Dunk (15 page)

I hurried away, the doctor's words echoing in my mind. Brain, lungs, kidneys . . .

I called Mom from a phone in the lobby, then left the hospital. Normally, I'd take the long way home, swinging over to Atlantic Avenue so I wouldn't have to go near Abbot Drive. Right now I didn't care. I went through the heart of the bad area, past overgrown yards guarded by growling dogs, ignoring the people who called out with offers to sell me whatever I wanted. What I wanted, you couldn't buy here. Or anywhere.

When I got home, I realized none of our friends knew about Jason. I called Corey and told him what had happened.

“You're kidding,” he said after a long silence.

“I wish I was.”

“He looked fine last time I saw him,” Corey said.

“I know. That's the scary part.”

“Yeah, it makes you think anyone could just drop dead right in front of you. When my grandma visits, I'm always afraid she'll die as soon as my folks leave the house. She takes these naps, and I keep checking to see if she's breathing.”

“You're warped,” I said. “You know that?”

“I'm sadly aware of my failings,” Corey said. “Is there anything we can do for him?”

“I don't know. I wish there was. Look, I'll call you if there's news,” I told him. “I'm going to see Ellie.” I hung up the phone and headed out the door.

I found Ellie in the lifeguard chair near the boathouse. In front of us the waves, still stirred up from last night's storm, crashed against the beach, churning the sand into a muddy, frothy mix. There was hardly anyone around. Even so, Ellie never stopped scanning the water while we talked, checking on the few people who'd waded past their ankles in the surf.

“That's awful,” she said when I'd given her the details. “How can we help?”

I shrugged. The question had been on my mind ever since Corey'd asked it. “I don't know. Visit, I guess. I could buy him some magazines.” None of that sounded like it would make much difference. I really didn't have a clue. I'd never had a friend in the hospital before.

“We have to do
something
,” Ellie said. She glanced at her watch. “I'll go visit him as soon as my shift is over.”

“Great. He'll appreciate that. I'm going to find Mike.” I headed up to the boardwalk.

I passed the Cat-a-Pult. It was too early for Gwen to be working. I looked at the bench by the railing and flinched as I remembered how I'd been slammed to the ground and dragged off, screaming and struggling like a lunatic. I wondered whether anyone in the crowd recognized me. There were people out there who were going to know I looked familiar. They'd stare and dig for the memory that matched the face.
Wasn't that the kid the cops dragged off? Stay away from him. He's probably stoned
. At least most of them were only here for a week. They'd be gone soon enough. I wished they could take the memory away with them. Take it from me so I wouldn't have to live with it.

I found Mike running the BB game—the one where you try to shoot out a red star from the middle of a paper target. It was an honest game-—just really hard. Mike wasn't busy. And even with a crowd, it was an easy game to run since all you had to do was take the money and load the guns. The BBs were already in a tube. You just popped the cap and poured the ammo into the rifle. After that, the only hard part was arguing with the players who mistakenly thought they'd won. You had to shoot out every single bit of the red star. If even one tiny piece was left, you lost. People have a hard time seeing those little bits of red when they're the difference between a win and a loss.

“That sucks,” Mike said when I'd told him. “You think he'll be there long?”

“I hope not. But he didn't look like he was going anywhere for a while. The doctors haven't even figured out what's wrong yet.”

“Let me know if I can do anything,” Mike said.

“Sure.”

“Hey, I won!” a guy shouted, pointing to the target in front of him. Even from where I stood I could see he'd missed a ton of red. I waved bye to Mike and left him to do his job.

I hunted for some errands to keep me busy. I worked for a couple hours, then headed back home. By the time I got there, it was starting to rain again. It wasn't as heavy as yesterday, but it had the feel of rain that was going to last for a while. At least through the rest of today. Maybe tomorrow, too.

I called the hospital and asked for Jason's room. His mom answered.

“He's asleep,” she told me.

As I was trying to think of something to say, she hung up.

I blew the rest of the afternoon watching television. Then I walked out to the Cat-a-Pult to see if Gwen was around. But there was just one girl at the booth. A lot of the games cut down their crews during bad weather.

The rain kept up through the evening and into the morning. There was still a light rain falling the next afternoon when I walked to the hospital, but the forecast called for the weather to clear sometime after midnight.

Jason's folks were sitting in two chairs pulled up next to the bed. I didn't want to be around them, but I needed to see Jason.

He looked the same. No better, no worse. He nodded when I came in, and managed to say, “Hi.”

“Hi.” I looked over at his mom and dad. “Okay if I stay for a little?”

His mom ignored me. His dad said, “Yeah, sure.”

“Did the doctors figure anything out?”

They didn't answer me.

“No drugs, right?”

No answer. But that was enough to tell me Jason's blood tests had come back clean. If anything had showed up, his parents would have been all over me. Even so, they still acted like everything was my fault. I guess they had to blame somebody. I just wished it wasn't me.

I talked with Jason for a while. Mostly I talked and he listened. There wasn't a lot to talk about. The tournament was less than two weeks away, but I didn't want to mention it. What if he wasn't out of the hospital by then? That would be awful. He'd been waiting all year for it. I knew what that felt like.

So I just talked without really saying much of anything. I noticed Jason's dad kept looking out the window. After a while he said. “There's no way I can do it.”

I kept talking to Jason, but I also listened while his dad talked to his mom.

“I've got three roofs I'm supposed to finish this week,” he said. “The rain's put me way behind. We won't even be able to get started until tomorrow.”

“It'll be all right,” Jason's mom said. “You've always managed.”

“I'd be fine if I could hire a couple extra guys. But there's no way I can find skilled men by tomorrow. With the storm and all, everyone's already got jobs lined up.” He walked back over to the window and leaned against the sill.

I knew Jason's dad didn't want anything to do with me, and he'd probably shoot me down the moment I opened my mouth, but I had to give it a try. I turned away from Jason and said, “I can help.”

J
ASON'S DAD LOOKED AT ME BUT DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING
.

“I'm free tomorrow. I can help out with the roofing jobs.”

“Haven't you helped enough?” Jason's mom asked.

I could see there was no point in talking with them. I turned back to Jason. Maybe I could get him to convince them I hadn't done anything.

“Ever nailed shingles?” his dad asked. He moved away from the window and walked toward me.

“Sure. You and Jason showed me how last August. Remember when you were doing the house next door to yours? So you want me to help?”

“I don't think so.” He shook his head. “It's nice of you to offer, but it's still not going to be enough to get the jobs done on time.”

“I could call a couple friends,” I said. “I'm sure Mike can get a day off, and I know Corey's around.”

At the mention of Corey, Jason let out a sound that might have been a laugh. I had to admit, the thought of Corey on a ladder was funny. The thought of Corey anywhere near tools was pretty funny, too. I looked at Jason and said, “Knowing him, he'll bring a parachute.”

Jason laughed weakly, then gave a single, quiet cough. Beneath the sickness, I could see a faint sign that the real Jason existed. Weak but still there. He closed his eyes again.

“What do you have to lose?” I asked Jason's dad.

“Everything, if one of you kids gets hurt,” he said.

“We'll be fine. Give us a chance. Between the three of us, we can probably do enough to free up one of your guys for the skilled work. Maybe even two. Right?”

He sighed, then nodded. “Okay, Chad. We'll try it. Thanks. I'll pick you up at five. The job I can put you on is way out toward Philly.”

Five? Oh, lord. I'd forgotten what time roofers started work. “Great. Perfect. I'll be ready. You won't be sorry.”

I asked if I could use the phone, then called Mike. He was more than happy to help out. Corey was less happy, but I talked him into it after reminding him how Jason had saved him from getting beaten up at a dance last year. And at two different football games. And a couple times after school. And once in the cafeteria. I promised Corey he wouldn't have more than one foot off the ground at any time.

Since it was just for a day, and since it was a favor for a friend's dad, I figured Mom wouldn't have any problem with me doing the roofing work. She made some worried sounds when I mentioned it that evening, but she gave in pretty easily.

Jason's dad picked me up at five the next morning. He had an old junker van he used to take his crews to jobs. No seats except for the driver. I climbed in the back and sat on the floor. There were already four guys there. They nodded in my direction, then ignored me. We swung by Mike's place. Corey was there with him. So was Ellie, who had a tool belt buckled on over her work pants.

“I took the day off, Mr. Lahasca,” she told Jason's dad.

“Great. Glad to have you,” he said. He opened the back door of the van. “You're really saving my hide.”

“Mike called me,” Ellie explained as she came around. She stared at the roofers, who were staring at her. “Something wrong?” she asked.

A couple of the men snickered. “We ain't baking cakes,” one of them said.

Ellie sighed and reached into the van. She grabbed a scrap piece of two-by-four and tossed it to the curb. “Neither am I,” she said as she pulled a hammer from its loop and plucked a handful of nails from a pocket of the belt. She dropped to one knee. Then, with a single awesome whack, she drove a nail all the way into the wood. All the way. I knew I couldn't come close to doing that.

She knocked in two more nails just as easily, then looked around and said, “May I join you? Pretty please?”

“Only if you promise to put that hammer away.” I slid over and made room for her. “Where'd you learn to do that?”

She grinned. “You pick up all kinds of things when you're raised in a house full of brothers.”

Mike, Corey, and Ellie got in, and the van drove off.

We got started before six thirty. I think roofers enjoy waking people up. They didn't even ring the bell to warn anyone. They just slapped a couple ladders against the gutter, climbed up, and started clomping around in their work boots, ripping off the old shingles. From the way they smiled at each other, I could tell they enjoyed being human alarm clocks.

Before long I discovered how brutal roofing can be. It made working at the Bozo tank seem like a vacation. The sun came out with a vengeance. Thanks to the light soaking into the black tarpaper, the temperature felt like it was 700 degrees. Of course, there wasn't any shade on the roof. I'd have traded my left arm for a chance to plunge into a tank of water.

By quitting time, I felt I'd been run through a meat grinder. Or maybe a deep fryer. We didn't even knock off until it got too dark to see. But we finished the job.

“Well,” I said to Mike as we rode back, “I know another thing I don't want to do for a living.”

Mike opened his mouth to answer me, but all that came out was a moan.

“I'd rather wrestle sharks,” Ellie said.

“It wasn't that bad,” Corey said. That was true, at least for him. He'd been on the ground the whole day. The only time he'd raised a sweat was when he had to dodge whatever we tossed down at him.

“Not bad at all,” he added.

I bent over and grabbed Ellie's hammer. “I got enough strength for one more swing,” I said.

“Okay, okay—it was bad for you guys,” Corey said.

I put down the hammer and leaned back.

“Thanks, Chad,” Jason's dad said when he pulled up at the house to drop me off. “You and your friends made a big difference.” He dug for his wallet, but I wouldn't take any money.

“Glad I could help.”

He nodded. “I'm glad you could, too.” Close up, I could see he was exhausted.

“Look. Jason's going to be okay,” I said. “I know it.”

He gave me a tired smile and drove off. I went inside and collapsed on the couch. I figured I'd rest up a bit, then see if I could find Gwen. Now that the weather was nice, she had to be back at the Cat-a-Pult.

The next thing I knew, it was morning. I opened my eyes to a room filled with daylight. Mom was gone. I checked the clock. It was after ten.

I couldn't believe I'd blown my chance to go to the boardwalk. I got up, then fell back to the couch as my body reminded me I'd spent a whole day working on a roof. I tried again, more slowly, and managed to make my way the short distance to the fridge. I was starving.

After I ate, I walked to the hospital. By now I figured the doctors would know what was wrong with Jason. But when I got there it was pretty obvious nothing had changed. He still looked awful.

His dad was out at work. But his mom was there. I waited by the door, expecting her to tell me to get lost. She glanced up, then looked away without saying anything, which I figured was about as close to an invitation as I was going to get. Maybe my time on the roof had been enough to move her from hating me to merely disliking me.