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Authors: Daphne Greer

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BOOK: Maxed Out
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“I'll see what I can do.” Ian glances back at the guys on the ice. “Okay, I better go. See ya…” He zooms across the pond and steals the puck.

I smile to myself as I pretend I'm on the ice. Then I turn toward Duncan.

“Would you stop eating the snow. For all you know, a dog could have peed on it.”

Duncan puts his face closer to the snow. “Nope, no dog pee.” He eats another handful.

“I give up. Come on, let's go home.” With one last look back at the pond, I lead the way along the path. The sounds of the skates scratching the ice and the shouts from the guys repeat in my head long after we're out of earshot.

“I'm hungry,” Duncan says.

“You should have eaten more snow,” I say underneath my breath.

The smell of smoke from Mr. Cooper's fireplace means we're almost home. It signals food to Duncan and reminds me of the days when Mom was in the kitchen watching soaps on tv while she made us a snack.

All that changed when Dad died. Dads aren't supposed to die before their kids are grown up. But mine did.

Some days it feels like my mom did too.

As I open the door, Mouse gets up from his sunny spot in the kitchen. He stretches and walks over to us. He rubs up against Duncan's legs and then mine.

“Hi, Mouse,” Duncan says. He reaches down to pat him. Mouse purrs loudly. Duncan hangs his coat on his hook and places his boots so that the toes touch the wall. He then straightens all the shoes into a perfect straight line.

I dump my coat on the chair and throw my hat like a Frisbee. “Yes!” I say when it lands on the hook. Usually it takes me a couple of tries.

“I'm hungry,” Duncan says.

I'm staring into the fridge, trying to figure out how I can play hockey. I hear Duncan, but I'm too busy thinking to answer.

“I'm
hungry
!” Duncan wails.

The sound of something landing on the floor with a thud startles me. I slam the fridge door. Duncan is on his hands and knees like he is praying.

Sighing, I squat down beside him. “Do you really have to
do
that?”

He doesn't answer. He keeps talking about how his superpowers aren't working because he's so hungry.

“Duncan!” I say in a louder voice.

“Yeah?” he finally says.

“I'll get you something to eat,
okay
?”

“Okay.” Duncan sits up and looks at me with his big brown eyes. “I'm hungry,” he whimpers.

“I know you are.” I hold out my hand and help him stand up. “Let me guess. Macaroni and cheese?”

Duncan smiles.

“At least you're predictable.”

“I'm not predictable! I'm, I'm Batman. And, and, you're Robin,” he says in a low voice.

“Whatever you say.”

On Saturday morning the usual crowd is coming in and out of Bucky Dwayne's All-In-One Store. “Duncan, hurry up!” Three people slip through the door before he catches up to me.

Inside, I pull out the list Mom gave me before she crawled back into bed. I hate it when she works the night shift, because Duncan has to go everywhere with me so she can sleep. Saturday is the worst day to come to Bucky Dwayne's, especially with Duncan.

“Stop touching everything!” I yank him by the arm and pull him closer. “Let me look at the list for a minute, would ya?”

Duncan starts whispering into his hand. “Batman…Batman, you there?”

“Oh, don't start, please,” I say.

“I'm here, Robin,” he says in a deeper voice.

“Keep it down!” I hiss. I can feel people staring. “Here, you push the cart. Pretend it's the Batmobile.”

Duncan smiles, then speaks into his hand, “We're leaving the Batcave. Hold on.”

He makes a weird swishing noise to go along with the movement of the cart. I walk in front of him, trying to tune out his noises. Duncan follows me through the aisles, bumping into things every once in a while.

Just as we turn into the third aisle, he rams the cart into my heels. “Oww!” I yell. “Would you watch it!”

“You stopped.”

“Let me push the cart past this crazy lineup,” I say. I wonder what's going on. Then I notice the sign that reads,
Sidney Crosby will be signing
autographs today until noon
.

I think about joining the line. But when Duncan's whispers turn into a loud argument between Batman and the Joker, I know we can't do it. I shove the cart toward the lightbulb section.

“Hey, Max!”

I turn around. Ian is almost at the front of the line. “Can you believe it?” He pulls a puck from his pocket. “I'm going to get it signed.”

“Cool…”

“Have you talked to your mom about playing yet?”

“Not yet,” I say. “I keep waiting for the right moment, but it never seems to come.”

“Just ask her, would ya!” Ian jabs me in the arm. “Hey, I'll get something signed for you if you want.”

I dig into my pocket and pull out the money Mom gave me and a ten-dollar bill from shoveling Mr. Cooper's driveway. “I don't have anything.”

The line starts moving. “Okay, man. I'll see if he has a flyer or something.”

“Thanks.” I turn to make sure Duncan isn't getting into anything. A sick feeling makes my stomach lurch.

He's gone.

Chapter Three

Where
is
he?

I whirl the cart around.

“Did you see the tall boy I was with?” I ask a man standing in the lineup for Sidney Crosby. “He was probably talking to himself.”

“Sorry, can't say I did. Why don't you ask—”

I don't wait for him to finish. I push the cart past all the people and glance down each aisle as I head to the other end of the store.

Nothing.

My last hope is the cereal aisle. Duncan usually gets obsessed with a new brand.

He's not there.

I'm starting to freak. What am I going to tell Mom? My heart pounds in my chest like it does when I'm going in for a goal. I'm almost running now. The electronics section is at the end of the row. And then it hits me. He's probably in the movie section.

I zoom around the corner and, sure enough, Duncan is standing in front of the big tv screen. The latest Spider-Man movie is playing, and he is glued to it— and I mean glued. If he was any closer, he'd be hugging the tv.

I'm relieved to see him, but at the same time I'm really ticked off. I wasn't talking to Ian for that long.

“Duncan, you scared me,” I say. “You can't run off like that!”

“I'm not Duncan, I'm Spider-Man!”

“I don't care who you are! We've got to go.”

“But I want to watch.” He points at the screen.

“You can watch one when we get home. Come on.” I pull on his arm.

“No!”

“Stop embarrassing me,” I whisper. “Let's go!”

I grab the cart and drag him out of the electronics section.

Bleep, bleep, bleep
. The alarm goes off as soon as we walk through the area.

“Hang on there!” One of Bucky Dwayne's security guys runs over. “I think you have something that hasn't been paid for.”

Duncan has a video in his hands.
Great!

“Oh, sorry, this is not what it looks like,” I say to the guy. “Duncan, you've got to give the movie back.”

“But I want it,” he wails.

“You've got a whole bunch at home. Come on, give it to me.” I try yanking it out of his hands.

“No!” Duncan says, clutching it to his chest. “I'm in charge.”

People are staring at us. If Duncan was little, they would ignore us, but a teenager having a tantrum like this is not a common sight. Bucky Dwayne's security guy doesn't know what to do. We're now the Saturday entertainment.

“Oh, forget it…I'll just pay for it!” I grab Duncan by the sleeve and walk over to the cashier in the electronics department.

“Can I pay for the rest of the stuff in my cart too?” I ask the cashier.

“Sure, that's fine,” she says.

“I hope you're happy!” I glare at Duncan.

“I like this movie,” Duncan tells the cashier.

“Well, let me scan it, hon.” She leans over the counter while Duncan holds it for her. She totals everything up. “That will be forty-five dollars and fifty-seven cents.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out the money, I start counting. A sick feeling twists my stomach around. Even with my own money I'm short eight bucks.

“Ah…I think I have to put something back,” I say quietly.

“Excuse me?”

“I don't have enough,” I say a little louder.

“Supervisor to electronics,” she announces over the loudspeaker.

“You've got to be kidding me,” a familiar voice moans from the back of the line. “What's the holdup?”

I stand there like a complete loser, trying to ignore Cody Shanks.

“Hey, bonehead,” Cody jeers. “Are you going to answer me?”

I can't bring myself to turn around. My face turns a thousand shades of red.

“You can go to the next department,” the cashier says to him. “Someone will help you there.”

“Whatever,” Cody grunts.

“He needs to strengthen his patience muscle,” the cashier whispers. “Don't you think?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I say.

On the bus ride home, Duncan sits in his favorite spot behind the driver. He has a big smile on his face as he says hello to everyone who gets on the bus. I lean my head against the window as we fly along the Bedford Highway.

It's hard to stay mad at him.

The next stop is ours. I make my way toward the front of the bus. “You can pull the bell now,” I say to Duncan. “But just once, okay?”

Duncan nods. “Just once.” He reaches up and yanks the rope. We've been practicing this for the last few months. The first couple of times, Duncan went crazy with the bell ringing. Today it goes off without a hitch.

“Good job.” I reach over to steady him as he stands up.

“Thank you, bus driver,” Duncan says before getting off.

“See you later, boys.”

We walk up the hill in silence. As I unlock the back door, I say, “We'd better be quiet okay? Mom is probably still sleeping.”

“She likes her bed,” Duncan says.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

I dump the shopping bags on the kitchen table. I notice a flyer for Sidney Crosby. If Dad had been alive, he would have made sure I got to meet him. Mom doesn't have a clue who's who in the hockey world. I tear up the flyer and shove it in the garbage. The lid slams shut with a bang.

I hear voices coming from Mom's room upstairs. I thought for sure she'd still be sleeping. I knock on her door before sticking my head in. “You up?”

“Oh! You're back. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd just…”

I glance over at the tv. She's been watching home movies. My stomach tightens as I catch a glimpse of Dad. He's laughing and wading into the water with Duncan in his arms. I sit down on the bed.

“Wasn't Duncan precious?” She reaches for a box of tissues and blows her nose.

“Sometimes I wonder what he'd be like now if he hadn't had that awful fever.”

“Mom, don't.”

“Daddy and I were so worried he wasn't going to make it.”

“Why don't I turn the lights on?” I ask.

“They're burnt out,” she says. “I don't know what's wrong with them. One burnt out last night and the other went this morning. Oh, look at Daddy.” She points to the tv.

“I'll go get the lightbulbs.” I would do anything to get out of that room. I find it hard to hear Dad's voice. It makes me miss him more than I already do. Besides, I can't stand seeing Mom cry.

I dump the groceries onto the kitchen table.

No lightbulbs.

Why did this have to happen on the
day she's crying over home movies?

I head back upstairs.

“Oh, Max, honestly. I thought the list was pretty straightforward!” Mom says when I tell her I didn't buy lightbulbs.

“You're not being quiet,” Duncan butts in. He's standing in the doorway. “Remember, Max? You said to be quiet.”

“It's okay, Duncan,” Mom says. “I couldn't sleep.”

“I like my new movie,” he says in a deep voice. “Thank you, Max.”

She looks at me. “Is that why you didn't get the lightbulbs, Max? You can't give in every time he wants something. You know that.”

“You don't understand what happened!” I plead.

She yanks the sheets off her bed. “All I wanted was lightbulbs. Was that too much to ask?”

She thumps around her bedroom picking things up. “I don't have the patience for this, Max.” Her voice is shaky.

Duncan's smile fades. He turns to leave, and then he notices Dad on the tv. “I want to talk to him. I want to see him
now
.” He walks over to the tv and starts hitting the top of it.

“Duncan, you can't, sweetheart. It's only a movie.” She puts her arm around him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I know it's hard. We all miss him.”

“Dad's not grumpy like you,” Duncan says.

Mom is fighting back tears.

“Come on, Duncan,” I say. “Let's leave her alone.”

I turn on another movie for Duncan, hoping it will take his mind off Dad. Back in my room I flop onto my bed and pound my fists into the pillow.

Chapter Four

No one answers the phone. On the fourth ring, I roll off my bed and search for it. I pitch several hockey magazines off my desk before I find it.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Ian says. “The puck is signed. You should see his signature, Max. It's crazy. Oh, and I got something for you too.”

“You did?” I sit on the edge of my bed listening to him.

“Yeah, Sidney had stuff on his table for free,” says Ian. “I grabbed you a poster.”

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