Riding Invisible (13 page)

When we climbed out of the truck and hugged each other, I could smell horses and sagebrush on Tavo's work shirt, and for a split second it felt like some of his strength poured into me.

“I'm really gonna miss you,” I told him, wiping my eyes with my forearm. “I mean it.”

“You gonna be okay, Yancy Aparicio,” Tavo said, his voice soft, and then he was wiping his eyes, too.

He turned and hopped into the truck, slammed the door, and started the engine. A familiar Latino ballad came on the radio when the truck pulled away from the curb. Tavo's voice joined in with so much Life and the scene created a feeling that hit me hard, sort of like watching something you love a lot die and
disappear forever.

Wednesday—8:40 a.m.—school, 1st period

Today Will's first sign of showing his real self, the Old Will, popped to the surface when he slammed his body against my chair during breakfast.

“Oops!” he said in a real loud voice for Mom's benefit. But she was stirring eggs on the stove and missed it all.

Then he glared at me the entire way to school. I ignored him, not for long, because my school is close to home. Dad drove off with my brother still safely sealed inside the car, so Will could attend his public school special education classes five miles away at a place where they give him a one-on-one T.A. to keep him on task and out of trouble.

I can coexist if Will behaves this way. I mean, it's been six entire days without major conflict. No horse threats. That's the best thing. Mom and Dad have noticed and that race car is all the way up to square number eighteen. Good job, bro.

I am mainly in a good mood right now, and even though I've spotted Christi at school, I would've felt like a geek going over to say something to her. Maybe today it will happen. After school. At Art Club.

Wednesday—4:30p.m.—Frank's stable

Art Club did take place and Christi was there and this is what went down:

She arrived at 3:15 and I noticed how her colorful hair was all captured and pulled back, and her face looked clean and fresh with that little gap between her front teeth. I'm not into female fashion, but her dress showed the top part of her boobs, and it made me a little nuts. I figured that I should probably admire her from a distance, like always, like before, but there was that kiss from Grass with her tight ass, where she was grinding her body into mine. (And if her dad hadn't caught us…??) It makes no sense, but that memory helped me stare at Christi. Long and hard, with a look-over-here message behind it. She noticed! And it's gotta be a sign how at that point in time, I wasn't invisible anymore. Because she walked over to where I was sitting.

“Hey,” I told her.

“Hi!” Big smile. “So where have you been, dude? I've heard rumors.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“Like you ran away from home. Stuff like that.”

So I told Christi that yeah, well, I'm back now. And then I said something that a forty-year-old dork might say, like it's great to see you or something, and Christi put on her purple-framed nerdy-cool glasses with rhinestones, which called attention to that little diamond on her nostril.

“I think you got more cute while you were gone,” she said.

And I was thinking,
WELL, THE GORY MAIDEN SEEMED TO THINK I WAS OKAY.
I gave Christi what might've been a sexy smile, and she straightened the top part of her black dress, and I decided that she smelled like some kind of flowers. Then Jordhan came in with her tight pants and kind of fell in the chair beside Christi and dumped a Burger King bag on their table.

Christi peeked inside. “You know I love fries, but they are so full of FAT.”

Jordhan peeked in, too. “Yeah, they are so freakin' good! And I've got lots of catsup to go with.”

Christi shrugged her shoulders and dug for a fry and passed the bag to me, and I grabbed a handful. Just then Antoine, the Art Club president, called us to order. Acting impulsively, I ripped a sheet out of my spiral notebook and picked up my favorite pen, the kind that doesn't leak on airplanes, and I Didn't Think About What I Was Going to Write and This Is What Came Out:

CHRISTI

SO WHAT ARE YOU DOING FRIDAY AFTER SCHOOL? WE COULD MEET AT STARBUCKS OR SOMETHING. Y.

When I handed her the paper, Christi read it. Then, with an exaggerated motion, making her eyelids flutter, fanning her face with her left hand, she tucked my note inside the top part of her dress.

“I just
HAD
to do that,” Christi whispered, pressing her shoulder into mine. “On the classic movie channel last night? This actress kept a stash of cash in her bra.”

“Very dramatic,” I said. “Maybe you should audition for the school play.”

The agenda moved along endless and non-stopping, the note sweating hotly against Christi's boobs, an image that made it impossible for me to concentrate on business. We formed work committees to discuss the upcoming plans for the fall performance and our role as Art Club members to design and paint the scenery, until finally Antoine hollered, “Meeting adjourned!”

On the way out, Christi leaned against me. “About your note?” she said, resting her palm on her chest while I tried not to stare. “Starbucks might be interesting. You can tell me about your adventures from when you turned up missing. I'm s'posed to help Jordhan pick out some shoes at the mall after school, so I'll meet you at Starbucks around four. Okay?”

And for the first time, being home and not on the Triple R is starting to look almost amazing.

Friday—5:30 p.m.—Starbucks

Christi had to head for home already, but I'm still sitting here with my journal, steamy coffee scents everywhere, and it's so cool to be writing. Like an author.

Anyway, after school, even though I took my time getting here, I still arrived early, hands sweating from nerves, worried she wouldn't show. But she did show around four fifteen, out of breath, her cheeks all pink.

The main thing Christi wanted to talk about was my running away adventures.

I told her everything but left out the parts about Grass, and never did explain a thing about my brother. Christi said Tavo sounds like the best person who was ever invented. When she had to go home, she kissed my cheek.

“Let's do this again. Soon,” she said.

That was my favorite part of today. It was a feeling I used to get as a kid, like wishing for something for Christmas and getting it, only this gift was actually better than my expectations. Christi…Christi…Christi…

Saturday—10:35 p.m.—in my room

The phone started ringing a few minutes ago, and I answered, figuring it was Gomez, picking up fast before it woke Mom and Dad, but the voice I heard was not Gomez.

“Hey, Yancy, it's Grace. You know, Grass Arnold from the Triple R? I just wanted to apologize, um, like, let you know how sorry I am that Daddy called your parents.”

It took a second for my brain to grab hold of who I was talking to. “I'm confused,” I finally said. “You kinda treated me like trash most of the time I was working on your dad's ranch, and now you're calling to apologize about getting me busted?”

“Yeah, well, I kissed you. Remember?”

Her words got me shaking my head. What was I supposed to say?

Grass kind of coughed, or maybe she was inhaling weed. “Now I feel terrible about how you lost your job. It was my fault, and I hope we're still friends.”

A vision fired through my brain. I could actually taste her lips and that sex-driven tongue, but immediately the taste got clouded by a different picture of Miss Rich Bitch ordering me around, living in a mansion where she believed her birthright made her superior. But I didn't tell her to fuck off.

“Look,” I said. “You can make it up to me.”

“Like how? Tell me and I'll do it.”

“Ask Tavo to describe his adventures about coming to America and crossing the border. Maybe you'll understand how immigrants—”

“Jesus, Yancy,” Grass said, interrupting me. “There's another reason why I called. Um…well, Tavo doesn't work here anymore. I don't know where he is.”

Did she hang up first? Did I? For sure it didn't matter. All I could think about was Tavo.

Sunday—4 p.m.—home

The sun came out this morning; there was a cold breeze, but not too bad. Dad headed out on his Harley right after breakfast. And I took off for Frank's to help him unload and stack two tons of hay. After that, I rode Shy for about an hour on our favorite trail.

When I was almost home, I noticed Will and his friend Jarvis unloading stuff from Jarvis's truck and carrying it inside the garage. Scary. I went through our front door, and Mom was in the den reading a book and listening to music with her headphones on. I grabbed a piece of cold pizza and headed for my room.

Big question of the day:
WHAT WERE WILL AND JARVIS UP TO?
My room's not far from the garage, and I could hear them laughing and banging things around, dragging huge stuff across the floor, hammering, laughing some more, until finally the hinged door out front closed with a loud squeal. So I sneaked inside the garage to investigate, hitting the switch for the overhead fluorescent lighting. Nothing. Everything seemed perfect, so what was all that noise about? Finally, after crawling around on my knees to get behind Dad's workbench not far from the beer-stash ice chest, way behind our old exercise bike, I noticed an eerie glow. I kept crawling.

Whoa! Weed! Six baby plants growing in a long, narrow planter with special lights attached low on the wall, extending over them. And a dark cloth draped around the sides to keep everything way hidden. So if someone were to find out about this, which would be a huge possibility, being as Will has at least zero good judgment in his brain, and for sure every messed-up druggie at his school probably already knows that Will Aparicio is harvesting weed…well, if that should make the cops come over here, couldn't my dad get in a bunch of trouble? Maybe even lose his teaching job? That's what I was thinking this morning. But now? I figure doing the right thing is not always smart.

Anyway, just as I headed inside, Dad banged through the front door and tossed his helmet in the closet. Strong New Me took over immediately, which I now recognize as Zero Good Judgment, because I actually thought it was my job to wear the Nark Badge in our family.

“Dad,” I whispered, glancing toward the kitchen where Will and Jarvis were scarfing up the rest of the pizza. “You'd better follow me to the garage and have a look.”

With Dad in the rear, we crawled around out there, and I showed him the evidence, and my father said “shit,” and then he ran back inside our house.

“Will! Jarvis! You figure my garage is a perfect place to harvest your pot?” Dad was standing close to Will, yelling in his face while Jarvis backed away, blasted himself out the front door, and then took off in his truck.

“
WHAT!
” Will said, gasping, his eyes all wide and innocent-looking.

“Don't act like you're not aware of what this is about.” Dad's voice, way harsh. His face? The shade of a tomato.

Will's eyes got mean, and that's when I realized that, hey, what the fuck was I thinking, tattling on a sociopath? Was I fucking stupid or what?

Dad watched my brother stare me down. “Leave Yancy out of this,” he said.

“Why leave Fancy Yancy out of this? He wanted to get involved in my business, so now he's in way over his head!”

I wondered…
IS THIS IT? IS THIS DAD'S BREAKING POINT? IS HE GOING TO FORGET HIS SELF-CONTROL AND POP WILL A BIG ONE?
But no. Dad took a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said, and took another breath. “I've had it this time. First, we're going to trash those plants. I think the garbage disposal will work just fine….”

Right then the phone rang. Mom answered. She peeked around the corner and informed Dad that Mr. Garza wanted to speak to him.