more work.”
So he doubled his staff, and cut his own hours in half, leaving the stress for someone else. He even has time to cook at home with Mom again, and watch a game or two on the weekends with me.
“When I finally go, I’m sure it’ll be a heart attack,” he said to me. “But let’s hope I go like your grandpa”— whose ticker didn’t give out until he was pushing eighty-eight.
I went back to their block a few months later, out of curiosity more than anything else. The house was still empty, and still at the center of a dust bowl. The bank that now owned the home was still trying to find a buyer— but, see, my sister, in her attempt to keep Ichabod undisturbed, had started a rumor that the backyard didn’t just contain a single cat grave—it was, in fact, a local pet cemetery, and the final resting place of a hundred neighborhood critters—not all of them resting in peace.
Funny thing about rumors, the harder a rumor is to believe, the more likely it’s going to chase buyers away. Serves the bank right.
As I approached the house that day, I saw a single weed trying to poke its way up through a crack in the pavement. The first sign that the dust bowl was over! Then, as I looked more closely at the yards all around me, I could see patches of little ugly weeds popping up everywhere. Life was coming back to the street, and I thought how appropriate that the first plants to come back will be the plants all the neighbors will kill with more herbicide. Thus is the cycle of life.
Me, I had better things to do than watch the weeds grow—because for my fifteenth birthday, my parents got me a passport, and a plane ticket. Brooklyn weeds may have their own unique charm—but I hear spring break is beautiful in Sweden!
APPENDIX 1
MORE FAKE QUOTES BY GUNNAR UMLAUT
APPENDIX 2
THE DEATH EUPHEMISMS OF SKATERDUD
Pushing Posies
Meeting the Mud
The Dirt Dance
Snooze Button Bingo
The Root Rhumba
Sucking Seaweed[5]
The Formaldehyde High
Visiting Uncle Mort
Sniffing Satin
The China Express
Bucket Soccer
The Last Lawn Party
Farm Finale
The Shovel Symphony
Chillin’ with Jimmy
Box Potato
El Sayonara Grande
APPENDIX 3
ANTSY BONANO’S TIME CONTRACT (IN ITS FINAL VERSION)
I, __________ being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath one month of my natural life to
Gunnar Umlaut, subject to the stuff listed below:
1. The month shall not be this coming May or June, or the last month of Gunnar Umlaut’s life, any leap-year Februaries, or the months of his high school or college graduations, or the month of his marriage, should he live to those dates, as those months are already reserved by others.
2. The month shall be taken from the end of my natural life, and not the middle.
3. The donated month shall be null and void if my own expiration date is less than 31 days from the date of this contract, regardless of the length of the month which is ultimately donated.
4. Should Gunnar Umlaut use my month for criminal acts such as shoplifting or serial killing, I shall not be held responsible.
5. The month shall be reduced to two weeks should Gunnar Umlaut become my enemy for any reason including but not limited to the following: familial feud, personal grudge, nonrepayment of debt, all forms of bad-mouthing, hallway bullying, refusing a reasonable request to share lunch.
6. Gunnar Umlaut, and/or his next of kin shall have no claim on property, or chunks of time beyond those granted in this contract, and said month shall have no cash value, unless mutually agreed upon, in which case I shall share equally in the cash value, without limitation, with the exception of limitations rising from the verifiable end of Gunnar Umlaut’s life, either prior to or after aforementioned end.
7. Should any disputes arise from the exchange of this month, both parties agree to submit to binding arbitration by Anthony Bonano, who in this contract shall be known as the Master of Time.
Signature