My Life as a Stuntboy (13 page)

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Authors: Janet Tashjian

BOOK: My Life as a Stuntboy
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sentry
Bodi seems to know that Frank's been through some trauma because since the operation he hasn't left Frank's side. He sits next to Frank's cage like a sentry and doesn't realize the only person Frank needs protecting from is me.
My mother checks the paper each morning, and when it comes on Sunday, she's the first one to spot the article in the local section.
“This is wonderful.” She leans against the kitchen counter and drinks coffee as she reads. “You sound so grown up.” She spreads the paper out on the table so Dad and I can read it too.
I break my own rule about reading on the weekends and check out the article—photos and captions first.
“Really nice quote from Tony,” my father adds. “He says you were professional and prepared.”
I ask my parents if we can scan that sentence in the printer and enlarge it a hundred times so I can hang it in the kitchen to point to every time they think I'm messing up.
enlarge
“You should be very proud.” It's not really an answer to my question, but Mom seems happy enough
that I can probably talk her into anything.
As I put my dishes in the sink, I'm shocked by what I see on the windowsill. It's the toy horse that almost killed Frank.
“What's this doing here? I threw him away!”
consequences
“I pulled him out of the trash,” Mom explains. “I thought he might serve as a reminder.”
“Of how Frank almost died?”
She shakes her head. “No. That actions have consequences.”
Even on a day with a glowing newspaper article about Yours Truly, my mother can't resist another teaching moment.
She rinses out her coffee cup and tells me it's no big deal and that the horse looks good next to her
collection of tiny cacti. I decide to take her at her word and drop the subject.
After breakfast, we go to the Hollywood Hills, where we take Bodi off the leash and let him trot alongside us as we hike. I walk ahead of my parents to my favorite part of the canyon, the caves. Sometimes there are tourists taking pictures because this was one of the locations used in the old
Batman
TV show. I imagine a crew here many years ago filming the Dynamic Duo in their Batmobile zooming out of this cave to fight crime. The actors probably weren't even here. I bet they saved the hard stuff for their stuntmen.
cacti
We avoid the puddles, and when we come out of the cave, we look
back in the other direction. The letters of the HOLLYWOOD sign stand guard over the canyon like giant white soldiers. I've lived here my whole life, but it's still exhilarating to see such a famous landmark up close.
exhilarating
My mother bends down to give Bodi some water. “Does the sign seem like it applies to you a bit more since you've been in a movie?”
I make a face like that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, but in reality I was thinking the same thing. To celebrate the newspaper article, we stop at House of Pies, and I order a slice of chocolate cream. My parents split a piece of custard pie and let me choose which songs to listen to on the drive home.
When we get back, I sit on the
couch with Frank and Bodi and watch one of the action movies Tony sent over to show my parents his work. In one scene, he jumps off a bridge and lands in a tugboat full of garbage bags.
“Don't get any ideas,” Mom says.
“Don't get anything
close
to an idea,” Dad adds.
It's kind of a perfect day, one of the best I've had since summer—until I realize tomorrow is Monday and the school week's about to start all over again.
 
 
intercom
The next day, Mr. Demetri congratulates me on the article. I do appreciate his support, but I wish he had told me in the hall instead of on the intercom during morning announcements.
Ms. McCoddle applauds when he's done, and the class joins in—even Matt, which makes me happy.
On our way to the cafeteria later,
Joe walks alongside me with a book. He reads the words with painstaking slowness. Because I want to have teeth left to eat my lunch, I don't comment on his reading skills, which appear to be worse than mine.
Swifty joins us and starts reading over Joe's shoulder, stumbling over every word.
painstaking
“What's going on?” I ask.
They both laugh and head to the lunch line.
I grab Matt. “What's wrong with Swifty and Joe? They're acting like idiots.”
“Like idiots—exactly.” He gives me a friendly punch in the arm and walks away.
I must look pretty confused because Carly comes over and asks if I'm okay. I tell her I have no idea
what Swifty and Joe are doing, but whatever it is, it's not funny.
“Matt too,” Carly says. “Don't let
him
off the hook.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?” She pauses. “You mean you haven't seen it?”
“Seen what?” I try to imagine the worst: that Swifty and Joe have taken yesterday's newspaper article, drawn a mustache on my photograph, and hung it outside the classroom.
“Come on.”
I follow Carly to the media center, where she asks Ms. Myers if she can undo the Internet block for a few minutes. (This is what life is like when you're a girl who reads books in her spare time—teachers will do
the impossible for you.) Ms. Myers tells her she'll give us five minutes.
Carly goes to YouTube and types in “IDIOT READER.” I lean toward the monitor and am shocked by the video that starts to play.
It's me reading out loud, slowly and deliberately. The video was shot from our porch and shows Ronnie and me sitting at the kitchen table. Watching the video is one of the most humiliating moments of my life.
deliberately
“I do sound like an idiot,” I say.
“Lots of people have a hard time reading, not just you. Who do you think posted this?”
It's a question I don't have to ask because I already know the answer: my best friend with the videocamera.

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