You Will Call Me Drog (21 page)

I stepped into the bright alley and turned Drog so he wouldn’t be facing the dumpster.

“Drog! Do you realize you called me by my name in there? You actually called me Parker!”

“Did I? What was I thinking?”

“This troupe’s a great thing for you, isn’t it?”

“Great? It’s brilliant! I’ll be witty and wicked and sarcastic, and people will laugh and love me, just like Punch. But
I
can say whatever I want. Punch had to say the same lines over and over—”

“Great for you, but not so good for me right now. I need to go to school and practice aikido and be with my mom. And my dad.”

“But—”

“So what I’m thinking is, since you’re such a terrific puppet and actor all you need is a hand. Any hand. Why don’t
you
join the puppet troupe? Sergio understands you. He likes you exactly the way you—”

“No! You heard what he said. You and I, we’re the perfect team. You know, I had a great idea in there. You make a Parker puppet for your other hand, dressed in your dodo uniform, and we have a two-man act. I play all the villains and bosses and kings and you play the fall guy. Get it? The fall guy, ha-ha! And of course I always get the girl. We’d be huge.”

“No, no, Drog, it’s you they want. I’d just hold you back. Go with the troupe.”

“Wait a minute,” Drog said. “Wait just a blooming minute. Now I get it. Sergio doesn’t really need another puppet, does he?”

“What?”

“This is all a plot! A plot to get rid of me! You and your mother and Sergio, you’re all in this together aren’t you?”

“No, Drog, you don’t—”

“And to think I almost took the bait! Well, you don’t fool Drog twice. No sirree! I’m sticking with you, no matter what!”

No, no. My one chance.

“Drog, you’ve got it all wrong. I’m trying to do what’s best for you, honest.”

“Honest? You? When were you ever honest?”

“What do you mean? I’m honest!”

“Hah! Don’t forget, I know you. You like to fight, but you hate to admit it. Yes? You’re angry but you pretend you’re not. You let people push you out of shape and only talk back to them when you think they can’t hear you.”

“I—”

“You’re a coward pure and simple, Boy, and cowards are never honest. The truth is, you couldn’t get along without me!”

“Oh, couldn’t I?”

“No, you couldn’t. You need Drog for backbone. Look at you, all tied up in knots whenever your mother or your girlfriend doesn’t like something you do. You’re never going to learn to stand up to people. Especially not that father of yours. When you’re forty years old, you’ll probably still be saying ‘Sorry, Dad. Okay, Dad.’ You’ll never get him to respect you.”

My shoulders got tight. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, as you would say.”

“Well, watch this!”

The vein in my neck started thumping, and my mind sure wasn’t on my stomach mole. I whipped out my phone and punched a number. Dad’s.

Suddenly that hot, bring-it-on feeling felt awfully familiar. The same feeling I had just before I attacked Wade. The same. I pushed the end-call button before the phone could ring on the other end.

“See what I mean?” Drog said.

I lowered both my Drog hand and my phone hand then and just stood there breathing in-out, in-out for a while.

“Yeah, Drog,” I said. “I do see what you mean.” I lifted the phone and punched the number again with my thumb, then closed my eyes.
What do I really want to say to my dad? Just between him and me?
”

His phone rang. Rang again.

One-point one-point one-point one.

“Brian Lockwood here.”

My eyes opened. “Hello, Dad.”

“Wha—Parker? But how did you get this number?”

“From your friend. From Dennis Masterson.”

One-point one-point.

“Dad, I know you’ve been worried about me—”

“Look, Parker, if this is about the other night—”

“I just want to say that if you want to know something, you don’t have to have anybody check up on me. You can ask me.”

“That was a bad idea I know, Parker. I regret it.”

“You scared me, Dad.”

“Ah. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “I’ve been kind of scared myself lately. About you.”

Dad? Not just worried, but scared? I believed him. But I had to go on.

“About Bradley Military, Dad—I can’t go there. It would be bad for me. The worst.”

He was quiet for a minute. “I suppose you’re not really a cadet.”

“No, I’m not. I’m ... more of ... a maker.”
At least I was. At least I want to be.
“I like to dream up things, and then make them. Turn nothing into something. Rules and schedules kind of get in my way.”

“That’s exactly what worries me, Parker. I can’t see where any of that is going to take you. I thought Bradley would be good for you in the long run, give you some discipline, you know? An atmosphere where you could focus more, learn how to think.”

“I am learning that. Another way. I know you always want me to use my head, but ... I think with my hands.”

As soon as I said that, I realized it was true.

“Hmmmm. Of course with all your drawing and constructing things, you could probably go into architecture or industrial design or ... I just worry that I ought to be doing something to help you find your way in life.”

“Dad, believe me, the best thing you could do for me right now would be to stop worrying about me.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

One-point one-point.
“Dad? Where have you been?”

There was a long silence then, but I didn’t try to fill it up. I wasn’t sorry I asked.

I could hear him take a deep breath. And then another one.

“You know,” he said, “at first I thought you and I would spend a lot of time together. But I didn’t feel comfortable at the old house anymore. I thought by coming there to visit I’d just give you the idea that your mother and I would get back together. So it had to be at my place. But it was hard to think of enough things to do and talk about with you. I wasn’t used to that, Parker, and when it happened, I turned my attention to what I do know. My work. I’m not saying that was right, it’s just how it was.”

I swallowed. “What about now?”

“I—I’ve had regrets.”

Neither of us spoke for a minute.

“Have you thought any more about Christmas?” he said, finally.

Take a chance, Parker. Say it.

“I’d like to spend Christmas with you, Dad. And Shanna.”

“You would? That’s wonderful, Parker. That’s ... that’s great!”

“We get out of school on the twenty-first.”

“Okay! I’ll come pick you up. And Parker, if there’s enough snow ... want to go sledding? Just us? Do you still like to do that?”

Sledding. Sledding.
The word got all mixed up with the sound of my heart beating, and I couldn’t answer for a minute. “Yeah, Dad, I’d like that.” I knew then what I wanted for Christmas. Snow. A lot of snow.

“What about ... will you be bringing—”

“Drog?” I couldn’t resist. “Have I told you how good he is in math, Dad?”

“I mean, you can bring him if you have to.” Dad sighed. “Just keep him put away, I guess.”

“No. I don’t have to. I ... I won’t be bringing him.”

I expected Drog to crush my hand like a python then, but what I felt was nothing. Nothing.

I lifted my Drog hand, but all I saw was my bare hand.

“Dad! Sorry, I gotta hang up!”

“But—”

“Bye.”

I whipped around. There, lying on the cold ground behind my feet, was Drog, or what was left of him. He looked so little. So empty.

“Drog!” I yelled.

No answer.

Exactly what I had been praying for: Drog off my hand. Free at last. But it was all wrong. I didn’t want him to just ... end.

I plucked him up by the head and shoulders and ran back into the auditorium.

“Whoa,” Sergio said, “what’s the hurry?”

“It’s ... I’ve decided. Drog will join the troupe without me. Could you put him on, quick?”

“Sure.” He reached out and took Drog from me.

“No, Sergio, wait! You might not be able to get him off!”

He grinned. “Thanks, Parker, but don’t worry. Here goes. He’s a left-hander, is he?”

I nodded, and Sergio pulled Drog on.

“You traitor!” Drog screamed at me before Sergio had a chance to say anything. “You yellow-bellied mop head!”

Sergio stared at Drog, then at me, then threw his head back and laughed. “Well, he still talks,” he said, “and he’s friendly as ever.”

I bit my lip and tried not to let Drog see how relieved I was.

“You see, Drog?” I said. “Sergio does want you. There was nothing to be afraid of.”

“Afraid?
Afraid?
Drog is never afraid.”

Blend with him.
“Of course not, I forgot. Anyway, they’re going to put you in lots of plays—”

“And the first one will be with Jasmine,” Sergio said to his Drog hand. “She took a shine to you, my friend.”

Drog looked up at Sergio.

“She did, didn’t she?”

“Everyone in the troupe will want their chance with you,” I said. “You’ll be so busy rehearsing and performing and traveling all over the country, you’ll hardly have time to sleep.”

“And how about you, Boy? Won’t you be jealous?”

“I’ll try not to be.”

“But you have no idea how lost you’ll be without me, Parker! Oh well, your problem. You’ll just have to come see me when I’m famous.”

“I will. Maybe even before.”

“Meanwhile, I suppose you’re going back to sweating in the doo doo with Sensei?”

“The doo doo?” Sergio said.

“Oh, he means the dojo. Yeah, Drog, that sounds pretty good to me.”

“You’d better get your black belt in that peace-fighting if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’ll try, Drog.”

“Don’t try. Do it!” Drog said.

I laughed. He sounded like Sensei.

I punched Mom’s number on my cell phone. “So long, Drog,” I said. And then I said something that surprised me. “We’ve had some good times.”

“You’re really going? Now? Wait. Did I ever tell you about—”

“No, Drog,” I said.

He turned to Sergio. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get started with that Jasmine girl.” Then he turned back to me. “You still here?”

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out,” Sergio said.

He slipped Drog right off his hand and laid him on the shelf. A frayed little piece of cloth dropped to the floor, and Sergio picked it up.

“Sergio ... Drog ... you just ... took him off! How?”

He smiled and put his puppet hand around my shoulder. “It gets easier with practice.” He handed me the cloth scrap. “Want this for a souvenir?”

It was a label: Made in U.A.E.

Mom drove up and waved, and it hit me. How was I ever going to break it to her about Christmas? Well, first the good news.

I got into the warm car, hiding my left hand in my jacket pocket. Mom waved to Sergio and we watched him walk back to the stage door.

“Well, Parker,” she said, “how’d everything go?”

“Surprise!” I pulled out my hand, held it up, and grinned.

“Wha—Parker! He’s gone? Really?” She stared at my hand.

So did I. Amazing. It was a little pasty, and there was gunk in all the creases, but otherwise it looked pretty much like the other one.

“Yep. He joined the troupe without me.”

“Oh, Darling, this is such wonderful, wonderful news! Congratulations!” Then she yelled “Whoopee!” out the window and headed for the highway. “Wait till your father hears you got rid of that puppet!”

No
. “Please, Mom, don’t tell Dad or anyone I got
rid
of Drog. Say ... I got him a job.”

I remembered the scrap of a label and pulled it out of my pocket. “Have you ever heard of U.A.E., Mom? I think it’s a place.”

“Oh, you must mean the United Arab Emirates.”

“Emirates? Emir-ates? Is that where emirs come from?”

“Well, it’s one of the places, yes.”

Ho! So did Drog just make up that boy from Ohio? Did he really know the emir’s son who spoke Gelato? Neither? Both? Did he even know himself anymore?
Drog, you rascal.

I burst out laughing and couldn’t stop. Mom joined in, even though she didn’t know what she was laughing about, and each time she caught her breath to say
what?
it just set us both off again. I’d never really thought about the words
belly laugh
, but right then my one-point sure was getting a massage.

Finally we were quiet, and Mom grinned over at me.

Here goes.

“Mom? I want to go visit Dad for Christmas.”

The car slowed a bit.

“I see. I guess I’m not surprised.”

I waited for her to say something more, but she didn’t.

“I know he has trouble being my dad sometimes, but maybe he just needs more practice.”

She gazed out the window. “Well he—I believe you’re right about that. Parker, I’ve always thought if only he could just ... enjoy you. He has no idea what he’s missed.”

It had begun to snow again. Big soft flakes this time.
Let it last
.

“He’s going to take me sledding.”

“Ah.”

The windshield wipers cleared two fan-shaped windows through the wet whiteness.

“Christmas without you will be awfully lonely, Parker. I’m not going to pretend it won’t.”

“Yeah I know. Sorry.”

She sighed. “And here I was thinking we’d go pick out the tree tomorrow.”

“We still can, Mom.”

She gave me a half smile. “Of course we can. You’re right. We could still have Christmas together, couldn’t we? Just a little early.”

“Cool!” I said. “Two Christmases!”

She tousled my hair, “You’re quite a guy, Parker. You know that?”

I ducked from under her hand.

“Mom? Everything’s ... changing so fast. It’s mostly good, I guess, but to tell you the truth, I’m kind of scared.”

She swallowed. “I know what you mean,” she said. “Me, too.”

So we were all scared now—Mom, Dad, and me.

Two Christmases? Could be good. But two families? How would that be? That question mark was getting bigger.
Think about something else, something easier
.

I reached in my pocket for Wren’s agate stone and leaned back in the seat, trying to picture myself doing aiki-do with two free hands. And making things again! I’d have just enough time to carve something for Mom for Christmas. Maybe an ornament for the tree.

Then I remembered I still hadn’t told her there wasn’t going to be any heat at aikido that night. I didn’t tell her.