Finlater by Shawn Stewart Ruff

Author:Shawn Stewart Ruff [Ruff, Shawn Stewart]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shawn Stewart Ruff

The morning was sunny-side-up bright. I left early to intercept Noah again, only this time he was waiting a block from his house. I wanted a muffin and juice, just like last time, and to thank his mother for calling mine.

“Dang, you sure are slow.”

“Whatcha waiting out here for?”

“For you, knucklehead.”

I couldn’t tell if he was mad or what. I grinned when I noticed the bicycle. Not the one with the banana seat. This one had a baseball glove seat, big enough only for one person. We assumed our positions and I stared at a sliver of skin like vanilla ice cream above his underwear. I wanted to hold on to him there, but as we fumbled into motion my hands clutched our book bags and we tilted further off balance. The car we sideswiped kept us from hitting ground.

He jerked the bike upright. “You pedal, and I’ll carry our bags.”

We tried it again, with the same results, only we capsized, hitting the street in a thud.

“Let’s go back for the other bike.”

“No, it’s got a flat,” he barked, shoving me aside, then pushing himself up. “Fuck it, let’s just walk.”

“Something the matter?”

I looked up in time to see Noah’s mom. The familiar station wagon snailed along through the school zone. Sunlight showered down through the tree shade like rain. I could see Mrs. Baumgarten wasn’t her usual plain self. Her hair was done up in a flip and she was wearing pancake and lipstick. A figure slumped in the passenger seat, just outside the wedge of sunshine lighting Mrs. Baumgarten. It was Noah’s father in the front seat, his head against the neck rest as if he were asleep. Leeza and Isaac were in the backseat, as still as mannequins.

I put my hand up to wave, but Noah jerked it down. “Don’t,” he ordered. I nearly said, Get off me. “SB, what’s the matter?”

“My dad’s really sick this morning.” Noah looped our book bags by their straps over the handlebar. “What’s the matter with him?” He stared at me, his lips smushed together showing the notches of the braces. “It’s none of your business.”

“I thought we were best friends.”

“We are.” He kicked the bike. “But you lied to me about your dad. My mom talked to your mom last night. Why’d you lie?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t have a dad before March second. Before that, he didn’t exist. Well, he did exist, only I didn’t know him. I swear. I made up my Los Alamos dad because I felt bad. I figured I should have a dad, a good dad. Then my real dad showed up...”

“Is he that bad?”

“He wears zebra-striped bikini underwear.”

“Pukey.” Noah said, his lips almost smiling.

“All he cares about is his Thunderbird. I don’t think he even likes us. I want a dad like yours, not like him.”

Noah turned full on me. “No, you don’t. He’s...” The tears jumped from his eyes.

“SB, what’s the matter?”

“My dad’s sick. Heart sick. Mom’s taking him to the hospital now.

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