Elvis and the Underdogs (22 page)

“So, are you sure you're okay now, Benji? I mean, do you need to go to the hospital?” asked Billy.

I looked up at him. I found it really odd to hear Billy talk to me in a seminice way. I shook my head. “No, I'm okay. Those pens work really fast, and I'm fine. I've had this happen to me a few times, so I kinda know the drill.”

“Why were you guys even here?” he asked.

“Ask Taisy,” I said.

“Ask Alexander,” she said.

Since Alexander didn't have anyone else to pass the buck to, he tried to explain to Billy why we'd come here, but first he started with the fact that he has total recall.

Billy scowled. “I don't care about any of that. Why were you sneaking around like that? Why didn't you just knock on the garage door?”

“Because we're all scared of you,” I said.

“So why are you even here then?”

“Do you have my lug nut? Alexander said he saw you with it in the hallway after my episode. It's really important to me. My dad gave it to me. It's kind of my good luck charm. And as you can see, I'm a kid who needs all the good luck I can get.”

“You think I took your lug nut? Why would I want it?”

“Why isn't anyone listening to me?” said Alexander. “I never said I saw Billy with it! I said I saw it and that I assumed it was Billy's.”

“That's basically the same thing, Alexander, and when are you ever wrong?” asked Taisy.

“It's not at all the same thing. When you assume something, that means that you could totally be wrong. Actually, my mom says a funny thing about the word ‘assume,' and I would share it, but I can't because it involves a word that I'm not allowed to use. And by the way, I'm wrong a lot. Don't you recall what just—”

Before Alexander had a chance to continue, Taisy leaped up from the couch. She pointed at an old cuckoo clock on the wall in the corner.

“Is that the right time?!”

Billy nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Oh no, oh no, no, no, no, no! This is bad. We have to go. Right now. We're going to be late, and if I'm not back at school when my dad shows up, he's going to get really mad, and you do not want to see my dad get mad. I already had to beg my uncle not to rat me out. I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be running laps on the track. Why is everyone just sitting there looking at me? I said we have to go now. Billy, give Benji back his lug nut thingie right now.”

“I don't have it.”

Alexander stood up from the couch. “Okay, well, that's that. Sorry to have bothered you.”

I stood up too. “Why should I believe you when you lie all the time at school?”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Billy took a step toward me. I tried to back up, but instead I just sat back down on the couch.

I looked up at him and calmly said, “Yes, but I'm not only calling you a liar, I'm calling you a thief too. Now give it back.”

“I don't care about any of this. We need to go. I can't be late. You don't understand what will happen to me if my dad finds out I left the school. It won't be good. It'll be bad.” Taisy grabbed Alexander and dragged him toward the door. “Now, now, now! We're never going to make it back in time. I'm so dead. This is a nightmare!”

“Stop screaming, Taisy. If you need a ride, I can get you back to school in less than five minutes,” said Billy.

Taisy stopped in the doorway and turned around. I noticed that her bottom lip was quivering. “Don't joke around, Billy. This is really serious.”

“I have a go-kart. It'll fit everyone. Well, except for Benji's fat dog.”

“Hey! He's just big boned.”

Alexander was shaking his head. “I don't think that's a good idea. I don't think my mom would want me to ride in a go-kart.”

“Did your mom ever say you couldn't ride in a go-kart?” Taisy asked, pushing Alexander out the door.

“No.”

“Then technically you're not doing anything wrong. I've got to get back to school on time. And if Billy can get me there, then we're doing it. Billy, you can take me and Alexander first. Benji will stay here and rest, and then you can come back and take him home.”

Billy looked at me. “Is she always this bossy?”

I nodded. But as much as I wasn't thrilled at the idea of hanging around Billy's secret garage, I wasn't sure if the go-kart was a good idea either.

“Do you have a helmet?” I asked Billy.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Who wants to know?”

“Who wants to know? I want to know! That's why I'm asking you. Billy, drop the tough act. We don't have time for it. So just be nice. Do you have a helmet or not?”

“I guess I might have a few lying around.”

We all went outside, and Billy walked around to the back of the garage, where he pulled a tarp off a pretty decent-looking two-seater go-kart. I couldn't help it, I was impressed by the secret life of Billy Thompson. Guitar playing, weight lifting, able to remove his foot, and now a builder of go-karts. I guess I had pictured him throwing rocks at stray dogs when he wasn't at school.

“Did you build it yourself?”

“Yeah, with a little help from my mom's boyfriend. I used a riding lawn mower engine. Let's just say my mother's not too happy with me right now, because as you can see, our grass hasn't been mowed in a while.”

Wow. Billy was almost like a normal kid, talking about his mom being mad at him. I never really thought about Billy having a mom at all. He climbed in behind the steering wheel. Taisy and Alexander squeezed in next to him and put on their helmets.

Billy put his foot on the gas, and they roared out of his yard. It was a bumpy ride. I wasn't sure I'd risk my own life riding with Billy Thompson, so I wasn't too happy at the thought of my friends riding with him. Now that I had friends, I kind of wanted to keep them. Alive.

I couldn't believe it
. I was alone at Billy Thompson's house. Though I guess being out in his dumpy garage was hardly the same as being inside his real house. I wondered if Elvis and I should walk home. But I also still felt a little woozy. This had truly been one of the most bizarre days ever. I sat back down on the couch and closed my eyes.

After a few seconds, the image of Billy taking off his foot popped back into my head. Was that really what we'd seen? With all the excitement of my near-death experience, we hadn't had time to talk about anything. I stood up and looked around. I know it's not polite to snoop around other people's private stuff, but then again, Billy wasn't exactly polite all those times he terrorized me at school either.

“Where are you going?”

I looked at Elvis, who was all stretched out on the floor.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Nope. Just resting.”

“Okay, well I'm going to look around a bit.”

I found a dusty old lamp in the corner and pulled the rusty chain. The lightbulb blinked on, and I could now see the garage was pretty big. And it was was a total mess. Bed frames, plywood, steel shelves filled with magazines and what looked like old auto parts. The only thing that looked kind of new was a steel cabinet on the far right wall. There was a padlock on it, but it was open and just hanging there, and the cabinet door wasn't even shut all the way. Honestly, at this point, on this particular day, I wouldn't have been surprised by anything I found in there. Jars of eyeballs, snow globes, an Easy-Bake Oven? Maybe even my lug nut, but I doubted it. That would be too easy.

I pushed the door open with my foot, and well, I was wrong. I could still be surprised. Inside the cabinet were lots of different-size legs and shoes all lined up on two shelves. They were arranged by size, and inside each different shoe was a foot, and part of a leg. Some of the legs looked like actual fake legs with fake flesh-colored skin, but most of them were metal legs, like something you would see on a futuristic robot. I reached in and picked up the one with the black and green high-top sneaker on it with the metal leg.

“When I was four years old, I was in a terrible car accident with my parents.”

I froze. So much for Elvis being a watchdog. Billy was back. I slowly put the foot in the cabinet and closed the door. Then I turned to face Billy Thompson.

“My dad was in a band. Well, he was really a UPS delivery guy, but he sang in a band on the side. They usually didn't bring me along when he had a gig, but one night the babysitter had the flu, so they had no choice but to take me.”

Billy paused and looked at the sheet music on the stand. For a moment, I thought he was going to cry. Out of all the crazy things that had happened that day, this was by far the craziest. Billy Thompson was a real kid, with real feelings, and he seemed to love his dad as much as I loved mine. I was stunned. My mouth was probably hanging wide open. Billy just kept talking.

“It was snowing when we left. And when we were driving home, we hit a patch of ice. Our car started spinning like crazy right into the oncoming traffic lane. I woke up in the hospital two days later after two surgeries that I didn't even know about. And that's how I lost my left foot and part of my leg. So now I wear different prosthetics, and that's where I keep my different shoes and legs.”

“You can't even tell, though,” I said.

“No duh, that's the whole point. Why would I want anyone knowing? It's no one's business but my own. I don't let it stop me from doing anything. And I don't want anyone to know about it, so you better not blab it to anyone at school. Or else.”

“You know, you could try asking nicely instead of threatening me all the time. And for your information, I'm not going to say anything to anyone.”

“Okay, don't tell anyone. Please. If you know what's good for you.”

I smiled. “Well, that's a little better. That was half asking and half threat, but I'll take it. I won't say anything. I swear. Is that your dad's guitar that you were playing, the one from that night?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“I didn't know for sure—it was just a hunch.”

“My mom says it took the firemen an hour with the Jaws of Life to get me out of the car, it was so crunched up in the crash. The whole thing was totaled, but my dad's guitar made it out without a scratch on it. My mom makes me play my music out here, because she thinks I play too loudly. But I think it makes her sad, because it reminds her of my dad.”

“Yeah, my mom makes me keep my music down too.” Actually, I don't really play music all that much, and when I do, I listen to it with earphones on from my iPod.

“Sometimes I feel like I know more about my dad, and he's not even around, than I know about my mom. She works a lot, and she's pretty quiet. My dad was the loud one.”

“It's the opposite with my parents. My mom's definitely the loud one. So loud everyone seems quiet next to her.”

Billy nodded. “Yeah, I've seen her around a lot at school. She is loud.”

I made a face, because there's kind of a rule that I can talk bad about my mom, but no one else can. “She's around a lot because she's a little overprotective when it comes to me. I was sick a lot as a baby,” I said.

This time Billy didn't respond, and I honestly didn't know what to say anymore myself. This was by far the longest conversation I'd ever had with Billy Thompson. After a while, I finally blurted out, “I should get going. But I can walk if it's a pain for you to drive me.”

“I'll take you. Of course, I'm going to have to hitch up a wagon to the back of the go-kart for your giant dog. Give me a second.”

Billy jerry-rigged an old rusty red wagon to the back of the go-kart with some twine and duct tape. Elvis and I sat inside the garage, watching through the window. I had pulled up the shade to let some more light in. All the dust that came off it made both me and Elvis sneeze.

“If you think I'm riding in that red thing, you are sadly mistaken,” Elvis said.

“Fine, you can ride up front with him, and I'll ride in the wagon.”

“Forget it—I don't have the energy to save your life again when that thing breaks off on the first hill we climb and you go rolling into traffic. I'm fast, but I'm not that fast.”

“Speaking of, I haven't had the chance to say thank you for saving my life earlier. Thanks for getting the backpack.”

“You shouldn't be thanking me—you should be punishing me. I can't believe I didn't notice you left it behind. I'm a disgrace to the service dog profession. So it is I who owe you the apology for that particular incident. Maybe I was still mad at you for all the harsh things you said to me at lunch. No one has ever called me a liar before. Do you think we should talk about it some more so we can understand what exactly we both were feeling?”

“Or how about just call it even Steven and be done with it? I don't know about you, but I don't have the energy to fight with you or to talk about my feelings. I just want to get home and lie in the air-conditioning and eat a snack.”