Living with Jackie Chan (9 page)

Dave:
c&c finally did it. stud!


So, Caleb finally had sex with his girlfriend, Corinne, and instead of telling me, he complains about senior year. Interesting. But I know why he didn’t tell me. So whatever.

Mom:
we’re coming 2 get u 4 winter break. cant wait!


Back up.
We
again? And, they’re coming to get me?

I don’t think so.

Luckily, Larry agrees. He asked me a while ago what my plans were for the holidays, and I said I didn’t know, but that I really didn’t want to go home. Christmas at my house isn’t exactly merry and bright. Normally it consists of my mom leaving the fake tree out with a box of ornaments next to it along with a note for me and my dad to “get festive.” And then my dad pulling out a twelve-pack and sitting on the couch while I throw a few ornaments on the limp branches before giving up and having a beer with him. So, yeah. I’m pretty sure they can handle the holidays without me.

Larry says this is my journey, and if I think staying away is important, then I should. Mainly, I think he wants me here because Arielle is going away for the holidays to visit family and he doesn’t want to be alone. Either way, I’m glad he’s on my side.

Now I just have to explain it to my parents.

The thing is, when I can get into the routine here, I can forget about there. I spend every day focusing on school, and every night focusing on karate. Stella zipped up to yellow belt with me really fast, and then the two of us moved up to blue and now green. Larry thinks if we keep at it, we could make brown before I leave. People don’t usually move up so fast, but that’s because most people go to karate only once a week. But Stella and I go every night. For a while I wondered how Stella got away with it, what with
Britt
seeming so jealous of how she spends her time and with who. But then I realized he has basketball practice every night, and with Stella at karate, he knows exactly where she is. I am starting to think that Britt is kind of a shit. But what do I know? I’m just glad Stella still comes to practice, with the exception of Fridays. She seems to love karate as much as I do. Larry says we have “the thirst.” Whatever. I just know that when I’m at practice with Stella and Larry, I’m not stressed about school — or anything else.

Stella and I have an unspoken agreement that we don’t walk to practice together. We don’t hang out on the stoop. We still act like strangers at school. Basically, we aren’t seen anywhere together except in practice, and on the walk with Larry back home. Practice is the “safety zone.” At practice, we joke around together. We help each other with the katas. We spar. When we demonstrate the katas together, we move as if we’re connected. Like we both feel the same energy pulling us through each move, perfectly synchronized. It’s more than a dance, though. I don’t know what it is, exactly. It’s as if we are both feeling the same rhythm, the same power. Everything else in my life disappears, or at least fades away. I don’t think about why I’m here. I just think about the moment. Maybe it’s the same for her. Maybe for this one time each day, we both get to escape from . . . everything. But as soon as class is over, we go our separate ways. Because for whatever reason (also known as
Britt
), I am not allowed to be in Stella’s other world.

Larry says anyone that jealous is extremely insecure. But I say it’s none of our business. And then he says I’m only staying out of it because I’m afraid of having a relationship. And then I say I do have a relationship. She’s my karate partner. And then he gets all flustered and tells Arielle to talk sense into me.

Arielle practically lives at Larry’s now, which is kind of awkward. Or it would be. But they’re both so cool with each other and with me that I don’t feel like such a third wheel anymore. Since Arielle teaches yoga at the Y, she and Larry both mainly work nights and have their days alone together while I’m at school. Arielle refuses to get involved with my covert non-relationship with Stella. Which is a relief.

Because what I don’t tell Larry — what I don’t tell anyone — is that I’m afraid if Stella knew how I really feel, she’d quit karate. Because what I really feel is that maybe Britt
should
find out about our secret friendship. Maybe then we could find out once and for all what his true colors are. Would he be cool with Stella being “just friends” with me or not? By the way Stella acts, I’m guessing not. But I still want him to find out. And I’m pretty sure that makes me just as much of a shit as he is.

When I finally call my mom to tell her I don’t want to come home for winter break, I can hear the disappointment in her voice. It’s even worse than when I told her about Thanksgiving.

Me: I’m really sorry, but I’m just not ready to come home yet.

Mom: What do you mean? What about Christmas?

Me: Well, Larry asked me to celebrate with him.

Mom: But —

Me: It’ll be better this way, I think.

Mom: But —

Me: I’ll be fine. I promise. Larry doesn’t have anyone to celebrate with. I should really stay so he doesn’t have to be alone. Besides, aren’t you working? You always work on Christmas.

Mom: Well, I just thought —

Me: Don’t be mad, OK? I just can’t come home. Not yet.

Mom:

Me: I’m really sorry, Mom. I just can’t.

Mom: No, it’s OK, honey. I understand.

Me: OK, well, I gotta go now.

Mom: Bye, honey. I miss you.

Me: Me, too, Mom.

I know I’m an asshole for making her and my dad spend Christmas alone together. But it’s not like my presence is going to make it any better. I know when they look at me they probably think about how, if it weren’t for me coming into their lives, everything would have been different for them. They wouldn’t have had to get married, for one thing. I wonder if they think about that, too. I wonder if they think about how different their lives would be if my mom had had an abortion instead. Or given me up for adoption. Would they have simply moved on? Or would they have been haunted by not knowing where I was? Or whatever became of me?

Sometimes at night, when the cries above wake me up, I can still imagine his face. And I wonder. What would have happened if he hadn’t been “given up”?

When I wake up and hear that phrase in my mind, over and over, I give Jackie Chan a good punch in the face. But Larry doesn’t come rushing into the room anymore.

He knows what’s going on. It’s part of my freakin’ journey. I just wish I knew where I was going.

The first day of winter break, someone knocks on our door at around ten in the morning. “Well, look who’s here!” Larry says loudly. I’m still in bed, but my door is open.
“Stelll-ahhhhh!”
Larry howls.

I pull on a T-shirt and a pair of sweats as fast as I can. I’m sure I have morning death-breath.

“Come on in, gorgeous.”

They walk into the living room. I wave from my door and head straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I come back out, Larry is showing Stella the box of Christmas ornaments from his childhood. There aren’t too many, because he had to divide them with my dad.

“Hey, Sam,” she says. I really wish she wouldn’t call me that.

“Hey,” I say.

“What brings you here on this fine winter morning?” Larry asks in his classic cornball way.

“I’m going to the mall to do some Christmas shopping, and I thought Josh might like to come along.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Larry says. When she looks away, he raises his eyebrows at me suggestively, then disappears into the kitchen.

“Coffee? Tea? Cocoa?” he calls out.

“Cocoa, please!” Stella says.

She looks at me kind of shyly. “So? You up for it?”

“Why me?” I ask. “Aren’t you worried we might be seen together?”

She blushes. “Britt and his friends are all at a basketball tournament today.”

Figures. I force myself not to roll my eyes. But seriously. Why can’t she see how truly pathetic this situation is? Right. Probably the same reason I’m not going to say no.

“Let me take a quick shower first,” I say.

“Great!”

I’m afraid she’s about to hug me or something and smell my stench, so I step back fast and head to the bathroom.

When I come back out, she’s finishing her cocoa with Larry. They both look at me like they’ve been talking about me.

“What?” I ask.

Stella smirks at Larry. “Oh, nothing.”

Larry grins.

“I know what you’re getting for Christmas,” Stella half sings.

Larry moves his shoulders to the beat in a little happy dance.

How do I even respond to this?

Stella gets up. “Ready to go?”

“You kids have fun!” Larry says. “Be good!”

“What’s with you?” I ask him. Larry’s always in a good mood, but today he looks like he’s going to explode with joy.

“I’m just
happy,
” he says. “Christmas is coming!”

“OK,” I say. “Just — try not to overdo it.”

“How the hell can you overdo Christmas?”

“I don’t know. But if anyone could, I’m pretty sure it would be you.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Stella grabs my hand, and my heart flips just like it always does when she smiles at me.

“C’mon, Scrooge,” she says. “Let’s go.”

When I turn back to say good-bye to Larry, he winks at me and wiggles his eyebrows again.

Give it up,
I mouth.

Never,
he mouths back.

“I know what you’re getting for Christsmas,” Stella singsongs again as we walk down the street to catch the bus.

“So you said,” I say. “What is it?”

“Like I’d tell.”

I realize we’re walking in sync, just like we move in karate. We’re about the same height, but I’m much heavier. Still, it’s weird to know someone’s moves so well. To have the same ones. She looks up at me as if she just realized the same thing and pauses midstep, so we go out of sync. But as we walk along, we keep falling back in step together, and every time we do, we grin at each other. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this. Relaxed. Happy. But even as I think it, I start to feel a weight bearing down on me again, and we fall out of step for real.

On the bus, we sit next to each other and watch the city go by. The bus is crowded with neighborhood people heading out to do their shopping, too. A little kid in front of us sings “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” and his dad smiles at him like he’s the cutest thing on earth. They hold hands tight. The boy won’t sit in his dad’s lap. He wants to hold on to the bar and stand like some of the other people. His body sways and he almost falls every time the bus driver hits the brakes or the gas. Each time this happens, the kid bursts out giggling. I wonder if he will ever know how lucky he is to have a dad to hold hands with like that. And then I start to wonder if my baby has a dad like that now. And then my throat starts to ache.

“Makes me miss Benny,” Stella says.

For a brief moment, I wish I could tell her who he makes me miss. But I can’t.

“You babysit for him every weekend,” I say. “How could you miss him?”

She shrugs. “I just do.”

We watch and don’t watch the kid until we get to the mall stop and step out into the cold with everyone else.

“So, where to?” I ask.

“No idea. Let’s just walk.”

When I follow her inside the mall entrance, we’re accosted by holiday music, fake trees, and the nauseating smell of scented candles. Stella pauses and turns in a circle, taking it all in.

“Don’t you just love the holidays?” she asks.

Um.

“Oh, look! Newbury Comics! I love that place. Let’s go there first.”

Stella picks up every single gag gift and shakes it in my face. “You should get this for Larry!” She holds up an Einstein bobblehead. Its head shakes all over the place. “I’m so smart. Yes I am, yes I am, yes I am,” she says as fast as his head nods.

I laugh.

“Oh, my God!” she yells.

A bunch of people look over at us.

“What?”

“You just laughed!”

I stop smiling. “And?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh. I must have magical powers.”

I know this can’t be true. I mean, the laughing part. “Funny,” I say.

She elbows me. “Sorry. I’m just not used to seeing you look, you know, happy.”

“Way to harsh my mellow,” I say. Because honestly? She really did. Who wants to hear how depressing they are?

“Harsh your mellow? Wow. Larry is really rubbing off on you.” She reaches up and pinches my cheek. “You should laugh more often,” she says. “It’s good for you.”

“Now who sounds like Larry?”

She shrugs.

But she’s right. For the first time, I feel like maybe it’s OK to feel happy once in a while. It’s been so long, I feel like I almost forgot how.

We end up leaving the store without buying anything.

“Who are you buying for, anyway?” I ask as we zigzag through the stream of shoppers. I suddenly have an impression of us going into every single store in the mall and doing exactly what we just did. Picking up a bunch of crap, laughing at it, and putting it back down. Which would actually be fun if we weren’t secret friends and we weren’t, in reality, probably shopping for crap for her boyfriend.