Parts & Labor (11 page)

"Mrs.
Dugan, this food is quite delicious. Almost as tasty as hot dogs and ice
cream."

Mom emptied the last of the long bottle into her glass. "Why, thank you, Norbert."

"You
ever play Scrabble?" I asked him.

"No."

"You
home-schooled kids live sheltered lives."

I
had set the board on the table, and we had each taken our seven letters.

"What
you do is, use your seven letters to make a word off the words on the board.
I'll go first and show you."

I
put down a word: S-P-A-C-E.

"With
the double word score, that's eighteen points. Now you use your letters to
make a word using one of those letters. If you can use all seven letters, it's
a fifty-point bonus."

"Yes,
I now understand the object of this game."

He
put down letters off my C: Q-D-X-B-T-F-K.

"Thirty-one
points plus a fifty-point bonus."

Norbert
smiled as if he were really proud. We all looked at the letters then at each
other then at him. It was sad when someone got Scrabble totally wrong, but we
didn't want to embarrass our guest. Still, he needed to learn the game.

"Dude,
that's not a word."

"Dude,
yes, it is. It means …" Norbert looked back down at his letters then
up at us. "My bad. I am still thinking in Russian. Lots of
consonants."

He
removed his letters and added an X to the A.

"Ax.
Nine points."

"You
lived in Russia?" Mom asked.

"Yes,
in Moscow."

"Did
you enjoy it?"

"Yes,
but the Russians are a sad people. Like us. Perhaps it is the Communism.
Perhaps it is the weather. Or perhaps it is the food—no hot dogs or ice
cream." He smiled. "But I had much fun today."

"Good."

Scarlett
added L-E to AX. "Axle. Eleven points."

"What
does your father do for the government?" Mom asked.

"He
is an analyst."

"And
he has to work weekends?"

"Yes.
It is a very important assignment. National security."

"Oh,
he works for the federal government?"

"Yes."

"Are
we being invaded?" Scarlett asked with a grin.

Norbert
didn't answer.

"Spaceman,"
Mom said.

"Pardon
me?" Norbert said.

"My
word." She added M-A-N to the end of SPACE. "Fourteen points. Norbert,
we'd love to meet your father, have him over for dinner. Any night."

"I
shall inquire as to his availability."

After
dinner, Mom took Maddy for her bath, a requirement after every meal. Norbert
helped Scarlett and me clear the table. I pulled a chair up to the sink and
climbed up. Norbert watched me with a curious expression.

"Max,
are you attempting to reach something?"

"Oh,
I'm gonna wash the dishes." I gestured down. "Our dishwasher
doesn't work."

Norbert
opened the dishwasher door and peered inside at the dish racks.

"You
place the dishes inside this machine and it washes them?"

"Yeah.
But it's broken, so I wash the dishes by hand."

"Why
does the dishwashing machine not work?"

"I
don't know. Mom called the repairman out for a free estimate. He looked
inside the service panel for like, ten seconds, then said, 'Two hundred fifty
bucks.' She said goodbye."

Norbert
lay flat on the floor and removed the service panel at the bottom of the
dishwasher where the engine was. Norbert stuck his hand inside and fiddled
with something. He then removed his hand and stood.

"The
dishwashing machine is operational now."

"You
fixed it?"

"Yes."

"Hey,
Scarlett, Norbert fixed the dishwasher."

Scarlett
came over and glanced from Norbert to the dishwasher.

"No
way."

"Way."

"It
works?"

"Yes,"
Norbert said. "Commence the operation."

Scarlett
closed the door and turned the knob. The dishwasher started.

"It
works. How'd you do that?"

Norbert
just smiled. But I smiled bigger—no more man-washing.

When
he left to go home, Mom said, "Norbert, remember to ask your father over
for dinner. And thanks for fixing the dishwasher."

"Thank
you for the food, Mrs. Dugan."

Norbert
turned to me and stuck out his fist. I gave him a fist-bump.

"Dude,"
he said, "this was my best day on Earth."

Home-schooled
kids were enthusiastic when they got out.

 

 

The
next morning, Norbert knocked on our door at seven sharp sporting his L.L. Bean
look. When I opened the door, he held out my iPod. It looked brand new.

"You
fixed it?"

"Yes.
But what is a 'kung fu fighting'?"

"Oh,
that's a song. My mom put it on my iPod, to give me self-esteem."

I
turned the iPod on. The screen lit up. It worked.

"How'd
you do that?"

He just smiled.

"Wow.
Thanks, dude."

It
was Sunday, so we ate breakfast then got dressed for church. Norbert sat in
the den and watched the morning talk shows, the ones with old politicians
yelling at each other and getting red in the face like their blood pressure had
climbed dangerously high. When I came back downstairs, he pointed at the TV
and said, "Your politicians never answer a single question."

"Mom says they're professional liars."

Norbert
nodded. "We had the same problem. So now our politicians must wear a truth
implant. It can discern whether they are telling the truth or lying. If they
lie, it administers an electric shock. One million volts."

"Wow,
you guys are tough in California."

"It
has proved quite effective."

Mom walked into the room. Her face looked like she hadn't slept at all—again—and she seemed
particularly frazzled trying to get Maddy dressed. We went outside and climbed
into the Suburban. Mom turned the key … but the engine wouldn't start.
She dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel and groaned.

"Not
again. Last time it cost five hundred dollars to fix."

Dad
had always fixed the cars. I thought Mom might cry.

"Mom, we can skip church today," I said.

"But
I've still got to get it repaired. They'll have to tow it, which'll cost even
more and …"

"Perhaps
I can repair the vehicle," Norbert said.

"Oh,
Norbert, you can't—"

But
he was already out the door and standing in front of the Suburban. He was so
short I could barely see the top of his head over the hood.

"He
fixed my iPod, Mom."

"And
the dishwasher," Scarlett said.

Mom sighed and popped the hood. Norbert released the latch and the hood flew up. He was
invisible to us. After only a few seconds, he pulled the hood down—somehow.
Then he came around and got back in.

"The
vehicle is operational," he said.

Mom turned the key, and the Suburban roared to life. Mom turned to Norbert.

"How'd
you do that?"

Norbert
just smiled. Again.

After
church, we waited on the front sidewalk while Mom talked to the priest by the
front doors. He was patting her hand like he did every Sunday now. When we
got back home, I changed into shorts and a T-shirt and my Legend sneakers and
came back downstairs where Norbert was waiting.

"You
want to change into play clothes?" I asked.

"These
are the only clothes I possess."

"Dude,
you'll scare people in SoCo dressed like that."

We
went outside and started down the sidewalk, but Norbert stopped.

"Max,
is it safe for you to walk around the city without a larger person protecting you?"

"Safe
for me? I'm twice as big as you, dude. But yeah, it's safe. Everyone in the
neighborhood knows me. Besides, I've got superpowers now."

But
Norbert was right. Before I had superpowers, I was always nervous walking
around the neighborhood by myself, even though everyone knew me and I knew how
to run from bad guys since I had had lots of practice. We walked up the hill
past Mrs. Cushing's house.

"Up
and down, up and down," Norbert said.

"Austin is like that. The hills and the trees and the lakes, that's why people love living
here. That and the Mexican food."

Two
more blocks and we were at the fire station.

"My
dad worked there."

I
loved to visit Dad at the station. He'd let me climb up on the trucks and
slide down the pole. I missed that. Jesse and Oscar were outside washing
their red EMT truck. They noticed me and waved.

"Max!"

I
waved back, then Norbert and I continued over to South Congress and stopped at
the light.

"The
light is red and the sign says walk," Norbert said. "Why are we
stopping?"

"Because
drivers here run red lights."

I
checked both ways, then we crossed Congress. Halfway across, Norbert stopped
and gazed north at the State Capitol. The dome sparkled in the sunlight.

"A
beautiful sight," Norbert said. "That is where your politicians
gather?"

"Yep."

A
car honked at us.

"Come
on," I said, "before we get creamed."

We
hurried across then walked down the sidewalk to Ramon's tattoo shop where we
found Floyd T. painting and Rex sleeping. The big dog perked up when we
arrived.

"Hey,
Floyd T."

"Whaddaya
say, Max?"

"This
is Norbert. He just moved in next door to us."

"Nice
to meet you, Norbert."

I
turned to Norbert. "Floyd T. was a war hero. He's got a fake leg."

Floyd
T. reached down and rapped his left leg with his knuckles.

"Plastic,"
he said. "Say hello, Rex."

Rex
barked. I petted him, but he sniffed Norbert and backed away, which was odd
for Rex.

"Sorry,
Norbert," Floyd T. said. "Never seen him act that way before."

"It
is me. I am uncomfortable around your animals. He must sense that."

Floyd
T. put his brush on the paint can and said, "Bathroom break," then went
inside Ramon's tattoo parlor.

"Why
does he smell so badly?" Norbert asked.

"Oh,
Floyd T.'s homeless."

"He
has no home?"

"Nope."

"Where
does he sleep?"

"Right
here, on Ramon's stoop."

"Why?"

"Because
we lost his war."

"Ah."

"You
want to see Ramon tattooing someone? Come on in, but don't touch anything,
especially the blood. Mom said you can get a bad disease in tattoo parlors.
Hippopotamus C."

"That
sounds bad."

We
went inside the tattoo shop just as Floyd T. walked out. Latino music played
in the background. Ramon was inking in a big tattoo of a black spider on the
broad back of a fat man who was bleeding like someone had walked on his back
with Dad's golf shoes, the old ones with the metal spikes. Ramon was blotting
blood with a towel. I introduced Norbert to Ramon.

"Does
that procedure inflict pain?" Norbert asked.

The
fat man chuckled. "Dang right it does. But it makes me look pretty,
don't you think?"

"No,
I do not think so."

The
fat man chuckled. He was good about being insulted by a kid.

"But
it is artistic."

"Thanks,
dude," Ramon said.

The
parlor smelled like the doctor's office when I got my flu shot a few weeks
ago. I hated that smell … and needles even more. All that blood made my
face feel hot and my armpits tingle, so we said goodbye and went outside.

"That
fat man must also be homeless," Norbert said.

"Why?"

"Because
he smelled worse than Floyd T."

We
strolled down the sidewalk past the other shops on that block. Norbert liked
the painted faces on the outside wall of Lucy in Disguise with Diamonds. All
the stores were open on Sunday. Mom said there used to be laws against that
sort of thing, but now Sunday was just another shopping day, like Thanksgiving
and the Fourth of July. Norbert stopped and stared at everyone we passed as if
they were the most fascinating creatures he'd ever seen.

"Why
does everyone here paint their bodies?"

"
'Cause this is the weird part of Austin."

We
crossed Elizabeth Street and walked past Güero's and down to Kid Genius, my
favorite store. Not that I was a genius or anything, but they had neat stuff
for non-geniuses, too.

"I
grew up on this stuff," I said.

They
had toys, scooters, books, games, Legos, and other cool stuff that was supposed
to make kids smart. We walked over to the check-out counter where Brian was
manning the cash register and hunched over a Sudoku puzzle in a book. He was a
geeky college kid with wild hair and black glasses. He was tapping a pencil
against his head and frowning.

"Hi,
Brian."

His
head came up. "Max—whazzup, dude?"

He
gave me a fist-bump, but Norbert turned his eyes to the ceiling.

"Nothing
is up," he said.

"That's
just an expression," I said.

"And
what does it mean?"

"Just
a way of saying hello."

Norbert
smiled. "I like that. 'What is up?' "

"No.
It's like, 'whazzup?' You run the words together."

"Whazzup,
dude?"

"Nothing
much," Brian said.

"This
is Norbert. He just moved here from Los Angeles."

He
held his fist out to Norbert, who hesitated then executed a timid fist-bump.

"Man,
I wanna move to L.A., get into movies," Brian said.

He
had about as much chance of being a movie star as I had being a pro
quarterback.

"Do
not quit your day job," Norbert said to Brian.

"What?"

Norbert
shrugged. "I do not know what that expression means, but humans say it
often in Los Angeles."