Crazy (6 page)

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Oh, is he really? He's falling asleep in all his classes because of those suffocating nightmares he keeps having that scare the bejeezus out of him and keep him awake the rest of the night.

CRAZY GLUE
:
He wets the bed every time he has one of those dreams. That's what keeps him up—doing the laundry.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Whatever. He's not sleeping, he's not getting all his homework done, and now he's gone and told Mr. O'Hagan in front of the entire class that an isosceles triangle is a private matter between his Greek cousin, Isosceles, and his wife and mistress.

LAUGH TRACK
:
Ha, ha.

Crazy Glue pushed me! I never should have said that. O'Hagan looked like he wanted to kill me.

CRAZY GLUE
:
It got a laugh, didn't it? The boy did it. He got a laugh!

SEXY LADY
:
Funny men are hot.

If I weren't so tired and cranky these days, I wouldn't have said it. And what was that mathematical equation O'Hagan was doing on the board? Something about falling bodies? Falling bodies? I totally slept through that.

Now I'm pushing through the cafeteria line, hurrying to get my food because Shelby has called an emergency meeting. It's Wednesday. Dr. Gomez is at another school on Wednesdays, but Shelby says she lets us meet in her office if we want to. I have half a mind not to show up.

AUNT BEE
:
Shelby, Pete, and Haze are the closest thing to friends you have, Jason. Don't blow it. Just try to say something in there besides "I agree with you on that." Smile, at least.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Jason's pissed because the paper came out today and he wants to stay in the cafeteria to hear what kids have to say about his Mouse column.

AUNT BEE
:
Just go on, Jason.

I hustle down the long corridor toward Dr. Gomez's office. When I get there, I find I'm the last one to arrive. Pete and Haze are reading the school paper over Shelby's shoulders. Pete's in his usual white T-shirt
and jeans, only the shirt has a large purple peace sign on it, and Haze is wearing a sombrero and a striped poncho that looks a hundred years old and like it's never been washed. I've discovered he loves costumes. Shelby's dressed all in green and looks like a pixie with boobs. All three look up when I enter.

"I was just saying I don't think it's Pete," Shelby says when she sees me.

I step inside. "Huh?" I lower myself onto a pillow, trying not to spill my tray of food. I've missed having dinner three nights in a row 'cause of dealing with Dad, and I'm starving.

"Mouse," Shelby says. "I no longer think Pete's Mouse. If he were Mouse, he would have told Mortified Guy to join this group. He would have told him to talk to his dad."

"Why? What's it say? I haven't picked up the paper yet."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Very clever, Mouse. And you look so innocent, too.

Haze laughs. "Oh man, you've got to hear this. It's so screwball." He notices his jeans are sliding off his butt and uses the wall to support his back while he pulls his pants up and tightens his belt.

"It's not screwball," Pete says. "It's just different."

"Guys, just let me read it, okay?" Shelby adjusts the paper, holding it higher and out from her face more. Then she squiggles her butt on the pillow the way she does when she's about to make an announcement or say something important about herself. She begins:

"
Dear Mouse:

I was coming back from somewhere (I won't say where or you'd maybe guess who I am), and I got home early. I headed upstairs to my room—I'm real quiet, not on purpose or anything, but our house is carpeted, so you can't hear anybody walking around—and when I pass my parents' room, I see my dad through the opening in the door. He's got women's clothes on. I don't know what to think. He doesn't know I saw him. Now I can't look him in the face. He disgusts me. I hate him. I don't want to live in the same house with him anymore.

Mortified Guy.
"

Shelby stops and looks over the paper at me.

"Oh wow," I say. I feel myself starting to blush, so I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

"Yeah, and here's what Mouse wrote," Shelby continues.

"
Dear Mort:

I don't know why you're writing to me. I'm nobody. I'm just Mouse, but since you did write, Ill answer. Yeah, so that's messed up! I know I should probably tell you to talk to your dad about what you saw. If you want to do the right thing, I guess that's what you should do, but if some
one told me to do that, I'd probably tell them to blow it out their—. If he was ready to talk about it, he'd come to you, right? But you do have to live in the same house. It's probably good if you could talk to him, you know, like at least say, "Pass the butter," that kind of thing, without wanting to strangle him for not being the guy you thought he was. Do you hate him because he dresses in women's clothes, or do you hate him just in a general sort of way because he stands for everything that you don't, or do you hate him because maybe you're afraid this could be you in another twenty years? Have you always hated him? Did you ever get along? When you were a little kid, did you love him? If you did, whatever reason you loved him is still there inside you and inside him. So I don't know. I'd just remember that. I'd just hold on to that memory if you can.

Mouse.
"

Shelby slaps the paper on her lap and Pete and Haze both startle. "What kind of stupid answer is that? Telling Mortified Guy his father's messed up!" She looks around at all of us. "He should talk to his father, no maybes about it. Mortified saw him, so the father doesn't get a choice about when he should 'come out.' It's not when the dad's ready to talk; it's 'Talk to me now, because I saw you. I saw you wearing Mom's clothes!'"

"Whoa!" Haze says. "Take it down a notch, would ya? You're way too intense."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Yeah she is.

Pete shrugs. "Sometimes there are no easy answers. I think that's what Mouse was trying to say."

"Aha! It
is
you! I knew it!" Shelby says, turning toward Pete and shoving him with both hands.

Pete falls sideways, laughing. Then he sits back up and his round face gets serious. He rubs his hand back and forth over his bald head. "It's not me. I'd tell you if it was."

"Promise?" Shelby kicks off her clogs and wiggles her bare toes.

Pete holds up his right hand. "Promise."

"Hey, why doesn't anyone ever think Mouse is me?" Haze asks. He nods at me. "Or Pope-a-Dope."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Look real innocent now, Mouse.

"Get serious," Shelby says. Then she stops smiling, brushes a wavy mass of hair out of her face, and wiggles her butt on the pillow again.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Gotta love that wiggle.

"So, anyway, speaking of no easy answers, I wanted to talk to you all about something, and I couldn't wait because it's bugging me and I can't sleep. Also, I wasn't sure I could say what I wanted to say in front of Gomez."

LAUGH TRACK
:
Uh-oh!

I set down the dry hamburger I had been gnawing on and struggle to my feet. "Look, I know I'm not really a part of you three. I shouldn't be here if you're
going to say private stuff. Dr. Gomez isn't here, so ... I think I'm gonna just..." I turn my head toward the door.

Before I can say anything more, Shelby jumps to her feet and blurts, "I'm really, really sorry. I know I come on too strong. I know I've got strong opinions and I scare people off, but I want you to stay. You're a part of us now. And I need all the friends and support I can get. So even if you don't say much—just stay." Shelby's eyes look glassy and her mouth is turned down like she's about to cry.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Way to go, goob.

AUNT BEE
:
Bless my soul, she said you're one of them. You've got friends, Jason. It's been so long.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
Calm down, calm down—let's not all get too excited.

CRAZY GLUE
:
There goes that hummingbird heart of his again.

Pete gets onto his knees and sits back on his heels. "Jason, come on—sit back down. Socks just has a big mouth sometimes." He shrugs. "But it's cool. We accept people for who they are in here. That's the rule, and we all say what we think, you know? It goes both ways. You can tell us what you think, too."

CRAZY GLUE
:
Socks? Her nickname's Socks?

"Yeah, I guess so," I say.

Pete continues. "It can get kind of intense in this room, but it all stays in here."

Haze takes off his sombrero and pitches it onto
Dr. Gomez's desk. "Yeah, what's said in here stays in here. What's said in here stays in here," he repeats, laughing at himself as if he invented the phrase.

"So come on, both of you—sit," Pete says. "Peace." He sits back on his pillow and crosses his legs.

I glance at the peace sign on his T-shirt.

AUNT BEE
:
Sit, Jason.

"Okay, maybe," I say. I sit back down.

FBG WITH A MUSTACHE
:
See, that wasn't so hard.

Shelby sits, too.

"So what's this about, man?" Haze says.

Shelby tosses a chunk of cheese in her mouth. "Just wait a second. I'm not—I can't bring myself to say it yet." She doesn't look at any of us and her face beneath all her millions of freckles burns red.

SEXY LADY
:
She looks miserable. Look at her eyes. They're so bloodshot. She's not so attractive now, huh?

CRAZY GLUE
: Yes,
she is.

I stuff a bunch of cold french fries in my mouth and wish I had remembered to grab some ketchup packets.

"What do you mean, you're not ready? You just said..." Haze begins, but Pete puts his hand on Haze's arm to stop him.

"Is it about your mother?" Pete asks.

Shelby nods. "What else?" She bites down on her lower lip.

Haze, Pete, and I exchange glances. Then Pete says, "Center of the room. Come on, everybody."

Pete scoots on his butt toward the center, and then Shelby and Haze do the same thing.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Okay, now we're in for it. Touchy-feely New Age mood ring stuff, just great.

I don't move. I don't know what to do.

Pete nods at me and says, "Jason, kill the lights, will ya?"

"Yeah, thanks, Pete," Shelby says.

I jump up.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Yes! Something easy to do. Go ahead, goob.

I flip the switch on the wall and the room becomes pitch black. I had forgotten that we have no windows in the room.

"Perfect," says Pete.

And Haze says, "Ah, darkness. I do my best business in the dark."

"Eew, gross," Shelby says, and Haze laughs.

I crawl on my hands and knees till I reach the circle and sit down between Shelby and Pete. We all sit cross-legged, knees touching. Then Pete leans forward and puts his arms around Haze's and my shoulders. The rest of us do the same so that we sit in a huddle with our heads almost touching, closing off the top of the circle.

CRAZY GLUE
:
Very touchy-feely! Do we like this?

SEXY LADY
:
I know I do.

We sit there for a couple of minutes, quiet, in the dark, with our arms around one another's shoulders,
breathing in one another's lunch breath. It all smells mostly like smoked cheese.

Then Shelby sighs. "Okay, I guess I'm ready now." Her voice sounds shaky as she begins.

"My mom, she's really hurting, you know? I mean her brain is all there. She's as with it as ever, but her body is just wasted and her insides are like, well, I don't know. She's having trouble breathing now. She's got all this mucus she chokes on, and she can barely speak because her tongue doesn't have much muscle tone, and she can't hold her head up at all. The only thing she can move, really, is one finger on her right hand, and the doctors say—" Shelby sniffs and takes her hand off my shoulder to wipe her nose and sniff again. "The doctors say she's probably going to suffocate. That's how she'll die. And every night, she's choking, and the nurse has to come in and clear out her lungs, and when the nurse has a night off, since my dad's not usually there, I do it, and my mother, she doesn't want to live like this anymore. She—she doesn't want to live. She doesn't want the nurse or me to clear her lungs—and"—Shelby sighs again, only more deeply, and pauses to wipe her nose—"and, sometimes—sometimes I think maybe she'd be better off—you know—dead."

"Whoa!" Haze says.

Shelby sniffs. "I know, right? It's terrible, what I'm thinking. But I can't help it. Sometimes when I hear
her choking in the next room, I—oh jeez, I think about just leaving her there, just plugging my ears and leaving her there till it's all over." She raises her voice a little. "But—but it's only for an instant. Just a flash of a thought, and then I shake it out and run into her room, and I'm so glad she's still alive. I still need her. But that thought, that terrible thought is there. I hate it. I hate myself when I think it. I just hate myself."

Shelby's voice is so close. We're all so close, we can hear one another breathing and feel one another's pulse through our arms placed across one another's backs. My own breathing is faint, shallow. I don't want to breathe at all. I want to just listen. It feels as if we're so far away from the rest of the world, caught up in the hush and darkness of this room.

Pete whispers, "Sometimes I've wished my dad were dead, too. Our lives would be so much better, and easier, you know? But then I'm sorry. I'm always sorry when I think that. He's an asshole, but I love him."

"Yeah, my parents can both be royal assholes, but you know, you love them anyway," Haze says. "So like, what's that all about?"

AUNT BEE
:
All the months your mother was in a coma, you never thought that. You begged and begged God to let her live.