The Mighty Quinn (8 page)

Quinn asked Tay and Sam to buddy up, but Tay said he was joining Matt and Josh. Sam scooted his desk closer to Quinn's, and invited Neally to do the same.

“Why don't we ask Teena?” Neally suggested.

“What—no!” Sam shushed Neally. “She won't come, anyway. She likes to eat alone.”

Neally turned to glance at Teena, who was pulling
plastic bags out of a crumpled paper sack and humming to herself. “Would you two like to come over to my house after school?” Neally asked Quinn and Sam. “I asked my dad; it's okay.” Neally reached into her lunch bag and took out a sandwich that looked like a Frisbee cut in half. “I have two Siamese cats, Yin and Yang.”

Sam's eyes widened. “My sisters love cats. But we can't have any; my dad's allergic.”

“So's my mom,” Quinn said. “But her dad used to have a Siamese cat.” Quinn pointed at Neally's sandwich. “What's that?”

“Pita bread. See how it opens, like a pocket? You can stuff anything in it.” Neally held the sandwich up to her nose. “Dad went for tuna salad today. What was your grandpa's cat named?”

“Jade. She lived to be eighteen, which is old for a cat. After Jade died, Grandma bought a little statue of a Siamese cat. Grandpa put it up on the mantle, next to the other statues.”

“What other statues?” Neally asked.

“My grandpa has this really cool collection.” Quinn fingered his own peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich, which seemed dull compared to Neally's. He wondered if she would offer him a bite if he asked to try the pita bread.

“Swap-o-rama!” Sam put half of his turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich on Quinn's desk and took half
of Quinn's sandwich. “Tell her about the fat naked guys.” Sam crammed almost the entire half of Quinn's sandwich into his mouth.

Neally's raised her eyebrows. “Yes, do tell.”

“They're not naked, they're Buddhas.” Quinn fake-punched Sam in the shoulder. “Buddhas aren't naked, they just don't wear shirts.”

“Only diapers,” Sam said, “so you can see their fat naked bellies.”

“Loincloths,” Quinn insisted. “They wear loincloths.”

“Quinn's Grandpa Lee is from China,” Sam said to Neally.

“No, my Grandpa Lee's
parents
were from China. I've told you a giga-billion times: Grandpa Lee was born in Ohio.”

“Ohio, China; same diff.” Sam took a sheet of paper and a pencil from his desk and drew a picture of a broadly grinning, bald, fat man sitting cross-legged with a towel around his waist.

“That's the Laughing Buddha!” Neally exclaimed.

“Yeah,” Quinn said. “How'd you know that?”

“My parents hang pictures of the world's great
leaders on our living room wall. We've got books about them too. Statues or pictures of the Buddha often show him smiling or laughing. I looked it up, and ...”

“Oooooh, Sam's drawing evil devil comics.” Matt Barker had crept up behind Sam's desk. “The devil has many disguises,” he said, sounding like a Halloween goblin.

“It isn't a devil,” Neally said coolly. “Haven't you ever seen a Buddha?”

“If it's not God then it's an idol, or a devil,” Matt insisted. “Not only that, it's a fat devil. It's the fattest Satan ever.” Matt grabbed Sam's pencil and drew horns on the Buddha's head.

“Horns should taper at the end, be pointier,” Sam said. “Like this.” Matt gave Sam the pencil, and Sam corrected Matt's additions to his picture.

“Yo, Sam.” Matt acted like Quinn and Neally were invisible. “You owe us a buddy lunch. We're gonna play with Tay's new GameBox.”

Matt returned to his desk, passing by Teena Freeman, who was spinning her hair with one hand and dancing a carrot stick across her desk with her other hand.

“A hush falls over the crowd as Famous Carrot Diver approaches the ten meter board.” Teena spoke barely above a whisper. “Suddenly, in an obvious attempt to influence the judges, Famous Apple Diver insists on
going first.” Teena walked an apple slice up her arm to her shoulder and dropped the slice into her open carton of milk.

“What a pathetic retard,” Matt sneered.

Neally glared at Matt.

“'Scuse me,” Matt said. “I mean, what a mentally challenged individual.”

“Cut it out, Matt,” Quinn mumbled.

“Yeah, I'll cut it out. I'll cut out half my brain and then I'll be like her.” Matt pointed at Teena, who was swirling her apple slice in her milk carton and muttering to herself. “You need some filling in,” Matt said to Neally. “She's got no father. And her loser mom ...”

“Everyone has a father,” Neally said.

“Not everyone. Her father is in jail.”

“How do you know that?”

“Everyone knows. My dad told my mom.” Matt looked over Neally's head, his eyes focusing on the wall behind her. His eyes began to glaze over, and he spoke slowly, as if trying to recall lines he'd had to memorize from a play in the third grade. “Teena's from a single-parent family, which is always bad news for society. Too many kids, and who knows where or who all their fathers are. Her dad's in jail for selling drugs. Her parents did drugs when Teena's mom had her, which is why ...” Matt circled his finger by the side of his head. He turned toward his desk, motioning for Sam to follow him.

“I owe Josh two buddy lunches. I promised.” Sam looked apologetically at Quinn. “Meet you for some four square at recess?”

Quinn tried to act nonchalant. “Sure.”

“I'll see about after school,” Sam said to Neally. “I can come over if my homework's done; that's the rule. My sisters will be so jealous when they find out I get to see Siamese cats.”

Neally's eyes resembled those of a stalking lion as she watched Sam join Matt and Tay and Josh. “A Buddha is a devil-idol? It should hurt—it should be painful—to be that stupid. If you say something that brainless, the last word out of your mouth should bite your tongue because it's embarrassed to come out. Wouldn't that be awesome?”

Quinn grinned as a vision of Matt Barker's tongue being shredded by a pack of wiener dogs popped into his head. The fantasy faded, and he felt he needed to stick up for his friend.

“Sam's in a Boy Scout troop with Matt and Tay, so he has to get along with Matt. He's doesn't really like Josh, either, but their moms work in the same ...”

“Yes, yes, I get it.” Neally loudly bit off the end of a carrot stick. “How long have you known Tay?”

“Since kindergarten. His house is around the corner from ours, and our moms used to walk us to school together.”

“So, he's like a habit.”

“A habit?” Quinn sat up very straight in his chair.

“He seems kind of ...” The stalking-feline look returned to Neally's eyes. “I just don't see you two as friends.”

“Well, we are.”

“But Sam is your best friend?”

“That's right.” Quinn nodded.

“I don't like the term, ‘best friend.' It sounds silly, to rank people that way. But I know that's how other people feel.”

“Other people?”

The stalking-cat look disappeared. Neally stared blankly at Quinn, who wondered if Neally realized that she sounded stuck-up.

“What did Matt mean about there being too many kids in Teena's family?” Neally asked.

Quinn looked around the room and leaned closer to Neally. “Like
he
should talk about
other
people having too many kids,” he whispered. “Have you seen Matt's mother?”

“Yep. I saw her drop Matt off this morning.” Neally held her hands out in front of her, as if she were balancing an enormous beach ball on her stomach.

Quinn quickly glanced toward Matt's desk. “She's always pregnant, and he already has four or five brothers and sisters.”

“Five?” Neally gasped. “Plus Matt? No way.”

“Way!”

“They're having another?” Neally shuddered. “Don't they know about overpopulation?”

Although Quinn wasn't sure what Neally meant, he assumed it must be wickedly funny. “Yeah, don't they?” he snickered.

“What do Matt's parents do? Wait, I already know his mom's a baby-o-matic. What's up with his dad?”

“God only knows.” Quinn nearly choked on his apple. He'd made a clever remark, and wanted Neally to realize that. “His dad's a minister,” Quinn explained.

“I get it—nice one!”

“Actually, it's kind of a backwards joke. My mom tells it better: it's not that God knows all about Matt's dad, but Matt's dad knows all about God.”

“Oh,” Neally said slowly, “now I
really
get it.”

“Do you know what Matt said about Lily L'Sotho, after he found out that both her parents are pastors? His dad met Lily's mom and dad at Back to School night. The next day at recess ...” Quinn leaned forward in his chair and lowered his voice. “Matt said his dad told him that Lily's parents aren't real pastors, and their church isn't a real church.” Quinn shook his head. “Matt never even talks to Lily, and then the one time he says something about her family, he's mean.”

“Matt was mean to someone? Big surprise.” Neally yawned. “But why would Matt's dad say Lily's church isn't a real church?”

“I don't know. It isn't
his
church, I guess. Oh yeah, this is even weirder: Matt's dad said that both of Lily's parents can't be the pastors of their church, only Lily's dad can lead their church.”

“Wait a second. Matt's dad says he can decide who can be the pastor of someone else's church, the same church that he says isn't a
real
church? Uh huh.”

Quinn giggled. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.”

“Is Lily's mom a pastor?” Neally asked.

Quinn nodded.

“Well then, if she already is one, than she
can
be one. There!” Neally assumed a British accent. “I've run rings 'round him logically!”

“Okay.” Quinn scratched his head, “Lily's mom can be a pastor. But not in Matt's church.”

“As if anyone would
want
to be a pastor in such a snobby church,” Neally sniffed.

“Yeah.” Quinn took a bite of his sandwich. It was the best peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich ever. “As
if
.”

“Neally Standwell! Neally Standwell!”

Mickey ran to the tetherball court, where Quinn, Sam, and Neally stood in line behind Kelsey King.

“How are you, Neally Standwell?” Mickey gushed.

“I'm very well, thank you, Mickey Andrews-Lee,” Neally replied.

“Can you come to our house after school? Can she, Quinn? We have Alice and Peppy—my rat and Quinn's hamster. I have swim practice but not 'til later. We could have snacks and ...”

“I'm going to Neally's house after school,” Quinn said.