Stupid Fast

Chapter 44: ESCAPE




Because it was the middle of the day, I assumed that Aleah would be asleep and Ronald would be at the college. There was nobody around to pick us up, so I’d have to ride the bike, even though that jerk Ken Johnson (sorry) had broken my back. I stayed out in the driveway and tried to stretch, in complete pain. Meanwhile, Andrew ran into the house and pulled a bunch of my sweats out and stuck them in a backpack. There was no reason to pack clothes for him because he only owned his pirate outfit. He did grab our toothbrushes and my deodorant. (“You smell sometimes,” he said. “You smell like you haven’t showered in a month,” I said. “That’s fair,” he said.) He also grabbed Jerri’s address book, which wasn’t easy because it was in the desk drawer in her room. He snuck in. She rolled over while he was in there but stayed asleep.

“What in the world would I have said?” he asked. “Felton and I are running away. We’ll send Grandma?”

“She would have strangled you,” I said.

“With her sweaty sheet,” Andrew said.

I laughed.

“It’s not funny. It’s true,” Andrew said.

We began to ride down the drive. Then I stopped.

“Andrew,” I said. “We need my phone charger.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I want to keep my life. It’s really important to me. The charger’s on my night stand.”

Andrew was inside for a couple of minutes. When he came out, he was trying to hold it together. Jerri was behind him. My stomach dropped. Andrew stared at me as he moved forward. He was definitely shaking. Jerri was in her robe. Her hair was frizzed out, and there was no color in her face, and she was super skinny. She followed him through the garage and onto the drive, where she squinted in the summer light. She looked like she hadn’t seen the sun in weeks, which was probably true.

“Felton,” she said. “Andrew won’t tell me what he’s doing.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’re going for a bike ride.”

“You’re what?” She shook her head.

“Just a bike ride, Jerri.” She looked confused. She probably was confused. “Don’t worry, Jerri. It’s going to be okay,” I said.

“Okay, Felton,” she nodded. “You give me a call. Okay?”

Maybe she wasn’t confused.

“Okay, Jerri,” I said.

At the end of the driveway, I looked back. Jerri was still standing there outside the garage.

“Does she know what we’re doing?” Andrew asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

***

It was probably good for my back to be riding the Varsity. It hurt like crazy to go up the hill on the main road, but by the time Andrew and me got to the top, I was sweating, and my back was looser. Because he’s small and really isn’t and will never be an athlete, Andrew rode incredibly slow. I could’ve biked circles around him. If my back didn’t hurt, I probably would have. We only had one conversation as we rode. It was very short.

Going up the hill, I said, “Andrew, why did you burn your clothes?”

“I wanted to scare Jerri into talking to me.”

“That backfired.”

“Yes. She told me the only way to move forward is to destroy the past.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I said.

“It makes no sense,” Andrew said.

“I mean, that explains her behavior.”

“Her whole stupid life.”

We didn’t say anything else as we rode, just pedaled. But when we hit the edge of my paper route, Andrew stopped.

“I think we should call Grandma Berba now,” he said.

“Why?” I really didn’t want to call her.

“Because she’s a terrible person and if she tells us…you know…tells us where to stick it, we’ll have a different situation on our hands. You know what I mean, Felton?”

“No.”

“I want to have our situation in hand before we go to the Jenningses so we can tell them what’s going on truthfully and completely,” he said.

“Oh, yeah. You’re smart.”

“Yes,” Andrew said. He swung his backpack around and pulled out Jerri’s address book. Then he handed it to me.

“You call,” he said.

No. No. No. Grandma Berba has never liked us—me and Andrew knew it. She called on our birthdays, said happy birthday, and then hung up. At Christmas, she’d send cards to Andrew and me and always wrote “Happy Chanukah” in them because our father was Jewish, even though there was always a Christmas tree or a baby Jesus on the front. She’d also send ten dollars. She never came to visit. She never invited us to Arizona. She moved there right before I was born. I only remembered her at all because she was around right after Dad died. Before she went back to Arizona, she shouted at Jerri. I don’t remember what it was about, but Jerri shouted back. Jerri freaked on her. She wasn’t a very good grandma. Jerri wouldn’t ever even talk about her. So I wasn’t exactly excited to make the call. I found her number in the address book.

“Okay,” I said to Andrew. “I’m calling.”

I punched in the numbers real slow. My heart pounded. My back hurt. I pressed the Call button and then held my breath. All this fear expanded in my chest. My phone hand was shaking. In a second, the phone at Grandma Berba’s was ringing. It rang three times. Then someone picked up.

“Hello,” the voice said. But it seemed too young to be a grandma.

“Um, could I talk to Carol Berba?”

“Speaking.”

“Grandma?” I said.

There was a long pause.

“Yes?”

“This is Felton. Felton Reinstein.”

“I know who this is, child.”

“We…Me and Andrew…”

“Tell me you’re safe.”

“I…I don’t know…” And then I just started sobbing. I couldn’t hold it in. I was totally sucking air. Gulp. Gulp. Gulp. Snot poured out my nose like in that football movie with the broken legs, and my eyes burned. I choked. Finally, I got out: “Grandma?”

“I’ve been expecting this call for ten years. What’s your phone number? Is it the phone you just dialed from?”

“Yes.”

“Felton. Please. Are you safe?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll call you back in ten minutes with my itinerary. You hold on, Felton.”

I hung up the phone and looked at Andrew. He was bawling.

“She’s not interested in us, huh?” he said.

“No. No. She’s coming.”