“I don’t know if you need a cake, Uncle Carl. But here, I brought the info from the website.” I pull out the papers I printed at school and walk over to him. “Maybe it will say somewhere in this.”
He glances at them as he washes cake batter off a giant bowl. “Jeez, I might as well be paying for actual airplane tickets. Isn’t it just a basket, a balloon, and a whole lot of hot air?”
The phone rings and he ignores it because he hates talking on the phone.
He reads from the printout. “‘Sunset balloon ride for two with champagne landing.’ Now that sounds romantic to me.”
“I wish we could go with you,” I say, knowing there isn’t enough money for two more tickets. “But maybe we can have the cake ready for when you land. A landing party.”
The phone keeps ringing and Uncle Carl smiles. “A landing party. I like that. We could have a celebration of sorts right there.”
The call goes to voicemail. Out of the machine comes Patrick’s voice. “Carl. Pick up. I’m trying to find Jack. Rosie said Jack was with you two. Tell her to get home now.” There’s a pause that seems to go on for minutes. Then he says, “Birdie was suspended.” And then a click.
Uncle Carl and I stare at each other.
And then I’m throwing my backpack on and going through the door. Uncle Carl calls out, “Don’t you want to call to let him know you’re on your way?”
But I’m already down the stairs, sprinting along the sidewalk, my feet making slapping sounds with every step.
As I pass the ramshackle deli on the edge of town, I see Janet coming out with her skateboard under her arm.
“Hey Jacko. Marathon train much?”
“No. Um, something happened to Birdie and I have to get home fast.”
She looks at me for a second and then back at the deli, where some high school girls come out, showing each other their phones and laughing. She puts her skateboard under her foot and takes a cigarette out and holds it between her fingers. She says, “Actually, I just heard Birdie tried to kiss a boy in the bathroom or something. Is he okay? Do you want some soda or a chip? You don’t look so good.” She holds the bag out for me.
“What are you talking about?”
“Teddy Garner. He was at the Stop-and-Go telling anyone who will listen that your brother is gay and tried to kiss him.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Don’t worry, Jack. He’s known to cause trouble. You know Teddy is a grade A idiot. He can’t help it. It’s genetic. Look at his dad. I can’t believe my mom hangs out with that guy. Ross is a bully and now he’s raising more bullies. Hey seriously, you look a little pale. Take a drink of soda.”
I shake my head. “I really need to go.”
“Okay. Well, let me know what happens.”
I nod and hitch my backpack up so I can run. “I’ll call you later.” Then I’m off speeding toward the highway.
• • •
Inside, Patrick’s house is dark and quiet. None of the curtains are open.
It’s not that late, but with all the curtains closed it feels like night. Upstairs, in the hall, there’s light underneath both of their doors.
I wait by Birdie’s.
You know those anxious moments when your body stops and all you can hear is your heart beating like it climbed right up your neck into your ear?
“Knock, knock,” I whisper.
His bed creaks, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Knock, knock,” I say again.
He doesn’t answer.
“Are you okay, Birdie? I’m going to start dinner. Come down if you want.”
Still nothing.
I drop my bag in my bedroom and it hits the floor with a thud, and I go back downstairs to boil water for spaghetti.
Just when I think that maybe neither of them are coming down, Patrick shows up, followed closely by Duke. I fix him a bowl of spaghetti without waiting for him to ask, mostly because it gives me something to do. We eat for a while before Patrick finally says something.
“You hear about Birdie?”
“Yeah.”
“You talk to him yet about that boy at school?”
There are two pieces of pasta left in my bowl. I push them around, wondering what he knows. “No. I haven’t seen him yet. What happened?”
“He’s suspended tomorrow.”
I set my fork down. “What for?”
“Birdie was in some kind of fight in the boys’ bathroom. He refuses to talk about it with me or anyone, but both him and the other student are suspended. The school has a zero-tolerance policy for violence.”
“Birdie doesn’t start fights. And Janet said that Teddy is known for causing trouble.”
His fork stops midway to his mouth. “It doesn’t matter what Janet says. Birdie needs to learn how to blend in.” His voice is low and gravelly. “You don’t live at my brother’s anymore. Birdie can’t be running around however he wants. Dressing however he wants.” He takes his bite of food. “It makes him a target. And running away won’t solve anything.”
“But he’s not doing anything wrong!”
“That is not up for discussion.” Patrick looks at me over his fork of spaghetti. “I have a job in the next county tomorrow morning that I can’t skip. You’ll have to stay home with him. I’ll call your school and let them know you’ll be out. I’ll be back around lunchtime.” He takes a drink of his water and wipes his mouth. “I want you to make sure he stays inside the house. No wandering around. No bus ride stunts. No visits to Carl’s place.”
“Like forever?”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
The last noodle left in the bowl is always kind of sad-looking. I chop it into tiny pieces with my fork.
Patrick eats his last bite and goes to the sink. “You two will adjust.” He rinses his bowl and cup and adds some soap to a sponge. “You can’t be missing
