Zoe in Wonderland (6 page)

Waiting

I
really hate waiting. I hate waiting every day for at least a gazillion minutes for Jade to get out of the bathroom. I hate waiting in any kind of line, especially in the cafeteria, especially when I finally get to the food and the very thing I got in line for in the first place—the mac and cheese—is gone.

Now I had something else to wait for—baobab seeds. It'd been three days.

The school-is-finally-over-for-the-day bell rang.

“Do you think they came today?” I asked as I tagged along beside Quincy after school.

“Dunno,” he replied. “Let's go see.”

“I've been thinking we should grow them at your
house. That way, I can really surprise my daddy. Do you think your mom would let you . . . in the garage?”

“I spoze. Not like she parks her car there or anything. But I thought you said they'd need a special light or something.”

“I'm going to sneak one out of the greenhouse. He has some that he hardly ever uses. I have everything we need, including potting soil,” I informed him.

“Plus it'd be easier to make the movie,” he agreed.

“And the only way to keep the snox out of our business.”

Another day passed, and another. It was just about dinnertime on Friday evening when our doorbell rang. “Zoe? Quincy's here!” Mom called out.

As usual, he had shown up unannounced. He was standing in the doorway, holding a small package, grinning.

I joined him on the porch, closing the door behind me, and we huddled together.

“Got 'em,” he whispered.

We looked at the seeds, which sort of looked like black beans, and made a pact to meet at his house tomorrow to plant them and start the movie. Quincy was making a joke about Jack and the Beanstalk when
the door creaked open and the snox peeked out. He was wearing a plaid fedora.

“What're you guys doing?” Harper asked, and put one foot outside.

In a flash, Quincy stashed the seeds in his jacket pocket.

“We're doing nunya business, nosy,” I answered.

Harper squinted at us, but Quincy stared him down with his best I-am-a-bigger-boy-man-than-you look, which made the snox slink back into the house and shut the door.

Quincy laughed. “See you tomorrow, Zoe,” he said, and turned to walk away.

“Tomorrow,” I echoed, and crept inside.

A Super-Sad Saturday

A
fter I finished up in the greenhouse the next day, I gathered the light, potting soil, and some old coffee cans (which Nana used to collect and are kind of cool to grow things in), put everything in a wheelbarrow, and rolled it to Quincy's house.

To my surprise, his dad opened the door. Even though his body is slim, his cheeks are fat and he always reminds me of a teddy bear. I hadn't seen him since Quincy's birthday party in the summer. He gave me an arm hug and squealed my name just like always: “Zo-eeee, long time no see.” He smiled, but his eyes looked sad, and I supposed he didn't like being divorced.

“Hi, Wes,” I said.

Noticing the wheelbarrow, he asked, “What you got there?”

“We're going to plant some seeds and make a movie out of it,” I informed him as I came inside.

“An Academy Award winner, I bet.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don't think so. We're just kids.”

“Yeah, just kids,” he repeated, then settled on the sofa in front of the television the way he used to when he lived there. But instead of turning on the TV, Wes rested his head in his hands and stared at the floor. I looked around for Kendra but didn't see her. Two big suitcases sat on the floor near the front door.

I figured Quincy would be happy—the way he usually is when his dad's around—but when he came into the room, he had a strange look, as if someone had stolen every bit of his happiness, even the crumbs. His eyes were red like he'd been crying. He butted the front screen door open with his hand in a mad way and headed outside.

I followed. “Whatsamatter?”

He shrugged.

“Why's your dad here?” I asked.

“Because,” he replied.

“Is he staying?”

“Definitely not. He finally got a new job a couple of months ago, a real good one in San Francisco.”

I didn't know what was wrong, but I figured he'd tell me sooner or later. I pointed toward the wheelbarrow. “I brought all the stuff to plant the baobab seeds.”

Quincy got a worse-than-not-happy look. “You're going to have to plant them at your house,” he told me.

“We can't because my dad will find them and it's supposed to be a secret,” I reminded him.

“But I'm leaving,” Quincy said sadly.

“Leaving where?”

“Here . . . to go live with my dad . . . for now, anyway.”

“What!” I screeched. “All the way in San Francisco? . . . No way . . . You can't leave me!” I tugged on his shirt.

“I have to. My mom is sick.”

“But I just saw her and she didn't look sick to me.”

“She is. She has cancer. She had surgery early this morning.”

I had to sit down. “How come you didn't tell me?” I asked.

“My dad just told me a little while ago. She has to have some treatments to kill the rest of the cancer. She'll be at a special hospital for at least six weeks. So
they decided that I should go live with my dad until she's all better.”

“How long will it take for her to get better?”

“Who knows?”

Quincy pulled the packet of baobab seeds from his pocket and dropped it in my hand. “I have to go to the hospital now,” he said. I'd never seen him cry. I can't even remember ever seeing his eyes water, but right then his eyes filled up with tears.

Some tears, like some diseases, are very contagious. A bunch of them got in my eyes too. “Sorry about your mom,” I told him.

“Yeah, me too. Now I know why she was doing all that fancy cooking and being extra-special nice.”

For a while, there was a lot of not-talking and looking at each other, and then I glanced away and then we stared at each other again, both of us fighting more tears. I rubbed his arm gently and he took my hand and—for the first time ever—held it, but only for a few seconds.

Quincy's dad lugged the suitcases outside, locked the front door, and gave me another shoulder hug. “You two can lose the worried looks. Kendra's got too much fight in her to lose any battle. Heck, Kendra could win a war against aliens from outer space.”

Finally, Quincy smiled.

Mr. Hill loaded the suitcases, slammed the trunk closed, got in, and started the car. “Time to go, buddy. Later now, Zoe.”

Quincy climbed in the car and stared at the seed pack in my hand. “Swear you'll plant them and e-mail me pictures.”

“I swear,” I told him.

“Okay. Bye, Zoe.”

“Bye.” I waved.

Quincy twisted around in his seat, and I could see him through the car's rear window waving back. I stood there as motionless as a mannequin, watching until their car vanished from sight and then watching some more—part of me thinking maybe I was dreaming, but the majority of me knowing I wasn't.

Slowly, I rolled the wheelbarrow toward home, trying my best to keep the tears from trickling, but they won by finding another way out through my nose. I wiped at it with my sleeve.

The Worst Zoe Mood Ever

M
rs. Warner was outside in her yard, fiddling around with her statues. I didn't want to talk to anyone and hoped she would ignore me. But, of course, she didn't. “Having a nice day, little Miss Jade?”

I pretended not to hear her. My sadness made it impossible to be polite, even to a forgetful old lady.

“You hear me, Miss Jade?”

Zoe G. Reindeer was in a stinking mood, possibly her worst mood ever. This was a day of extremely sad news. No one should bother anyone on a day of extremely sad news.

“Little Miss Jade?” she repeated.

Instantly, my sad stuff transformed itself into mad
stuff. “I'm not little Miss Jade! I'm Zoe! Stop calling me Jade!” I snapped.

Mrs. Warner stared at me like she was seeing me for the first time ever and responded, “That's right . . . You're the one with those big feet you're always tripping over.” She placed her hand over her mouth, trying to hold in the giggle, but it still came out.

Trying desperately not to yell at her again, I clenched my jaw.

But she kept on talking. “If you're fortunate, you might grow into those big feet. Tall, I mean.”

I didn't want it to, but my bad temper won. “BQ!” I hollered.

“BQ?” she asked. “Who's BQ?”

I huffed at her. Then, to keep something I'd really be sorry for from coming out of my mouth, I pursed my lips and continued guiding the wheelbarrow toward the Wonderland.

The only thing I really wanted to do was go to my room, shut the door, and be very alone. But because I knew that if I didn't plant them now, I probably never would, I headed to the greenhouse to plant the baobab seeds. I had to keep my promise to my best and only friend. And if Daddy asks what I'm growing, I decided, I'll just tell him it's a surprise.

There were some directions, but I ignored them. I
really wasn't in the mood. After all, a seed is a seed. You give it dirt and water and it grows. I planted all four seeds, one in each of Nana's old coffee cans. One label said Royal Kona Hawaiian Coffee, one said Hills Bros., another had a Chock full o'Nuts label, and the last one was in a Folgers can. I watered them and tucked them in a corner of the greenhouse.

Leaning against one of the shelves, I started thinking. Why do adults think that it's okay to keep humongous secrets from kids—secrets bigger than an eight-ton Tyrannosaurus rex? If my mom or daddy were very sick, I sure wouldn't want to be the last to know.

Slowly, I sank to the dirt floor and pulled my knees to my chest. I was feeling extremely miserable about Kendra, hoping she wouldn't die, and now I was nervous about whether my mom and daddy were keeping sad secrets too. And what if Quincy never came back?

Despite the quiet of the greenhouse, the question sounded loud inside my head. “Maybe I'll never see him again,” I whimpered.

Suddenly, from out of nowhere, Harper spoke. “See who?” he asked. “And who are you talking to?” he added.

Please! Please! Please! Not now! Plus, the greenhouse is my special place.

I glared at my brother. He was wearing a straw cowboy hat and, as usual, a smirk.

How did he sneak in here without me hearing him?

Like a volcano, I exploded. “Get out! Leave me alone! You're driving me crazy!” I shot up from the floor and lunged at him.

I must have really looked crazy-mad, because Harper's eyes were filled with fright and he took off running. He pushed the greenhouse door open and bolted. I chased him, but I'm nowhere near as fast as Harper.

And then—I tripped and fell, landing hard on the flagstone. Instantly, my knees burned and I knew they were scraped up bad. My jeans were torn and blood oozed.

I panted until, like water down a drain, my madness disappeared.

At first, Daddy grinned as I made my into the Wonderland's store. Fortunately, he was alone. “Howdeedoo, Zoe,” he said. Then, noticing my bloody knees, he asked, “What happened?”

I zoomed to him, hugged his waist, sank my face in his shirt, and sobbed.