mother?” he asked.
“My mother,” I said.
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but just nodded. “Okay then.” He pushed himself out of the chair with his hands. “We’ll be meeting twice a week,” he said.
“Right.” Mom had scheduled appointments for me into infinity. I didn’t want to have to cry my eyes out twice a week, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. I stood up and gave him what felt like a dopey smile as I walked past him to the door.
It would have been going too far to say I liked him, but I could have sworn he didn’t look as fat when I left as he did when I arrived.
Chapter Eleven
Andy
I HATED POLICE CARS. MOM SAID I WAS JUST SCARED OF THEM because one night a police car took me to jail. So when the police lady wanted me to ride with her to Wal-Mart, I said no. Mom told her I should practice driving, so we’d take our car instead. Mom was being a quick thinker!
I had a cushion thing I put on the driver seat so I could see good through the window. I kept waiting to get taller but it wasn’t happening. Kimmie was taller than me, but she didn’t care. Some girls cared about that but Uncle Marcus said who’d want a girl who cared about something so trivial? Which meant not very important.
I was an excellent driver. We were supposed to follow the police car, so I tried to keep looking at it, but I had trouble.
“You’re losing her, sweetie,” Mom said.
My speedometer thing said thirty-five. “She’s going too fast.”
Mom laughed. “You’re right. You take your time. We’ll catch up to her at the Wal-Mart.”
We came to the corner I hated. There was no light but a lot of cars. I had to look a lot of different ways and wait and wait. A car behind me honked.
“Take your time,” Mom said.
The car honked again. I didn’t know whether to stay stopped or go.
“Brain,” I said. “You gotta stay focused!”
“That’s right,” Mom said. “Ignore that silly horn.”
Finally, when I was really, really sure it was safe, I drove across the street. Then we were at the Wal-Mart, where I got to practice parking between the lines. I was good at that, except for Mom couldn’t get out and I had to do it again.
The police lady leaned against a brick thing with her arms folded. “Thought I lost you,” she said. She was pretty old. She had on a hat, but I saw her gray hair underneath it.
“You went over the speed limit,” I said.
She laughed. “I probably did. Better write myself a ticket.”
“Yup,” I said. “We can wait.”
But she didn’t write herself a ticket at all. Police can get away with things regular people can’t.
Inside, we walked to the place where the pots and pans were. The police lady told me to look at all the boxes to see if any of them looked like the one Miss Sara carried. I thought I remembered it perfect. It was red with a big silver pot on it. But when I saw all the different boxes, I got confused.
“Maybe it was blue.” I pointed to a blue box. Then I saw a yellowy one with a funny pan on it, and my memory said that was it. “I think it was this one,” I said.
“That’s an electric wok,” the police lady said. “I thought you said it was a big pot?”
“What’s an electric rock?” I asked Mom.
“Wok,” she said. “It’s a kind of pan. Is that what it looked like?”
I moved my mouth back and forth like I did when I was thinking hard. I felt so mixed up with all those boxes. Maybe it wasn’t even a pot at all. I pointed to a red box that had a white square bowl thing on it. “Maybe it was that one,” I said.
“A casserole?” Mom asked.
I shook my head, because casseroles had lots of different food in them. I didn’t like them. I didn’t like food to touch.
“Memories can play tricks on you sometimes, can’t they?” Mom said. It was her patient voice.
“Can you narrow it down, Andy?” the police lady asked.
I wasn’t sure what “narrow it down” meant.
“Are there any you’re absolutely sure
“My mother,” I said.
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but just nodded. “Okay then.” He pushed himself out of the chair with his hands. “We’ll be meeting twice a week,” he said.
“Right.” Mom had scheduled appointments for me into infinity. I didn’t want to have to cry my eyes out twice a week, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. I stood up and gave him what felt like a dopey smile as I walked past him to the door.
It would have been going too far to say I liked him, but I could have sworn he didn’t look as fat when I left as he did when I arrived.
Chapter Eleven
Andy
I HATED POLICE CARS. MOM SAID I WAS JUST SCARED OF THEM because one night a police car took me to jail. So when the police lady wanted me to ride with her to Wal-Mart, I said no. Mom told her I should practice driving, so we’d take our car instead. Mom was being a quick thinker!
I had a cushion thing I put on the driver seat so I could see good through the window. I kept waiting to get taller but it wasn’t happening. Kimmie was taller than me, but she didn’t care. Some girls cared about that but Uncle Marcus said who’d want a girl who cared about something so trivial? Which meant not very important.
I was an excellent driver. We were supposed to follow the police car, so I tried to keep looking at it, but I had trouble.
“You’re losing her, sweetie,” Mom said.
My speedometer thing said thirty-five. “She’s going too fast.”
Mom laughed. “You’re right. You take your time. We’ll catch up to her at the Wal-Mart.”
We came to the corner I hated. There was no light but a lot of cars. I had to look a lot of different ways and wait and wait. A car behind me honked.
“Take your time,” Mom said.
The car honked again. I didn’t know whether to stay stopped or go.
“Brain,” I said. “You gotta stay focused!”
“That’s right,” Mom said. “Ignore that silly horn.”
Finally, when I was really, really sure it was safe, I drove across the street. Then we were at the Wal-Mart, where I got to practice parking between the lines. I was good at that, except for Mom couldn’t get out and I had to do it again.
The police lady leaned against a brick thing with her arms folded. “Thought I lost you,” she said. She was pretty old. She had on a hat, but I saw her gray hair underneath it.
“You went over the speed limit,” I said.
She laughed. “I probably did. Better write myself a ticket.”
“Yup,” I said. “We can wait.”
But she didn’t write herself a ticket at all. Police can get away with things regular people can’t.
Inside, we walked to the place where the pots and pans were. The police lady told me to look at all the boxes to see if any of them looked like the one Miss Sara carried. I thought I remembered it perfect. It was red with a big silver pot on it. But when I saw all the different boxes, I got confused.
“Maybe it was blue.” I pointed to a blue box. Then I saw a yellowy one with a funny pan on it, and my memory said that was it. “I think it was this one,” I said.
“That’s an electric wok,” the police lady said. “I thought you said it was a big pot?”
“What’s an electric rock?” I asked Mom.
“Wok,” she said. “It’s a kind of pan. Is that what it looked like?”
I moved my mouth back and forth like I did when I was thinking hard. I felt so mixed up with all those boxes. Maybe it wasn’t even a pot at all. I pointed to a red box that had a white square bowl thing on it. “Maybe it was that one,” I said.
“A casserole?” Mom asked.
I shook my head, because casseroles had lots of different food in them. I didn’t like them. I didn’t like food to touch.
“Memories can play tricks on you sometimes, can’t they?” Mom said. It was her patient voice.
“Can you narrow it down, Andy?” the police lady asked.
I wasn’t sure what “narrow it down” meant.
“Are there any you’re absolutely sure
Similar Books
