The Fat Boy Chronicles (22 page)

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Authors: Diane Lang,Diane Lang

BOOK: The Fat Boy Chronicles
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This week we have a big math test. That really bites for Mr. L to give us a big test right before finals. I've been helping Robb and I sure hope he does better. His dad is giving him grief about his grades and his scholarship. The last time I was over there, his dad was yelling at him, saying he wasn't going to pay for college if Robb failed math. Man, that's pressure. I'm lucky I don't have to worry about passing my classes. But I bet Robb never had to worry about making any team he tried out for, so I guess we're even. Robb said he feels bad for how he treated me in PE, but I told him not to worry about it. “There've been kids way worse than you.”

“Yeah, like Nate. I should have shut that little piece of white trash up. I could have, you know. But I didn't think it bothered you that much.” He gave me a sheepish half smile. “Sorry about that, man. But next time? Just wait till he tries to pull that crap on you.”

There aren't too many kids that will speak up for someone if they don't know them. Is that something people learn when they grow up? It seems to me that it's either there or it's not. I believe that I learned how to think of others in church. My preacher talks a lot about helping those in need. And my parents do too. Some kids I see in church don't act like they should—the preacher's sermons last about as long as the walk to their car in the church parking lot.

We had a sub in history and it took about ten minutes to do my worksheet. Since I had already read the chapter, it didn't take long. One kid asked if he could go to the bathroom and he didn't come back till the end of the period. Boy, did he reek. The teacher didn't say anything but we noticed. If you don't smoke, which I don't, it's easy to tell. I couldn't ever imagine kissing a girl who smokes. I bet it would be like licking an ashtray and I'd want to puke.

Now, I'm in homeroom with no HW to do.

I think I will ask Sable if she wants to go with me to visit Paul. I'm glad she doesn't smoke.

Monday, 5–28

Today's Memorial Day, but no one feels like doing much because of Paul. And then Robb called all scared he might not graduate. “If you're not doing anything, you want to come over? I worked the problems you gave me, and I think I did them right. But I need you to watch me do them a few more times.” Dad dropped me off, and Robb's dad was supposed to take me home but my dad called and said he would pick me up. He said he thought we should visit Paul. I asked Robb if he wanted to go with us and meet Paul. He said he would, so I decided to use the time in the car to drill him on more problems.

When we got there, Robb went right up to Paul and shook his hand. “Hey, man, glad to meet you. Jimmy says you're really cool.” At first Paul acted like he didn't want Robb there but then he was okay with it. I sure wasn't going to tell Robb that he couldn't come in, so I'm glad it worked out. We wheeled Paul around the floor and talked about school and parents and the hot girls in school. Some of them on our lists matched but a lot didn't. When Robb said he thought Sable was cute, Paul looked at me and then told Robb that she was someone I liked. Robb slapped me on the shoulder and called me a “love god.” Paul thought that was so funny. Ha, ha.

Robb told Paul how sorry he was about everything and how he had a friend in elementary school who ran away, but his parents found him hiding in the barn out back of their neighbor's house. The dog kept barking and gave him away. When the dog started sniffing around the shed, it scared a rat that was living in there. The rat ran out right across the kid's foot and then he screamed and knocked cans all
over. It was pretty funny and we were all laughing. Then Robb admitted he was that kid. I think Robb will go back to the hospital with me. He has a car too.

Tuesday, 5–29

I forgot to talk about Paul's new legs in my last entry. It'll take at least six months or more for his stumps to heal, then he can get fitted for fake legs. Paul showed us some pamphlets on artificial legs and they look really cool. Totally bionic. Man, he's going to look like C–3PO from
Star Wars.
He showed me pictures of the silicone liners that go on first, then these legs made out of carbon. And there's this really awesome tube that makes the foot move. There's all these smaller components in between and the knee joint looks like something from
Terminator
3
. From what I overheard my dad and Paul's grandmother talking about, Children's Hospital is helping pay for them so he can get the good ones. He has to go through months of physical therapy, but at least he'll be able to walk again and not have to sit in a wheelchair forever. And he'll have some really cool legs, like Lieutenant Dan in
Forrest Gump
. When he gets his new legs, I'll say, “Lieutenant Paul, you've got magic legs.”

Paul said at first he didn't want to live when he woke up and realized his legs were gone. But now he feels okay about things. His doctor told him about a website and chat room for amputees called Amplife.org, and that's been a big help. He said it's unbelievable what some of the amputees can do. They play all kinds of sports and some have even qualified for the Boston Marathon. I told Paul I wouldn't
have known about all these cool things if it weren't for him. When he gets a little better, his doctor suggested he go to an in–hospital therapy group for amputees. Paul asked me if I would go to the first meeting with him. He said he might need some support, since he didn't get his legs blown off because of a war or anything, and the people there might think he's really stupid for jumping trains. I told him I'd go with him, but that no one would think he was a stupid kid. They would think he was one mixed–up, brave kid. Paul smiled when I said that.

I wanted to tell him that he thinks he's stupid because he has all of his dad's mean words still stuck inside him somewhere. But I didn't say anything, because it's too soon to disrespect the dead.

Wednesday, 5–30

I couldn't wait to get home and write this entry. Today might have been one of the best of my life. I KISSED SABLE!! Yay for Jimmy Winterpock! Actually, Sable cornered me on the stairs and kissed me but it still counts. We were going down the back stairwell at church (yes, church) when she stopped in front of me and turned around. I said, “What?” but I sort of knew “what.” Sable stepped up one step and put her arms around me. “Kiss me, Jimmy. Hurry, before someone opens the door.” And I just reacted like I'd been waiting for her to ask or something. I mean, it was great. I think I had my eyes open but I didn't on the second one. Yes! Two! Then we hustled down the stairs
and into the lobby near the youth room. Jeff, our youth minister, was standing there. He looked at me real funny. “Winterpock” was all he said, but it sounded like he was asking if I had been smooching with Sable. Then, if that wasn't bad enough, our preacher went on and on about temptation. I think he must have seen us—I couldn't even look at him during his sermon. I mean, geez, can't they leave a “love god” alone?

But you know what, kissing a girl is a natural thing. Where do you think all the people in church come from? As far as I know, there is only one virgin birth. What I'm saying is, all I did was kiss Sable. And it was nice. I can't wait to do it again. But this time, I'll go first. Could this mean that I, Not–So–Slim–Jimmy, have a girlfriend? Like Mr. L says, “I guess the planets are aligned.”

Thursday, 5–31

In science, I saw someone I used to think was pretty copying answers from the kid's test next to her. You can probably figure out who, I mean “whom,” and I don't care if she gets in trouble. My teacher can be clueless sometimes about cheating. Students will do it right in front of the teacher and not get caught. No one cheats much in English, especially if we're writing essays. But it makes me mad when they do it in science and math, because I study for hours and then they come along and get an A without doing anything. When they get a good grade, they wave it around like they did it themselves, but everyone knows they copied. It really burns me when
the teacher tells them how smart they are or if I hear them bragging about their GPA.

After class, in the hall, I told Whitney that she didn't need to cheat, she's just as smart as anybody in there. The girl next to her overheard me and said, “Who cares? As long as she gets a good grade.” Whitney giggled at me and said just because I lost weight, it didn't make me all that special. I started to say I didn't mean it that way but she said, “You know what, Jimmy, you'll always be the fat kid who tried to make out with me at the party.” She had to know how much that hurt, and I tried not to let her see it but I think she did. I just went on to class. When Allen tried to talk to me, I didn't have a lot to say.

I went to see Paul tonight. Sable and Robb went with me. We rolled Paul around the floor, just talking about school and things. Robb told us he is doing better in math and should get his scholarship to Bowling Green. That would be so cool to know someone playing college football. He said we should all come to a game. The school is somewhere in Ohio so that's not too far away. I know Dad would take us for the weekend. He enjoys ball games.

Next year, I'm going to some of our football games, now that I have Sable to sit with. Maybe Dad will go too. He used to play in high school; I think it was on the line, maybe a tackle.

You will not believe what happened at the hospital. I can't believe I forgot to tell you this first. We were pushing Paul up and down the halls and we ended up in the waiting area and one of the funniest, scariest things I have ever seen happened. An old lady was sitting in there, and there was a bunch of kids also. A big table was in front of her. When we walked by, she looked up and then kind of leaned
forward and jumped at us, but she had her hand over her eye. Next, I heard a thud on the table and the lady yelped like a dog and started reaching for this ball rolling across the table. The ball was her eye! It had fallen right out of her head. And the kids sitting there started screaming and this old lady was bent over, chasing her eye across the floor. We all froze and then Sable yelled, which made me jump out of my shoes. Finally, the old lady stopped it with her foot and took it over to the water fountain and washed it off. Then she pushed it back in and just went back and sat down. It all happened real fast. Paul laughed so hard I thought we were going to have to call a doctor. It was pretty funny. I am surprised some of those little kids sitting there didn't have a heart attack.

Saturday, 6–2

Sable is much better. I think she's finally listening to her counselors.

I wasn't in your class yesterday, because I had to go to the doctor. The visit turned out to be pretty good. The nurse put me in this room and I waited forever. I got cold in there. Finally, Dr. Weber came in the door, examining my chart. He looked up and instead of saying anything, he checked the name on the folder. “Jimmy Winterpock?”

That made me feel good and I said, “Yep, it's really me. Or what's left of me.”

“It says here you were sixty pounds heavier in November. What happened to you?”

I told him how I started running and working out with my dad.

“Working out?” Dr. Weber stared at me for a minute. Then he said, “Jimmy, is there something wrong?”

I said no, nothing is wrong. But he didn't believe me, because he called my dad in from the waiting room. Dad told him the whole story, or most of it.

Then the doctor checked my heart and listened to my lungs and poked my knee and all the other things they do.

Before we left, he told me I was in great health. Well, maybe not great but so much better than I had been. “Why? How?” he asked. I told him it was because he said I would be fat forever. And then I told him some of the things kids said to me. And how much it hurt and how they treated Allen. I said I didn't want to be Not–So–Slim–Jimmy forever and that I wanted to go to a football game and not be laughed at. And how I didn't want to die young. And a lot of other things that happened this year.

I think Dr. Weber had tears in his eyes, and so did my dad. Then Dr. Weber put his hand on my shoulder and said he didn't know many adults who had as much discipline as I had. He said if I could do this, I could do anything in life. “You must have gone through a lot,” he said.

I laughed at that and said, “You have no idea.”

I guess I should be proud of all the weight I lost, but it seems easy now that I look back. It's hard to understand how I could have ever been the kid who ate all the time. But it was me. I could tell that by all the clothes I gave to Goodwill. Even my shoe size is different. When I ask Mom about all the money she had to spend on new stuff
for me, she says she's not sure if it was worth it. Then she laughs and smiles. My sister is different, a little. She still finds other things to complain about, thinking it's her job to point out any cracks in my armor. Dad is real proud of me. All the working out we did helped him too. I guess we all got better in some way.

Monday, 6–4

Math class was super today. Nate must have decided that since the year is almost over, he's running out of “pick–on–Jimmy” time. Mr. L was up at the board working another problem in his most boring voice, when a paper ball hit me in the head. I looked over at Nate and he was smiling. I picked up the paper and opened it. “I miss your boobs!” was written on it. And of course, that's when Mr. L decided to notice me. He asked me what I was doing. I didn't feel like covering for Nate anymore, so I said I was reading a note that Nate had thrown at me. Mr. L looked over at Nate and gave him a mean look. Nate got all upset and said, “Jimmy is lying, the big fat loser.”

Mr. L started to write on the board, then changed his mind and put down the marker. He turned around and walked over to Nate's desk. Everyone got real quiet, even Nate. Mr. L said, “I think not. I believe that you, Nate, are the biggest loser.” Everyone in class started clapping. Nate sputtered for everyone to stop. Then he told the class to “piss off.” Mr. L walked over to the intercom button and pushed it. When the office responded, Mr. L said he had an unruly
student who needed to be removed. In a minute or two, an officer (I still don't know his name) came down and took Nate away. Wow! What a day! I just hope I don't get pounded on by Nate tomorrow. But, you know, it probably would be worth it.

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