“So you guys are dating,” Larry asked, looking Jon up and down a few times too many. “So how long has this been going on?”
“I thought you liked Johnny Miller,” Jackie Kincaid said. “He’s such a nice boy.”
“This Jon is a really nice Jon, too,” Megan said, wearing a plastic smile that looked almost pasted on. “Can we go upstairs now?”
“Not yet, I just asked you a simple question, and neither of you answered it. So, you guys are dating?”
“Since yesterday,” Megan said. “It wasn’t official until then, anyway.”
“Um-hum. And how, exactly, did you make it official?”
“Sacrificed a goat and smeared its entrails all over our naked bodies. What other way is there?”
“I’ve told you about that smart mouth, young lady,” Larry said. “How many times have I told you about that? I can just send your boyfriend here home and make sure you’re grounded for the next two weeks, if you like.”
“We told each other we liked each other, and we wanted to go out together,” Jon said. “That’s all.”
“So you haven’t have sex yet?”
Jon couldn’t help it, and immediately turned bright red, but Megan didn’t miss a beat. “No, we haven’t had sex, Larry. Tell you what. You’re on the very top of my list of people to tell, once the deflowering is official, ‘kay? We’re just planning on sending out cards, but I’ll make sure to give you a call just as soon as we’re done. Thanks for asking, you pervert.”
Jon noticed Larry’s color rise. Jackie was studiously concentrating on the potted plant by the door. “You can address me as ‘Larry’ or ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. Carter’. We do not call names in this house.”
“Except you,” Megan replied. “Can we go?”
“No, not yet, I said,” Larry replied. “I want to find out some more about your new boyfriend. And his intentions.”
“I’d like to go out with Megan,” Jon said. “Get pizza and go to movies and stuff. Uh. Watch TV.”
“That sounds like fun,” Larry said. He paused, looking Jon up and down three times, which was unsettling. What the hell was he looking at?
“You have noticed that Megan is a very attractive young woman, haven’t you?”
Jon thought his face must be getting even redder. “Uh—um—”
He wasn’t sure exactly what to say, but Megan didn’t give him the chance. “Thanks, Lar, we know you have because you’re always staring at my boobs.”
“Since yesterday,” Megan said. “It wasn’t official until then, anyway.”
“Um-hum. And how, exactly, did you make it official?”
“Sacrificed a goat and smeared its entrails all over our naked bodies. What other way is there?”
“I’ve told you about that smart mouth, young lady,” Larry said. “How many times have I told you about that? I can just send your boyfriend here home and make sure you’re grounded for the next two weeks, if you like.”
“We told each other we liked each other, and we wanted to go out together,” Jon said. “That’s all.”
“So you haven’t have sex yet?”
Jon couldn’t help it, and immediately turned bright red, but Megan didn’t miss a beat. “No, we haven’t had sex, Larry. Tell you what. You’re on the very top of my list of people to tell, once the deflowering is official, ‘kay? We’re just planning on sending out cards, but I’ll make sure to give you a call just as soon as we’re done. Thanks for asking, you pervert.”
Jon noticed Larry’s color rise. Jackie was studiously concentrating on the potted plant by the door. “You can address me as ‘Larry’ or ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. Carter’. We do not call names in this house.”
“Except you,” Megan replied. “Can we go?”
“No, not yet, I said,” Larry replied. “I want to find out some more about your new boyfriend. And his intentions.”
“I’d like to go out with Megan,” Jon said. “Get pizza and go to movies and stuff. Uh. Watch TV.”
“That sounds like fun,” Larry said. He paused, looking Jon up and down three times, which was unsettling. What the hell was he looking at?
“You have noticed that Megan is a very attractive young woman, haven’t you?”
Jon thought his face must be getting even redder. “Uh—um—”
He wasn’t sure exactly what to say, but Megan didn’t give him the chance. “Thanks, Lar, we know you have because you’re always staring at my boobs.”
Larry’s face turned completely red this time, and he bristled. “All right, that’s it. You can go home, young man, and you—” He pointed a shaking finger in Megan’s face. “You’re grounded. For a week.”
“Damn,” Megan said. “And after I tried help out everybody yesterday by cleaning behind the furnace. There was a big mess behind the furnace, and I could have gone yelling to mom, asking her to clean it up, but instead I decided to do it myself—”
Larry blanched. Jon cocked an eyebrow. Apparently Larry didn’t like the idea of Megan cleaning behind the furnace.
“—trying to clean up messes that I sure didn’t make. Nobody would even have to know about them, but—”
“Larry,” Jackie said. “Come on. It’s the first week of summer. Let’s give the kids a break.”
Larry cleared his throat. “Ahem,” he said. “Well, since your mother is asking, I’ll forget about it, this time. But I don’t want any more lip from you.”
“Yes, sir, Captain Stubing.”
“Megan,” Jackie said. “Don’t antagonize him. He’s just looking out for your best interest. Larry loves you. He loves all of us.”
Megan smiled broadly. “And a very Brady Christmas to you, too, mommy dearest. We’re going to go upstairs now, okay?”
Larry glared at her. “Go upstairs. But he’s gone in half-an-hour. You understand?”
Megan stood upright, stuck out her chest, and raised two fingers to her forehead in salute. “Aye, aye, Captain!”
Jon was already retreating up the stairs, and Megan quickly followed, giggling. “Serves the dirty old bastard right,” she whispered as the got to the top of the stairs.
Jon looked at her quizzically. “What as the big deal? About the furnace, I mean.”
“I thought I told you. That’s where he keeps his box of nasty gross sex tapes. I don’t think he wants mom to know. Some of them—I don’t know, but I don’t think he’d want the local police to know. If you what I mean. But I’m not watching them to make sure.”
“Eww!” Jon said.
“’Eww’ is . . . right,” Megan said, trailing off. Then: “Hey!”
Jon saw what had caught her attention immediately. Carla was back in Megan’s bedroom, going through her drawers.
“Hey,” Megan demanded, advancing quickly on her room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Carla looked up, glaring. “Looking for my shit. My rings. My bracelets. My belt is missing. I know you took them—hey, those are my fucking earrings! Take ‘em off, you cunt!”
Megan sighed. “You are such a total bitch. Here, here,” she said, undoing the earrings and then putting them in Carla’s hands, and taking off her remaining bracelets. “And take these, too. If you’re missing anything else, that’s too damn bad, I don’t where it is, get the hell out of my room.”
“I want the rest of my shit back,” Carla hissed as she walked past them. “By tonight. I’ve got a date.”
“What a surprise,” Megan said. “Prison furlough program?”
“Fuck you!” Carla spat. “Fuck you and the pencil dick geek you rode in on.”
“Same to you,” Megan said, slamming the door behind her so hard it rattled the picture frames on the wall. She sighed, shaking her head. Then she looked up at Jon and gave him a broad, bright-eyed smile. “Well! Everybody’s in a pretty good mood today,” she said. “That ain’t nothing.”
Jon just shook his head in amazement. There were times he was so glad it was just him and Doreen. No Stacey, no Jackson Edmonds, no new step-father. Just him and Doreen. Doreen was not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but his life could have been so much worse. If he had been in Megan’s shoes, he thought he might have decided to go on the run just to get the hell out, book of magic or not.
“You’re a cunt!” Carla shouted through the closed door as Megan locked it and then there was a loud bang.
“Did she just kick the door?” Jon asked, shaking his head. “Is she two years old?”
“Yes she did and, mentally, yes. But she was old enough to remember going through the whole actual divorce and hostage situation with our real dad, and remember it. Although I almost think I might as well have gone through it, because she’s, like, vomited it all up on me about a million times. I think it’s screwed her up for life. I know she thinks it screwed her up for life. What do you think?”
Jon’s eyes widened. “Hostage situation?”
“Yeah, dad kidnapped Carla—picked her up at school without telling Mom and drove down to Memphis. He left her there with his girlfriend’s grandmother—dad is a jewel among men—and came back to snatch me from daycare. I don’t remember it but apparently the police caught him there. And that’s just part of it. He said he had Carla hostage and tried to grab one of the daycare people—Carla gets her psycho-tendencies from dad. Mom is a drughead, but she’s never been a freak like my actual dad. But I’m not making excuses for her or anything. She’s still a total bitch and she deserves every last crappy piece of shit that happens to her.”
Jon just blinked. It was a common problem he had with Megan: just what did you say to something like that? Well, nothing to do but try.
“Well, as long as you guys love each other,” he said.
“Hah! Now, that’s funny.” Megan bent down and pulled a box out from under her bed. “Huh,” she murmured. “I put a piece of tape on the corner and it’s still there. I would have thought for sure if Carla was snooping in my room, she’d want to know what I was keeping in the box. Come on—I locked the door, didn’t I?”
Jon checked. “Door is locked.”
“Good. If we’re out of here tomorrow, we need to get busy.”
Jon felt his heart skip a beat. Tomorrow? Were they actually leaving tomorrow? He hadn’t even written a good note to leave Doreen yet. Tomorrow suddenly seemed too soon. Way too soon. But then again, how long could they wait? Really?
“’Pack clothes, winter and summer’,” Megan read from a piece of notebook paper she had just pulled out of the box. “Check. For me. You packed, yet?”
“Uh, not quite. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Come on, goober, get with the plan. We need to have this stuff done and out of the way. I’m packing light, though, and you probably should, too. I figure we’ll go shopping while we’re on the road. Better to get new clothes.” She smiled brightly, and Jon couldn’t help but notice how perfect the bow of her lips was. How simple and wonderful the dimples of her cheeks were. “You know, so we’re harder to recognize. Besides, Larry and Mom suck, so I never get to go shopping.”
Jon nodded absently, but couldn’t stop looking at her lips.
"‘Map and route’, check. ‘Money’?” She looked at Jon.
“Uh, check. That’s all together. But I haven’t tried to use the ATM card thing yet, to make sure it works.”
“There’s an Annie machine up at the strip mall past the SuperBee—we can go test it there. Tonight, okay?”
Jon was nodding. “Tonight, okay.”
“’The thing, and the stuff’,” she read. “That’ll be your job.”
“I’m on it,” Jon assured her.
“Hope so. So the plan is, we meet outside me house about five in the morning, before everybody gets up. We’ll take—” She looked sidewise, as if she were worried somebody might be listening, even though the door was closed and her voice was barely above a whisper. “—the car,” she finished. “Using your magic key or whatever, so I don’t have to—you know, risk snatching anything. Have you tried it out to see if it works yet?”
“The key?” he asked. Megan nodded. “Uh, no, but—”
“No buts, I don’t care if everything else has worked, you ought to test it or we’re going to look pretty damn stupid with our goodbye notes written and tromping down the street with our suitcases and we can’t get a car.” She leaned forward, and rapped him on the head with her knuckles. “We’re going to be, like, running away from the government. And our parents. I’m figuring we’re going to go out in a blaze of glory—speaking of which, we need guns. You need to make some of those laser guns.”
Jon nodded. He wasn’t sure how much the idea of shooting at, or hurting in some other way, anything at all appealed to him. But better to be protected, and somebody somewhere was always saying the best defense was a good offense. Maybe it was that guy who taught science, and coached the wrestling team, at Jefferson Middle School. Coach Packard? Anyway, she was right, though, to his credit, he had been trying to build some of just that sort of stuff out of the book, before she had come pounding on his window and had nearly made him shit in his pants last night.
“I’m working on it,” he said.
She grinned, and then thumped his nose hard with her finger. “You’re working on everything. We need to actually get something done. Well, actually, I’m done with my stuff. You need to get something done.”
“Okay, okay,” Jon said. “You’re right—it’s just happening faster than I thought. I thought I’d have more time. I’ll write my note and test the automatic teller card and the magic key tonight, okay? We’ll have to start building stuff out of the book while we’re on the road. I’m not going to be able to get anything made tonight—it takes too long, and I’m missing most of the stuff I need. I need to get to the hardware store. And Radio Shack.”
Megan nodded. “Better to do that after we’re out of here. ‘First Aid’. I’ve got a bag together with band-aids and Tylenol and Pepto. And I borrowed a box of condoms from Jackie’s stash.” As she said it, she looked down studiously at the paper, avoiding Jon’s abruptly saucer-round eyes. “So, you know, that should last us for a while.”
“Damn,” Megan said. “And after I tried help out everybody yesterday by cleaning behind the furnace. There was a big mess behind the furnace, and I could have gone yelling to mom, asking her to clean it up, but instead I decided to do it myself—”
Larry blanched. Jon cocked an eyebrow. Apparently Larry didn’t like the idea of Megan cleaning behind the furnace.
“—trying to clean up messes that I sure didn’t make. Nobody would even have to know about them, but—”
“Larry,” Jackie said. “Come on. It’s the first week of summer. Let’s give the kids a break.”
Larry cleared his throat. “Ahem,” he said. “Well, since your mother is asking, I’ll forget about it, this time. But I don’t want any more lip from you.”
“Yes, sir, Captain Stubing.”
“Megan,” Jackie said. “Don’t antagonize him. He’s just looking out for your best interest. Larry loves you. He loves all of us.”
Megan smiled broadly. “And a very Brady Christmas to you, too, mommy dearest. We’re going to go upstairs now, okay?”
Larry glared at her. “Go upstairs. But he’s gone in half-an-hour. You understand?”
Megan stood upright, stuck out her chest, and raised two fingers to her forehead in salute. “Aye, aye, Captain!”
Jon was already retreating up the stairs, and Megan quickly followed, giggling. “Serves the dirty old bastard right,” she whispered as the got to the top of the stairs.
Jon looked at her quizzically. “What as the big deal? About the furnace, I mean.”
“I thought I told you. That’s where he keeps his box of nasty gross sex tapes. I don’t think he wants mom to know. Some of them—I don’t know, but I don’t think he’d want the local police to know. If you what I mean. But I’m not watching them to make sure.”
“Eww!” Jon said.
“’Eww’ is . . . right,” Megan said, trailing off. Then: “Hey!”
Jon saw what had caught her attention immediately. Carla was back in Megan’s bedroom, going through her drawers.
“Hey,” Megan demanded, advancing quickly on her room. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Carla looked up, glaring. “Looking for my shit. My rings. My bracelets. My belt is missing. I know you took them—hey, those are my fucking earrings! Take ‘em off, you cunt!”
Megan sighed. “You are such a total bitch. Here, here,” she said, undoing the earrings and then putting them in Carla’s hands, and taking off her remaining bracelets. “And take these, too. If you’re missing anything else, that’s too damn bad, I don’t where it is, get the hell out of my room.”
“I want the rest of my shit back,” Carla hissed as she walked past them. “By tonight. I’ve got a date.”
“What a surprise,” Megan said. “Prison furlough program?”
“Fuck you!” Carla spat. “Fuck you and the pencil dick geek you rode in on.”
“Same to you,” Megan said, slamming the door behind her so hard it rattled the picture frames on the wall. She sighed, shaking her head. Then she looked up at Jon and gave him a broad, bright-eyed smile. “Well! Everybody’s in a pretty good mood today,” she said. “That ain’t nothing.”
Jon just shook his head in amazement. There were times he was so glad it was just him and Doreen. No Stacey, no Jackson Edmonds, no new step-father. Just him and Doreen. Doreen was not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but his life could have been so much worse. If he had been in Megan’s shoes, he thought he might have decided to go on the run just to get the hell out, book of magic or not.
“You’re a cunt!” Carla shouted through the closed door as Megan locked it and then there was a loud bang.
“Did she just kick the door?” Jon asked, shaking his head. “Is she two years old?”
“Yes she did and, mentally, yes. But she was old enough to remember going through the whole actual divorce and hostage situation with our real dad, and remember it. Although I almost think I might as well have gone through it, because she’s, like, vomited it all up on me about a million times. I think it’s screwed her up for life. I know she thinks it screwed her up for life. What do you think?”
Jon’s eyes widened. “Hostage situation?”
“Yeah, dad kidnapped Carla—picked her up at school without telling Mom and drove down to Memphis. He left her there with his girlfriend’s grandmother—dad is a jewel among men—and came back to snatch me from daycare. I don’t remember it but apparently the police caught him there. And that’s just part of it. He said he had Carla hostage and tried to grab one of the daycare people—Carla gets her psycho-tendencies from dad. Mom is a drughead, but she’s never been a freak like my actual dad. But I’m not making excuses for her or anything. She’s still a total bitch and she deserves every last crappy piece of shit that happens to her.”
Jon just blinked. It was a common problem he had with Megan: just what did you say to something like that? Well, nothing to do but try.
“Well, as long as you guys love each other,” he said.
“Hah! Now, that’s funny.” Megan bent down and pulled a box out from under her bed. “Huh,” she murmured. “I put a piece of tape on the corner and it’s still there. I would have thought for sure if Carla was snooping in my room, she’d want to know what I was keeping in the box. Come on—I locked the door, didn’t I?”
Jon checked. “Door is locked.”
“Good. If we’re out of here tomorrow, we need to get busy.”
Jon felt his heart skip a beat. Tomorrow? Were they actually leaving tomorrow? He hadn’t even written a good note to leave Doreen yet. Tomorrow suddenly seemed too soon. Way too soon. But then again, how long could they wait? Really?
“’Pack clothes, winter and summer’,” Megan read from a piece of notebook paper she had just pulled out of the box. “Check. For me. You packed, yet?”
“Uh, not quite. I’ll do it tonight.”
“Come on, goober, get with the plan. We need to have this stuff done and out of the way. I’m packing light, though, and you probably should, too. I figure we’ll go shopping while we’re on the road. Better to get new clothes.” She smiled brightly, and Jon couldn’t help but notice how perfect the bow of her lips was. How simple and wonderful the dimples of her cheeks were. “You know, so we’re harder to recognize. Besides, Larry and Mom suck, so I never get to go shopping.”
Jon nodded absently, but couldn’t stop looking at her lips.
"‘Map and route’, check. ‘Money’?” She looked at Jon.
“Uh, check. That’s all together. But I haven’t tried to use the ATM card thing yet, to make sure it works.”
“There’s an Annie machine up at the strip mall past the SuperBee—we can go test it there. Tonight, okay?”
Jon was nodding. “Tonight, okay.”
“’The thing, and the stuff’,” she read. “That’ll be your job.”
“I’m on it,” Jon assured her.
“Hope so. So the plan is, we meet outside me house about five in the morning, before everybody gets up. We’ll take—” She looked sidewise, as if she were worried somebody might be listening, even though the door was closed and her voice was barely above a whisper. “—the car,” she finished. “Using your magic key or whatever, so I don’t have to—you know, risk snatching anything. Have you tried it out to see if it works yet?”
“The key?” he asked. Megan nodded. “Uh, no, but—”
“No buts, I don’t care if everything else has worked, you ought to test it or we’re going to look pretty damn stupid with our goodbye notes written and tromping down the street with our suitcases and we can’t get a car.” She leaned forward, and rapped him on the head with her knuckles. “We’re going to be, like, running away from the government. And our parents. I’m figuring we’re going to go out in a blaze of glory—speaking of which, we need guns. You need to make some of those laser guns.”
Jon nodded. He wasn’t sure how much the idea of shooting at, or hurting in some other way, anything at all appealed to him. But better to be protected, and somebody somewhere was always saying the best defense was a good offense. Maybe it was that guy who taught science, and coached the wrestling team, at Jefferson Middle School. Coach Packard? Anyway, she was right, though, to his credit, he had been trying to build some of just that sort of stuff out of the book, before she had come pounding on his window and had nearly made him shit in his pants last night.
“I’m working on it,” he said.
She grinned, and then thumped his nose hard with her finger. “You’re working on everything. We need to actually get something done. Well, actually, I’m done with my stuff. You need to get something done.”
“Okay, okay,” Jon said. “You’re right—it’s just happening faster than I thought. I thought I’d have more time. I’ll write my note and test the automatic teller card and the magic key tonight, okay? We’ll have to start building stuff out of the book while we’re on the road. I’m not going to be able to get anything made tonight—it takes too long, and I’m missing most of the stuff I need. I need to get to the hardware store. And Radio Shack.”
Megan nodded. “Better to do that after we’re out of here. ‘First Aid’. I’ve got a bag together with band-aids and Tylenol and Pepto. And I borrowed a box of condoms from Jackie’s stash.” As she said it, she looked down studiously at the paper, avoiding Jon’s abruptly saucer-round eyes. “So, you know, that should last us for a while.”
They were both silent for a while. Megan nodded slowly at nothing, bobbing her head, lips pursed, looking at the list, looking at the map. “So we’re really going to do this thing.”
Jon still hadn’t recovered from Megan’s breezy but pointed mention of the box of condoms she was packing. “Um, yeah,” he said.
“Do you still want to do it? Now that it’s time? After this, there’s no going back—”
“I want to do it,” Jon said, and he did. The certainty hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger. He knew what it would mean. He knew the chances they were taking. And he wanted to dive into it.
Megan looked up at him. Her cinnamon-colored eyes were almost luminous. Her lips, so perfect, parted slightly, were glossed and so wonderful, so inviting, he knew what he was going to do. He could feel himself moving forward, and he couldn’t stop. He looked at her mouth, then her eyes, then her mouth again and he was leaning forward. And her lips parted further. She was leaning in towards him. And he knew: she felt it, too. She wanted what was about to happen as badly as he did. It wasn’t just about getting out of her house, it wasn’t just about having an adventure. It was about them. And they were about to kiss.
Jon still hadn’t recovered from Megan’s breezy but pointed mention of the box of condoms she was packing. “Um, yeah,” he said.
“Do you still want to do it? Now that it’s time? After this, there’s no going back—”
“I want to do it,” Jon said, and he did. The certainty hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger. He knew what it would mean. He knew the chances they were taking. And he wanted to dive into it.
Megan looked up at him. Her cinnamon-colored eyes were almost luminous. Her lips, so perfect, parted slightly, were glossed and so wonderful, so inviting, he knew what he was going to do. He could feel himself moving forward, and he couldn’t stop. He looked at her mouth, then her eyes, then her mouth again and he was leaning forward. And her lips parted further. She was leaning in towards him. And he knew: she felt it, too. She wanted what was about to happen as badly as he did. It wasn’t just about getting out of her house, it wasn’t just about having an adventure. It was about them. And they were about to kiss.
This time, he really wasn’t that worried about doing it right. He didn’t feel awkward. There was no windshield wiper tongue action. He just kissed her, and she kissed him, and it was the most natural thing in the world. The most perfect. The very sweetest. It was bliss.
Though he still needed to pack, and write a note for his mom, and actually finish putting together one of the magical mystery technology recipes in the book, Jon spent the next half-an-hour making out with the most perfect girl in the known universe.
Somewhere deep inside his mind, his hands caressing Megan’s shoulders while her mouth, so warm and wet and wonderful, hungrily devoured his, Jon sighed. A mental sigh of pure bliss. Life was crazy-good.
Crazy, yes. It was all crazy. What they were planning to do. What Dr. Bernhard had done. What he and Megan were doing right at that moment. Crazy, all of it.
But deeply good, too. Deeply wonderful.
Every now and then over the next thirty minutes, their lips smashe together while his hand rested on her hip or encircled her shoulders, his eyes opened and wandered over to the map on her desk, a routed up the United States and into Canada conspicuously traced in red.
He could hardly wait. It was going to be crazy-good.
Crazy-good.
Though he still needed to pack, and write a note for his mom, and actually finish putting together one of the magical mystery technology recipes in the book, Jon spent the next half-an-hour making out with the most perfect girl in the known universe.
Somewhere deep inside his mind, his hands caressing Megan’s shoulders while her mouth, so warm and wet and wonderful, hungrily devoured his, Jon sighed. A mental sigh of pure bliss. Life was crazy-good.
Crazy, yes. It was all crazy. What they were planning to do. What Dr. Bernhard had done. What he and Megan were doing right at that moment. Crazy, all of it.
But deeply good, too. Deeply wonderful.
Every now and then over the next thirty minutes, their lips smashe together while his hand rested on her hip or encircled her shoulders, his eyes opened and wandered over to the map on her desk, a routed up the United States and into Canada conspicuously traced in red.
He could hardly wait. It was going to be crazy-good.
Crazy-good.
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