Booked (13 page)

She passes

out gloves

to the girls,

so they

don't have to

touch

our clammy hands, you guess.

You zoom down the line, and

when you get to April,

in her blue mini-dress,

you decide

to finally

wear cool:

Uh, April, I was wondering, if you, uh,

wanted to go to the eighth grade formal

with me?

Hey, Mom, I'm good, though I'm a

little sick of Cheetos and

grape soda. April says hi.

Hey, Nick,

did you know that

outside of a dog,

a book is a man's best friend, and

inside of a dog,

it's too dark to read?
he says, laughing.

C'mon, you know that was funny.

It was corny, Mr. Mac.

Before you leave, grab your flash drive

out of lost and found.

Oh, snap! Been looking for that.

It's got my outline on it.

You left it in the computer.

Dang, I sure did.

So, no soccer practice today? What's up?

Yep, I'm on the way there now, but

I wanted to give you this.

What's this?

A birthday gift.

For me? How'd you know it was my birthday?

Google.

You stalking me, Nick Hall!

You were a pretty good rapper, Mr. Mac.

Pretty good? I was dope.

You're a cool librarian. There's a surprise in the book.

Oh snap, you did another black out joint!

Yeah! Plus, I read the whole freakin' book.

How was it?

It was sad, and crazy funny, and really good, and I think you'll really like it.

Kid, you're the real deal. This means a lot.

How much?

A whole lot.

So much that you'll tell me what's inside your dragonfly box?

You want a look inside Freedom?

Huh?

My dragonfly box. I call it Freedom.

You name everything, your car, your box—

Wanna know what I call my bowling ball?

Uh, no thanks.

Fine, go ahead, open the box.

Seriously?

Go for it.

COOL!

Wait, it's locked.

Where's the key, Mr. Mac?

Ya gotta have the key

Ya gotta have the key

Ya gotta have the key if ya wanna be free.

The Mac repeats this a few times, then

takes the box back.

Real funny! Hey, Mr. Mac, why are you

so into dragonflies?

Because they're electric, Nick.

Like bolts of lightning,

they rocket into the day.

That's how I wanna live. You?

Yeah, uh, I guess.

Well then, carry on.

I've got some work to finish.

You've got a clerk to diminish?

You know a jerk that's Finnish?

You're officially the malaprop king, Nick,
he says.

Thanks again for the gift.

No problemo.

April comes over

to wish you luck

before your first game back.

Score one for me,
she says.

You don't.

You score

Two.

Nicky, didn't hear from you

this weekend. How was the game?

Your texts are funny. Miss ya!

Hey, Mom, I'm good. Can't talk, as

I'm in school, failing gravely.

Who cares about grades? We won!

but her slideshow tribute to

Ms. Hardwick is pretty swell

and it sends us all to sob town.

Hey, Nick, we can take you home.

No thanks, we're good, April.

Get in here, fellas, looks like it's about to rain.

Uh, okay,
Coby says, climbing into the back seat.

Dad, this is Nick, remember?

Oh, yeah, I remember, from the phone, right?
He shoots you a look through the rearview mirror.

And this is his best friend, Coby.

Cool ride, Mr. Farrow.

Don't get used to it, son.

No sir.

I understand you play soccer?

Yes sir, we do, you say.

Who's better?

I am, sir,
Coby says, all polite.

Nicholas, how is school?

It's fine, sir.

Y'all stop calling me sir. Officer is fine!

DAAAADDDDD, stop!

April tells me you're a wordsmith or something. You a wordsmith, Nicholas?

Uh, I guess . . . Officer.

Are you or aren't you, son?

DAAAADDDDD, why are you interrogating him? Leave him alone.

I know a lot of words, if that's what you're asking.

He sure does,
April brags.
Nick, tell him about that word
limerence
.

Yeah, Nicholas, tell me about that word
limerence,
the one that my daughter has written on every notebook, plastered all over her door, and which she now wants to tattoo on the back of her neck. Tell. Me. About. That. Word.

DAAAAAAAAD, STOP IT!

This is so cool, Officer,
Coby blurts out.

Uh, why is the siren on?

My dad's just trying to scare you.

Well, it worked.

You coming to Charlene's pool party?

I don't know.

Well, I think you should.

Okay, maybe.

Try again, Nicky.

Yeah, I guess.

Better. Text me later.

Okay. Thanks for the ride.

I can't kiss you on the cheek, 'cause my dad is look—

GOODBYE, NICHOLAS,
her dad screams from the car, then turns on the siren. Again.

Geesh, I gotta go, Nicky.

Uh, uh . . . Bye. Thanks.

maybe you take

a break from

my dictionary, son.

The irony

of this

is colossal.

You laugh long

and loud like

a Guinea baboon

being tickled.

And so does he

when you say:

Well that's just perfect, Dad, 'cause

I finished it

last night.

Really? Well, that's great.

We should celebrate.

You hungry?

Very.

I'll make dinner.

How about NO, Dad.

Let's go out.

Great. I got

the perfect place.

No white tablecloths, Dad.

I was thinking

a sports restaurant.

Unlimited Hot Wings

and Soccer.

YEAH!

Your dad

is always full

of words

to hurl at you,

but tonight,

for once,

he's wordbound.
^*

So are you.

. . .

. . .

These wings are good.

Yeah.

. . .

. . .

Dad, can I ask you a question?

Of course.

Did you ever get into a fight at school?

Fights? No.

. . .

Not at . 
.
 . school.

. . .

There was this kid at church named Skinny who picked on me.

Really?

He sat behind me in Sunday school and would slap me on the neck. We'd be at the fountain, and he'd spit water on me. One time when it was raining, he even tripped me and I busted my lip. It was Easter and I was wearing a brand-new white suit.

Oh, snap! What did you do?

I ran to my mom, bleeding and crying.

Oh.

But my dad came over and dragged me to the bathroom.

What'd he do, fuss at you?

No, he cleaned me up, and asked me a question.

What?

What would you do if you weren't afraid?

That's what he asked you?

Yep, and I told him, Maybe fight him.

What'd he say?

“Bullies don't like to fight, son. They like to win. Being afraid is normal. The only fight you really have to win is the one against the fear.”

What does that even mean?

And then he said, “You got this” and walked out.

What'd you do?

I cried some more, then went back outside, where all the kids were, and walked right up to Skinny, and said, “Hey, Skinny, I'm sick of your yobbery.
^*
” And then I put up my dukes.

You, uh, put up your
dukes,
Dad?

Yeah, l was ready to fight, Nick! I dodged and weaved like Muhammad Ali. He looked a little confused, maybe even a little afraid. I charged him like a bull, knocked him to the ground.

That's so cool, Dad. What happened next?

He got up and punched me in the eye. I had a black eye for two weeks.

Dang! Sorry, Dad.

Don't be. Your granddad was right. Skinny stopped messing with me after that. I mean, he used to make jokes about me, but even that stopped after a while.

That really happen, Dad?

Sure did.

Should we get some more wings, Dad?

Should we knit some floor swings?

It's gotta make sense, Dad.

Should we quit before Spring?

Well done, Dad.

Good, now let's order more wings.

Dad's at a conference. I'm

home alone. It's house party

time! YEAH! Holla! Giddy-up!

He's just gone for the day. I'm fine, you tell her.

After she finishes worrying, you ask her

how to make Dutch pancakes,

but it sounds too complicated,

so you stick to

instant oatmeal.

After breakfast

and a quick game

of FIFA online

with Coby,

you shower,

grab your gear,

and head out

for the match

when you hear

Morning, Nick!

Standing outside

leaning against

a light blue convertible car

is The Mac.

Hey, Mr. Mac. What's up?

You forgot this. Again,
he says, handing

you your flash drive

with Hardwick's almost finished

persuasive essay on it.

Thanks. You rock, Mr. Mac!

Maybe you need to wear it

around your neck.

That's your new car?

Blue Moon River.

Huh?

It's a 1972 Ford Mercury Brougham Montego drop-top.

Pretty zazzy!
^*

Interesting name for a car, though.

Nicholas, there's only a hundred or so of these left.