Don't Make Me Smile (3 page)

But not me. No way. In fact, just the thought of having a heart attack made me feel all spooky inside.

It also gave me a mean idea.

My mother got the key to my door and opened it as fast as she could. When she came into my room, I was lying there very, very still.

She ran over and pulled the sheet off me. “Charlie?” she shouted, shaking me. “Are you okay? Wake up! Wake up!”

I didn't move a muscle.

Mom hollered, “Oh my God!” and ran out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, I sat up and smiled.

A second later, she was back. Just like a boomerang.

When she saw me sitting up, she collapsed in relief. “Oh, thank goodness, Charles!” she said.
“I thought something terrible had happened to you.”

She sat down on my bed and hugged me as tightly as she could. But my mother's not dumb. And it didn't take her long to realize that I had just played a very mean trick on her.

That's when she blew up.

Parents do this sort of thing all the time. As soon as they're sure you're not hurt, they think they have to punish you.

“Charlie! How could you do a thing like that to me?” she said. “How could you deliberately let me think that something bad had happened?”

I didn't answer.

By then, Mom had had it. She stood up. “Okay, I'm going to say this one more time, Charles! Get ready for school this minute. And I mean N-O-W!”

My mother is a very strange person. You'd think that when your kid is still wearing his pajamas ten minutes before the school bus comes, you would already understand that he wasn't going to school that day. But not my mother. She still wasn't getting the picture.

“I'm not going,” I said at last.

She frowned. “Excuse me?” she said. “What do you mean, you're not going?”

I explained. “That means that I'm not getting on the bus. And I'm not getting off the bus. And I'm not going to my classroom. And I'm not sitting down in my seat. And I'm not going out for recess. And I'm not going to the lunchroom—”

Mom interrupted. “That's
enough
, Charles. That's really enough.”

She walked around the room a few seconds. Then finally she sat down on my bed again.

Her voice was calmer now. “Look, honey,” she said. “I know that you had an awful shock last night. And I know that you must be very upset about it. But that doesn't give you the right to go around acting horrible to everyone.”

She continued. “Now, today, after school, your dad is going to pick you up and try to explain things to you better. There are a lot of things that he can tell you to help you understand what's happening. And sooner or later, we're all going to get through this. But it won't make things any easier if we all go around acting terrible to each other. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

I nodded.

“Good,” she said. “I knew I could count on you. Now hurry up and get dressed.”

“Mom?” I asked as she started for the door. “Could I just finish explaining what I started before?”

“Sure, honey,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“Well, I just wanted to say that after I don't go to the lunchroom, I'm not going to music. Then I'm not going back to my classroom. I'm not going to get dismissed. And I'm not going to wait for Dad to come get me.”

Mom looked confused. “But you just said you were going.”

“No, I didn't,” I said. “I didn't say that at all.”

My mother blew up again.

“Okay, Mr. Smart Aleck. Let me put it this way,” she said. “You ARE getting dressed, and you ARE going to school! Do you hear me?”

I crawled back under my sheet.

Mom stormed over to my bed. “You listen to me, young man. I expect you to mind! I AM STILL YOUR MOTHER!”

Angrily, I looked up at her.

“No, you're not!” I shouted. “A mother is a person who
loves
her kids and who cares about their feelings. I don't know what you are, but if you ask me, you're sure no mother!”

This time, my mother didn't shout back. Instead, she ran to her bedroom and slammed the door.

I think I had made her cry again.

I don't care.

I don't like people who ruin my life.

T
HE REASON that I didn't want to go to school was simple. I didn't want to have to tell my friends that my parents were getting a divorce. I just didn't want to do it, that's all.

But refusing to go to school is a lot like mowing the lawn. If your parents really want you to go, they can usually figure out a way to make you. So while I was lying there in bed, I tried to think of what I would say to my friends if my parents made me go.

One thing was for sure. I didn't want to have to go around saying it a million times. I wanted to say it once and get it over with.

I wondered if our principal, Mr. Kabinski, would let me use the school intercom. The intercom would be perfect, I thought.

In my mind, I went over exactly what I would say.

May I have your attention, please? This is Charles Hickle speaking.

I would like to inform everyone that last night, at approximately 8:15
P.M.
, my father came into my room and told me that he and my mother are planning to get a divorce.

Now I know that some of you have already been through this sort of thing, and it didn't really bother you. But I also know that different people react to bad news in different ways. And as for me … I have gone nuts.

I hope this will explain why some of you saw my mother dragging me to school today. And I also hope it will explain why I am still wearing my pajamas.

I played it over and over in my head. It sounded pretty good, actually. But I knew I would probably never get to use it.

In the first place, I didn't think that my mother was strong enough to drag me to school all by herself. And even if she did, I was pretty sure that Mr. Kabinski would never let
some idiot in his pajamas make an announcement over the intercom.

That's why I decided to try and think of another way to handle it. I mean, maybe I didn't have to be totally honest with my friends about the divorce. Maybe I could just tell them that my father had gone away on a business trip.

The trouble was, sooner or later, I knew someone would say, “Wow, your dad sure has been gone a long time. How long does this business trip last, anyway?”

Then I would have to say, “Oh, he's on one of those business trips where he never actually comes back.”

And even though my friends seem pretty dopey sometimes, they're still smart enough to figure out that no one stays on a business trip forever.

Finally, there was only one thing left to do. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen to call MaryAnn Brady.

MaryAnn Brady lives next door. I don't like her very much, but sometimes she comes in handy. MaryAnn Brady is one of those people you can always count on to blab around your secrets. Like if you tell MaryAnn something
totally private in the morning, she'll have it spread all over the school by lunchtime. Good old MaryAnn. It's nice to have someone you can count on like that.

After two rings, MaryAnn answered the phone. I figured she would still be home. MaryAnn doesn't take the bus. Her father drives her to school. I think she likes to stay home extra long in the mornings, just in case anyone wants to call with last-minute gossip.

“Hello,” she said.

“Hi, MaryAnn. It's Charles,” I said.

MaryAnn is also one of those people who doesn't say hi after you tell her your name. All she does is breathe.

“Listen, MaryAnn,” I said. “I'm just calling to tell you that I'm not going to school today.”

“So?” she said.

“So, I just wanted to tell you why I'm not going to be there, that's all,” I said. “It's a big secret, though. I don't want anyone else to know.”

I could almost see MaryAnn's eyes light up.

“What is it, Charles?” she said. “Tell me.”

“Okay,” I said. “But first you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even your mother and father.”

“I promise. I promise. Now tell me,” she begged.

“Well, the reason that I won't be going to school today,” I said, “is that last night my parents told me they're getting a divorce.”

MaryAnn got so excited, she almost dropped the phone.

“What?” she said. “You're kidding? Your parents are getting a divorce? Oh my gosh, Charles! That's so
terrible.
A DIVORCE! Wow!”

Already I was sure that her parents had heard the news. Man, what a big mouth.

“I know, MaryAnn,” I said. “But remember. You promised not to tell anyone.”

MaryAnn didn't hear that part. She had already said good-bye. I guess she needed to hurry if she was going to tell the whole school by lunchtime.

As soon as I hung up, I headed back to my room.

Unfortunately, just as I started down the hall, my father walked in the front door. My mother must have called him to come help with my behavior.

“Charlie?” he said. “What's this I hear about you refusing to go to school today?”

I just looked at him.

Dad snapped his fingers. “Go get your clothes on, now,” he ordered.

I don't know why, but when my father says to do something, it always sounds more
meaningful
than when Mom says it. And the funny part is, he doesn't even have to shout.

I went to my room and got dressed. At least now, if they dragged me to school I wouldn't be in my pajamas.

After I was ready, my father came in and sat down on my bed.

He put his arm around my shoulder. “Why are you acting like this, Charlie?” he asked. “This isn't like you. You're always so reasonable and easy to talk to.”

I shrugged.

“What are you thinking?” said Dad. “Talk to me. I can't help you if I don't know what you're thinking.”

I stared into space.

“Do you think that your mother and I don't care about you?” he asked. “Is that what you think? Do you think that we don't love you anymore?”

I shrugged again.

“Well, if that's what you think, you're
wrong,” said my father. “Your mother and I love you very, very much.”

Suddenly, I couldn't be quiet for one more second.

“Do you call ruining my life loving me?” I asked. “Huh, Dad? Is that what you call it?”

“We're not going to ruin your life, Charlie,” he said. “It's not going to be like that at all. We're just changing things a little bit.”

Now I was fuming.

“
Changing
things a little bit?” I yelled. “Do you call wrecking our whole family,
changing
things a little bit?”

My voice cracked, but I kept right on yelling.

“Do you call not having a father around anymore a little
change?
Or maybe you think that just because I'm a kid I'm too stupid to know what divorce really means. Maybe you guys think I'm too dumb to know that my whole life is wrecked.”

My father shook his head. “Charlie, no. We've never thought that you were stupid.”

“Well then, why do you go around asking me stupid questions, like whether I'm okay or not?” I asked. “Because for your information, I am
not
okay, Dad. I'll never be okay again.”

I flopped back on the bed and buried my face in my pillow.

My father didn't do anything for a while. He just kept sitting there.

Finally, he told me I didn't have to go to school. He asked if there was anything that he could do for me.

I raised up a little. My throat ached from holding back the tears.

“Yeah,” I said. “You can move back in with Mom and me.”

He closed his eyes a second, then left.

S
TAYING HOME from school never turns out to be as much fun as I think it will. Usually I get so bored, I end up wishing I had gone in the first place.

The next day, I decided to go back to class. When I got to my room, I was very proud of MaryAnn Brady. Just as I predicted, everyone already knew about the divorce.

The first person to mention it to me was my teacher, Mrs. Fensel. She walked over to my desk and lowered her voice.

“MaryAnn told me about your problem at home, Charles,” she said softly. “If there's
anything I can do to help you, please let me know.”

It made me feel embarrassed. “Yeah, sure … okay … thanks a lot,” I mumbled.

At lunchtime, I hurried to find the table where MaryAnn was sitting and slid in next to her.

“Congratulations, MaryAnn,” I said dryly. “You really did a great job yesterday.”

“Congratulations for what?” she asked.

“For being such a big blabbermouth,” I said. “Thanks to you, the whole school knows about the divorce.”

MaryAnn looked at me a second. Then she said exactly what every single blabbermouth in the whole world always says right after they finish blabbing a secret.

“I didn't tell anyone. I
swear
,” she said.

“Yes, you did, MaryAnn,” I said angrily. “You know you did. Why can't you just learn to keep your big trap shut?”

I wanted to make sure that she thought I was really mad about it. Blabbermouths only like to tell secrets if they're not supposed to. If MaryAnn Brady ever found out that I actually wanted her to blab some of the stuff I told her,
she'd stop doing it. And like I said before, sometimes she can come in handy.

“I didn't tell, Charlie. I
didn't
,” she insisted.

“Well then, how come about a thousand people came up to me this morning and told me that they knew all about the divorce?” I asked. “And how come they all said it was you who told them? How do you explain that, Blabbo?”

“Anyone who told you that is a big fat liar,” said MaryAnn.