My Life as a Stuntboy (21 page)

Read My Life as a Stuntboy Online

Authors: Janet Tashjian

 
 
The woman from the monkey institute is arriving after dinner, so I plan out how our conversation might go. It's kind of crazy, but doing parkour has helped other parts of my life besides just stunts. I might never see Tony again, but he taught me how important it is to plan and how obstacles can usually be overcome. Who knew you could learn life
lessons from a guy who runs down the street on fire?
When the woman arrives, she's not the same grandmother-type who helped Frank settle in with us a few months before. This woman's name is Wendie, and she's harried and grumpy. Thankfully, Frank can't spill the beans about our escapade at the warehouse; he just sits in his clean cage with his full water bottle and looks like the most cared for capuchin in the world.
“So,” Wendie begins, “can you tell me why poor Frank needed emergency surgery?”
Before Wendie came, my mother told me I was in charge of this meeting—that she wasn't going to help bail me out this time. When I look over at her now, her arms are crossed like she has no intention of answering Wendie's question. I explain about the toy horse and how Frank is lucky that my mom is a veterinarian so he had quick medical treatment.
harried
escapade
“That's true,” Wendie says. “But he would've been better off if he hadn't needed surgery at all, don't you think?”
I look over at Mom who still isn't talking.
“It definitely would've been better if he hadn't swallowed it,” I answer. “I know better now.”
Wendie unlocks the cage and takes out Frank. She checks Frank's diaper and gives a quick nod of approval when she sees it's clean. Then she talks to him in a baby voice that's even worse than how my
mother talks to animals. “And what do you think, Frankie? Do you want to stay with the Fallons or come back to Boston with me?” Her voice gets even more babyish. “Who's Wendie's good boy?”
I look over to Mom for support, but she looks like she's about to burst into laughter. I make a face that says
Don't blow this
for me! so she takes a deep breath and gets serious again.
Wendie turns to me. “Are there any other incidents I should be aware of before I make my decision?”
Mom arches her eyebrow so high, she looks like a cartoon bad guy. I know what she's waiting for, but I still hesitate.
“Well,” I begin, “a kid from school—not one of my friends, I want to make that dear—kind of kidnapped Frank this week.”
hesitate
“Excuse me?”
“But you'll be happy to know I got him back home in no time without a scratch.”
emphasizing
Wendie holds Frank even closer. “Tell me more.”
So I launch into the story of Swifty, emphasizing how quickly I sprang into action to save Frank. “My friends Matt, Carly, Jamie, and Ronnie all helped. Frank has a real support system here.” It's a phrase I've heard my mother say a million times, and I hope it impresses Wendie.
She shakes her head. “I'm just not sure this is the right environment for one of our capuchins.”
It's the sentence I've been
dreading for weeks, and my entire body slumps with disappointment. When I look up at my mother, her eyebrow is still arched. I know from experience that she's waiting for me to continue. I feel deflated, but Mom's stubborn expression urges me on.
deflated
“It's not my fault,” I say. “I can't be held responsible for some lunatic sneaking into our house.”
“Did you say lunatic?”
I realize comparing Swifty to a lunatic is not a good choice of words and begin again.
“Our house is so much better for Frank than being in a big room in Boston with lots of other monkeys,” I say.
“Actually there's a long list of people waiting to become foster families. He'd be placed with one of them. With a family who takes care of him so he can live to a ripe old age and change the life of a disabled person for the better.”
contributed
I try my best to be polite but can't let Wendie get away with that last comment.
“I hate to tell you,” I say, “but accidents happen all the time, to everyone. Sure, it was stupid for me to leave a toy out for Frank to grab, but that doesn't mean some other family's not going to make mistakes too. Suppose another family on your list cuts a carrot too big and Frank chokes? Suppose he has some kind of seizure and the closest vet is an hour away?”
I point over at my mom, who still hasn't contributed to the
conversation. “And as far as Swifty goes,” I continue, “he really regrets what he did—and not just because his parents punished him.” I begin to gather up steam. “Swifty has nothing to do with this discussion anyway.”
regrets
“He doesn't?” Wendie asks.
“No, it's about how Frank feels about being part of our family. He loves it here. Suppose he gets assigned to a family who doesn't watch old cowboy movies. Frank likes Westerns, did you know that?”
Wendie shakes her head.
“His favorite thing is sitting next to Bodi and me on the couch. He's always so relaxed, with this huge grin on his face.”
My words even convince me. Frank is the most important part of
this discussion. I take a giant risk and hold my arms out toward Frank. Without thinking twice, he leaves the comfort of Wendie's fleshy arms and jumps into mine. He leans his head against my chest and settles in.
theory

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