Caterpillars Can't Swim Read online

  He’s not the only one. I didn’t think this one through. Cody is going to throw a complete shit fit if Jack actually says yes.

  “It’s this summer in Bainesville, which is only a few hours away from here. I’ve always wanted to go to one, and it might be fun for you too. Even if you’re not into graphic novel stuff, it would be a chance to, I don’t know, get away from here for a while. Out into the real world.”

  “You want me to go to a fantasy comic book festival so that I can experience the real world.” Sarcasm drips from each word as he shakes his head at me. I just laugh…mostly at myself because he does have a point.

  “Bainesville is a hell of a lot bigger than here, and there’ll be people there from all over the place, and everyone is totally weird so no one thinks anyone else is weird. You get to go in costume if you want. You can be whoever you want to be for one whole day.” I’m making this up as I go along and probably digging myself a really nice deep hole to fall into.

  Jack looks directly at me, his eyes seeming interested for a second before they go dark again. He shakes his head.

  “I don’t know. My mom is pretty much stalking me still. I’m not sure she’d be cool with me going away overnight.”

  “Well, it’s not until late July, so maybe she’d be okay with it by then.” Or maybe she’ll never be okay with it, and then I won’t have to deal with the wrath of Cody.

  “Sure. Whatever. I’ll think about it. See you later,” he says, looking less than thrilled with my brilliant suggestion as he turns away from me and heads down toward the restaurant.

  As I watch him walk for a bit, I get the distinct feeling that I didn’t manage to make anything better. I think I somehow made it worse.

  I can’t think of anything else to do, so I just head for home. When I get there, Cody is on the front porch, using my ramp for skateboard tricks. I get a sudden pain right in the middle of my forehead as I imagine having to tell him what I just did.

  “Check it out!” he yells at me as I come up the driveway. He flies down the ramp and tries to jump off his board and spin around. At least I think that’s what he’s trying to do, but I can’t be sure because he mostly just flies up into the air and comes crashing down onto the driveway, grinning in front of me.

  “Guess I need a bit more practice.”

  “Steve will fry your ass if you hurt yourself. It’s bad enough that I’m just starting to get my shoulder back into shape. He can’t afford to lose you too.”

  “I’m tougher than that. It’ll take more than a skateboard to take me out! Besides, you’ll be back soon. I timed you yesterday. You’re getting faster.”

  “Yeah, so fast I can almost make it down the whole pool without stopping more than three times to rest. I don’t think I’ll be back to full competition level until next term, maybe not even then.” I’m so pissed with my body these days. Even though my shoulder is obviously healing, my swimming is still nowhere close to being as strong or as fast as it needs to be yet.

  “Sucks to be you. You aren’t pissed at Jack for doing this to you? You seem to spend a lot of time with someone who totally screwed up your year.”

  He has a good point. But I don’t really think about it that way. I mean, Jack didn’t ask me to fling myself dramatically into the water.

  I still wish it didn’t happen.

  Mostly, I wish Jack’s life didn’t suck so much that he ended up in the river in the first place.

  “I don’t spend that much time with him. And it will be even less now that I’m going to be starting back to practices for the rest of the month. It’s been pretty boring this term without anything much to do after school. Hanging with Jack’s been better than nothing.” On the other hand, hanging with Jack and Cody at Comic Con might definitely be worse than nothing.

  The hole is getting deeper by the second.

  “Okay. Whatever you say. Anyway, I don’t have anything to do right now, so you can hang with me. I’m bored.”

  “Lucky me. So, what do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know. You can watch me practice my skateboarding while we talk about the trip.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  Cody nods cheerfully, missing the sarcasm. “It will be. You get to critique my style. You can channel big Steve and bitch me out while we figure out how to get you a decent costume.” He heads back up the ramp to set up the next death defying challenge. I shake my head at him but can’t help grinning at the same time.

  I think I’ll wait a while before telling him that I invited Jack.

  Fifteen

  “So, I’ve been thinking about your idea.” Jack’s sitting on the edge of the bridge, swinging his legs over the water while I try to not imagine him rolling forward and into the river.

  I keep telling Cody to stop thinking about what Jack did and just let him get on with his life. I obviously need to tell myself the same thing.

  “Yeah?” It’s been more than a week since I first mentioned it to him. I was actually hoping he’d forgotten all about it.

  Cody’s getting more excited every day, even though he doesn’t like my costume. He’s going as Captain America because he thinks it fits his personality. I kind of thought he should go as Tigger, which would likely be a total original, but he shoved me backwards into the swimming pool and threatened to sit on my head when I suggested it. Cody thinks I should go as Xavier, which is what everyone would expect me to do, which is exactly why I’m not going to do it. I thought Cody had more imagination than that. Anyway, he is not impressed with my Wolverine costume, which I ordered online and is totally kickass.

  He would be even less impressed with my bringing Jack along. To put it mildly.

  “It kind of sounds like it could be okay.” Jack’s looking down at his swinging feet.

  “Don’t get too enthusiastic or anything,” I say, laughing. He shrugs and smiles a little.

  “Yeah, well, it’s pretty complicated but I came up with kind of a plan that I’ve been trying.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, my counselor hasn’t been very thrilled with my progress because I don’t actually like to talk to him because I haven’t had anything to say.”

  “Must be pretty quiet.”

  “Very. Mostly we’ve just been sitting there while he waits for me to open up or whatever he calls it. Anyway, in my last session I started talking…just a little. Telling him shit like how hard the divorce has been on me and crap like that. I thought if he figured I was actually making what he thinks is progress, admitting I’ve been having problems, he might help me get my mom onside for the trip. It’s just one night, right?”

  “Well, it depends on a couple of things we’re still trying to figure out, but probably just one.”

  “What kinds of things?”

  “Well, transportation for one thing. Accommodation for the other.”

  “Wouldn’t we just we take the bus?” he asks.

  “I don’t think we can. At least not around here. We found that out the hard way when my mom and I needed to go to the city one time when our car wasn’t working. My mother was so pissed I thought she was going to pound on the bus driver because he wouldn’t let me on!”

  “He actually wouldn’t let you on?” He looks at me surprised.

  “Nope. I had a ticket and everything. But he told us the long distance buses around here don’t have lifts so they’re only accessible if you can walk well enough to get yourself up the stairs. He said that the ticket agent shouldn’t have sold me a ticket without checking first and that I couldn’t just randomly get on a bus that wasn’t equipped for people like me. That any bus driver had the right to refuse to let me on if he was worried about how I would get off in an emergency or whatever.”

  “Man, that sucks. It’s weird, I don’t really think about what being in the chair means for you. Maybe because we b
asically met when you were busy saving my life. I don’t know. But I just never thought about the shit you have to deal with.” He seems concerned that he did something wrong.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it. For stuff like this, it just means that I have to do a bit more planning than other people do. No big deal.”

  I still remember the look on my mother’s face when they turned us away. It seemed like a big deal to her. Her face was red and her eyes were full of tears. She actually clenched her fists when she was talking to the driver, and I thought she might swing one in his direction.

  The rule on the buses around here is that they’ll transport your scooter or chair as luggage so long as you’re mobile enough to get yourself onto the bus. So, basically, I’m not welcome.

  I don’t want to travel on their smelly instruments of travel torture anyway. Trains are better. At least the ones I’ve been on are. They have wheelchair accessible cars and special entrance ramps and lifts, depending on the particular train. The people there help you on and off and treat you like a human. The only problem is that there aren’t nearly as many trains as buses, plus the nearest train station is almost an hour away. So unless the bus system changes, I’ll have to get my license and drive myself everywhere if I want to be completely independent. Which means I’ll have to have my own car. Silver lining.

  I’m pretty sure for this trip the plan was for Cody to drive us in his older brother’s car. Don’t think that would be a selling point with Jack, so I’ll hold on to it for now.

  Jack’s sitting quietly while I go on a mind tour. He’s probably having one of his own, trying to figure out if a weekend at Comic Con is worth the effort.

  “Anyway, I’m still figuring out the transportation stuff, but I’ll take care of that part and let you know.”

  “And you said the other thing was accommodation?”

  “Right. I think I have that figured out. I have a friend in Bainesville. Well, not exactly a friend. A guy I met in the hospital rehab center there a few years ago when I was recovering from one of my surgeries.”

  “One of your surgeries?”

  “Yeah, I’ve had a few.” I look down at my legs.

  “What kind?”

  “Different things. All related to my CP.”

  “CP?”

  “Cerebral Palsy. It’s what makes my legs like this. There’re a lot of different types, and pretty much everyone who has it is affected in their own way. I mostly have problems from the knees down, although I’ve had some hip problems too, and also a few seizures when I was younger.”

  “Shit.” He looks surprised.

  “Yeah, it’s mostly shit. But lots of kids are worse off than me so I guess it’s all relative. Anyway, I had surgery on my legs a few times. My muscles and tendons stiffen up and cause bad cramping. My feet are all twisted up, and my ankles are screwed up too. The surgeries were to try to ease some stress. When I was really little, I think they were hoping that I could be helped enough to be able to walk, but that was a no go.” I shrug my shoulders. “Anyway, I met Jacob when I was in rehab, like I was saying. He’s older than us, by like three years or so, but he’s cool. We’ve kept in touch a bit, and I asked him if we could stay there. He said his parents wouldn’t mind, so we have that option.”

  “My mom might actually be okay with something like that, especially if my counselor tells her he’s making me all better.” He puts a sarcastic spin on the last word.

  “Sounds good to me. In the meantime, you should do some research and figure out a costume. I’m doing Wolverine.” No comment. Either Jack doesn’t think it’s weird for Wolverine to be in a chair or he doesn’t actually know who Wolverine is.

  “Yeah, I’ll really have to think about that part. I don’t really read a lot of comics but I’ve seen a few movies. I used to dream I was a superhero.” He says the last part quickly, looking a little embarrassed.

  “Seriously? Which one?”

  “Just one I made up. Jay the Great. Original, I know! I used to fly around saving the lives of kids in my school. No one ever recognized me even though I don’t think I had much of a disguise. I wore turquoise spandex with a hot pink cape, sort of like Superman with a makeover, which no one thought was weird because everyone loved me in dreamland. I even dreamt that the school burned down one night and I saved the asshole in my class who loved to make my life shit during the day but didn’t know me when I flew him safely out of the inferno at night. I can still see him blubbering, snot all dripping down his face while he thanked me.”

  “Sounds intense.”

  “I was eight. It all seemed cool to me. Anyway, I don’t think I’ll come as Jay the Great.” He laughs a little.

  “Well, you need to give yourself time to order something or make it if you know how to do that kind of stuff. Do you have any money?” I didn’t think about that part before. His mom’s a waitress and his dad’s living somewhere else. Maybe he can’t afford to come.

  “Some. I bus tables sometimes at the restaurant and I get to keep what I make so I can buy stuff my mom can’t afford. I think I have enough if I decide to come.”

  “Okay. Well, I hope you do. It’ll be fun!” My voice is too loud and enthusiastic, like a cheerleader hyped up on energy drinks. He looks a bit startled and then gets up.

  “I have to head to the restaurant now.”

  “Yeah, I have to motor too. Cody is likely waiting at the pool by now.”

  Cody.

  Shit.

  I still haven’t told either of them that there could be three of us on this road trip.

  Sixteen

  “You did what?” Cody looks at me like he wishes we were still in the pool so he could drown me. I decided to wait until after we finished practice and were safely on dry land. Just in case.

  Obviously a good call.

  “I invited Jack to Comic Con.” I repeat it even though he obviously heard me the first time.

  “Why…why would you do that? What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t want some little gay drowning victim nut case screwing up my weekend. Shit. Seriously, Ryan, you act like you’re in love with the guy or something.” He’s pacing up and down the ramp in front of the community center, stomping his feet like a three-year-old having a temper tantrum.

  “Now you’re just saying stupid shit.”

  “No, you’re the one saying stupid shit. Inviting that guy on our trip is seriously, seriously stupid shit!” He smacks his hand on the railing so hard that he hurts himself.

  “Fuck!” He yells as he grabs his hand and presses it against his chest, wincing.

  “Can you just calm down for two seconds and let me explain?” I need to think fast because I don’t really have a reasonable explanation. What do I tell him? That I was feeling sorry for Jack one day because his eyes were turning into black holes, so I invited him to Comic Con without asking Cody first? It even sounds pathetic inside my own head.

  Cody looks at me with murder pretty clearly written in both eyes, shaking his head and his sore hand at the same time.

  “I’m perfectly calm. I’ve never been calmer. See how calm I am? Just go ahead and explain why you want to wreck our one chance to go to Comic Con.” He stretches his mouth across his face in a really creepy imitation of a smile. I’m glad I’m at the bottom of the ramp instead of the top where he could give me a friendly push to help me down.

  I take a deep breath, praying to whatever gods might be out there that I can find something to say that will sound remotely reasonable to the fire-breathing version of Cody.

  “Jack’s not a bad guy. He’s just dealing with some crap in his life. I’ve been trying to be a friend to him, I guess. Mostly because I’ve had the time but partly because he’s okay to hang around with, too. He doesn’t have many friends, and I just thought it would be nice for him to get a chance to get out of this place for a bit after al
l that happened.”

  “All that happened…meaning he tried to drown himself and you had to risk your life saving his sorry ass!” Cody looks even angrier, if that’s possible.

  “I didn’t risk my life. I just helped him, that’s all.” What is he so pissed about?

  “You just helped him. You live in a fucking wheelchair. You threw yourself into the water, screwed up your shoulder, and still had to swim with the guy and get him to shore. You seriously don’t get that you both could have died?” His eyes are shooting sparks.

  “I’m a strong swimmer. Just like you. You would have done the same thing if you’d been there.”

  He closes his eyes for a few seconds and does a few deep breathing exercises. When he looks at me again, he doesn’t seem quite as pissed, but then he doesn’t seem quite ready for a happy dance either.

  “I don’t think I would have done anything. Maybe called 9-1-1. I don’t think I would have thrown myself in the river for some stranger.” He’s shaking his head.

  “I don’t believe that at all. You’re the strongest swimmer in the school. You’ve got your life saving certificate. Shit, you work as a lifeguard in the summer at the pool. I know you would have saved him.”

  “Nice that you think so. I’m not so sure. And I know that even if I had saved him, I wouldn’t have decided I had to be his friend, too. The guy’s like a pariah at school. Everyone knows he’s gay. It’s not exactly helping your cool factor to be hanging with him.”

  “In the first place, no one knows anything about him.” Except me. “And in the second place, I don’t give a shit about anyone’s opinion. I know I’m cool.” I try a grin in his general direction. He just scowls at me.

  “So, is he actually gay or what?”

  “Why are you even asking me that? I just told you no one knows. Why does it even matter?”

  “Everyone says it. I also heard that he’s depressed. And I think someone said he’s schizoid. Oh, and I heard that he’s been doing heavy drugs.”

  “Sounds like you know everything you need to. And then some.” I don’t know why everyone doesn’t just get over it already.