We Live in Water (16 page)
17
SONYA LEANED against the bar. All the chairs were up except Wade’s. “So how much are we talking?”
Wade shrugged and acted as if he had to think about it. “Total worth?”
“Yeah. I’m just curious.”
“Well, okay. Figure I’m going to lose almost half of it to the divorce, and I’ve still got restitution to deal with, and there’s a civil suit we’re about to settle . . .”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. Exactly.”
“Yes, you do.”
Yes, he did. He took a drink of his whiskey. “Thirty,” he said.
Sonya’s eyes got huge. “
Million?
”
Of course, it was closer to forty. That’s how much he figured to have left when the dust settled. He wondered why he did that. Shaved off just a little bit. “Give or take,” he said.
She covered her mouth.
“What’s the matter?” Wade asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s kind of . . . sick.”
18
WADE REQUESTED
a meeting with the second-grade teacher, Mrs. Amundson. She was an attractive young woman, maybe thirty, with curly black hair and a patient smile. They sat after school on tiny plastic chairs in her classroom, surrounded by leaves pasted to construction paper. Wade brought out the notebook he kept on the students’ progress.
“Marco is doing especially well. He seems to have a real grasp of context and he’s anticipating stories, which is pretty high-level stuff. I’m not sure he even needs one-on-one attention. DeAndre—I don’t know if he’s been tested for dyslexia, but he really struggles with blocks of text and complex sentences.”
Mrs. Amundson nodded patiently.
Wade flipped to his report on Drew. “Finally, I’m not sure what to make of Drew. He just keeps bringing the same book, this wolf book; he’s basically just memorized it. I want him to be comfortable, but he’s just repeating the story now. I went online, and it looks like there are three more books in that series. I thought if you could have the librarian request the other books, I could work on some word-attack strategies with him—”
The teacher looked up.
Wade shrugged. “I’ve been doing some research.” He held out the notebook.
Mrs. Amundson took it. “This is very thorough, Mr.—”
“McAdam.”
“Mr. McAdam.” She looked down at his report. “Unfortunately, our district cut its library funding last year. We have no librarian. We’re not allowed to request any new books.”
He stared at her. “You can’t request
books
? But this is a school.”
“Yes.” She smiled.
“So a kid gets hooked on a series and he’s just . . . on his own? That’s crazy.”
She closed the notebook and looked up at him. “Look. This is very nice, what you’ve done. But I need to tell you, all of these boys already work with a reading specialist. I just sent them with you because they’re boys who have no male relationships in their lives, and there are no male teachers at this school. I thought they should have some casual, normal time around a man. That’s all.”
She handed Wade back his little notebook.
19
“
I CAN’T, WADE
,” Sonya said. “Just . . . please.”
Wade’s head felt like it was on a swivel. “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
She turned away and started washing glasses.
Wade looked around the bar, at the chairs up on the tables. Then he looked down at the bill she’d left for him an hour ago. “I know,” he said again. His eyes were bleary. He couldn’t focus. The bill looked like it was for forty bucks. As always, Sonya had only charged him for every other whiskey. He opened his wallet. He stared at the blossom of dull, greenish-white bills. He took out three fifties, then a fourth, and a fifth, and finally all of them. He set the money on the bar and left.
20
WADE STOOD
in the children’s section of Auntie’s Bookstore, staring at all the books. All the fucking books.
21
“
I BROUGHT
something for us,” Wade said. He pulled Drew up on his lap and took out the book he’d bought that morning, the second in the series,
The Wolf and the River.
The secretary cleared her throat, but Wade held the boy tight on his lap, and this time he read the whole thing to Drew himself, working to keep his voice steady.
In the book, houses are going up in the fields around the boy’s family farm. Trees are being cut down, and the boy is worried because the wolf has had a litter of six pups. At one point, a bulldozer nearly takes out the wolf’s den. Eventually the boy buys a pool raft to help the wolf move her pups to the safe side of the river, where there are no houses. On the last five pages, as they cross the river, there are no words.
When Wade looked up, the secretary was walking across the office toward them. She was bringing along the vice principal, who was speaking angrily (“ . . . the boy’s on his
lap
!”) into her cell phone.
Wade hung on.
“And that’s the end,” Drew said.
I’M HUNGRY AS FUCK.
Mitch knows a guy getting rid of a TV. A big-screen supposed to work great. Mitch says he watched UFC on it.
That don’t make sense I say. A guy just giving away a big-screen.
Mitch says the guy has two TVs.
Mitch talks a lot of shit so I won’t be surprised if there ain’t no TV.
Fish and chips is what I really want. I got twelve dollars which would be plenty for fish and chips. So hungry.
Mitch says it’s a heavy-ass TV and we’ll need a wheelbarrow for sure.
I ask where the fuck are we supposed to get a wheelbarrow. Like I just carry a wheelbarrow around. Sometimes Mitch.
He says we’ll pawn that TV for two hundred easy. Then I could spend my twelve bucks on fish and chips or steak or whatever the fuck I want.
Mitch’s sister lives up on the south hill. He says she’s got a wheelbarrow. She and her husband garden and shit. I met his sister one time. She seemed cool.
I started loving fish and chips when we had it at middle school. I never had it before that. I used to think chips were the different kind of fries with ridges like we had at school. But it can be any fries.
If we do get two hundred for that TV me and Mitch are gonna gear up over at Kittlestedt’s. On Kittlestedt’s icy shit. Get on a big old spark. None of that scungy east side peanut butter we been bulbing for a month now. Not after we sell that TV.
No more twelve-buck quarters for us.
We gonna amp up on a couple of fat bags Mitch says.
I’m hungry as fuck I say to Mitch.
We gonna eat for days after we sell that TV he says.
He wants to take a bus up the south hill to borrow his sister’s wheelbarrow. Mitch has a bus pass. I got that twelve dollars but no way I want to spend a buck twenty-five on the bus. Because you can’t even get east side shit for under twelve. Twelve is the cheapest I ever seen. Anywhere.
You comin Mitch asks.
If I do spend some of my money on the bus least I could eat then. Fish and chips. Or even just get a tacquito at Circle K and some Sun Chips. I like them Sun Chips too. But I ain’t buying food unless we sell that TV.
Mitch’s bus pass is expired. He wants me to pay for both of us on the bus. Fuck that I say. We get off. The bus drives away.
And I think of something. How the fuck are we gonna get that wheelbarrow all the way downtown from his sister’s house anyway. It’s like two miles. And we’d have to take the wheelbarrow back. Uphill.
Yeah that’s true Mitch says.
I known that fucker two years. First time he ever said I was right.
First time you ever been right Mitch says.
Fuck I’m hungry.
You keep saying that. Fucking buy some food then Mitch says.
But he knows I can’t. I need my twelve bucks. He’s just fuckin jealous ’cause he ain’t even got enough for a bump.
There’s a coffee place downtown where I know this girl. I went to school with her. We walk down there. Keep our eyes open for wheelbarrows. You see wheelbarrows at construction sites sometimes it seems like. But when you need one you sure as fuck don’t. I don’t think there is a wheelbarrow in all of downtown Spokane.
The coffee shop has outside tables either side of the door. There’s two guys in suits and sunglasses drinking ice coffee. They’re eating scones. Them fucking scones look great. I’m hungry as shit. The business guys give me a look. Inside the coffee shop I lick my lips to get the salt.
The girl I know ain’t working. Sometimes she gives me the day-old pastry. She’ll say what happened to you Daryl. And I’ll say what happened to you. I forget her name. She’s kind of fat now. She wasn’t fat in middle school. She was pretty hot I think. But she’s fat now.
But that’s not what I mean when I say what happened to you. About her being fat. I’m just fucking around. And I did know her name before. I just don’t know it now.
Anyways it don’t matter because she ain’t working. Some guy is working instead. With a goatee. I ask him is the girl who works here around. He makes a face like what girl or maybe he just thinks Mitch and me stink. And he looks at the stain on my T-shirt. I was having a hot dog at the Circle K a few days ago and I was with Todo and that fucker waits until you take a bite of something and then he says the funniest shit. He could be a stand-up comedian Todo. I forget what he said exactly but the ketchup squirted on my shirt. And then it left this stain.
Mitch flops down in a booth.
The goatee guy watches Mitch pick at his face. You have to order something if you’re gonna stay here the coffee guy says. They got these cinnamon rolls must be half frosting. Fuck me I am so hungry. The goatee guy looks at me like I’m a fucking jerk-spazz.
That girl—I have to start over. And then her name comes. Marci! Marci said come in and she’d give me something from the day-olds. Marci. I can’t stop blinking.
Marci’s not here.
Can you check. Can you check if she left me something from the day-olds.
I am so fucking hungry.
A couple ladies with shopping bags come in.
The goatee dude rubs his head. He leans forward like he’s telling me a secret. If I give you tweakers a scone will you get the fuck out of here.
Give us each one.
They got a day-old basket next to the register. The dude takes two scones and gives them to me. One is a triangle. That’s the one I want.
Come on Mitch I say.
We go outside. It’s funny. Them two business dudes are sitting there eating scones. And Mitch and me are eating scones. Only we didn’t pay for ours. Who’s the fucking smart guys now.
Only that scone ain’t too good. It don’t taste like nothing. Not like that cinnamon roll would’ve. Or like fish and chips. More like wood chips.
Fuck me. I’m even hungrier now.
Mitch and me decide to just walk to the dude with the TV’s house. Maybe he’s got a wheelbarrow Mitch says.
It’s over the river in a big house I never seen before. A covered front porch with a fridge out front. There’s like ten people hanging at the house but it ain’t a party. Mitch says the dude is strictly into weed but there’s a smoked lightbulb on the front porch. I think maybe we’ll get hooked up here. But the dude with the TV is all business.
He’s eating a Hot Pocket while he talks to us. Fuck me I want that Hot Pocket. So hungry.
You fucking stink this dude says to Mitch.
Yeah I’m gonna go home and get cleaned up after we sell that TV Mitch says.
What’s wrong with this guy he asks.
He’s just hungry Mitch says.
The dude’s got a brand-new TV in the living room. Two little kids are on the PS2. They’re playing
Call of Duty
. I’m good on that game I say but they don’t look up. The TV is pretty big. How big is that TV I ask.
Fifty-five inch the dude says. He says that’s his new TV. The Double Nickel he calls it. The Sammy Hagar.
The picture is too sharp though. It’s like sharper than your eyes. That would freak me out. On
Call of Duty
I see shit I never knew was there. Life ain’t that real.
The other TV is on the back porch. It ain’t even plugged in. It’s an old-school projector TV. I worried Mitch was full of shit. But here it is just like he said. This TV is the biggest TV I ever seen. I don’t even know how big. The thing’s probably five feet tall and five feet wide. Probably three feet thick. It’s huge. Like a room. Mitch is right we’re gonna need a fucking wheelbarrow.
You want it it’s yours says the dude who lives here.
You know anyone who has a wheelbarrow around here Mitch asks the dude.
He looks at Mitch like get your own fucking wheelbarrow.
There’s an alley behind the dude’s house so Mitch and me go walking along there looking for a wheelbarrow.
I am so fucking hungry. For a while in middle school we got free lunch. But then my mom worked at the air force base and we got off free lunch. She used to make me cold lunch. But whenever there was fish and chips I’d buy my own school lunch. That’s how much I liked it. And chili. I liked the chili fine but I really liked them cinnamon rolls. It’s funny they always had cinnamon rolls and chili in middle school. I don’t know why. They just did.
Fuck. I am so hungry.
I’m gonna kick your ass you don’t stop saying that Mitch says.
You can’t kick my ass.
A ten-year-old girl could kick your fucking jittery ass.
That girl’s six-year-old sister could kick your picker ass.
That girl’s newborn baby sister could kick your smelly ass.
That girl’s kitten could kick your ass.
That girl’s kitten’s fleas could kick your ass.
Sometimes Mitch cracks me up. He ain’t no Todo but sometimes.
We walk down that alley. There’s a kid’s Big Wheel. There’s a turned-over grocery cart but it’s got busted wheels.
And that’s when I see it. Hey Mitch look. No shit. Next to a fall-down garage in back of this house. Leaning up against it. It ain’t even rusted. A goddamn almost brand-new wheelbarrow. You hear that saying My Lucky Day and I guess sometimes.
