This is What I Did (3 page)

I figured out some more palindromes like racecar: Mom and Dad.

Those are easy ones and dumb, but I’m going to find a cool one online or something and tell Laurel.

Maybe in a note too.

When we first moved in, this guy Jack and his wife, Patsy, came over to give us cookies and meet us.

Patsy and Mom had already chatted on the phone a couple of times and Mom thought she was really nice and probably knew a lot of people.

My mom was always talking, talking so I knew Patsy knew about me.

Patsy: You must be Logan.

Me:

Patsy: Well, I’ve got a son your exact age. His name is Bruce.

Me:

Patsy: You are just going to love him. He’s a doll.

Me:

Patsy: Are you okay?

Me: Yeah.

Mom: He’s just a little shy.

Patsy: Of course. Well, Brucey is out terrorizing the neighborhood but I’ll send him and his friends over to meet you first chance I get.

Me: Okay.

Patsy: It’ll be good to have friends before you start a new school next week.

Me:

Mom: Thank you so much, Patsy. Logan would love it. Wouldn’t you?

Me: Sure.

That same time was when Jack and my dad found out they’re both mechanical engineers and they both play NBA Live on Gamecube.

And so they got to be good friends.

It used to be they would play every Sunday afternoon with other guys in the neighborhood and sometimes I would go watch.

I would go because Dad wanted me to go.

Dad: Come on, you like Gamecube. And this is a bunch of men being men.

I guess I liked Gamecube all right. But there were better games on better systems and plus I didn’t like to play basketball and baseball and hockey and those kinds of games.

But my dad said: Please? Come on.

I knew he wanted me to be Normal.

He wanted me to like sports like he liked sports and Mack and Ryan like sports.

So I went.

A few times.

Dad wanted me to do Scouts because he did Scouts and it was good for him.

Dad said: Logan, I promise you’ll like it.

Me: I don’t think so, Dad.

Dad: Please, Logan. You can trust me on this one.

Me: Why don’t you make the twins do it?

Dad: They’re too busy with sports. Come on, Logan. You’ll love it.

He sounded weird. Desperate.

Me: I don’t know.

Dad: Let’s just give it a try.

So I gave it a try. I knew that there would be Bruce and Toby and Luke there, but I also knew that in Scouts you had to do a lot of stuff.

Like earn merit badges and go on campouts, which could be good and bad.

Good because maybe those guys would be distracted and not have time to harass me.

Good because maybe I would get to learn how to swim better and hike better and climb and things like that.

Good because Dad really wanted me to do it and I really wanted to do it for him too sort of.

Bad because a campout meant more time for Bruce and Toby and Luke to do stuff to me or say stuff to me or do whatever they wanted.

Bad because I knew I wasn’t good at swimming and hiking and climbing and stuff like that.

Bad because if I couldn’t do it or didn’t want to do it, Dad would think I was a loser again.

The Scout Master was Bruce’s dad, Jack.

And Dad was so glad to say that I said I would do it.

One time after NBA Live:

Jack: It’ll be good for him.

Dad: Yeah, I know. And he’s excited, aren’t you, Logan?

Me: Yeah. Yeah.

Dad always thinks he can fix everything.

He can’t.

Mack and Ryan won a basketball tournament and they got co-MVPs.

Dad says it’s great and so does Mom.

They were shouting all night and yelling and high-fiving and I went in my room and it was okay.

I mean it was okay because they were good.

Zyler and I used to sort of play with Mack and Ryan sometimes.

I was so bad, they said, but Zyler had a nice shot and they liked to play with him.

We played horse and stuff and it would be funny because we’d shoot it off the roof or we’d shoot standing on the rail the twins got for their Rollerblades.

I don’t play with them anymore. Even if they ask.

They were upstairs yelling and I was in my room reading about fighter jets that could almost get out of the atmosphere.

So high they were almost gone.

Gone.

A few months ago somebody threw a bagel with a pickle in the middle at our front door.

Mom: This has gotten out of hand.

Dad: Silvia, it’s no big deal. Kids will be kids.

Mom: Tom, are you blind? Are you dumb? Are you out of your ever-loving mind? This is abuse.

Dad: Calm down.

Mom: Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. Don’t you dare.

Dad: Silvia . . .

Mom: Tom, I’ve had it. I’ve had it. You go to work all day. You don’t know. You don’t see.

Dad: You think I don’t see? You think I don’t know? He’s holed up in his room every night. And what about Jack and the whole Scout ordeal?

Mom:

Dad: And a lot of this is your fault.

Mom: What are you talking about?

Dad: Why did you tell people in the neighborhood Logan was having a hard time? You always do this. You always do this.

Mom: Oh come on, Jack. Don’t blame this one on me. I’m not taking this one. I thought we agreed we wanted to protect him. I thought we agreed that we would do whatever we could.

Dad: Calling people and telling them Logan had had problems and was severely depressed did not help him, Silvia.

Dad bought tickets to the NBA playoffs after the Zyler thing.

Dad never buys things like playoff tickets.

And he only got two because the prices went up and we had just moved.

Dad said the tickets were for me and him only.

Even though Mack and Ryan wanted to go, my dad said no.

But Mack and Ryan were mad because they played Jr. Nuggets and they were good.

They were the “dynamic duo” in the sixth grade league and they said how I didn’t even know how to play.

I didn’t know how to play.

Not really.

But me and Zyler loved the Nuggets.

It was the only team I liked. The only one I even knew the players of and cared about.

Dad liked that I cared and he didn’t let Mack and Ryan go.

Dad: You guys can watch it on TV.

Mack and Ryan: Logan can watch it on TV.

Dad: Stop pushing me or I won’t pay for Elite.

So then they stopped pushing.

You can’t push Dad too far and they wouldn’t give up Elite summer basketball camp for anything. Not even upper-bowl playoff tickets with popcorn and Coke (because Mom wasn’t there).

I went and it was okay.

But it was also weird.

Sort of like a charity case because I knew it was because of Zyler and me and everything and it didn’t really help, and plus, I don’t even know how to play.

Mom drives me home from Alta now.

The bus wasn’t too bad.

In fact, at the beginning, it was almost all the way okay because most of the guys that were “The Ones” got rides with older brothers or sisters or neighborhood carpools.

My mom asked Patsy why hardly any of the boys rode the bus.

Patsy said the boys didn’t like the bus or the old bus driver, who I heard was named Ben.