Chapter 07
伙计，放松点儿
没过多长时间，我就意识到，我和朱莉安娜·贝克之间的老问题已经完全转化成一系列新问题。从很远的地方我都能感觉到她的怒气。
让她生我的气，比她纠缠着我还要更糟。为什么？因为这完全赖我自己，就这么简单。是我把鸡蛋的事暴露了，把责任推给她家的院子也无济于事。她无视我，或者说，高调地躲着我的方式，就像是大声提醒着我是个浑蛋。一个假惺惺的浑蛋。
一天放学后，我跟加利特分开后走在回家的路上，朱莉站在她家院子里，正在修剪一丛灌木。她狠狠地抽打着，枝条飞溅在她的肩膀上，隔着一条街，我清楚地听到她一个人念念叨叨：“不……你……不要！你可以来……找……不管喜欢还是……不喜欢！”
这让我觉得舒服吗？不，朋友，我一点儿也不舒服。没错，她家的院子是一团糟，也确实是时候应该有人出来做点什么了，但是拜托——她爸爸呢？马特和麦克在哪儿？为什么偏偏是朱莉？
我让她觉得尴尬了，这就是原因。我从来没感觉这么糟过。
我悄悄溜进屋里，试图忽略掉这个事实：在我的书桌、我的窗户正对面，朱莉正在抽打一丛灌木。可我没法集中精力。根本不行。我一点儿也做不下去功课。
第二天，我在学校试图鼓起勇气跟她说话，可是完全没有机会。看样子她不会让我靠近她。
回家的路上，我想出一个主意。一开始我被这个想法吓了一跳，但我想得越深，就越觉得可行，没错，帮她整理院子将会一举改变我在她心目中浑蛋的形象。假设她不会把我指挥得团团转，也不会像一块橡皮糖一样黏着我。不，我要勇敢地走上去，对她说，我不想给她留下一个浑蛋的印象，我愿意帮她割草、修枝作为补偿，就是这样。如果我这样做了，而她还生我的气，那我也没办法，那就是她的问题了。
而我的问题在于，我根本找不到机会。我辛辛苦苦地从校车站跑回家，却发现已经有人在替我做好事了——我外公。
我真的被吓到了。一时间，我陷入了迷茫。外公根本不打理院子。至少他从来不在我打理院子的时候帮忙。而且外公常年穿着室内拖鞋——他从哪儿弄来了一双工作靴？还有牛仔裤和法兰绒衬衫——这是怎么回事？
我躲在一户邻居家的树篱下面看着他俩，十到十五分钟的光景，好吧，我越看越生气。几分钟之内，我外公跟她说的话已经超过了这一年半以来住在这里和我说话的总和。他跟朱莉安娜·贝克有什么关系？
爬过两道围栏、踢开邻居家傻乎乎的小梗犬，我悄悄潜回家里，不过这一切都是值得的，起码让我避开了街对面那场庭院派对。
我又一次没做家庭作业。看得越多，我越生气。当朱莉跟外公一起发出笑声的时候，我仍然是个假惺惺的浑蛋。我什么时候看见他笑过？真正的微笑？我根本想不起来！可是现在，他站在及膝的杂草中间，哈哈大笑。
吃晚饭的时候，他出现了，换回平时穿的衣服和室内拖鞋，可是他的样子完全变了。就像有人给他充了电，打开了开关。
“晚上好，”他说，就像他终于发现了我们的存在，“哦，佩西，看上去很好吃！”
“嗯，爸爸，”妈妈笑着说，“看来在对街做的运动对你很有好处嘛。”
“是的，”爸爸说，“佩西告诉我，你一下午都在那儿。如果你想搞个家庭改造运动，完全可以告诉我们啊。”
爸爸只是开了个玩笑，可我觉得外公把它当真了。他盛了一勺奶酪酿土豆，说：“可以把盐递给我吗，布莱斯？”
好吧，爸爸和外公之间确实有种奇怪的紧张感，可是我猜爸爸如果马上转变话题，气氛也就随之改变了。
但是爸爸没有放弃。他反而继续问下去：“那一家终于有人跳出来给院子做点修整了，为什么是那个姑娘呢？”
外公小心翼翼地给土豆撒上盐，然后注视着餐桌这一头的我。啊哦，我想，被揭穿了。电光石火之间，我知道我再也藏不住那些愚蠢的鸡蛋了。整整两年，我偷偷把它们扔进垃圾桶，我避免提起朱莉、她的鸡蛋、她的小鸡，还有她每天早晨的造访，这都是为了什么？现在外公全知道了，我能从他眼睛里看出来。他马上就要揭穿我了，那时候我就有得熬了。
可是奇迹出现了。在外公的凝视下，我一动都不敢动地坐了一分钟，而他转向我爸爸，说：“她就是想这么做了。”
我的额头上汗如雨下，听到爸爸说：“好吧，是该有人做点什么了。”外公把目光转回来看着我，而我知道——他不会让我轻易忘掉这些。我们刚刚经历了一次别样的交谈，这一次他绝不会放过我。
吃完晚饭，我回到房间，可是外公马上跟了进来，关上门，坐在我床上。整个过程悄无声息。门没响、床没响、听不到呼吸声……我发誓，他就像幽灵一样潜入我的房间。
当然，我惊得撞到了膝盖，把铅笔掉在地上，还打翻了一碗果冻。不过我努力保持平静，说：“你好，外公。你是来查岗的吗？”
他把两片嘴唇闭得紧紧的，凝视着我。
我投降了：“好吧，外公，我知道我搞砸了。我应该告诉她的，但我做不到。我一直以为它们不会再继续下蛋了。我是说，一只鸡能连续下多久的蛋？它们在我五年级那年就孵出来了！离现在都三年了！它们的产蛋期不会结束吗？而且，我还能怎么做？告诉她我妈妈害怕沙门氏菌感染？还是告诉她我爸爸希望我跟她说我家对鸡蛋过敏？拜托，谁会相信呢？所以我只好一直……嗯……扔掉它们。我不知道她在卖鸡蛋。我以为它们只是多余的。”
他缓缓地点了点头。
我叹了口气，接着说：“谢谢你吃晚饭的时候没有说下去。我欠你一个人情。”
他拉开窗帘，朝对街望去，“一个人的性格是在童年时代养成的，孩子。你现在作出的选择将会影响你的一生。”他静静地站了一会儿，放下窗帘说，“我不想看到你走得太远，却又无法收场。”
“是，长官。”
他皱起眉头：“别对我说‘是，长官’，布莱斯。”他站住了，又加上一句，“想想我说的话，下次面临选择的时候，作出正确的决定。从长远来看，对所有人的伤害都是最小的决定。”
说完，他一阵风似的走了。
第二天放学后，我去加利特家打篮球，他妈妈把我送回家的时候，外公甚至都没注意。他正忙着在朱莉家的院子里充当木匠呢。
我想在早餐台上写作业，可是妈妈下班回来了，在旁边叽叽喳喳地说话，后来利奈特也来了，她们俩开始争论，到底利奈特是不是把自己的妆化得活像一只受了伤的浣熊。
我保证利奈特绝对不会吸取教训。
我收拾东西逃回房间，当然，这根本无济于事。他们在对街开动电锯，发出阵阵哀号声，在电锯切割的间隙，我还能听到锤子乓乓乓的敲击声。
我从窗户望出去，看到了朱莉，她从嘴里吐出钉子，把它们敲进正确的位置。没错。她把钉子排成一排叼在嘴里，就像一排铁做的香烟，同时她抡圆了铁锤，高高地挥过头顶，把钉子打进木桩，就像插进奶油里一样轻松。
有那么一瞬间，我觉得她的锤子仿佛敲在我的脑袋上，然后它像蛋壳一样裂开了。我颤抖着放下窗帘，丢下作业，跑去看电视了。
他们干了整整一星期。每天晚上外公回家的时候总是两颊通红，胃口大开，并且盛赞妈妈的厨艺。然后到了星期六。当外公在朱莉家院子里翻土植树的时候，我绝不想待在家里。妈妈企图说服我去整理自家的院子，可是，当外公和朱莉在对街帮那里脱胎换骨的时候，我在这边给草坪来个微调，岂不是很荒谬？
所以，我把自己反锁在屋里，给加利特打电话。他不在家，我找过的任何一个人都有事要做。央求妈妈或者爸爸开车带我去电影院或者商场肯定没希望了。他们一定会说，我本来应该去整理院子的。
我感觉自己被困住了。
结果，我不由自主地透过窗户傻乎乎地望着朱莉和我外公。这实在很诡异，可我确实这么做了。
而且我还被人发现了，是外公发现的。当然，他把我指给朱莉看，这让我在她面前凭空又矮了一头。我放下窗帘，撞开后门，跳过围栏。我非要出去不可。
那天我恨不得走了十里路。我也不知道该生谁的气——外公，朱莉，还是自己。我这是怎么了？如果我想跟朱莉和好，为什么不能直接走过去帮忙？是什么阻止了我？
我来到加利特家门口，上帝，我从来没有那么高兴见到谁。
让加利特帮我忘掉这一切吧。
这正是这位老兄擅长的。我们打篮球、看电视、聊起今年夏天坐水滑梯的事。
当我回到家，朱莉正在给院子洒水。
她看见我了，这也就算了，可是她既不跟我打招呼也没有露出笑容，她什么也没做，她只是转开了目光。
假如是平时，我大概会假装没看见她，或者飞快地挥挥手，然后溜进屋里。可她已经生我的气很久了。自从她撞见我扔鸡蛋的那天起，就再也没有跟我说过一个字。
几天前的数学课上，我冲她微笑，想告诉她我很抱歉，可她彻底地无视我的存在。她没有笑、没有点头、没有任何反应，只是转过头去，再也不看我一眼。
我甚至在教室外面等着跟她说几句话，说什么都行，比如她整修院子的事，或者告诉她我有多难过，但她躲着我从另一个门出去了。在这之后，任何时候我只要一靠近，她就找机会从我旁边溜掉。
现在，她在那里给院子洒水，让我觉得自己像个浑蛋，我受够了。我走上去对她说：“院子漂亮多了，朱莉。干得不错。”
“谢谢，”她板着脸说，“大部分都是查特做的。”
查特？我思考着。查特？她是怎么想的，敢叫我外公的名字？
“听着，朱莉，”我努力回到自己的本意，“对我做过的事，我感到非常抱歉。”
她看了我一会儿，然后转过头去继续盯着水雾洒在土地上。
最后她终于开口了：“我还是不明白，布莱斯。你为什么就不能直接告诉我呢？”
“我……我不知道。没法解释。我应该告诉你的，而且我不应该说你家院子的坏话。那些话，你知道，真是太过分了。”
我感觉好多了，好了很多。只听朱莉说道：“好吧，也许一切都会好起来的，”她用前脚掌跳了跳，就像原来一样，“这里看上去怎么样？查特教了我很多东西，太棒了。你真幸运，我的祖父母都不在了。”
“哦。”我不知道该说些什么。
“不过，我真为他难过。他肯定还在想念你的外婆。”然后她笑了，摇摇头说，“你能相信吗？他说我让他想起了你的外婆。”
“什么？”
“真的，”她又笑了，“就是这样，不过他说得更婉转。”
我看着朱莉，想象我八年级时外婆的样子，这太难了。我是说，朱莉有一头蓬松的棕色长发，一个长满雀斑的鼻子，而我外婆总是以金发的形象示人，而且外婆以前擦粉。松软的白色粉末，她擦在脸上，头发上，还有鞋子和胸脯……所有的东西上面。
我想象不出朱莉擦上粉是什么样子。好吧，也许可以沾些黑灰色的火药粉末，但是白色的香粉……还是算了。
我想自己一定在盯着她看，因为朱莉说：“瞧，这不是我说的，是他说的。我只是挺高兴听他这么说。”
“是啊，管他呢。哦，祝你的草能活下来。我敢肯定它们会很茂盛的。”我说出来的话让自己都吃了一惊，“我了解你，你连小鸡都能孵出来。”我没有任何别的意思，只是说出我真实的想法。我笑了，她也笑了，我离开她家的时候也是一样——给未来的草坪浇着水，面带微笑。
我已经好几个星期没这么高兴过了。鸡蛋事件终于被我抛在脑后。我有种如蒙大赦的感觉，解脱并快乐着。
晚餐时分，我花了几分钟的时间才意识到，我是唯一一个心情愉快的人。利奈特和平时一样闷闷不乐，就不去管她了。而爸爸一上来就劈头盖脸地因为草坪的事骂了我一顿。
“没问题，”我告诉他，“我明天一定去。”
这样一来，我也变得满面愁容。
妈妈对外公说：“爸爸，你今晚很累？”
他坐在那里安静得像块石头，我几乎没注意到。
“是啊，”爸爸吃完他面前的饭菜，“那个姑娘让你干了太多活儿？”
外公用餐巾擦了擦叉子，然后说道：“那个姑娘的名字叫朱莉，不，她不像你说的冷酷无情，‘让我干太多活儿’。”
“冷酷无情？我？”爸爸笑了，“你现在对那个姑娘真是情有独钟啊，不是吗？”
有那么一个瞬间，连利奈特似乎都不再噘着嘴了。这是挑衅，人人都看得出来。
妈妈用脚推着爸爸，可是这让事情变得更糟。“不，佩西！我只想知道，为什么你爸爸连跟他自己的外孙玩玩棒球都做不到，却有那么多精力和愿望跟陌生人交朋友！”
哦，是啊！我也这么认为。但我又记起来——我欠外公一个人情，欠他一个巨大的人情。
我想都没想就脱口而出：“冷静点儿，爸爸。朱莉只是让外公想起了外婆。”
所有人都闭上嘴，朝我看过来。于是我看着外公说：“呃……是不是这样，外公？”
他点点头，继续摆弄叉子。
“让你想起蕾妮？”爸爸看看妈妈，再看看外公，“不可能！”
外公闭上眼睛：“她的性格让我想起蕾妮。”
“她的性格？”爸爸说。他就像在跟一个说谎的幼儿园小孩儿对话。
“没错，她的性格。”外公沉默了一会儿，问道，“你们知道贝克家为什么直到现在都没有修整院子吗？”
“为什么？这是明摆着的。他们全是些废物，就是这样。他们有一间破破烂烂的房子，两辆破破烂烂的车和一个破破烂烂的院子。”
“他们不是废物，瑞克。他们是好人，诚实的人，努力工作的人——”
“也是些对自己展现给他人的形象一点儿自豪感也没有的人。他们住在我家对街已经超过六年了，对于现在的状况，他们找不到任何借口。”
“没有吗？”外公深吸一口气，像是在心里权衡了一下，然后他说，“瑞克，告诉我。假如你有一个在心理或者生理上有严重缺陷的兄弟姐妹，或是子女，你会怎么做？”
就像外公在教堂里放了个屁一样，爸爸的脸皱成一团，摇着头，最后说道：“查特，这有什么关系吗？”
外公盯着他看了很久，然后轻轻地说：“朱莉的爸爸有个智障的兄弟，而且——”
爸爸打断了他，笑着说：“好吧，这很说明问题了，对不对。”
“很……说明问题？”外公轻声地、冷静地问道。
“当然！这足够说明那家人为什么像现在这样！”他笑了，轮番看着我们。
“那是遗传病。”
人人都看着他。利奈特露出惊讶的表情，她头一次语塞了。妈妈说：“瑞克！”爸爸只能紧张地笑了笑：“我是在开玩笑！我是说，他们家一定有什么地方出了问题。哦，对不起，查特。我忘了，那个姑娘让你想起了蕾妮。”
“瑞克！”妈妈再一次叫道，现在她真的生气了。
“哦，佩西，拜托。你爸爸过分煽情了，他搬出一个不知道在哪里的弱智亲戚，只是想让我因为批评邻居而感到内疚。每个家庭都有每个家庭的问题，可他们还是会收拾好草坪。他们应该对自己的产业有点责任感，哦，真让人受不了！”
外公的脸因为激动而发红，但他的声音一直很平静：“那所房子不是他们的产业，瑞克。房主本应该负责房屋的清洁工作，但他没有做到。由于朱莉的爸爸要对他的兄弟负责，所以他们全部的收入都用来照顾他的兄弟了，这显然要花很多钱。”
妈妈的声音很轻很轻：“政府部门不管他吗？”
“我不清楚细节，佩西。也许附近没有这样的政府救济部门。也许他们觉得私人陪护对他更好。”
“还是一样，”爸爸说，“政府有相应的救济措施，如果他们不去依靠，那是他们的选择。他家有什么染色体变异的问题并不是我们的责任，我一点儿也不觉得内疚——”
外公一拍桌子，几乎站了起来：“这跟染色体没有任何关系，瑞克！那是由出生时缺氧造成的。”他放低了声音，却让他的话听上去更有说服力了。
“朱莉的叔叔出生时脐带绕颈两周。前一秒钟他还是个完全正常的婴儿，就像你儿子布莱斯一样，后一秒钟他就留下了永久性的创伤。”
妈妈忽然歇斯底里地爆发了。几秒钟之内，她哭得泪如泉涌，爸爸搂着她，试图让她镇静下来，可是没有用。她根本哭得无法自拔。
利奈特扔下餐巾嘟囔着“这个家简直是个笑话”，然后走了。妈妈匆忙地离开房间，用手捂着脸，抽泣着，爸爸跟在她后面，临走时扔给外公一个我从来没见过的凶狠表情。
现在只剩外公和我对着一桌冷掉的食物。“哇，”我终于开口，“我不知道这是怎么回事。”
“他们还没有告诉你。”他对我说。
“什么意思？”
他像块花岗岩一样沉默着，然后靠在桌子上对我说：“你觉得是什么让你妈妈这么难过？”
“我……我不知道，”我挤出一个勉强的笑容，“因为她是女人？”
他几乎不动声色地笑了笑：“不对。她很难过，是因为她知道自己差一点儿就跟贝克先生有一样的遭遇。”
我认真地想了想，然后说道：“她的兄弟出生的时候也是脐带绕颈？”
他摇摇头。
“呃，那是……”
他靠得更近了，低声对我说：“是你。”
“我？”
他点点头：“绕颈两周。”
“可是……”
“给你接生的医生很能干，而且脐带绕得不算太紧，所以他能够在你出生的时候把它松开。你没有在出生的时候被自己勒死，但悲剧很可能就这样发生了。”
如果早几年，甚至早几个星期有人告诉我出生的时候可能被勒死，我一定会拿来开开玩笑，而且我大概会说，是啊，这很好，但是现在，我根本不想跟谁讨论这件事。
但是经历了这么多，我已经接近崩溃了，我的脑子里不能自已地徘徊着一个问题。如果情况不同，我会怎么样？他们会怎样对待我？听爸爸的意思，他不会花太多心思在我身上，这是肯定的。他会把我放在某个精神病院，或其他什么地方，然后忘记我的存在。但我又想，不！我是他儿子，他不会那么做……
他真的不会吗？
我环顾家里的一切——大房子，白色的地毯，古董和艺术品，诸如此类。他们会为了让我过上更好的生活而放弃这一切吗？
我很怀疑，非常怀疑。我会是个让他们难堪的东西，是他们极力想忘掉的东西。我的父母一向看重事物的外在，尤其是爸爸。
外公轻轻地说：“不要去设想没有发生的事，布莱斯。”他仿佛能看到我的想法，又加了一句，“为了他没做的事而谴责他，是不公平的。”
我点了点头，试图平静下来，却仍然思绪万千。他说：“对了，谢谢你刚才帮我说话。”
“什么？”我问，喉咙里感到一阵抽搐和肿胀。
“关于你的外婆。你怎么知道的？”
我摇摇头：“朱莉告诉我了。”
“哦？你终于跟她说话了？”
“是的。实际上，我去跟她道歉了。”
“哦！”
“这让我感觉好多了，不过现在……上帝，我觉得自己又变成浑蛋了。”
“别这样。你道歉了，这才是最重要的。”他站起来说，“我想出去走走。你要跟我一起去吗？”
出去走走？我现在只想回到房间，锁上门，一个人待着。
“我觉得这有助于清空头脑。”他说。我发现这不仅仅是出去走走——而是邀请我和他一起去做点什么。
我站了起来：“好，我们出去吧。”
外公从一个只会对我说“把盐递过来”的人，变成了一个真正健谈的朋友。我们在附近越走越远，我发现外公不只懂得很多，还是个有趣的人。这很微妙。不仅是他所谈及的东西，还有他讲话的方式。我想，这种感觉真的很酷。
在回家的路上，我们经过无花果树曾经屹立的地方，那里现在是一所房子。外公停下来望着夜空，说：“那里一定曾有过壮观的景色。”
我也把头抬起来，头一次发现这里的夜晚能看到星星。“你见过她爬上去吗？”我问他。
“有一次开车经过这里的时候，你妈妈曾指给我看过。她爬得那么高，把我吓了一跳，不过，读了那篇新闻，我明白她为什么要这么做。”他摇摇头，“树被砍掉了，可是她仍然保留着那棵树给她带来的快乐和感动。你明白我的意思吗？”
我很高兴自己不用回答这个问题。他只是笑了笑，接着说道：“有人住高楼，有人在深沟。有人光万丈，有人一身锈。世人万千种，浮云莫去求。斯人若彩虹，遇上方知有。”
走到我家的门廊，外公把手放在我的肩膀上：“很高兴跟你一起散步，布莱斯。我很开心。”
“我也是。”我告诉他。然后我们一起走进屋子。
我们马上意识到，走进了一个战场。虽然没有人叫喊哭泣，但从父母的表情我就能看出来，我和外公出门的时候，这里经历了一次重大危机。
外公悄悄地对我说：“我想，我得去修修这道‘围栏’了。”他走向客厅，去和爸爸妈妈谈一谈。
我对眼前的气氛束手无策。我直接回到房间，关上门，扑倒在床上，陷入一片黑暗。
躺在那儿，我在心里回放着晚餐时的争执。心烦意乱之间，我坐起来，望着窗外。贝克家的房子里亮着灯，街灯亮得刺眼，可是夜幕仍然是一片厚重的黑色。似乎比平时还要暗，也许更沉重。
我靠近窗户，仰望天空，但是看不到一颗星星。
我不知道朱莉有没有在夜里爬上无花果树，坐在满天星斗中间。
我摇摇头。平庸，华丽，或是灿烂。那又怎么样？对我来说，朱莉安娜·贝克从来都是平淡而枯燥的。
我打开台灯，从抽屉里翻出报道朱莉的那份报纸。
和我想的一样——他们恨不得把朱莉写成捍卫国会山的斗士。他们管她叫“来自都市荒原的强大呼声”以及“一座光芒四射的灯塔，阐明了我们的需求：遏制对我们曾经古雅安宁的社区的过度开发”。
饶了我吧。我是说，一个人为了在自己的土地上盖房子而砍掉一棵树，这有什么不对呢？那是他的土地，他的树，他的决定，就是这样。这篇文章让我想吐。
除了文中引用的朱莉自己的话。也许是为了和记者的观点作个对比，但是有关朱莉的部分并不像我想象的那样自伤自怜。我不知道该怎么说，它们看起来……呃，很深刻。坐在树上让她变得非常富有哲理。
奇怪的是，她的话我完全能够理解。她讲述了坐在树上的感觉，还说那不仅仅是空间上的区别。“远离地面，被风吹拂着，”她说，“就像你的心被美撞了一下。”你认识的哪个初中生能说出这种话？反正我的朋友里一个都没有。
不只是这些，她还说了什么整体可以远远大于组成它的各部分之和，以及人们为什么需要某些东西带着他们抽离日常生活，让他们感受到生命的奇迹。
我把关于她的部分读了一遍又一遍，想知道她什么时候开始思考这些东西。我是说，不开玩笑，朱莉安娜·贝克很聪明，但这些东西已经远远超过了功课全A的范畴。
如果我一个月前读到这篇文章，我会把它当成垃圾丢进垃圾箱，但是不知为何，它现在对我有了新的意义。非常有意义。
一个月以前，我也绝对不会注意朱莉的照片，但现在我发现自己正在盯着它看。不是那幅全景照片——那上面的紧急救援装备占的地方比朱莉还大。是另外一张照片，在下半个版面。摄影师大概用了长焦镜头，你能看到她在树上，但只露出肩膀以上的部分。她望着远方，风把头发吹向背后，仿佛她正开着一条船，驶向太阳。
这么多年，我一直躲着朱莉安娜·贝克，从来没有好好看过她的样子，而现在，我忽然无法自拔地凝视着她。这种奇怪的感觉渐渐充斥了我的胃，我不喜欢这样。一点儿也不喜欢。说实话，这种感觉把我吓得够呛。
我把报纸塞在枕头底下，试图提醒自己朱莉安娜·贝克曾经给我带来的痛苦。
可是我的思绪很快就飘向别的地方，没过多久，我又把这份愚蠢的报纸从枕头底下掏出来。
这太疯狂了！我在干什么？
我强迫自己关上灯，躺在床上。心情渐渐平复，好吧，是时候该放松点儿了。
Chapter 07
Get a Grip, Man
BRYCE
It didn't take long for me to realize that I'd traded in my old problems with Juli Baker for a whole new set of problems with Juli Baker. I could feel her anger a mile away.
It was actually worse having her mad at me than having her harass me. Why? Because I'd screwed up, that's why. I had egg all over my face, and blaming it on her yard had done nothing to wash it off. The way she ignored me, or so obviously avoided me, was a screaming loud reminder to me that I'd been a jerk. A royal cluck-faced jerk.
Then one day I'm coming home from hanging out with Garrett after school, and there's Juli in her front yard, hacking at a shrub. She is thrashing on the thing. Branches are flying over her shoulder, and clear across the street I can hear her grunting and growling and saying stuff like, "No... you... don't! You are coming... off... whether you like it or... not!"
Did I feel good about this? No, my friend, I did not. Yeah, their yard was a mess, and it was about time someone did something about it, but c'mon — where's the dad? What about Matt and Mike? Why Juli?
Because I'd embarrassed her into it, that's why. I felt worse than ever.
So I snuck inside and tried to ignore the fact that here's my desk and here's my window, and right across the street from me is Juli, beating up a bush. Not conducive to concentration. No siree, Bob. I got all of zero homework done.
The next day at school I was trying to get up the nerve to say something to her, but I never even got the chance. She wouldn't let me get anywhere near her.
Then on the ride home I had this thought. It kind of freaked me out at first, but the more I played with it, the more I figured that, yeah, helping her with the yard would make up for my having been such a jerk. Assuming she didn't boss me too much, and assuming she didn't decide to get all gooey-eyed or something stupid like that. No, I'd go up and just tell her that I felt bad for being a jerk and I wanted to make it up to her by helping her cut back some bushes. Period. End of story. And if she still wanted to be mad at me after that, then fine. That was her problem.
My problem was, I never got the chance. I came trekking down from the bus stop to find my grandfather doing my good deed.
Now, jump back. This was not something I could immediately absorb. My grandfather did not do yard work. At least, he'd never offered to help me out. My grandfather lived in house slippers —where'd he get those work boots? And those jeans and that flannel shirt —what was up with those?
I crouched behind a neighbor's hedge and watched them for ten or fifteen minutes, and man, the longer I watched, the madder I got. My grandfather had already said more to her in this little slice of time than he'd said to me the whole year and a half he'd been living with us. What was his deal with Juli Baker?
I took the back way home, which involved climbing two fences and kicking off the neighbor's stupid little terrier, but it was worth it, considering I avoided the garden party across the street.
Again I got no homework done. The more I watched them, the madder I got. I was still a cluck-faced jerk, while Juli was laughing it up with my grandfather. Had I ever seen him smile? Really smile? I don't think so! But now he was knee-high in nettles, laughing.
At dinner that night he'd showered and changed back into his regular clothes and house slippers, but he didn't look the same. It was like someone had plugged him in and turned on the light.
Good evening, he said as he sat down with the rest of us. "Oh, Patsy, that looks delicious!"
Well, Dad, my mom said with a laugh, "your excursion across the street seems to have done you a world of good."
Yeah, my father said. "Patsy tells me you've been over there all afternoon. If you were in the mood for home improvement projects, why didn't you just say so?"
My father was just joking around, but I don't think my grandfather took it that way. He helped himself to a cheese-stuffed potato and said, "Pass the salt, won't you, Bryce?"
So there was this definite tension between my father and my grandfather, but I think if Dad had dropped the subject right then, the vibe would've vanished.
Dad didn't drop it, though. Instead, he said, "So why's the girl the one who's finally doing something about their place?"
My grandfather salted his potato very carefully, then looked across the table at me. Ah-oh, I thought. Ah-oh. In a flash I knew those stupid eggs were not behind me. Two years of sneaking them in the trash, two years of avoiding discussion of Juli and her eggs and her chickens and her early-morning visits, and for what? Granddad knew, I could see it in his eyes. In a matter of seconds he'd crack open the truth, and I'd be as good as fried.
Enter a miracle. My grandfather petrified me for a minute with his eyes but then turned to my father and said, "She wants to, is all."
A raging river of sweat ran down my temples, and as my father said, "Well, it's about time someone did," my grandfather looked back at me and I knew — he was not going to let me forget this. We'd just had another conversation, only this time I was definitely not dismissed.
After the dishes were cleared, I retreated to my room, but my grandfather came right in, closed the door behind him, and then sat on my bed. He did this all without making a sound. No squeaking, no clanking, no scraping, no breathing ... I swear, the guy moved through my room like a ghost.
And of course I'm banging my knee and dropping my pencil and deteriorating into a pathetic pool of Jell-O. But I tried my best to sound cool as I said, "Hello, Granddad. Come to check out the digs?"
He pinched his lips together and looked at nothing but me.
I cracked. "Look, Granddad, I know I messed up. I should've just told her, but I couldn't. And I kept thinking they'd stop. I mean, how long can a chicken lay eggs? Those thing shatched in the fifth grade! That was like, three years ago! Don't they eventually run out? And what was I supposed to do? Tell her Mom was afraid of salmonella poisoning? And Dad wanted me to tell her we were allergic — c'mon, who's going to buy that? So I just kept, you know, throwing them out. I didn't know she could've sold them. I thought they were just extras."
He was nodding, but very slowly.
I sighed and said, "Thank you for not saying anything about it at dinner. I owe you."
He pulled my curtain aside and looked across the street. "One's character is set at an early age, son. The choices you make now will affect you for the rest of your life." He was quiet for a minute, then dropped the curtain and said, "I hate to see you swim out so far you can't swim back."
Yes, sir.
He frowned and said, "Don't yes-sir me, Bryce." Then he stood and added, "Just think about what I've said, and the next time you're faced with a choice, do the right thing. It hurts everyone less in the long run."
With that, poof, he was gone.
The next day I went to shoot some hoops at Garrett's after school, and when his mom dropped me off later that afternoon, my granddad didn't even notice. He was too busy being Joe Carpenter in Juli's front yard.
I tried to do my homework at the breakfast bar, but my mom came home from work and started being all chatty, and then Lynetta appeared and the two of them started fighting about whether Lynetta's makeup made her look like a wounded raccoon.
Lynetta. I swear she'll never learn.
I packed up my stuff and escaped to my room, which, of course, was a total waste. They've got a saw revving and wailing across the street, and in between cuts I can hear the whack, whack, whack! whack, whack, whack! of a hammer. I look out the window and there's Juli, spitting out nails and slamming them in place. No kidding. She's got nails lined up between her lips like steel cigarettes, and she's swinging that hammer full-arc, way above her head, driving nails into pickets like they're going into butter.
For a split second there, I saw my head as the recipient of her hammer, cracking open like Humpty Dumpty. I shuddered and dropped the curtain, ditched the homework, and headed for the TV.
They handymanned all week. And every night Granddad would come in with rosy cheeks and a huge appetite and compliment my mom on what a great cook she was. Then Saturday happened. And the last thing I wanted was to spend the day at home while my grandfather churned up dirt and helped plant Juli's yard. Mom tried to get me to do our own yard, but I would have felt ridiculous micromowing our grass with Granddad and Juli making real changes right across the street.
So I locked myself in my room and called Garrett. He wasn't home, and everybody else I called had stuff they had to do. And hitting up Mom or Dad for a ride to the movies or the mall was hopeless. They'd tell me I was supposed to be doing the yard.
What I was, was stuck.
And what I wound up doing was looking out the stupid window at Juli and my grandfather. It was a totally lame thing to do, but that's what I did.
I got nailed doing it, too. By my grandfather. And he, of course, had to point me out to Juli, which made me feel another two inches shorter. I dropped the curtain and blasted out the back door and over the fence. I had to get out of there.
I swear I walked ten miles that day. And I don't know who I was madder at — my grandfather, Juli, or me. What was wrong with me? If I wanted to make it up to Juli, why didn't I just go over there and help? What was stopping me?
I wound up at Garrett's house, and man, I'd never been so glad to see anyone in my life. Leave it to Garrett to get your mind off anything important. That dude's the master. We went out back and shot hoops,watched the tube, and talked about hitting the water slides this summer.
And when I got home, there was Juli, sprinkling the yard.
She saw me, all right, but she didn't wave or smile or anything. She just looked away.
Normally what I'd do in that situation is maybe pretend like I hadn't seen her, or give a quick wave and charge inside. But she'd been mad at me for what seemed like ages. She hadn't said word one to me since the morning of the eggs. She'd completely dissed me in math a couple days before when I'd smiled at her, trying to tell her I was sorry. She didn't smile back or nod or anything. She just turned away and never looked back.
I even waited for her outside the classroom to say something, anything, about her fixing up the yard and how bad I felt, but she ditched me out the other door, and after that anytime I got anywhere near her, she'd find some way to skate around me.
So there she was, watering the yard, making me feel like a jerk, and I'd had enough of it. I went up to her and said, "It's looking real good, Juli. Nice job."
Thanks, she said without smiling. "Chet did most of it."
Chet? I thought. Chet? What was she doing, calling my grandfather by his first name? "Look, Juli," I said, trying to get on with why I was there. "I'm sorry for what I did."
She looked at me for a second, then went back to watching the water spray across the dirt. Finally she said, "I still don't get it, Bryce.Why didn't you just tell me?"
I... I don't know. It was dumb. I should have. And I shouldn't have said anything about the yard, either. It was, you know, out of line.
I was already feeling better. A lot better. Then Juli says, "Well, maybe it's all for the better," and starts bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, acting more like her old self. "Doesn't it look great? I learned so much from Chet it's amazing. You are so lucky. I don't even have grandparents anymore."
Oh, I said, not knowing what to say.
I do feel sorry for him, though. He sure misses your grandmother. Then she laughs and shakes her head, saying, "Can you believe it? He says I remind him of her."
What?
Yeah, she laughs again. "That's what I said. But he meant it in a nice way."
I looked at Juli and tried to picture my grandmother as an eighth grader. It was hopeless. I mean, Juli's got long, fluffy brown hair and a nose full of freckles, where my grandmother had always been some variety of blond. And my grandmother had used powder. Puffy white powder. She'd put it on her face and in her hair, in her slippers and on her chest... That woman powdered everything.
I could not see Juli coated in powder. Okay, maybe gun powder, but the white perfume stuff? Forget it.
I guess I was staring, because Juli says, "Look, I didn't say it, he did. I just thought it was nice, that's all."
Yeah, whatever. Well, good luck with the grass. I'm sure it'll come up great. Then I totally surprised myself by saying, "Knowing you, you'll get 'em all to hatch." I didn't say it mean or anything, I really meant it. I laughed, and then she laughed, and that's how I left her — sprinkling her soon-to-be sod, smiling.
I hadn't been in such a good mood in weeks. The eggs were finally behind me. I was absolved. Relieved. Happy.
It took me a few minutes at the dinner table to realize that I was the only one who was. Lynetta had on her usual pout, so that wasn't it. But my father's idea of saying hello was to lay into me about the lawn.
No sweat, I told him. "I'll do it tomorrow."
All that got me was a scowl.
Then Mom says to my granddad, "You tired tonight, Dad?"
I hadn't even noticed him sitting there like a stone.
Yeah, my father tosses down the table at him. "That girl working you too hard?"
My grandfather straightens his fork on his napkin and says, "'That girl' is named Juli, and no, she isn't 'working me too hard,' as you so callously put it."
Callous? Me? My dad laughs and says, "Developed quite a soft spot for that girl, haven't you?"
Even Lynetta let her pout go for a minute. These were fighting words and everyone knew it. Mom nudged Dad with her foot, but that only made things worse. "No, Patsy! I want to know why your father has the energy and inclination to befriend a complete stranger when he's never done so much as toss a baseball around with his own grandson!"
Well, yeah! I thought. But then I remembered — I owed my grandfather. Owed him big-time. Without thinking, I said, "Take it easy, Dad. Juli just reminds him of Grandma."
Everyone clammed up and stared at me. So I looked at my grandfather and said, "Uh... isn't that right, Granddad?"
He nodded and rearranged his fork some more.
Of Renée? My father looked at my mother and then at Granddad. "She can't possibly!"
My granddad closed his eyes and said, "It's her spirit that reminds me of Renée."
Her spirit, my father says. Like he's talking to a lying kindergartner.
Yes, her spirit. My grandfather's quiet for a minute, then asks, "Do you know why the Bakers haven't fixed up the yard until now?"
Why? Sure. They're trash, that's why. They've got a beat-up house, two beat-up cars, and a beat-up yard.
They are not trash, Rick. They are good, honest, hardworking people —
Who have absolutely no pride in how they present themselves to the rest of the world. We've lived across the street from those people for over six years, and there is no excuse for the state they're in.
No? My grandfather takes a deep breath and seems to weigh things in his mind for a few seconds. Then he says, "Tell me this, Rick. If you had a brother or sister or child who had a severe mental or physical handicap, what would you do?"
It was like my granddad had passed gas in church. My father's face pinched, his head shook, and finally he said, "Chet, what does t
