This is What I Did (8 page)

Not everything in Scouts was bad.

We did a lot of different things and some of them I really liked.

Like KNOTS.

I can do a water knot, a munter hitch, a square knot, and a bowline knot.

I can do all of these faster and better than anyone else.

Jack was impressed.

Jack: Wow, Logan. You are our knot expert. Look at this, guys.

The six other guys, including you-know-whos, looked at me and at my rope.

Bruce: So what?

Jack: Bruce, look at your rope and then look at Logan’s. Keep your mouth shut if you can’t back it up.

Bruce shrugged. He didn’t even get the clove hitch, let alone the prussic.

That day was probably the best in Scouts.

And it was in the beginning.

Like our second pack meeting, so Jack thought I was pretty smart and maybe a good Scout. I was glad because I thought that might keep Bruce and them away from me.

But Jack liking me didn’t really last.

Bruce is too smart for that.

I couldn’t believe it.

Dr. Benson in the Towers was a trap.

After Mom went in there for a while and I had been sitting there staring at fish because
Highlights
sucked, Dr. Jim Benson came out and said: Logan, why don’t you come join us.

The room was like this:

A big window with a view of the mountains.

A big desk with everything set out on it very even.

A chair for the doctor that was like what you’d think.

Two leather chairs and one my mom was in.

A couch over by another door that was maybe for a bathroom.

Pictures of smiling dogs and kids and Ansel Adams photos all over.

Books.

I sat down.

Dr. Benson: Logan, do you know why you are here?

Me: No.

Dr. Benson: Okay. That’s what your mother told me.

Me:

Dr. Benson: I’m a counselor.

Me:

Dr. Benson: Your parents thought it’d be a good idea if you and I talked now and then.

Me:

No way no way no way no way no way no way no way no way no way no way

Dr. Benson: Would that be okay with you?

I looked at my mom. She nodded and smiled.

Unbelievable.

Dr. Benson: It’s your turn to talk now, Logan.

Me:

Mom: Honey, it’s okay.

Me:

I had to get out of there.

Mom: Honey?

She was staring at me and tried to take my hand. I moved away.

Me:

Dr. Benson: You know what? It’s okay. You don’t have to talk this first time.

Me:

Dr. Benson: How about I’ll just talk.

And then he stared at me and stared at me and then finally

Dr. Benson: My name is Dr. Jim Benson and I am forty-eight years old. I have three children and I love baseball and eating. I also like to go boating. Have you ever been boating before, Logan?

Unbelievable.

Mom: Umm, no. We don’t have a boat or anything. But he has been down a river before, haven’t you, Logan?

That’s when I got up and walked out. I just walked out.

I didn’t stop in the waiting room either. I didn’t stop in the hall. I didn’t stop down in the lobby. I didn’t even stop at the car. I just kept going. But soon I was running. I sort of ran up the hill.

A hill.

I didn’t know where I was exactly except that we were by the university, but it didn’t matter. I ran up a hill and there was a construction site there and a bunch of guys jackhammering.

I ran past them.

I felt stupid for all of them to see me running but I didn’t stop.

I kept running and panting and almost dying until I passed them and got to the base of the mountain. I can’t really describe where I was or what it was like because I didn’t know and I was about to pass out.

All I know was that all of a sudden I was at the base of the mountains where the trails start and I sat down by a tree where no one was around and no one could see me from the road.

I sat down and then

I yelled.

Laurel is pretty funny in class.

She doesn’t really say things but she laughs at weird times and sometimes she hums.

Everyone will look at her but she just keeps humming.

Girls like Carmen and Vanessa and Mallory think she’s “super dorky.”

I know because I heard them say that — “super dorky.”

I don’t know why she does all that weird stuff, but I think she’s funny.

Here’s how Zyler was: Brave.

Brave like once, when we didn’t even know where his dad was, Zyler started the dirt bike his dad had in the garage. We’d always wanted to ride it, but we knew we couldn’t even ask.

But one day we were eating Froot Loops on my front porch and it was hot and boring and there was nothing to do.

So Zyler said: I don’t even care.

Before I could think what he’d said, he was already on his bike. I ran to catch up and soon we were at his dirt-yard house.

Me: What are we doing?

Zyler: I’m bored and he never even rides it.

Me: You’re not saying what I think you’re saying.

He smiled at me and said: Are you scared?

And yes, yes I was sort of scared.

Me: I don’t know.

Zyler: I knew it. You got to get over it, Paloney. You got to live.

He laughed and so did I. It was a line from our favorite movie,
Destinos,
and it was supposed to be our motto — sort of. If we had one.

So we went in the garage.

Me: Are you going to take it out on the street?

Zyler: I don’t know yet. I’m not sure if it has gas.

Me: I don’t think we should take it out there. What if your dad comes home?

Zyler: I’m sick of my dad.

I looked at him and he seemed serious. He usually wasn’t serious.

Me: Yeah, but what if he found out?

Zyler: He’d kick the crap out of me.

And he really, really would.

Me: Then why are we doing this?

Zyler: Then why wouldn’t we do this? What are we supposed to do? Sit on the front porch eating soggy cereal all day?

Me: Yeah, yeah we could do that all day. It’s better than getting the crap kicked out of us.

Zyler: Logan, you don’t need to worry. He won’t touch you.

It was true. Zyler’s dad had yelled yelled yelled at me but he had never hit me or anything.

Zyler, however, was a different story. A very different story.

He had a lot of “household accidents”:

a broken arm.

a broken collarbone.

stitches eight times.

a couple of black eyes.

and bruises.

So we went in the garage and there it was: his dad’s dirt bike. And it wasn’t the biggest bike or anything but it was really cool. Like fast and loud cool and we’d looked at it a ton of times.

Zyler opened the door to the backyard.

Zyler: I’m just going to ride it out back and then back in. Then you can if you want.

I didn’t want.

He went to the side of the bike where it leans on the kickstand and threw his leg over the lowest part of the seat.

I couldn’t believe he was doing this.

I tried to hear if anything was coming down the street.

Anything.

Zyler was having a hard time getting it started or something. But when he finally kicked the kickstand back up, a black cloud belched out the exhaust pipe.

He pulled a lever by his left hand and tapped down with his left foot.

Dirt bike: Vroom put put Vroom (or something like that)

The garage funneled the sound of the motor. Then the bike jumped and sputtered out.

Zyler: I can’t get the clutch to work.

Me: I have no idea how to work that thing.

Zyler: It’s not that hard — see, you just pull the choke, pull back on the throttle once, and kick down on the starter.

Me:

So then he did it again.

This time the motor revved and revved and didn’t sputter out.

Zyler yelling: Oh my crap, this is so awesome!

Me yelling back: Yeah!

Zyler still yelling — the motor was really loud: I’m going to take it in the backyard!

Me: Okay!

And then I watched him go out the back door of the garage. He sort of jumped at first, but then he was really riding it. He was really riding it, and it was really loud.