Small Steps (7 page)

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Authors: Louis Sachar

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BOOK: Small Steps
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14

“Just don’t come home with your nose pierced,” Ginny’s mother told her.

Ginny promised she wouldn’t.

Armpit’s parents seemed more worried about Ginny’s safety than her own mother, but Armpit had a lot to do with that since his natural response was to argue with anything they said.

“Now, you keep a sharp eye on Ginny at all times.”

“She can take care of herself.”

“There are a lot of crazy people at a rock concert.”

“Just because people have tattoos or pierced tongues doesn’t mean they’re crazy!”

“If you’re not going to be responsible . . .”

“Ginny’s mother trusts me. Why can’t my own parents?”

“Because we know you.”

He didn’t know why he argued with them like that. He was just as concerned as they were, if not more so. He knew a rock concert could be a wild scene and had every intention of protecting Ginny and holding her hand until they were safely in their seats.

He called X-Ray to make sure he hadn’t already sold the tickets.

“I got a guy on the line right now!” X-Ray said. “He said he’d pay a hundred and fifty a ticket. I told you the price would only go up. Didn’t I tell you?”

“You can’t sell them. I’m taking Ginny.”

“Ginny? Are you outta your gourd? Have you completely lost your mind?”

“Look, she had a really bad day. Just bring the tickets over here. I want to get an early start so we can beat the crowds.”

“We’re talking three hundred dollars!”

“I promised Ginny.”

X-Ray said he’d be over in twenty minutes, but he did not sound happy about it.

Armpit sighed as he set the phone back in its cradle. Maybe he was crazy. He didn’t even know if Ginny would be able to handle the loud music and the crowds.

The phone rang a moment later. It was X-Ray again.

“I told the guy they were no longer for sale, and he offered two hundred a ticket.”

“No,” said Armpit.

“Four hundred dollars!”

“No.”

         

It was almost seven o’clock. X-Ray still hadn’t showed. Armpit and Ginny waited on the front porch, along with Ginny’s mother.

“You listen to Theodore and do everything he tells you,” said her mother.

“I will,” Ginny promised.

He would be driving Ginny’s mother’s car. She insisted on it, which was fine with him, because if he took the X-Mobile they’d have to first take X-Ray home and they were running out of time. Besides, Ginny’s mother’s Camry was undoubtedly more reliable, and safer, than X-Ray’s machine.

His mother came outside. “Still not here?”

Armpit shook his head.

“You must be very proud of Theodore,” said Ginny’s mother.

Armpit’s mother was caught off guard. “Uh, well, yes, of course I am.”

If he sold those tickets I’m going to kill him,
Armpit thought, and then a second later the X-Mobile pulled around the corner.

X-Ray parked in front and slid out the passenger side as Armpit and Ginny headed down to meet him.

“What took you so long?” Armpit demanded.

X-Ray ignored the question. “Hey, Ginny, are you ready to
rock ’n’ roll
?”

“Yes.”

X-Ray laughed, then handed Armpit the envelope containing the two remaining tickets. “Just remember,” he said. “Be flexible.”

“All right,” said Armpit.

“You hear what I’m saying?
Flexible.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Armpit said. He didn’t have time for any of X-Ray’s nonsense.

He and Ginny got into her mother’s car; then he carefully backed it out of the driveway while everyone waved good-bye. He saw X-Ray say something to Ginny’s mother, who laughed.

They turned the corner. The clock on the dashboard read 7:06. The concert wasn’t until eight.

He winked at Ginny. She shut and opened both eyes.

Armpit sang:
“I’m gonna take you for a ride! And we’re gonna have some fun! I’m gonna take you for a ride!”

Ginny joined in:
“And we’re gonna have some fun!”

Armpit:
“I’m gonna take you someplace you never been before . . .”

They sang the last line together.
“And you’ll never be the same again!”

15

They sang all the way to the Lonestar Arena. “You know, you don’t stutter at all when you sing,” Armpit pointed out.

Ginny laughed.

“Maybe you should sing all the time.”

Ginny laughed again.
“Good mor-ning,”
she sang. “
I’ll have pan-cakes.”

Armpit laughed as he pulled into the parking lot, which was crammed with cars and people.

Ginny sang,
“Two plus two is four, Mrs. Randsinkle.”

He couldn’t find anything that resembled a parking space. It was X-Ray’s fault for being so late.

He lifted the handicapped placard out of the pocket in the door beside him. “I’m going to have to use this,” he said.

Ginny stopped singing.

“It’s not because I don’t think you can walk.”

Ginny nodded. “I know,” she said.

He hung the placard on the rearview mirror and parked right in front.

Ginny tightly held Armpit’s hand as they made their way to the building. She was so excited she would have fallen several times if he hadn’t been holding her up. “Small steps,” he reminded her.

“Is she all right?” the ticket taker asked.

“She’s dancing,” Armpit told him.

Inside, they had to maneuver their way through throngs of people all moving in different directions. Before going to their seats, they got in a long line at one of the concession counters. Ginny’s mother had given her twenty dollars.

Armpit lifted Ginny up on his shoulders so she could see. She really wanted to get a Kaira DeLeon official tour T-shirt, but when they got to the front, they were told it cost twenty-eight dollars.

Armpit was willing to pay the other eight dollars, plus tax, but Ginny’s mother had told her not to let Theodore pay for anything. Instead, Ginny bought two soft drinks, which came in plastic souvenir cups, and a bucket of popcorn for them to share. She paid with her twenty-dollar bill and got one dollar and seventy-five cents back in change.

Armpit held the popcorn and his drink, while Ginny held on to her drink and his arm, as they slowly made their way to their seats. He couldn’t help thinking about the last time he’d held a bucket of popcorn in a crowded place, but they safely reached section B, row M, seats 1 and 2 without incident.

The large stage, with giant towers of speakers on either side, jutted out in front of them. Behind them were at least forty rows of seats, and those were the good seats. Beyond those, and to the sides, were two tiers of bleachers.

He glanced around at the people seated nearby, realizing they were the ones to whom X-Ray sold the tickets. Well, at least they got their money’s worth. These really were great seats.

“Great seats, huh?” he said.

“Yes,” said Ginny.

He looked for Murdock but didn’t see him. An African American girl was sitting a few seats away with her boyfriend. If she was Murdock’s daughter, then that was too bad. He remembered Murdock had bought the tickets so he could spend time with his daughter on the one weekend a month he got to see her.

         

Backstage, Kaira DeLeon was chewing a piece of gum that had long lost its flavor. This was always the worst time for her. She knew she’d be all right once she started singing. Then she would disappear into the music.

The backstage area was filled with people, half of whom she didn’t recognize. Besides all the people working on tour, there were record company executives, friends of record company executives, children of lawyers, brothers-in-law of security personnel. Every once in a while someone managed to slip past the Doofus and ask for her autograph. In Houston, a woman and her two kids had actually asked her to sing a song for them.

Kaira wore a lavender sweat suit. Beneath it was the outfit she’d wear for the show, which was little more than sparkling underwear with fringe. For some reason it seemed all right to dress that way in front of thousands of people, but in this small area it would have been embarrassing.

She wished she had stayed in her dressing room instead of having to be around all these people. It was almost eight, but the concerts never started on time. She should know that by now. El Genius liked to “make ’em wait.” He didn’t want her taking the stage until the audience had worked itself into a frenzy.

She looked at him, shouting into his walkie-talkie. She pitied the person on the other end. Next to him, her mother was drinking from one of those horrible plastic souvenir cups with her picture on it. Lately her mother had begun having cocktails during the show.

At least Aileen wasn’t around. Kaira could no longer stand the sight of her. She’d already gone to Dallas to make sure all the arrangements had been taken care of at their next hotel.

Kaira wondered if her mother suspected there was something going on between Jerome and Aileen. Maybe that was the reason for the cocktails.

A local DJ was onstage now, firing up the crowd.

“Is everyone ready?”

         

“Yes!” Ginny shouted at the top of her lungs, but even Armpit, sitting right next to her, couldn’t hear her for the crowd.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” he and Ginny shouted.

“Because Kaira DeLeon will be standing on this very spot in just five minutes!”

Armpit felt Ginny’s fingernails dig into his arm.

“So just hold on a little longer!”

Everyone cheered the line from one of Kaira’s songs.

Armpit only slowly became aware that somebody was tapping his shoulder. He turned to see a security guard.

“Excuse me,” the guard said, apparently not for the first time. “May I see your tickets, please?”

A man and young girl stood behind him. The girl was probably Ginny’s age, although she was much bigger.

“May I see your tickets, please?” the security guard asked again.

“My tickets?”

“Please.”

Armpit tried to remember what he’d done with them. He hoped he hadn’t dropped them when he was dealing with the popcorn and soda.

“You’re sitting in our seats!” the girl accused.

“Are n-n-not!” said Ginny.

Armpit stood up to check his pockets. The security guard instinctively stepped back from him.

“I don’t want any trouble,” the guard said, placing a hand on his walkie-talkie. “I just want to make sure you’re in your right seats.”

Armpit didn’t want any trouble either. “I got them here somewhere.”

“I’m going to have to ask you to come with me, Sir.”

“I’ve got the tickets!” Armpit shouted, partly out of frustration and partly to be heard over the crowd, which was now stomping their feet with impatience.

“Please come with me, sir, and I’ll help you find your correct seats.”

“Just wait!”

The guard spoke into his walkie-talkie. “I’m going to need some help here. Section B.”

Armpit’s pants had too many pockets: three on the right front, two on the left front, and two in the back. “Found ’em!” he exclaimed. They were in one of the front pockets. He handed the stubs to the security guard.

As the guard was looking them over, two uniformed police officers hurried quickly down the aisle. “What’s the problem here?” asked one of the officers.

“No problem,” said Armpit.

“Counterfeit tickets,” said the security guard. “He refuses to leave.”

“What?” Armpit exclaimed, reaching for the tickets. “Let me see . . .”

An officer grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back, spinning him around.

Armpit jerked himself free, but the other officer grabbed him.

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, his face pressed against the concrete. He could feel a knee digging into the small of his back.

It felt like his arms were being ripped out of their sockets as first one, then the other was jerked behind his back. Then they were handcuffed together.

His head was lifted off the floor by his hair and a police officer shouted in his face. “What’s she on?”

“What’d you give her?” shouted the other officer.

He winced in pain. It felt like his hair was about to be ripped right out of his head. He could hear the security guard calling for a doctor. “We’re going to have to pump her stomach!”

The officer abruptly let go of his hair, and his face banged against the floor. “Look,” the officer said, no longer shouting. “It would really help for us to know what kind of drugs we’re dealing with here.”

“You think it’s bad now,” said the other one. “Believe me, you do not want anything to happen to her.”

“Help us save her life!”

“What’s she on!”

Armpit managed to get a glimpse of Ginny, her body jerking around uncontrollably on the floor.

The sight of her made him lurch up, knocking both officers backward, but just for a moment. They quickly tackled him again, and then a billy club slammed against the side of his neck.

“What’s going on here?”

It was a woman’s voice.

“Stay back, Mayor, he’s all whacked out on something.”

“You don’t hit somebody who’s already on the ground, in handcuffs,” said Cherry Lane.

“He drugged that little girl.”

“She’s not on drugs!” Armpit gasped.

“Shut up!” said the officer, pushing his head against the floor.

He managed to raise his face back up. “I dug a trench at your house!” he gasped. “You said you admired me!”

The mayor leaned down with her hands on her knees to get a better look at him. Her long silver hair hung on both sides of her face. “You work for Jack Dunlevy?”

“Yes!”

“What’s wrong with the girl?”

“She’s not on drugs. I swear. She’s having a seizure.”

“He was caught with counterfeit tickets,” said one of the officers.

“Let me help her,” Armpit pleaded. “Please.”

“You think
he knew
they were counterfeit?” asked the mayor. “You think he’d sit in those seats if he knew they were counterfeit?”

“I can help her,” said Armpit.

“Let him go!” ordered the mayor.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You let him go right now, unless you want to spend the next ten years walking up and down Lamar Boulevard.”

The officer twisted Armpit’s arm extra hard as he unlocked the handcuffs. The other officer was ready with his baton.

Staying low, Armpit hurried to Ginny. Drool dripped from her mouth as her body writhed and twitched. Her eyes were wide open, but they weren’t seeing anything.

The floor was sticky with spilled drinks and popcorn.

“I’m here now, Ginny,” he said softly. “I’m here now.” He wiped the drool off her face and adjusted her glasses, which had fallen to one side.

The people and their chairs had been cleared from the area.

“Is she going to be all right?” asked the mayor.

He slipped his hand below her head, then gently lifted her up off the floor. “It’s okay now,” he whispered. He held her trembling body against his chest.

         

“Now what?” Kaira demanded. There had been some kind of disturbance out on the floor and the waiting was driving her crazy.

“Funniest thing I ever saw!” laughed Jerome Paisley as he returned to the backstage area. “This little bit of a girl, wriggling around on the floor, drooling all over herself. She looked like a goldfish that fell out of its bowl. You know how they flop around until they die?”

“You think that’s
funny
?” asked Kaira.

“The thing is, everyone thinks she’s on drugs, right? But she’s not. She was born spastic!”

“And that’s
funny
?” asked Kaira again.

“How awful,” Kaira’s mother said, although she seemed more concerned with her drink, which was now down to nothing but ice.

“See, she was with this big black dude,” El Genius explained. “The cops are beating the crap out of him while the little white girl was having a spaz attack, because they thought he gave her drugs!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s really funny!” said Kaira. God, she hated him!

“He meant unusual funny, not ha-ha funny,” explained her mother.

“That’s not how he said it.”

“It was their own fault,” said her mother’s husband. “They paid like three hundred dollars to some scalper for counterfeit tickets!” He laughed. “Some people are too stupid to live!”

“Where are they now?” asked Kaira.

“They should have the area cleared and cleaned up in about five or ten minutes. You better have Rosemary do some touch-up on your hair. It looks a little flat.”

“Where are they now?” Kaira asked again.

         

They were on a cot in the security area, surrounded by a half-dozen security and medical personnel. Armpit still held Ginny in his arms, but her attack had subsided into tears and hiccups.

The medical personnel were trained to handle drug overdoses and minor injuries, and knew very little about cerebral palsy.

“She doesn’t need to go to the hospital,” Armpit said. “She just needs space to breathe.”

A woman put her hand on Ginny’s wrist. “I’m just going to take your pulse.”

Ginny jerked her hand away.

The mayor also was there, despite repeated suggestions by the head of security that she return to her seat and enjoy the show. Out in the arena the crowd was calling for Kaira and stomping their feet. Armpit could feel the vibrations on the floor.

“You say he came at you?” the officer in charge asked one of the officers who handcuffed Armpit.

“I was reaching for the ticket!” Armpit tried to explain, then felt Ginny tremble at his sudden outburst.

“He made a threatening movement, but I was able to quickly gain control of the situation.”

“There’s no question he was resisting arrest,” said the other officer.

“His friend was having a seizure!” the mayor pointed out. “He only wanted to help her!”

“Please, Mayor. It would be better for everyone if you returned to your seat.”

“I’m not going to let you justify your actions by blaming the victim,” the mayor said firmly. “Let me ask you something,” she said, directing her attention to the officer. “Would the gesture have been so threatening if he was white?”

Armpit had to hand it to Cherry Lane. She was one tough lady.

“Instead of persecuting the victim,” the mayor went on, “you should be back out there, getting the names and phone numbers of everyone seated in that area. Somebody else may have bought tickets from the same scalper.”

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