Nobody wants to mistreat somebodyand then find out he went home and tried to kill himself. It’s too weird. It’s like if Will had some kind of brittle-bone disease. Everybody would leave him alone so they wouldn’t have to feel guilty when he shattered into a thousand pieces.
That was my theory, anyway. But I didn’t share it with Will.
But maybe I should have.
But, first off, I could be wrong. Or maybe it was both things, I don’t know. Plus why not be supportive? Why rain on his parade?
Besides, Will’s confidence was a good thing. Will’s confidence was my salvation. Well. My best shot at it, anyway. My best long shot.
January 4 th
I didn’t bring my journal up to Uncle Max’s cabin. I wanted to. I really did. And I missed having it there. There were a dozen times I’d have given my right arm to be able to write our whole day down. But I left it home, because of Will.
See, I’d promised Will I’d keep certain secrets. And I thought it might make him nervous if he knew everything was written down somewhere. Like somebody might find it and read it or something. So I just let the journal be my little secret.
But now I have to go back and try to remember everything that happened and write it all down. Before I forget it forever.
I’ll start with the day we celebrated Christmas. It wasn’t really Christmas, it was really Saturday the twentieth. The plan was that my mom would drive Will and me up to Uncle Max’s house in Lemoore, and we’d all celebrate Christmas early, and then she’d go home and we’d drive up to the cabin the next day.
But there was a flaw in the plan. Will showed up empty-handed.
I don’t mean he didn’t have clothes and gear. He did. Two suitcases and plenty of outdoor wear and warm stuff. He even brought two of his dad’s hunting rifles. And Sampson. Well, he had to bring Sampson. There’d be nobody home to take care of him. So he brought tons of stuff, but no presents. His mom hadn’t even bothered to send him with any presents. Here we were driving up there to have an early Christmas dinner and open presents. And everybody would have presents to open but Will.
I pulled my mom aside and asked her about it. Before we left our house. She said she felt bad for him, but she couldn’t really do anything about it, because she’d gotten me one big present instead of a few little ones. She asked if I had something I could give him, but I said Will and I had already agreed not to get presents for each other, because we really don’t have much money, and the vacation together is kind of a giant present anyway.
So we just drove up there, still not knowing what we’d do.
When we got to Uncle Max’s house, he was makingChristmas dinner. Roast turkey with cranberry sauce and green beans and salad. And fresh fruit salad with chopped pecans sprinkled on top for dessert.
My mom walked around the kitchen and looked at everything. Like if she just looked hard enough, she would find where all the rest of the dinner was hiding.
“Well,” she said. “That looks very … healthy.”
You could tell she didn’t get it, and Uncle Max shot me a bad look. He gave me this look that said, Oh, Ernie. You still haven’t told her.
He was right. I still hadn’t told her.
Right before dinner he pulled me aside into his den. I thought he was going to ream me out for not telling my mom I was trying to lose weight. Or wanting to lose weight, anyway. Not really doing so hot, but wanting to. But it was nothing about that.
He took two wrapped presents out of the big oak chest in the corner of his den. Set them down on his writing desk. We both stared at them like we expected them to do something.
“Lila tells me Will’s mother didn’t get him anything. And that’s a problem, right? So let’s just say for the sake of conversation that one of these presents is for Will.” I picked one up and looked at the gift tag. It said, “To Ernie, from Uncle Max.” I picked up the other one. It
That was my theory, anyway. But I didn’t share it with Will.
But maybe I should have.
But, first off, I could be wrong. Or maybe it was both things, I don’t know. Plus why not be supportive? Why rain on his parade?
Besides, Will’s confidence was a good thing. Will’s confidence was my salvation. Well. My best shot at it, anyway. My best long shot.
January 4 th
I didn’t bring my journal up to Uncle Max’s cabin. I wanted to. I really did. And I missed having it there. There were a dozen times I’d have given my right arm to be able to write our whole day down. But I left it home, because of Will.
See, I’d promised Will I’d keep certain secrets. And I thought it might make him nervous if he knew everything was written down somewhere. Like somebody might find it and read it or something. So I just let the journal be my little secret.
But now I have to go back and try to remember everything that happened and write it all down. Before I forget it forever.
I’ll start with the day we celebrated Christmas. It wasn’t really Christmas, it was really Saturday the twentieth. The plan was that my mom would drive Will and me up to Uncle Max’s house in Lemoore, and we’d all celebrate Christmas early, and then she’d go home and we’d drive up to the cabin the next day.
But there was a flaw in the plan. Will showed up empty-handed.
I don’t mean he didn’t have clothes and gear. He did. Two suitcases and plenty of outdoor wear and warm stuff. He even brought two of his dad’s hunting rifles. And Sampson. Well, he had to bring Sampson. There’d be nobody home to take care of him. So he brought tons of stuff, but no presents. His mom hadn’t even bothered to send him with any presents. Here we were driving up there to have an early Christmas dinner and open presents. And everybody would have presents to open but Will.
I pulled my mom aside and asked her about it. Before we left our house. She said she felt bad for him, but she couldn’t really do anything about it, because she’d gotten me one big present instead of a few little ones. She asked if I had something I could give him, but I said Will and I had already agreed not to get presents for each other, because we really don’t have much money, and the vacation together is kind of a giant present anyway.
So we just drove up there, still not knowing what we’d do.
When we got to Uncle Max’s house, he was makingChristmas dinner. Roast turkey with cranberry sauce and green beans and salad. And fresh fruit salad with chopped pecans sprinkled on top for dessert.
My mom walked around the kitchen and looked at everything. Like if she just looked hard enough, she would find where all the rest of the dinner was hiding.
“Well,” she said. “That looks very … healthy.”
You could tell she didn’t get it, and Uncle Max shot me a bad look. He gave me this look that said, Oh, Ernie. You still haven’t told her.
He was right. I still hadn’t told her.
Right before dinner he pulled me aside into his den. I thought he was going to ream me out for not telling my mom I was trying to lose weight. Or wanting to lose weight, anyway. Not really doing so hot, but wanting to. But it was nothing about that.
He took two wrapped presents out of the big oak chest in the corner of his den. Set them down on his writing desk. We both stared at them like we expected them to do something.
“Lila tells me Will’s mother didn’t get him anything. And that’s a problem, right? So let’s just say for the sake of conversation that one of these presents is for Will.” I picked one up and looked at the gift tag. It said, “To Ernie, from Uncle Max.” I picked up the other one. It
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