The first chapter’s called “Ruling Out Other Causes.” She flicks through and discovers that a lack of vitamin B12 can make your thinking fuzzy … but no, then Grumps would look yellowish and be wheezy and dizzy all the time.
Hydrocephalus, which means water on the brain? No, that would make him walk as if his feet were stuck to the floor and wet his pants a lot. Ick.
Irritability and confusion can be caused by severe dehydration. Yes! That must be it. Sumac slaps the book shut and races downstairs.
She bumps into MaxiMum on the Treadmill Landing. “Grumps doesn’t drink water,” she bursts out. “He boasted to me that he never touches the stuff!”
“And?”
She stops, troubled by a gap in her own logic. “So how come he’s not dead yet?”
MaxiMum laughs.
“It’s not funny. He could have severe dehydration.”
“What do you think tea’s made of? And milk, and juice, and lemonade, and fruit, and vegetables?”
“Oh,” says Sumac, feeling dumb.
Going back upstairs, she wishes she’d known the old man years ago so she could tell how his mind used to work, and figure out how holey it is now by comparison. Like, CardaMom, say — if she suddenly resorted to the calculator app on her phone to add up eleven croissants plus tax, you’d know there was something terribly wrong. Whereas PopCorn would never be able to add the tax onto one item, not even with that giant foot-shaped calculator Brian loves. Which is OK, because no two minds work the same way. For instance, Aspen’s is speedy and prone to crashing, like a race car. Sic’s chess buddy in Osaka has a word for this: neuro something, not neurosis…. Neurodiversity, that’s it: differentness of brains.
Sumac’s own mind (which she generally thinks of as a pretty good one) is going in slow and pointless circles today. Not like a race car at all; more like the Zhaos’ Poop Cube with burst tires.
But she does have one idea for a brain test she can do on Grumps. Downstairs, she taps on the door that still has an unfaded portion in the shape of the Sumac’s Room sign.
When his long face appears, she asks, “Would you, ah, would you like to play chess with me?”
“What for?”
“I need to,” Sumac improvises. “It’s like homework.”
Down in Gameville, the old man examines their Greek gods set suspiciously as Sumac’s setting up the pieces. On the other side of the wall, in the Orchestra Pit, she can hear Catalpa (on guitar and vocals) and Sic (on piano) doing a cover of that Lorde song Sumac’s so tired of.
The chess game only lasts about four minutes before Grumps erupts. “You jumped over my king, you wee pup!”
“But it’s allowed,” she reminds him, “if the king and the rook haven’t —”
“It is on your nelly. Only the knight can jump.”
“Which is your nelly?” Sumac stares at the board, suddenly unsure. “We always play it that you’re allowed to castle if there’s nothing between the rook and the king and —”
“Oh, you always play it that way, do ye?” he interrupts. “Ye Lotterys? Well, that’s what the rest of us call cheating.”
“Sumac doesn’t.” Sic leans in the doorway, not smiling, for once. “Even when — you know the way little kids always try and cheat because they want to win? Sumac never has.”
The old man snorts.
“She’s just not a cheater, OK?” says Sic, louder.
“Then she’s an ig — an ig — an ignor — an ignoble who doesn’t know the rules of chess.”
Sumac’s having trouble swallowing.
“Want to play with me instead, Smackeroo?” Sic asks her.
She shakes her head, lifting the board to make a landslide. All the gods and goddesses hurtle into their box as if invading the underworld.
“What kind of animal should you never play cards with?” Aspen sticks her head into Gameville under Sic’s arm.
“Zip it, Aspen,” he mutters.
“Guess! What kind of animal should you never play cards with?” Aspen looks from face to face.
Sumac rams the lid onto the box.
“A cheetah,” cries Aspen. “Get it? Get it?”
“I’m not a cheater!” And Sumac doesn’t exactly run out, but she goes a lot faster than walking, because she’s not going to burst into tears in front of this horrible old man in case he calls her a crybaby.
*
While CardaMom and MaxiMum are out doing their weeding shift at the community garden the next afternoon and Catalpa’s off rehearsing, PapaDum serves up homemade ice pops on the Derriere. Sumac picks one studded with raspberries and chunks of peach.
“Nice little puff of breeze,” he says, stretching, but all Sumac can feel is sticky.
“Most fun thing about today?” PopCorn asks, bouncing Oak on his lap.
“I spotted a peregrine falcon,” says Wood.
“Wow!” PopCorn’s playing Horsey with Oak now, jogging him along till Oak slides off PopCorn’s leg and dangles from it like a monkey.
“More than a hundred people showed up for our Green Your Home info session at the library,” says PapaDum.
PopCorn beams at him proudly.