame him. He had no friends his own age. He didn’t like sports or computers or board games. And there was little Tommy Stein, crazy about him. Even I could see that. Tommy actually looked up to my brother. He had to be the only person in the whole world who did.

Since I had nothing to do when I got home, I figured I’d tackle something Mom had been after me for weeks to take care of—cleaning out my junk. I started on my desk drawers, throwing out old pencils without erasers, last year’s baseball cards, and other things. The wastepaper basket was half full, and I was about to start on my bookcase when I heard a noise behind me. I spun around. Mom was standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” she said, smiling. “Whatever are you doing?”

“Cleaning out my room.”

“Finally.” She glanced at the junk I’d thrown out. Then, instead of being pleased like I thought she’d be, she frowned.

“Is everything all right, Adam? I mean, you don’t usually stay home on a sunny afternoon to clean your room. Why aren’t you outside playing ball?”

“I—I just didn’t feel like it.”

She looked at me closely. “Does it have anything to do with Eddie Gordon?” she asked. “Dad told me what happened during the game on Saturday.”

“I guess. A little.”

Mom made that funny sound through her nose that always meant she was exasperated. “I think you’re being
too sensitive. Kids always blame the next one when they’ve made a mistake.”

I just nodded. Mom didn’t know Eddie, how he could be nice one minute and nasty the next. “I’ll probably play ball tomorrow,” I said, just so she wouldn’t go on about it.

“Where’s Jeremy?” she asked.

“Out riding.”

“Do you know where he went? I hate when he just rides aimlessly around. I worry that he won’t watch out for cars.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “He’s safe where he is.” Too late. By trying to make Mom relax I got Jeremy into trouble.

“So he’s over at little Tommy Stein’s house again,” she said, sighing. “And he knows how we feel about it, too.”

“He’s a nice kid, Mom,” I said, trying to make up for squealing on Jeremy. “I met him today. He really likes Jeremy.”

Mom looked me straight in the eyes. “Don’t you think that your brother is too old to be playing with third graders?”

I blushed. My thoughts exactly. But I had to help Jeremy. “They like to play the same games.”

Mom bowed her head and put her hand on her forehead. “You don’t understand. With Jeremy’s difficulties, he needs someone who will teach him to behave appropriately. Not encourage him to act immaturely.”

“Tommy’s smart,” I said.

“Thank God for that,” she said, and left the room.

* * *

That night we were just finishing dinner when Mom dropped her bombshell. She turned to my brother and
said in her sweetest voice: “Jeremy dear, I really don’t want to have to forbid you, but you must know that your father and I are not at all happy about your playing with that little boy. What’s his name? Tommy?”

Jeremy turned on me, glowering. “Thanks a lot, pal.”

“But I didn’t—” I began.

“Don’t blame Adam,” Mom said calmly. “We discussed this very subject last week. Don’t you remember? And you said that you would stop going there.”

Jeremy’s face turned red. “I know, but I like to go.”

“Helen,” Dad broke in. “Must we discuss this at the dinner table? I’d like to finish one meal in peace.”

“You know very well that this is important,” Mom snapped at Dad. “And it always falls into my lap, so I handle it when I can. It’s as simple as that.”

Jeremy turned to Dad. “Well, why can’t I play with Tommy? He’s nice and his mother likes me, too. She gives us a snack whenever I visit and tells me to come again.”

Dad wiped his mouth and pushed his plate away. “You know that we’d be happier if you played with boys your own age.”

“I’m sorry, Jeremy,” Mom said, “but it’s for your own good. You are not allowed to go over there anymore.”

Jeremy banged his dishes into the sink and trudged up to his room. He slammed his door hard behind him. Dad sighed.

“I don’t know, Helen,” he said. “Sometimes I wonder if we’re doing the right thing, always getting on his back.”

Dad stood up and Mom smiled up at him. “Of course we are, Leonard. If we keep prodding him to be like the other kids, soon it should pay off.”

Dad shook his head. “I think you’re being overly optimistic. Dr. Rausch told us that we had to be realistic about what we could expect him to do.”

“Oh, Rausch. That was at least two years ago. Things change.”

Dad sighed but said nothing. We could hear the sounds of “A Hard Day’s Night” coming from Jeremy’s room. He’d turned the volume of his stereo all the way up like he always did when Mom got him mad. Dad went up to talk to him and I went down to the den to watch TV. Dad was being too kind when he said Mom was being overly optimistic about Jeremy. He was never going to be like other kids his own age. Not in a million years.

CHAPTER
6

The next day in school, as our class was leaving the gym to return to our classroom, Danny was suddenly next to me. He wasn’t smiling as usual and his eyes kept going from side to side.

“Do you still want to help me with the sets?” he whispered.

“Of course!” I said, forgetting to keep my voice down. “Why do you ask?”

“I guess because you’ve been acting funny the past few days. I thought you were mad at me or something.”

“Are you kidding?” I stopped to stare at him and two boys walked right into me. Danny didn’t crack a smile. He was serious. All this time I was upset about Eddie and Danny thought…

“No talking in the halls.” Mrs. Hammel, our fussy old teacher, was glaring right at Danny and me. “Unless you both want to stay in for recess.”

As soon as she turned around, Danny and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes.

“We have to work tomorrow, and I mean really work,” he whispered. “Mrs. Casey wants the sets done as soon as possible. Maybe I’ll get Mark to help us.”

“I thought you couldn’t stay after because you’re spending the week at Mark’s house,” I said.

“My aunt won’t mind when I explain it to her.”

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll be there.”

For the first time that week I joined a softball game during recess. When the bell rang, Danny and I walked to our classroom together.

“Coming to play ball this afternoon?” he asked. “Try and make it, okay? Mark and I will be there.”

“I guess so,” I answered. I still didn’t know if I would, but I was getting tired of hanging around the house with nothing to do.

“Good,” Danny said, smiling. “We’ve missed you.”

* * *

By the time I got home I figured I might as well play ball that afternoon. It was obvious that Danny still liked me. Mark, too, probably. I’d just keep out of Eddie’s way. Then he’d have no reason to blame me for anything. I took some juice and cookies and started on my homework. No one ever got to the field before four o’clock.

Jeremy came home and went outside to water his vegetable garden. I watched him work, humming and smiling. I couldn’t see what he was so happy about—only a few leaves had sprouted—but he was acting like his vegetables were sure to win first prize at the county fair. It was hard for me to understand how a few dumb plants could turn him on like that.

I was just sitting at the kitchen table, watching and wondering, when the doorbell rang. I got up and opened the door. Eddie was standing there.

“Hi,” I said, too surprised to think of anything smart to say, like “What are you doing here?” or “Get out of here.”

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

“Sure.” Automatically I stepped back so he could come into the house.

We both walked into the kitchen and stood there for a minute without saying anything. I sat down and looked at him. His mouth was working as if he were talking, but the words couldn’t come out.

Just then Jeremy came dashing up the steps from the den. “They’re growing, Adam! All my plants are growing!” He stopped short when he saw Eddie. “Oh,” he gulped, embarrassed.

“Hi, Jeremy,” Eddie said.

Jeremy stared at him, then turned to me. “I’ll be in my room if you want me.” He left.

I felt like calling out to Jeremy and telling him to stay with me, but I knew that was ridiculous. Still, for some strange reason, I was glad he was around.

As soon as Eddie heard Jeremy close his bedroom door, he started talking, the words just pouring out of his mouth, one on top of the other.

“Look, I’m sorry I yelled at you that way on Saturday. It was real dumb, I know that. And I apologize for punching you like that. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, not knowing what to answer.

“My dad’s really mad at me. He said I couldn’t play in this week’s game if I didn’t apologize to you.”

So that was it! He was following his father’s orders.

Eddie must have seen the look of disappointment on my face because his words came faster than ever.

“But it’s not just because of him. I know I did a dumb thing and that I hurt your feelings. At this point I can’t even remember who made the error, you or me, not that it matters. But I want you to know that I’m really sorry I acted that way.” He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cards. “Here. This is for you.”