Road Trip (3 page)

I glance out the window and snap a picture of Dad talking on the phone—I might as well photograph all the elements of this trip—when I see the clerk from the store come out to grab a smoke. He looks kind of rough around the edges, like Theo.

Theo.

Perfect.

I’m glad the boss and my boy were talking. But I don’t think my boy wants to talk to the boss anymore. Then it will be too quiet in the truck and the boss will play outlaw country music on the radio loud and my ears will hurt. It’s better when they talk.

Talking is always a good thing.

Even the new house is a good thing.

I saw the house the boss bought. And I saw the way his eyes smiled and his shoulders lifted when he walked through it. I don’t know why he didn’t try harder to tell my boy that he bought the house three months ago. Or that he worked on it at night and on the weekends and it’s for sale and there’s an offer already. The boss can’t stand sitting around waiting to see if it works out, and that’s why we’re going on a trip.

The boy didn’t notice that the boss was always gone and always tired.

I noticed.

The Criminal Element

Theo’s a guy I know from school. He should have graduated this year, but he’s missing a few credits. Our guidance counselors hooked us up because I’m a volunteer tutor and Theo needed someone to help him stay focused. I don’t actually tutor him, since he’s a few years ahead of me. We just get together to study. It must be working, because he’ll graduate next semester.

When I first met him, he scared the crap out of me—he’s got a shaved head and an eyebrow piercing. I’d heard about him around school. They weren’t the kind of stories that scream future study buddy.

Getting to know Theo is one of the coolest things that ever happened to me.

I do all right for myself, friend-wise, but no one’s knocking people down to hang out with me. Or they
weren’t until word got out that Theo and I were tight. My stock rose after his street cred rubbed off on me. That’s what I like to think. I noticed a lot more people sitting at my lunch table after everyone heard I was friends with Theo, and the guys on my hockey team keep asking if Theo’s going to come to a game. This is what friends of rock stars and professional athletes must feel like.

Plus, Theo’s just cool. No one else I know can talk about the subtext and dramatic irony of the play he’s reading
and
the community standards for curfew violations and truancy. He’s been in some trouble, but he’s a good guy. Atticus loved him right off the bat.

Dad got a bad first impression of Theo when he overheard me telling my friend Todd that Theo had told me one of his buddies had been picked up for vandalism. Dad thought I was talking about Theo. He calls Theo “the hoodlum.” I never bothered to correct him, because I liked the idea that Dad thought I was hanging out with a juvenile delinquent. Besides, Dad hasn’t been around much lately.

Theo is exactly what this trip needs.

I dial his number. Theo picks up on the fifth ring, drops the phone, swears a blue streak, and says, “Five-fifty-six. In. The. Morning. This better be good.”

“Sorry about the time. It’s Ben. Got two words for you: Road. Trip.” As part of his “I’m really serious about
graduating” plan, Theo has been doing nothing but studying for months, and he’s itching to taste freedom now that summer vacation has started. He lives with his older brother. I don’t know where his parents are, so it’s not like his folks are going to say no. Theo says his brother’s only rule is “Don’t smoke in the house.”

“When do we leave?”

“We’re on our way. Swing by your place in five.”

“Good to go, dude.”

I love Theo. I really do.

Dad does not. Which is what makes Theo essential for the trip.

The second Dad opens the truck door, I blurt out, “Theo’s coming with us.”

Dad doesn’t say a word, just rests his forehead on the steering wheel. Welcome to my world, Dad. Now we’re both miserable.

“How about a different friend? What about Todd? Let’s bring Todd. Todd doesn’t have a record and I’ve never seen his butt crack because his pants hang down too low, and Todd doesn’t scare old ladies and little girls at the mall. Let’s give Todd a call and drop the Theo idea. Whaddaya say?”

“Nope. Theo.”

“Is it even legal for him to leave town? Won’t his electronic ankle bracelet go off and alert the cops, put him in violation of some court-ordered restriction?”

“You exaggerate. Theo might seem rough, but he doesn’t have an ankle bracelet and he’s expecting us. We should get going.” I point to the clock. “Weren’t you the one in the big hurry?”

I can tell Dad wants to argue, but he’s dying to get on the road.

“Fine.” He slams the truck into gear, zips onto the road, and floors it. “But I am not—repeat not—posting bail for that kid if he robs a convenience store or mugs a senior citizen along the way.”

“Understood. I don’t think theft is his thing anyway.” Dad flinches. I smile. “Take a right here. Third apartment building on the left.”

Theo’s standing on the street corner, smoking. He flips the butt away as Dad pulls up next to him, and climbs into the cab. Even though it’s a big interior and Theo’s in the backseat, his nicotine fug is gagging. Atticus wrinkles his nose and sneezes. Theo’s taking off his jacket. He’s wearing a sleeveless T-shirt. Excellent. No way Dad’ll miss the homemade tat on Theo’s arm. I turn to snap his picture and Theo flexes his bicep so that the tattoo really pops.

“Ben.” Theo pounds my back as we pull away from the curb. “Ben’s dad—how’s it hangin’?” Awesome. Disrespectful to Dad and a bad influence on me in five words.

“You can call me Mr. Duffy.” Dad’s gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles are white. This
might not be a totally horrible trip after all. I open a bag of barbecue chips and settle in.

“Can I smoke?” Theo asks.

“No,” Dad says. “Not in the truck, not on the trip, not in front of my son.”

“Got it. You one of those health nuts?”

“Just opposed to carcinogens.”

“Sure.” Theo shrugs and I’m a little disappointed he doesn’t put up more of a struggle.

I hand Theo the bag of chips to take his mind off the nicotine fit he might be having and he starts crunching away. I pass back a can of soda, hoping he’s the kind of guy who does big burps. That’ll slay Dad. But Theo isn’t a belcher.

“So, Theo,” Dad says suddenly and in such a relaxed and friendly tone that I glance over in surprise. He winks at me, his Mr. Insurance Salesman, I’m-your-best-buddy wink. I bet he learned it at a convention. It means he’s trying to work the situation to his advantage. He’s probably hoping he can charm a confession out of Theo that will justify dumping him on the side of the road. I hope Theo hasn’t got that kind of confession in him. I’m not sure how much of a past he’s jammed into eighteen years. He doesn’t like to talk about himself. “Tell me about school. Ben says you’re really pulling your grades up.”

That’s an exaggeration. Theo passed all his spring
courses, but his GPA isn’t anything to get excited about. And I’ve never talked to Dad about Theo’s grades. I don’t have a good feeling about this. Theo is supposed to make Dad’s head explode trying to put up with him, not become his new best friend.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I stopped screwing around and got serious about school.” Theo is obviously trying to impress. Dad nods, obviously impressed.

Man,
nothing
is going my way this morning.

“Impressive,” Dad says. “What about after you graduate?”

“I’m planning to go to a community college to take care of my prereqs and get some decent grades. Then I’ll be able to apply to the university.” Dad’s nodding like crazy, which is all the encouragement Theo needs to continue: “My guidance counselor said that with a GPA and a history like mine, that’s the best plan. If I had known I was going to have to bust my butt this hard, I’d have taken high school more seriously, not skipped so many classes and so much homework, not to mention all the other stuff I pulled.”

I knew Theo probably wasn’t the kind of person who’d wind up in the middle of a street fight or the back of a cop car like Dad thinks. But I had no idea he could charm a parent this way.

My phone buzzes. Mom. I let her go to voice mail
and then text her the picture of Theo’s tattoo with the message “We’re bringing my friend Theo.” Mom’s not as freaked as Dad about Theo, but he’s not her favorite person.

“Got a job lined up?” Dad and Theo are still mapping out Theo’s future.

“Not yet, but I’ll have to find work because there aren’t any scholarships for a guy with grades like mine.”

“I’m glad you came with,” Dad tells Theo, grinning at me with an evil look in his eye. “Ben wanted to ask Todd, but I encouraged him to invite you instead.”

Atticus barks. Sounds like “Liar” to me.

“So, what’s the story with this trip?” Theo asks.

“Going to rescue a dog,” Dad answers.

“Cool. I like dogs. Why take a road trip to get a dog, though? Can’t you pick one up around here?”

“This one needs us.” Dad hands Theo his phone. “Read the email I got. Read it out loud. So Ben can hear it.”

“ ‘This six-month-old border collie was found on the side of the freeway, skinny and dehydrated, his paw pads scraped and raw from the asphalt. Due to overcrowding, it’s urgent we find a home for him as soon as possible.’ Wow. Rough start for the little guy.”

“You can say that again,” Dad says. “I had border collies when I was growing up. One saved my life, pulled
me out of the street, kept me from getting hit by a car when I was a kid. Promised myself I’d never be without a border collie.”

“Oh, hey, a picture.” Theo holds it up for me to see.

Border collies, I swear, can smile, and this one has a big dopey grin that breaks me right down the middle. Especially to think that such a sweet pup had been dumped and left to fend for himself.

Theo’s still reading: “ ‘Approximately four million dogs and cats are put down each year because of overpopulation.’ Man, I had no idea.…”

I swipe at my burning eyes and glare at Dad. “I’m making this trip for the dog; spending time with you isn’t going to fix anything between us.”

“So noted.”

“How long are we going to be gone and where are we headed?” Theo ignores the bad vibes between Dad and me. “I left a note for my brother that I was taking off with you guys; I should text him a few details.”

“A couple days, there and back,” Dad answers.

“Don’t let him fool you. We’ll be lucky to roll back into town by Labor Day,” I snort.

“Ben thinks I’m too impulsive to be trusted on a road trip,” Dad says.

“Well,” I say, “maybe it wouldn’t have been a bad thing if you’d prepared a little before taking off.”

“How?”

“Get the truck serviced?”

“The truck runs fine. It’s just a simple trip. It’s almost boring.”

I feel a shiver run down my back. Dad is lots of things, but he’s never boring. I hope I’m wrong to be worried. There’s nothing I can do about it anyway except buckle my seat belt and hope for the best. I sit back and throw an arm around Atticus. He looks out the window like he’s the one driving.

“Yup.” Dad takes a swig of water from the bottle in the cup holder. “Nothing but smooth sailing from here on in.”

I wonder what the cat is doing right now. If I’m not around, he sharpens his claws on the side of the couch. I’m the only one who gets upset. I’m not allowed to bite—the people yell if I so much as snap at the cat—but I bare my teeth and the cat knows I mean business. He’s probably sleeping in the sink, which I never allow, or sitting on the kitchen table licking the butter, which they always forget to put back in the fridge after breakfast unless I sit by the table and bark to remind them.

A dog is going to be a lot of work for me.

Maybe we’ll keep the smoky-smelling big boy Theo, instead, and forget all about the new dog. He’s keeping the boss and my boy talking. And he reached up and scratched the itch for me when he saw that I couldn’t quite reach the right spot behind my ear with my back paw. He’s good people. I can tell.

My boy thinks Theo doesn’t care that he’s not getting along with the boss. He does, though. I felt him tense up when they were talking even though he pretended not to see what was going on. He knows. I know that he knows.

The Bus