said, “I dunno — AIDS?”
Dad put both hands over his face and sat quietly. That surprised me. Why did they always take everything so seriously? I looked at Darren and lifted an eyebrow. Then he surprised me too.
“I don’t think AIDS is funny, Dime,” he said.
“Okay.” Now I was going red. As usual, everything was horrible because I was there. I took another loud slurp of my coffee.
“We’ve been talking about you moving in with me,” Darren said.
“For real?” I gasped.
I glanced at Mom and Dad. They were both staring silently at the table.
“What do you think?” Darren asked.
“Tell me when!” I was grinning ear to ear.
“Like now. Today,” Darren said.
I put down my coffee and answered without thinking twice. “I’m packing!” I said.
“You’ll have to cook,” Darren warned.
“It’s a deal,” I grinned and kissed him on my way out of the kitchen.
I didn’t look at either of my parents.
Chapter Two
When I got to my room, I started throwing stuff into garbage bags. I wanted to be out of the house before my parents could change their minds. When I really want to clean out a room, things can disappear fast. I shoved my stuffed rabbit, some CDs, underwear and my cowboy boots into the same bag. Then I picked up my photo album.
Something made me stop what I wasdoing and flip through it. There were the family pictures from our trip to Niagara Falls and Ottawa when I was eleven. We sure knew how to smile for the camera. It was the only time we looked as if we liked each other. But that trip had been before Darren had broken his neck. We’d all gotten along better back then. I flipped to the front page of the photo album and smiled. It had my favorite picture — one of me laughing with Dad when I was five. Back then, we’d lived in a small town near Winnipeg called Gimli.
Then came the pictures of Darren in the hospital as he recovered. He’d been flown to Winnipeg. My parents had camped out in the hospital parking lot in our motor home for seven weeks. They’d been with him every day. I’d stayed with my grandparents, even though I was the one who’d gone through the car crash with him.
I decided to take the photo album with me. I’d keep it somewhere out of sight, like under the bed. Before I went downstairs, I pushed open my bedroom window and gave aTarzan yell. Then I dragged my three garbage bags out the front door and down the ramp. Dad had built one at each door for Darren’s chair. I put the bags in the back of Darren’s van, then walked back into the house. What would saying goodbye be like? A funeral? A boxing match?
It turned out to be another two-mouth lecture.
“You listen to your brother and don’t give him any trouble,” Mom said.
“I don’t want to hear about you coming in at all hours,” Dad said.
“You make sure you cook the food Darren likes. Not hamburgers all the time for yourself,” Mom got in.
“And do your homework. It’s about time you passed something,” Dad added.
“Yeah, bye,” I said. It felt like time to get out of there.
Mom gave Darren a kiss. Dad told him, “Take care of yourself.”
At the door, I thought all I was going to get was The Glare. Then Mom sortof moaned and gave me a hug. I’ve always liked hugs from Mom. She smelled nice and it made me feel like her little kid again. It was about the only time, for a couple of seconds, that we got along. I hugged her back quickly, then let go. Dad just looked at me and shook his head as if he was dizzy … or out of it.
“I’ll pass every class — you’ll see,” I told him. Then I climbed into the passenger seat of Darren’s van.
Darren got himself settled behind the wheel and we drove off. Freedom , I thought, and put my nose ring back in. Just to let Darren know he wasn’t going to run my life either.
“Dad and I cleaned out my study for your bedroom,” Darren said as he drove along Portage Avenue.
“When was this?” I asked, going stiff.
“A couple of
Dad put both hands over his face and sat quietly. That surprised me. Why did they always take everything so seriously? I looked at Darren and lifted an eyebrow. Then he surprised me too.
“I don’t think AIDS is funny, Dime,” he said.
“Okay.” Now I was going red. As usual, everything was horrible because I was there. I took another loud slurp of my coffee.
“We’ve been talking about you moving in with me,” Darren said.
“For real?” I gasped.
I glanced at Mom and Dad. They were both staring silently at the table.
“What do you think?” Darren asked.
“Tell me when!” I was grinning ear to ear.
“Like now. Today,” Darren said.
I put down my coffee and answered without thinking twice. “I’m packing!” I said.
“You’ll have to cook,” Darren warned.
“It’s a deal,” I grinned and kissed him on my way out of the kitchen.
I didn’t look at either of my parents.
Chapter Two
When I got to my room, I started throwing stuff into garbage bags. I wanted to be out of the house before my parents could change their minds. When I really want to clean out a room, things can disappear fast. I shoved my stuffed rabbit, some CDs, underwear and my cowboy boots into the same bag. Then I picked up my photo album.
Something made me stop what I wasdoing and flip through it. There were the family pictures from our trip to Niagara Falls and Ottawa when I was eleven. We sure knew how to smile for the camera. It was the only time we looked as if we liked each other. But that trip had been before Darren had broken his neck. We’d all gotten along better back then. I flipped to the front page of the photo album and smiled. It had my favorite picture — one of me laughing with Dad when I was five. Back then, we’d lived in a small town near Winnipeg called Gimli.
Then came the pictures of Darren in the hospital as he recovered. He’d been flown to Winnipeg. My parents had camped out in the hospital parking lot in our motor home for seven weeks. They’d been with him every day. I’d stayed with my grandparents, even though I was the one who’d gone through the car crash with him.
I decided to take the photo album with me. I’d keep it somewhere out of sight, like under the bed. Before I went downstairs, I pushed open my bedroom window and gave aTarzan yell. Then I dragged my three garbage bags out the front door and down the ramp. Dad had built one at each door for Darren’s chair. I put the bags in the back of Darren’s van, then walked back into the house. What would saying goodbye be like? A funeral? A boxing match?
It turned out to be another two-mouth lecture.
“You listen to your brother and don’t give him any trouble,” Mom said.
“I don’t want to hear about you coming in at all hours,” Dad said.
“You make sure you cook the food Darren likes. Not hamburgers all the time for yourself,” Mom got in.
“And do your homework. It’s about time you passed something,” Dad added.
“Yeah, bye,” I said. It felt like time to get out of there.
Mom gave Darren a kiss. Dad told him, “Take care of yourself.”
At the door, I thought all I was going to get was The Glare. Then Mom sortof moaned and gave me a hug. I’ve always liked hugs from Mom. She smelled nice and it made me feel like her little kid again. It was about the only time, for a couple of seconds, that we got along. I hugged her back quickly, then let go. Dad just looked at me and shook his head as if he was dizzy … or out of it.
“I’ll pass every class — you’ll see,” I told him. Then I climbed into the passenger seat of Darren’s van.
Darren got himself settled behind the wheel and we drove off. Freedom , I thought, and put my nose ring back in. Just to let Darren know he wasn’t going to run my life either.
“Dad and I cleaned out my study for your bedroom,” Darren said as he drove along Portage Avenue.
“When was this?” I asked, going stiff.
“A couple of
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