Fruit (27 page)

“Wh-Wh-When you were unconscious, d-d-d-do you think you d-d-died? D-d-did you see your body lying in the f-f-field?”

I hadn’t thought about that. It was true that I couldn’t really remember what happened between the time I passed out and when I woke up with ugly Mrs. Terribone yelling at me. But what if I
did
die? What if I
did
have a near-death experience? I mean, I had an image of my
body lying in the field, but that’s because I was nervous about what I must’ve looked like. Or so I thought.

“I think the answer to your question is a definite maybe,” I said. “The chances are pretty good that I did die for a couple of seconds. Maybe over time, more will come back to me. I’ll probably remember a tunnel and seeing my dead grandma, telling me to ‘Go back, Peter! Go back!’”

Jackie gasped. “Th-That’s really sp-sp-spooky. You m-m-must feel very lucky to have c-c-c-c-c-c-come back from the dead.”

Outside, I heard Craig Brown yell “Touchdown!”

“In some ways,” I said.

BEDTIME MOVIE #5

Mr. Nunzio asks me to stay after school. He says he needs help washing down the blackboards.

“Thank you for coming,” he says when I walk into the classroom. He’s wearing a white T-shirt and blue gym pants. I can see his dink poking out, but I pretend not to notice.

Mr. Nunzio hands me a cloth.

“I have to make a phone call,” he says to me. “Will you excuse me for a moment, Peter?”

I say sure and he leaves. Though he doesn’t tell me, I know he’s gone off to the staff room to call his wife. He tells her that he’s running late and not to stay up waiting for him.

“All you do is work!” Mrs. Nunzio yells into the
phone. She’s combing her straight hair. “I’m sick of it! I should have never married you!”

When Mr. Nunzio comes back into the classroom, I can see he’s upset. I put down the cloth.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Nunzio?” I ask him.

“Oh nothing, Peter,” he says, looking at the picture on his desk. But I can tell he wants to tell me. He needs someone to talk to. No one understands how hard he works. No one except for me.

“Hey,” I say quietly and sit down in the chair next to him, “it’s me you’re talking to.”

Mr. Nunzio smiles in a sad kind of way.

“You’re too mature for your age, Peter,” he says. “How did you get to be so wise?”

Mr. Nunzio says that he’s not getting along with his wife, that she’s angry with him and is going to leave him. I tell him not to worry. He’s better off without her.

“You need confidence, Mr. Nunzio,” I tell him. “Confidence in everything you do.”

“Call me Al,” Mr. Nunzio says. It feels weird, but it’s what he wants me to do.

“You’ll survive, Al,” I say. “You’re one of the tough guys.”

“And what about you, Peter? I know something about you, too.”

Then, dark terror spreads across my face. I can’t let him know anything about me. It’s too dangerous.

“I have to go,” I say and pick up my knapsack.

“No!” Mr. Nunzio says and grabs my arm tightly. I can see the muscles moving beneath his hairy arms. “I know
why you fainted the other day.”

“Al, please.” I must get away, away from him, away from everything. “Let me go.”

“Why are you doing this?” Mr. Nunzio asks. “Let me see them.”

“No,” I say. “I can’t.”

“If I take off my shirt, will you take off yours?”

I stop to think for a bit. “Maybe,” I say. “But no promises.”

Mr. Nunzio lets go of my arm and pulls off his white T-shirt. His chest is hairy and muscular and I see his nipples peeking through like two raisins.

“Now it’s your turn.”

I shake my head. “I’ve changed my mind,” I say.

“Don’t play games with me, people!” Mr. Nunzio yells. I see the look in his eyes — the look that speaks of his man-hunger. Terrified, I break free and run out into the hallway, screaming for help, but everyone has gone home. I try the doors, but they’re locked. Mr. Nunzio is close behind. I run into the staff room. It’s a bad move on my part. I’m cornered.

“Please don’t,” I plead, but he’s too fast. With one loud “
RIP
!” my T-shirt is torn in half. I’ve never been this naked in front of anyone before. The next thing I know, he’s unpeeling the elastic bandage from around my chest.

“Stop,” I say and this time I really mean it. But it’s too late. I’m spinning and spinning and I can’t slow down. “Stop,” I say again, but no one’s listening. And I know the trick to stop from getting dizzy and that’s to keep your eyes focused on one spot. So I’m looking at the basement
window each time and suddenly, I’m not wearing any bandages at all. Uncle Ed winks at me from behind the glass.

Then I fall asleep.

twelve

If I was going to get skinny in time for grade 9, I had to act fast. There was no time to lose. I knew enough about dieting from watching Nancy and Christine, so I just copied whatever they ate, which usually was salads, grapefruits, cottage cheese, melba toast, chicken broth, and sometimes, a piece of fish. It was awful at first because I was always hungry and grapefruit is terrible without any sugar on it. But every time my mother asked, “Are you sure that’s all you’re going to eat?” or “Anyone for a King Dong?” it only made me stronger. If Nancy and Christine could do it, so could I.

But exercising is something I’ll
never
get used to.

I knew I needed to do it, but it had been so long since I last exercised that I wasn’t sure how to start. I thought about taking walks in the evening, but that sounded boring. Besides, I already walk enough for my paper route. Then I thought jogging might be good, because it’s fashionable. I asked Christine if she had an extra headband I could borrow. She goes jogging three times a week.

“For what?” she asked.

“For when I go jogging,” I said.

“Are you serious?” She looked at me as if I’d just stepped off a space ship.

“Forget I asked,” I said. “I’ll buy my own.”

“Don’t do that,” Christine sighed. “I’ve probably got something you can have. But who are you going jogging with?”

“Myself.”

“You shouldn’t do that. At least not in the beginning. I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure I’m not going to
embarrass
you? Someone from Peoples might see us together.”

Christine bit her bottom lip and stared at me for a few seconds. “You don’t embarrass me,” she said. “So don’t think that. And be ready for seven sharp.”

When the time came, Christine came bouncing out of her room, wearing her “When God made man, she was only joking” T-shirt and a pair of black tights. Her hair was tied up in a bun and she was wearing lipstick and eye shadow. I was wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of rugby pants.

“You’ll die in that,” Christine said and tossed me a white headband.

“Isn’t your make-up going to run?” I asked.

“Look, don’t feel you have to compete with me. This isn’t a race. So just start off at your own pace and if you start feeling dizzy or not able to breathe, then stop.”

I knew Christine was just saying that because she was afraid that I’d pass her and take the lead.

“Thanks for the tip,” I said. “But I don’t think I’ll need it.”

Christine and I started by walking to the corner and then we picked up the pace. I was doing pretty good, but my stomach and boobs were jiggling. I swore the neigh-bours were watching me from their living room windows.

“Remember to keep breathing,” Christine said.

That was easy for Christine to say, considering she didn’t have masking tape wrapped around her chest. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my left side.

“My appendix burst,” I thought. “Someone, call a doctor!”

I told Christine to go on. “Something’s gone wrong,” I panted. “I need to sit down for a bit.”

Christine went ahead and I walked the rest of the way to our house, trying to catch my breath. My nipples were sore from all that shaking. Jogging was stupid, I thought. Just as I reached my front yard, I heard someone calling my name. I looked across the street and Daniela was standing in her garage with a broom in her hand. She yelled at me to come over.

“What do you want?” I panted. My lungs were burning.

“What the fuck were you just doing?” she asked, crinkling her nose.

“Jogging,” I said.

“Well, I’d suggest some deodorant.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “At least you’re killing all the fuckin’ flies.”

“Very funny,” I said and walked away.

The next day, I asked Nancy about her aerobics class. She
and Bubbles go twice a week.

“You can come if you want,” Nancy said. “It’s fun and the instructor is really nice.”

I was nervous about going because I was afraid that someone might see me. Or even worse, someone in the class might know me. But Nancy told me not to be such a spaz and that the class was all women so that made me feel a little better. On Tuesday night, after my dinner of plain tuna and a bowl of salad, Nancy told me to get ready. She was dressed in her latest Suzy Shier outfit — a pink tank top with matching pink shorts, pink leg warmers, and a pink headband.

“My lord,” my mom said when she saw Nancy. “Are you going to an exercise class or the senior prom?”

I was planning to wear the usual — black rugby pants with a sweatshirt — but once I saw Nancy, I felt retarded. If only I had a matching headband, too.

“No one will care what you look like,” Nancy told me. “Everyone wears jogging pants and T-shirts anyway.”

Then Bubbles showed up.

“Hey, that’s great you’re coming with us!” she said. She was wearing a blue tank top with matching blue shorts, blue leg warmers, and a blue headband.

“What are you two, twins?” Christine asked them.

“You never know!” Bubbles said and smacked her gum.

“Be careful!” my mom yelled as we were walking out. “Nancy, you keep a close eye on your brother. And Peter, if you start feeling pains in your chest or anything, you come right home.”

The aerobics class was held in the basement of St. Paul’s Church, so I felt better knowing where I was going. When we went down the stairs, there were eight women standing around, talking. All of them were thin. I felt very fat.

“C’mon,” Nancy said. “I want to introduce you to the instructor. She’s really nice.”

Nancy led me over to a purple butt. At least, that’s all I could see, since the woman was bent over at the waist.

“Tracy, I want to introduce you to my brother, Peter. He’s checking out the class tonight.”

The woman straightened up and turned around. I gasped. It was evil Mrs. Hanlan!

“Well, hello there, Peter,” Mrs. Hanlan said and smiled. “It’s nice to see you without that paper sack over your shoulder.”

“Yeah.” I could hardly talk.

“You two know each other?” Nancy asked.

“Your brother’s my paperboy,” Mrs. Hanlan said, “and a very good one at that. Dan says he’s never seen a kid so punctual.”

Did Mr. Hanlan really say that? I almost asked, but I knew better. I didn’t like the way she called him by his first name, like she knew him better than me or something.

“I didn’t know you were a teacher,” I said.

“Just a couple nights a week,” Mrs. Hanlan said. “It helps me stay in shape.”

“Tracy used to be fat, too,” Nancy said.

“You were?” I looked at her toothpick arms.

Mrs. Hanlan laughed. “During my teenage years, I was. C’mon, let’s get started.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “If you start feeling short of breath, Peter, just slow down. And don’t feel that you have to keep up with everyone. Just take it at your pace.”

I still couldn’t believe that skinny Mrs. Hanlan used to be fat.

“Okay, let’s get started everyone!” Mrs. Hanlan called out and put a tape in the ghetto blaster that was sitting on the floor.

Mrs. Hanlan had us march in place for a little bit to get warmed up. “That’s it!” she said, over a Loverboy song. “Now swing those arms!”

It was pretty easy and I wasn’t getting any pains in my side like when I went jogging. I was thinking that this wouldn’t be so bad, after all, even if it was Mrs. Hanlan standing in front of me. I made a point to keep my stomach sucked in so she wouldn’t notice and tell Mr. Hanlan about it.

“Now, jumping jacks!”

Everyone started jumping up and down and flapping their arms. I was starting to sweat a little bit by then, but not too badly. My nipples were bothering me, though. I didn’t tape all the way around my chest because I knew it’d be too hard to breathe. Instead, I went back to my old Scotch tape star trick. But the tape wasn’t holding very well and my nipples were burning. They started to hurt and I was getting frustrated.

“Now windmills!”

All the women started waving their hands in the air. I
was losing my rhythm and looked over at Nancy to see how she was doing. She was in perfect time with Mrs. Hanlan. Bubbles was, too. She was even smacking her gum to the beat.

“That’s it! Take it at your own pace,” Mrs. Hanlan called out.

She was looking right at me when she said that. I could tell she was trying to wear me out, but there was no way I was giving in.

“Now dosey-do!”

And then everything started getting very complicated and the class was skipping into the middle of the circle and skipping back out, like we were all at a square dance. I tried to do the same, but I ended up skipping into the circle when everyone was on their way out.