Bat Summer (7 page)

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Authors: Sarah Withrow

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BOOK: Bat Summer
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“It better do it. I don't know. Maybe you need special shampoo. Get out, you little fuckers,” she says as she lathers up again. I look at the back of her neck. I'll get to put my hand there again.

There's a knock on the door. Lucy's head is under the faucet, so she doesn't hear. I kick her foot. She turns.

“What?” She hears the next knock.

“Lucy?” It's her dad.

“Yeah?”

“I told you, no friends allowed during the day.” He sounds tired and pissed off. Just like Elys before her morning coffee. “Who's in there with you?”

Lucy and I look at each other. It's like we both suddenly realize that we aren't the same sex. Adults wouldn't understand about us both being bats.

“It's only Terry, Dad,” Lucy says.

I don't let people call me Terry because it sounds like a girl's name. I am always Terence. Only I don't mind so much if it saves my butt.

We both listen and wait for her dad to leave the door.

“Hurry up, okay?” he says finally, and we hear the floor squeak. I breathe a huge sigh of relief. But Lucy still looks pretty nervous.

“You've got to get out of here fast when I open the door. Go straight into the closet across the hall, okay?” I nod. She wraps her head in a towel and listens at the door. After a few seconds she looks at me and then opens it. I fly across the hall and open the closet door. It has a bunch of shelves in it, but I can fit under the bottom one.

A roll of toilet paper falls on me. I hold it next to my chest to keep it quiet. Sure enough I hear Lucy's dad coming down the hall.

“What were you doing in there?” he asks.

“Washing my hair.”

“In your bathing suit?” Lucy must be nodding. He doesn't sound angry anymore, just curious. “Where'd your friend go?”

“Gone,” Lucy says. I hear the washroom door close and knock my head against a shelf. I put my hand over my mouth to keep from yelping. I bite down on the roll of toilet paper in case I forget to keep my mouth shut. There's a boxing match going
on in my chest. I wonder if Lucy can hear it through the door.

I press my ear against it and fall over into the hall.

Lucy's father is staring down at me, and I've got that roll of toilet paper stuck in my mouth. Lucy is right behind him looking petrified. Her arms are shaking. She needs to eat more.

“What the hell is going on?” Lucy's dad booms. He's wearing a bathrobe. People always look meaner when they are angry in their bathrobes. He's got spiky red hair just like. Lucy It's sticking up all over the place like a crazy man's.

I close my eyes, hoping it will all go away.

“Get up,” he says. So I do. I take the toilet paper out of my mouth and put it on the shelf in the closet. All the time I can feel him watching my every move.

“Are you Terry?”

I nod. He has his hands on my shoulders so I can't run away. I want to say, “I'm just a kid, I'm just a kid,” but I can't help thinking about those ketchup magazines I've got hidden under my mattress.

Lucy's dad is looking me straight in the eye, and I'm having a hard time looking innocent.

“Terence was just helping me clean up,” Lucy says. Her dad looks her over, too, takes in her wet hair and her bathing suit, and my dry hair and dry clothes. Lucy backs into the living room. “See, Dad?”
He grabs the back of my collar and pulls me with him into the living room. Right away he softens up. He moves his hand to my head.

“Okay,” he says. He doesn't look particularly happy. He looks like he just ran five miles in his bathrobe. “But I told you no friends, Lucy. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Terry.” I wince a little at him saying my name like that. I feel my heart pounding harder in my chest. I don't want to leave Lucy alone to get in trouble. Not like Rico left me.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Terence,” Lucy says. “I have an idea I want to talk to you about.”

“Like what?” her dad says.

“Daaaad,” Lucy says. She's trying to smooth it over and it's working a bit. “It's kid's stuff, Dad.” She puts her hand on his arm. “You wouldn't understand.” Her dad takes another look at the living room. He nods and rubs his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in twenty years. He walks back toward the washroom.

Lucy walks me to the door.

“Thanks, Terence,” she says. “Meet me at the picnic table tomorrow.” She closes the door. Instead of taking the elevator, I run down all the stairs. I run ten floors in two minutes.

When I get home, this weenie guy in an orange tie is reading the comics on the couch. He has his shoes
off. He's wearing gym socks with a suit. Elys would have something to say about that. She may not have a job, but she knows a thing or two about what's wrong in work attire, and gym socks top the list.

I'm thinking, “Make yourself at home, buddy.” I'm thinking it, but what I say is, “Uh, hi.”

The guy pops right up, like I'm his captain. He has one of those moustaches where the ends grow down around the mouth like two daggers. It makes his head look bigger, somehow. It's the wrong kind of moustache for someone in a suit. My mom likes guys who look like they should be wearing motorcycle outfits but are wearing suits instead.

“You must be Terence,” he says, sticking out his hand. I have to take it. “I'm Farley. Your mom's upstairs.” As if I didn't know. “You're off school now, right?”

“Right,” I say. I sit down on the rocking chair. Farley's in my usual spot. I don't know what I thought he would look like, but he's shorter than that.

The guy looks me over. He seems to be looking for something to ask me about. I would ask him something, but I don't feel like it right now.

“You've got your mother's eyes,” he says.

I think, “Better than having her boobs,” but what I say is, “Yeah, I guess. We both have 20/20 vision.”

Farley laughs.

I can tell by the way he's looking at me that he has it bad for my mom. I can just tell. He looks happy about me, which is the wrong way for a boyfriend to act about his girlfriend's kid. He's supposed to look more scared.

I close my eyes because Farley is looking at them all goofy.

“You been out bothering the girls, Ter?” he says. He shouldn't call me Ter right off. That's a mistake. “You look plum tuckered.” Now I have to open my eyes again.

“Yeah, I was washing my girlfriend's hair and boy, are my hands tired,” I say. What do I care what he thinks. I usually don't talk back to adults.

I think Farley appreciates my honesty, though, because he's nodding.

“I never wash hair before the third date,” he says. “What's she like, your girlfriend?”

“She's a bat,” I say. He is definitely going to be telling Mom about our little conversation here. It will give her something to chew on while Farley's trying to impress her with his bad French in Montreal. He raises his furry eyebrows. “She hangs upside-down from a noose in the attic.” Sometimes it doesn't matter what you say.

“Oh,” he says. Lucky for him, Mom comes downstairs. She's got on her weekend clothes — black shorts and T-shirt.

“Terence, Good. I'm glad you're home, hon.”

“You said to be here for when you left.”

“Yes. And here you are.” Now she's the one acting all goofy. She sounds like somebody's mom, but not mine. She's talking to me but looking at Farley. She doesn't ever call me hon. She calls me “Ter, you whacko, be a sweet thing and get your mom a sandwich.” Sometimes she calls me Ter Bear, usually after a particularly bad day at work, or once when I got a big sliver and she had to pick it out with a sterilized needle. “So, you met Farley?”

“Yeah. I did.” Now I totally regret saying anything to the guy about anything. He winks at me. Yeesh.

“Terence was telling me about this bat he knows.”

“A bat?” Mom smiles, like my whole life is a joke. “Yeah. He says she likes to hang upside-down in attics.”

“I hope you aren't going into strange houses, hon,” Mom says. She's not getting it at all. Neither is he. Anyway, I can tell by the way they're looking at each other that I could say that the CN Tower toppled over and they would say, “That's nice,” and go to Montreal.

What I end up saying is, “No. I just know this bat. That's all.” I start rocking the chair and close my eyes again.

“You got everything?” Farley asks.

I wonder if my father had a moustache like Farley's. Maybe Elys knows. Mom tells her a lot of stuff. Mom says she didn't know my father very well. She says she loves him for giving her the best gift ever: me.

It felt strange being in a house with a father today. I always feel like I have to be really careful when a father is around. They seem more naturally mean than mothers. Mom lets me do anything I want — as long as it doesn't mean any work for her.

“Can I go to the Science Centre this weekend, Mom?” It's the perfect time to ask. Farley's got her bag slung over his shoulder and is making for the door. I can tell he doesn't know whether to stop or not.

“I'll be there in a sec, hon,” Mom says to him. What's with this hon thing? She fiddles in her purse, pulls out some cash and puts it on the coffee table.

“Here. Tell Elys I said it was okay, but only if she's up to it. She has a life, too, you know, sweetie. I'll be back Sunday night. If she doesn't take you we'll go out for pizza or something, okay?” I nod. She takes another hard long look at me. “You all right, Ter? You look tired. I hope you haven't been prowling in strange houses. Where's this attic?” She strokes my hair. I'm too old for that. I pull my head away.

“There is no attic, Mom.”

“Was it in a movie?”

“It's too hard to explain,” I say. Let her figure out a gap for a change.

“I want to hear all about it on Sunday. I have to get going now. It's seven hours to Montreal and I'm driving.”

“Can't Farley drive?”

“He doesn't have a car, hon.” She makes her way to the door.

“Mom.” She turns around for a second. I was going to tell her not to call me hon, but she's got this huge smile on her face that I just can't wreck.

“Bye, Ter Bear,” she says. “Have a good time. I love you.”

“You, too.” She closes the door.

8

I don't want to wake Elys up, but I told Lucy I'd meet her at the picnic table and Elys is supposed to take us to the Science Centre today. At least, she said she would. So I have to wake her up but I don't know how.

I try making a lot of noise downstairs. I make some coffee. I don't know how anyone could drink that stuff. It tastes like mudwater that's had dandelions soaking in it. I bang the pot on the table a few times and listen for movement.

The noise doesn't work, so I make some toast and take it up on a tray with the coffee. Elys is cranky in the mornings. She won't even let me talk to her before her coffee when she stays over. She doesn't get up until after 11:00 a lot of the time, too. She says there's no real point. She used to get up 7:30 every day her first few months out of school. She'd look for work all day long. Now she says it doesn't take all day to not find work. Now she says it takes exactly twelve hours a week to not find a job.

Even walking in the room doesn't wake her up. I have to pry her eyes open with my fingers. Her eyes are open but I know she can't see me. It's like she's still dreaming. Very freaky. She swats my hand away and
gets this cross look on her face with those crazy eyes. I pull back, but she goes right back to sleep, It's no use.

I go to the park to find Lucy by myself. Nobody's there but Russell and his chess board. You'd think there would be more people here on the weekend, but it doesn't work out that way.

Russell and I are the only two people in the park, so there's no way I can ignore him. I can tell he's trying not to look at me with those huge glasses of his. Anyway, Lucy said to meet her at the picnic table.

“Hi,” I say to Russell. He nods. “Have you seen Lucy?”

“Not today. I was hoping she would come play some chess with me. It's early yet.”

Early. That's why no one's here. Russell looks like he wants me to go away. But I have nowhere to go. I think about going to sit on the bench by the wading pool, but that seems stupid, so I sit down with Russell.

“Lucy told me to meet her here,” I say. He nods. I didn't think perverts were shy. What does Rico know? Maybe Rico thinks a pervert is a guy who plays chess.

“So…you want me to show you how to play chess?” he asks. I shrug. I've got nothing better to do.

“Yes, please,” I say. He smiles like he's never heard the word please before. He doesn't look like a
pervert so much anymore. He looks more like an old bus driver.

Russell starts telling me all about how each of the pieces move. I keep looking over toward Lucy's apartment building and then over to where Rico would come from if he was going to show up.

Russell tells me about how the queen is the most powerful piece on the board, which kind of surprises me. You would think the king would have more power since he's the one all the other guys on the board are after, but it turns out the king can only move one square in any direction. I like the way the bishop moves in a diagonal. It's harder to think diagonally than straight up and down and across. Lucy was right about it not being so tough to figure out.

Russell sets us up to play a game. Remembering where all the pieces go is the hardest thing about chess. Russell says for me to go first because I'm red. Now I see how hard the game must be, because how do I know where to move anything?

I shove a pawn forward.

Tom would never play chess. Never in a millennium. He would definitely prefer to look at nudie ketchup pictures than play chess. I never thought I would ever do anything that Tom wouldn't do. I figure we're about even. He gets to learn about canoeing, and I get to learn about kites and chess. And about being a bat, but I probably won't tell him that.

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