Joey Pigza Loses Control by Jack Gantos

good for getting things started. I stood in place by the bus stop and spun around in circles, faster and faster, with my finger pointing straight out like I was the spinner on a game board of downtown Pittsburgh. When I screeched to a
stop I opened my eyes and followed my finger down the road.
    I hadn’t gone all that far when I saw a video game arcade. Okay, Joey Pigza, I said to myself, if you are going to lose it, this is the place that will send you around the bend. I went inside and changed half of the five dollars Dad gave me into tokens and took a seat in the race car booth. I thought I would practice my high-speed driving before Dad put me behind the wheel again. I slipped the money in, gripped the wheel, and pressed on the gas. My car peeled out and instantly I started whizzing around a track with a dozen other Indy cars. We smashed into each other. I spun out and hit a wall. I ran off the road into the bales of hay. I scattered the mechanics as I roared through my pit. Finally, I ran out of time and my car slowed down. YOU ARE OUT OF FUEL read the screen. I put more money in and pressed the gas. I didn’t care if I won the race or not. It was fun just to swerve like a maniac all over the track and have the other drivers shake their fists at me as I sideswiped them. After I forced one car into the stands, it burst into a ball of flame and sent the fans screaming for the exit. For a moment I wondered if I was the one who was out of control. “Relax, it’s just a game,” I said to myself. By then I was out of tokens, so I hopped up and walked outside. I must be doing okay, I thought. Usually when I’m in an arcade I’m running from machine
to machine and playing everything until I’m totally broke and then I look all over the floor for dropped money, and check the coin returns, and tip machines forward to look under them, and pester the arcade attendant for free tokens until he flips me a few and when I ask for a few more he boots me out because it is obvious that I’m an out-of-control pest.
    But I didn’t go manic and spend everything. I had my fun. I spent my limit. And I walked away with total self-control. Maybe Dad is right, I thought. I don’t need the patch. I just need to act like a man.
    I was so excited about feeling good I wanted to call Mom. Most of the pay phones were on outside street corners and the car horns were louder than my trumpet, so I went into a department store and found a phone booth by the snack bar. I put in a quarter from Mom’s phone money and dialed her number. The operator came on and told me to deposit “three dollars for the first three minutes.” I did, but the telephone rang and rang until after I counted twenty rings I figured she wasn’t there unless she was in the shower, so I let it ring twenty more times. I hung up, got all my quarters back, and then I called the beauty parlor.
    â€œBeauty and the Beast,” Tiffany, the receptionist, answered. “Can I help you?”
    â€œIt’s me, Joey,” I said. “Is my mom there?”
    â€œShe’s on vacation,” Tiffany replied. “Said she needed a few days to herself.”

    â€œWhere’d she go?” I asked, and I could feel my chest getting tight.
    â€œDidn’t say. Maybe Mexico.”
    â€œMexico? She doesn’t know anyone in Mexico. She doesn’t even like Mexican food. Why’d she go there?”
    â€œIt’s just a guess, Joey. Now hold for a minute,” she said, “I’ve got another call.”
    Mexico? I thought. Why there? Why didn’t she tell me? And I could feel myself getting all twisted up inside like when bad things do happen. Maybe Dad told her I wanted to stay with him and instead of getting mad she decided to run off and celebrate. Suddenly the operator came on and told me to put more money in the phone so I just hung up and told myself to calm down. Maybe Mom went down to Mexico to get