The Saturday Boy

“Where’d you hear that?”

“Dad said it in the letter.”

“Well, your dad’s right. There is a solution to everything,” she said. “I’m right down the hall if you need me, okay? I love you, Derek. Very, very much.”

“I love you, too, Mom.”

She gave me another kiss, stood, and walked out of the room, leaving the door cracked a little to let some light in.

I pulled the quilt up around my chin and stared up at Buttercup. In the half-dark I could just make out the Hellfire missiles underneath the wings. I imagined I could see her name painted in white under the cockpit and as my eyelids began to get heavy I heard a noise—soft at first but getting louder and louder until my head was filled with the sound of rotor blades chopping the air apart.

* * *

I’m buzzing over a mountain range wearing one of those old leather flight helmets with the goggles fixed over my eyes. The glare off the snowcapped peaks is blinding. Something is different. I’m sitting up front in the gunner’s seat and I never sit up front in the gunner’s seat because I’m not the gunner. I crane my neck back and forth, trying to see behind me but I’m buckled in tightly and can’t turn around all the way.

“Is anyone back there? Hello?”

My voice cracks, like when I’m trying not to cry or I’m scared. I’m not though. At least I don’t think I am. I tell myself that the reason my hands are shaking is because it’s cold.

I hear a crackling in my headset—the kind you hear when somebody’s about to say something and I listen hard for what seems like forever and then I hear the crackling noise again, which means the person on the other end is done talking even though I didn’t get to hear what they were saying.

“I can’t—I didn’t hear you! Hello?”

My headset crackles again and I close my eyes, suddenly remembering this thing Budgie said one time about blind people having superhuman hearing abilities and even though I don’t believe him I figure it can’t hurt to try.

The voice in my headset is a familiar one—one I haven’t heard in a long time. I keep my eyes closed, as if opening them would allow it to escape.

“Hey, Kiddo,” says Dad. “Mind if I fly for a while?”

So we fly like that—me up front in the gunner’s seat and Dad in the pilot’s seat behind me. The sky is big and endless and empty. No Japanese Zeros fall toward us out of the sun. We aren’t a pair of sitting ducks, caught in the Luftwaffe’s crosshairs. Not today.

22

THE NEXT DAY AFTER lunch Aunt Josie had to go to the mall and I had to go with her. Mom was working and I wasn’t allowed to stay alone in the house for that long, which I didn’t really understand. I mean, it wasn’t like the chances of something happening increased by the half-hour or anything. I was just as likely to play with matches ten minutes after being left alone as I was after an hour. I didn’t feel like arguing though so I shuffled a few steps behind Aunt Josie with my hands stuffed into my pockets and my eyes on her feet in front of me, thinking about all the TV I was missing.

“Derek!”

“What?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“It’s time to go home?”

“No. I said I need to exchange a few things in this store. You can come in but I’m warning you right now— it’s pretty girly. Do you want to wait out here for me?”

“Can I go get a doughnut?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, the food court’s right there. I’ll get a doughnut and come right back, okay? I won’t be two seconds.”

She caved then and agreed to my terms with the condition that I bring her back a doughnut as well but I was so excited about the prospect of freedom that I forgot which kind she wanted. I figured I’d just get her something with pink frosting. Or sprinkles. I was pretty sure Aunt Josie liked sprinkles.

I took my time walking down to the food court because I liked the way my reflection looked in the store windows without Mom or Aunt Josie right there with me. I looked independent—a free man at the mall just minding his own business. And if this man’s business happened to involve doughnuts, then nobody could say boo. Even if one of them did end up being pink and sprinkly.

I got in line at Mojo Donuts and started to check out the selection, but after two minutes the only concrete decision I’d made was to return as soon as humanly possible with more money and buy the place out. I ended up getting a lemon glazed French cruller for Aunt Josie and something called Da Bomb for me. It was a cream-filled chocolate doughnut with chocolate frosting and mini chocolate chips with a red licorice fuse.

The doughnuts were boxed up separately and put into a white paper bag. I took it and as I was leaving recognized someone sitting at one of the tables. There was an open Mojo Donut box in front of her with a partly eaten doughnut inside. Raspberry filled? How had I missed that one? Her nose was in a book. As usual.

“Hey, Violet!”

“Derek! Hi! What are you doing here?”

“Getting doughnuts.”

“Are you here with someone?” she asked.

“My aunt’s exchanging some stuff and I got hungry so, y’know… you?”

“My dad’s in the photo booth,” she said. “You can sit down if you want.”

“What’s he need pictures for?” I said, sliding into the chair across from her.

“He needs a new passport.”

“Where’s he going?”

“Wales.”

“Cool. Is he going to see all of them?”

“All of what?”

“All of the whales. There’s a lot of them.”

“Not the mammals,” she said, smiling. Her nose crinkled a little, making her freckles crash into each other. She only had one dimple. It was awesome. “The country.”

“Oh.”

Me and Violet sat there for a minute and didn’t say anything. She picked at her doughnut a little, breaking a piece off and scooting it around in the raspberry filling before eating it.

“He’s going to be gone for three months.”

“Three months? That’s easy. When my dad was gone I’d sometimes hold my breath for three months.”

“I know it’s not that long,” she said. “Plus I get to go visit over February vacation.”

“See? At least you’re allowed to visit. I woulda loved to visit my dad but no—it’s too dangerous, they said. There’s a war going on, they said.”

Violet laughed a little, then got quiet.

“I was sorry to hear about your father, Derek,” she said softly. “I meant to tell you earlier but never got a chance.”

It was my turn to get quiet. I stared at her doughnut and only then realized how much the raspberry filling looked like blood. I shrugged. Nodded. Mumbled “Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“That’s okay.”

“The funny thing is that just when you think you’re going to be sad the rest of your life you wake up one