Double-Dare O’Toole (10 page)

Mrs. Timmons sighed and worried her pencil around in her hair as if she had an elusive itch and were trying to pin it down.

“I'll miss you, Fex,” she said. “You've been a great help. Stop by and visit now and then, will you?”

Fex promised he would. He went to Mr. Palinkas' office and stood at the door, waiting. Mr. Palinkas lifted his head and stared. Then he blinked. “What can I do for you?” he said.

“You said to stop by when I was through.” Fex began to stutter. “You—you said to …”

Mr. Palinkas' face cleared. “You're right.” He pushed the pile of papers in front of him to one side.

“So,” he said. “You've finished your sentence and you're getting out of the hoosegow, eh?”

“What?” Fex said stupidly.

“Hoosegow. Jail. Old-fashioned slang for jail.”

“Oh. Yeah. Well, I wanted to say good-bye.” Mr. Palinkas hadn't remembered after all. He wasn't really interested in Fex's thoughts. People always pretended to be interested when they weren't.

“Have you thought about what I said?” Mr. Palinkas asked suddenly. “I asked you to tell me what you thought about if you felt like it.”

Fex smiled back at him. “Yeah, I've thought some. A little.”

“Sit down,” Mr. Palinkas said. Fex sat boldly in a chair facing him. He folded his hands primly, like a lady riding a bus, looking out the window. He met Mr. Palinkas' eye.

“I think I'd like to change everything about myself,” he said. “Get a new skin, everything. I'd like to be a winner.”

Mr. Palinkas sighed. “Wouldn't we all?” he said.

“I wonder sometimes if I'm really an O'Toole or if maybe somebody stole me from the hospital and changed my name. I don't look like anyone else in my family and sometimes I don't feel like a member of my family,” Fex said in a rush. Now that he'd started, he couldn't seem to stop.

Mr. Palinkas nodded. “I remember that feeling,” he said.

“I think about being a hero. About being famous. And rich,” Fex continued. “If ever I was rich, I would do something for my parents. Like maybe buy them a house with a swimming pool. No,” he corrected himself, “my father wouldn't like a swimming pool. He says they're too much trouble. But I'd treat them to an ocean voyage. My mother is always talking about going on an ocean voyage. She says she'd sit in a deck chair and watch the ocean go by and eat caviar.”

Mr. Palinkas smiled. “That sounds good,” he said.

“Me and my older brother aren't friends,” Fex said. “We don't like each other much.”

“That happens,” Mr. Palinkas said. “More often than you think.”

“But Jerry and me—Jerry's my younger brother, he plays the violin, and we sleep in bunk beds. Jerry's my friend. I like him. Maybe I love him.” Fex stopped, astounded at himself, saying these private things aloud.

“My father gets very mad at me lots of times,” he went on. “He gets furious. He shouts at me when I do dumb things. When I do things kids double-dare me to. He says I behave like a fool.”

“And do you?”

“Sometimes.”

I talk too much, Fex thought. He wished he could take back some of the things he'd said.

Mr. Palinkas said, “You remind me of myself when I was your age.”

“I do?”

“Yes. It's somewhat reassuring to know that boys haven't changed as much as they'd have you believe they have.”

The telephone rang on Mr. Palinkas' desk. He picked it up. Fex nodded good-bye and left.

Tonight was Barney's party. Tonight was the big night.

19

This time Jerry watched Fex comb his hair in front of the mirror.

“What's happening?” he said.

“Nothing.” Fex went on combing. He would've used the bathroom but Pete was monopolizing it, as usual.

“You never comb your hair at night,” Jerry said accusingly.

“I'm going to a party.”

Jerry sat up. “With girls. A boy-girl party. If you comb your hair, it must be a boy-girl party.”

“Yeah,” Fex drawled, acting as if he went to one of those every day.

“Do you kiss girls when you go to those parties?” Jerry asked.

“How do I know? The last time I went to a boy-girl party I was only a little kid. All we did was eat and throw stuff around the dining room,” Fex said, pulling on his sweater.

“Did you ever kiss a girl, Fex?” Jerry asked.

Under his sweater Fex felt himself blush.

“No,” he said, coming up for air. “Why?”

“I just wondered when you were supposed to start, that's all.” Jerry rested his chin in his hands and stared down at Fex, his eyes bright, his face very curious. “I figure I've got lots of time but not you. Next year you're in junior high. That's when all that junk starts.”

“All what junk?” After-shave lotion or no after-shave lotion? Fex debated. He settled for slapping his cheeks vigorously, the way they did on TV commercials. That ought to do it.

“All that sexy junk. Junior high is when it starts,” Jerry said, very knowing.

“Who told you?”

“I just know. I listen a lot. Even if you don't feel like it, you have to do that stuff in junior high. Kiss girls, take off your clothes, all that.”

Fex's palms became clammy. “Listen,” he said, “I'm having a hard enough time already without you giving me advice. O.K.” He gave himself a final check in the mirror. “Ready or not, here I come.”

He pushed everything he'd left on the floor underneath his bunk. “Don't wait up for me, son,” he said. “I'll probably be late, very late.”

“Hey, Fex.” When he turned, Jerry was crouched on the edge of his bunk, hanging a moon down at him. His skinny little behind glowed pale in the light.

“You look like a honeydew melon,” Fex told him. “Two honeydew melons.”

“Don't do anything I wouldn't do!” Jerry crowed.

“Get outa here.” Fex reached up and pulled Jerry down to the floor. They wrestled there for a couple of minutes, laughing so hard Pete came out of the bathroom to see what was going on.

“What's the big joke?” he demanded.

Both boys lay on the floor looking up at their older brother. “Whoooeee!” they cried, holding their noses. “You smell!”

Pete snapped his wet towel at them, but his heart wasn't in it. He looked down at Jerry. “What's he doing flashing his bare butt around?” he asked crossly.

“Telling me the facts of life,” Fex said. He and Jerry rolled around a little while longer. Then Fex got up and pulled himself together. “I have to go,” he said. “The chicks are waiting.” Jerry jumped up, pulling on his pants. He did a little dance.

“You guys are a couple of nerds,” Pete said. “When I have the time, I might sit you down and give you the benefit of my experience. Let you have the straight scoop, about sex and …”

“And what?” Mr. O'Toole stood in the doorway.

“Oh, hi, Dad,” Pete said. “What's up?”

“I was just going to ask you that. From the noise up here, I thought the ceiling might be coming down.”

“It was them,” Pete said. “They were horsing around. I didn't do anything.”

Mr. O'Toole looked at Fex. “I thought you were going to Barney's party,” he said. “I was going to ask you what time I'm supposed to pick you up.”

“Pick me up?” Fex tugged at his clothes, brushed himself off.

“You look as if you'd been in a fight,” his father said. “If you're going to a party, better clean yourself up.” He turned and started down the stairs.

“Dad.” Fex went after him. “You don't have to pick me up. I can walk home.”

“What time is it over?”

“Oh, about ten, I guess,” Fex said airily.

“I'll settle for nine,” Mr. O'Toole said.

“Dad, I'm not a baby. I'm almost twelve.”

“Nine-thirty. You call me when it's over and I'll meet you on the corner so they won't know your old man came for you. How's that?” His father smiled at Fex.

“Thanks, Dad.” Fex went back to his room and combed his hair some more.

“I'm staying awake until you get home,” Jerry said. “Tell me all about it, O.K.?”

“If I live to tell the tale,” Fex said. “I just wonder if going to a party is worth all this trouble.”

“Probably not,” Jerry said, taking up his violin. Fex fled.

20

Barney lived up by the hospital in a pale brown apartment house at the top of the hill. Barney's mother was a nurse. Every Monday morning Barney told tales of the goings-on in the emergency room over the weekend. He said the weekend was when things really started hopping. Especially if there was a full moon. You wouldn't believe what went on there Saturday nights if there was a full moon, Barney said.

“Let me out on the corner, Dad,” Fex told his father. “I'll walk the rest of the way.”

He didn't want to be the last one at the party. It was almost seven. On the other hand, he also didn't want to be the first. He didn't know which was worse. After his father let him off, he dawdled, taking his time, walking slowly, keeping an eye on the entrance to the emergency room. He'd been there a couple of times himself. Once when he'd broken his collarbone, another time when they'd thought he might have appendicitis. It turned out to be only a bad stomachache.

It seemed to Fex as he rang Barney's bell that he could hear party sounds coming from above. He waited for Barney to buzz so he could open the door. The hall smelled damp and musty and of various kinds of food. Barney leaned over the stairwell, watching him come. His face looked very wide and flat from this angle. He didn't speak. Just suspended himself and watched without saying a word. Fex trudged up the stairs, head down, already sorry he'd come.

“You're the first,” Barney hissed as Fex reached his floor. Fex's heart sank.

“Hello!” a blond woman wearing a pale blue pants suit greeted him. “I'm Barney's mom.” She smiled without showing her teeth.

“I'm Fex O'Toole,” Fex said. He put out his hand. She shook it.

“Oh, Barn's told me all about you,” she said. She seemed glad to meet him. “I like to hear about Barn's friends.”

“How are you, Mrs. Barnes?” Fex said. He looked past her into the living room. It was empty.

Barney jabbed him in the ribs. “Her name's not Mrs. Barnes,” he said. A man came out of the bedroom. He, too, wore a pale blue pants suit.

“This is Dougie,” Barney said. “Meet Fex O'Toole, Dougie.” Dougie rattled when he walked, due to all the gold chains he wore around his neck. His hair was thin and so artfully arranged over his scalp that it looked like the tributaries of a river marked on a map. He also smiled without revealing his teeth. It was uncanny. They must practice smiling that way, Fex thought. He didn't think it would be easy.

“Hey,” Dougie said, “how's it going?” He and Barney's mother went into the kitchen. There was a sound of scuffling. “Dougie!” Barney's mother cried out. “Stop that! Not now!” Fex and Barney stood in the middle of the rug, looking at their feet. Probably the guy was blowing in her ear, Fex thought.

“That's the boyfriend,” Barney whispered unnecessarily. Fex had already figured that out. “The one that gets the Mopeds wholesale.”

“Oh,” Fex said. “Yeah.” The silence stretched out, into the corners of the room. Fex prayed for the bell downstairs to ring, for lots of kids to arrive. A wailing ambulance pulled up beneath the window. Barney raced to look out. Fex followed.

“This way I keep tabs on everything,” Barney said. They looked out and saw nothing but the ambulance, its lights flashing.

The bell finally rang. Barney buzzed in the guests. Fex stood quietly, not sure of what to do, where to go. Barney's mom and Dougie bustled back and forth, carrying bowls of potato chips, Fritos, pretzels.

“Pretty good feed, eh?” Dougie said, slapping Fex on the back. With a flourish he brought forth an ice bucket filled to the top with ice cubes.

“Nothing but the soft stuff for you kids, though,” he said, smiling his peculiar smile. “Be a couple of years before you try the hard stuff, right? You want to hold off on that for a long time. Not good to start too early, I say. Bad for the body. You want to take care of the body, the muscles. Take regular exercise. Now you take me. A hundred pushups at night, a hundred in the morning. Work out at the gym regular. Look at that.” In a flash he'd rolled up his pale blue sleeve to show Fex his muscles.

“All right,” Fex said as he watched Dougie's muscles ripple. The room began to fill up. Fex didn't see Audrey. He was afraid Dougie might not let him loose, might keep him there all night, showing off his muscles.

Maybe Audrey had decided not to come. He wouldn't be too surprised at that. Someone put on a record. Kids started to dance, throwing their arms up in the air as if they were trying to get rid of them. Miraculously, Dougie disappeared. Fex went over to where the soda was laid out and helped himself to a Coke. He filled up a glass with ice and poured in the Coke slowly. Then he leaned against the door and watched the dancers. Fex wasn't sure he liked parties. He liked the idea of them, but the actual party itself he wasn't too sure about.

“Hey, Fex!” Barney hollered. “Come on and dance!” He gyrated by with a girl Fex had never seen before. She was tall, with long brown hair. Her jeans fit her as if they'd been pasted on. She was older than he, fourteen, maybe fifteen. But still in good shape. She was beautiful.

Fex stared at her as she danced by, tossing her hair like a girl in a shampoo commercial. Then he saw Audrey talking to a couple of kids from school. She didn't look at him. I bet she knows I'm here, he thought. I just bet she does, and she won't even say hello.

Someone shoved him hard in the middle of his back. “Long time no see,” a voice said. Fex turned and looked up, way up, at Wesley. Wesley was the kid who'd double-dared him to ride his bike up on the parkway last year. Wesley had gone to private school this year. Wesley was a troublemaker.