My Life as a Stuntboy (4 page)

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Authors: Janet Tashjian

BOOK: My Life as a Stuntboy
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Mom and Dad listen to me talk about Tony all through dinner, but by the time eight o'clock rolls around, they've reached their limit.
Mom changes the subject by asking me how I like having Ms. McCoddle again. I tell her the universe just wants me to be miserable by giving me a recycled kindergarten teacher. She ignores me and tells me she heard Mr. Maroni is doing well in Cincinnati. Dad grabs the new media center book from the counter and hands it to me.
recycled
“I've been looking everywhere for this,” I lie. “Where'd you find it?”
“Propping up the crooked table leg in the den.”
“I wonder how it got there?”
Mom takes Frank out of the cage; I pet him, then pet Bodi too. It might seem crazy, but I never want Bodi to get jealous now that we have another animal in the house.
“Speaking of reading, how about if we start the year off on the right foot and hire a tutor?” Mom suggests. “That way all of us can have stress-free homework time.”
“Relaxing homework? What's next—happy funerals?”
“Derek!” Mom snaps.
It's just a joke, but after I say it, I realize other kids might actually have stress-free homework. I picture kids like Carly listening to Mozart with scented candles while they complete their assignments every night. Am I the only kid in class who crumples papers, bangs his head on the table, and gets sent to his room all because of a few crummy essay questions?
scented
assignments
My mother takes Frank next door to her office to change his diaper while my father looks over my math problems and nods his approval. Since it's still the beginning of the school year, the homework is easy. As much as having a homework tutor sounds like admitting defeat—
Yes, I need someone to stand over
me like a two-year-old; yes, I need help staying focused; yes, I can go to the bathroom by myself
—I wonder if it's something I should consider. Judging by the books Matt's brother Jamie had in our grade, the work will be getting harder by the day.
“Maybe Tony can be my tutor,” I say. “He can help me to perfect my jumps.”
“Not exactly what I was thinking, but nice try,” Dad says.
“If I can't take stunt lessons, I guess I'll do the next best thing.” I tuck the library book underneath the cushions of the couch and curl up with Bodi to watch an action movie on TV.
 
 
I don't know about Matt, but the next day at school I barely listen to Ms. McCoddle. While she's talking about the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, I imagine myself inching up the balcony of Ford's Theatre, grabbing hold of the velvet curtain, and swinging smack into John Wilkes Booth, knocking the derringer out of his hand before he shoots the president. Who says a stuntman can't change the course of history?
assassination
recommended
“How do you like that book I recommended?” Carly asks me at my locker. “Does it have enough action for you?”
I tell her that not only haven't I read it yet, but I'm not even sure where it is. Her expression says she can't even
imagine
losing something as precious and magical as a book.
She tells me about the solar system project she's doing in Ms. Decker's class, but all I can think about is trying to jump from the wall to the bench at UCLA.
reenactment
“I posted that video of Tony on YouTube.” Matt throws his book into his locker. “He's my new hero.”
When Carly asks who Tony is, Matt goes into a lively reenactment of yesterday afternoon. I notice he's
written the word PARKOUR in large letters on his notebook.
Matt and I race to the door when the bell rings. Ms. McCoddle tries to get us to slow down, but we have more important things on our minds.
We spend the next several hours at UCLA climbing up walls and crawling along stairs like cheetahs. We both look around for Tony but don't see him anywhere.
I find a set of stairs and realize it might be possible to walk along the handrails instead of on the steps themselves. I plot the moves in my mind before jumping on the bottom rail to begin.
“Dude,” Matt says. “It's a cement sandwich if you fall.”
“I don't intend to.” For some reason I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I walk all the way up
five levels without looking down. When I get to the top, I pivot and walk back the other way. Matt videotapes the whole thing and is impressed when I land in front of him moments later.
pivot
apprehensive
“That was amazing!” he says.
“Come on, you try it.”
Matt puts his camera down and follows me to the staircase, but I can tell he's apprehensive. I go first and take my time, offering encouragement along the way. He completes the first level but then jumps back down to solid ground. I make the decision to keep going on my own. When I get to the bottom, I hear the sound of slow applause, one person clapping. It's not Matt who's impressed this time; it's Tony.
“You planned your moves, then executed them to perfection,” Tony says. “Just like the pros.”
impress
preparation
This is the first time in my entire life I'm getting credit for preparation, and I wish Matt had recorded Tony's praise so I could play it back for my parents over and over again.
permission
Tony hands me his card. “Why don't you have your mom and dad give me a call?”
“So you can tell them what a good thinker and planner I am?”
He laughs. “No, so I can ask their permission to use you in a new movie I'm working on.”
Matt lowers his camera. “We've been extras in movies before,” he says. “Derek and I were in crowd scenes on the boardwalk two different times.”
“Being an extra is fun, but it's a
lot of standing around.” Tony bends down and looks me in the eyes. “But I'm the stunt coordinator for a movie shooting now with an actor your age and size who's petrified to do a similar move on film. I'm talking about you coming on set and doing something even easier than you did today.”
coordinator
petrified

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