Chapter Fifteen. I like the monkeys best, Addison said.

"I like the monkeys best," Addison said.

"Me too. They remind me of people I've known," Chase said.

Addison giggled.

It was Saturday and they were at the zoo with Hilda's parenting class. Addison laughed at the monkeys' antics as they climbed along the ropes in their cage. There was something magical about a child's laugh, Chase thought. She didn't remember laughing a lot as a child. She made other people laugh with her terse wit. She was a quipster. She would do her best to make Bud laugh a lot. "See that one over there—that's Mrs. Wayne, my first grade teacher." She pointed to the monkey sitting in the corner with her arms crossed on her chest.

"She looks crabby."

"She was. If you were bad she made you sit in the corner with your back turned so everyone could make fun of you, but you couldn't see them."

"Like what kind of bad things?"

"Spit balls mostly," Chase said.

"What are those?" Addison licked her rapidly melting chocolate ice cream cone.

Chase did the same. That was the conundrum with ice cream. It was a summer dessert, but it didn't fare well in the sun. No one ate ice cream in the winter. Chase didn't know if it was a cultural thing or that it lowered your body temperature when the world was brilliant white and freezing and was thus unhealthy.

"Spit balls are tiny wadded up pieces of notebook paper that you spit on so they're tight and firm. Then you feed them into one of those Bic pens, the clear ones after you take out the ink cartridge. You load your arsenal and fire away."

"Sweet," Addison said, delight registering in her eyes.

"Yeah, we used to nail the teacher's butt."

"I'd get expelled for school violence if I did that. Under the zero-tolerance policy spit balls would be seen as an aggressive act." She bit into the cone and sent ice cream flying. A lady with a toddler in a stroller ran it over.

"Really?" Chase was mortified.

"Yes. Last winter my friend got suspended for a week for throwing a snowball at recess."

"That's a little over the top." Chase put that on her reminder list. Bud might be homeschooled after all. They'd have to hire a tutor for math.

"It's part of the slow but steady takeover by the government in its attempt to become the paternal entity that saves us from ourselves—which of course will backfire as historically it always does."

The man standing next to them watching the monkeys looked over at Addison. "Pretty sharp kid you got there."

"Actually, she's a pre-adult," Chase informed him.

"You mean like a midget or something?"

"I'm taking human growth hormone," Addison replied.

"You better go to college, little missy, with the smarts you

got."

"Thank you, sir."

"Polite too." He walked off.

Chase and Addison burst out laughing. "You are too much," Chase said, wiping her eyes.

"No, I'm just like you."

"I think it would be better if you weren't. I'm weird and socially maladjusted."

"But you're improving." She dug a Wet-Wipe out of her backpack and wiped her hands. She pulled out another one for Chase and wiped Chase's sticky chin.

"Thanks," Chase said, using the rest of it to clean her hands.

"You want to go to the aquarium and see the jellyfish?"

"What about Hilda and the others?" Chase asked.

"I'll call her," Addison said, whipping out her cell phone. "And tell her you have a stomachache from eating all this processed food and we have to go home."

Chase was about to say wouldn't it seem more feasible if you were the one with the stomachache but thought better of it. "Isn't that lying?" The morals of this act concerned her more.

Addison sighed heavily. "Do you want me to tell her that we think the group is hideous, that we'd rather have our wisdom teeth removed than spend the rest of the day with them at the zoo?"

"No."

"This is politely rephrasing the truth. You could have a tummy ache. It could get better so we went to the aquarium because you didn't want to disappoint me."

"You don't have political ambitions do you?" Chase inquired.

"Of course not. Politicians are banal and corrupt." She pulled up Hilda on her cell phone, called, muttered platitudes and clicked off.

"All clear?"

"Affirmative." Addison hopped up, shouldered her backpack and looked inquisitively at Chase.

"I'm coming."

"Can I drive your car?"

"No!" Chase said.

"Just testing. I may be precocious, but you are still the official grown-up."

"I know and that's what scares me." Chase eyed the giraffes as they passed. She'd always thought they were the most amazing creatures.

"Don't worry, if you can handle me, Bud will be a cinch."

"I don't think I'm a good influence," Chase said as they passed through the exit gates.

"Why?"

"Because I thought it was funny when you poisoned your father," Chase said.

"Your best trait, the one that will make your child respect you the most, is honesty. That's all we want and parents hardly ever do it. My mom lies to me all the time and she has no idea that I know. That's almost worse than the lie. Lie to me and then underestimate my intelligence on top of it—now that is an insult."

Chase, having located the car with Addison's help, clicked the alarm and helped Addison get in the Hummer. "Gawd, I can't wait to get taller. This short stuff is really getting old," Addison said.

Chase got in the driver's seat and said, "SUVs are a little high even for height-challenged adults."

Addison smiled. "Thanks, for not underestimating me."

"Thank you for understanding me."

When Gitana got home, Chase and Addison were eating cherry Popsicles and perusing the New York Times Book Review. Both had blazing red lips.

"Well, hello there. Chase didn't tell me we had company. I'm Gitana."

"Addison." She offered her hand and firmly shook Gitana's.

"You're Chase's new friend from that class..."

"That stupid parenting class. You can say it. You don't go

and you're right not to. My mom bailed on me again so we're hanging out until she's done doing what she does."

"Got it." Gitana pulled up a stool at the kitchen island. "Whew, Saturdays are getting rough."

"Especially when you're pregnant," Addison said.

"Yes."

"You want some lemonade or water or something?" Chase said, getting up.

"Lemonade would be nice. So what are you two up to?"

"Well, Addison is also a writer, so we're going through the book reviews learning some dos and don'ts of the trade."

"And what's credible and what's professional jealousy," Addison said, circling a large passage and pursing her lips.

"I see," Gitana said.

Addison's cell phone rang. The tag ring was The Eagles, 'Witchy Woman.' "Excuse me, it's my mother."

Gitana frowned. "I hope you didn't teach her that."

Chase held up her hand, "I swear. See, there are others who use the phone in this way. I am not alone."

"Others? As in aliens from a parallel universe who despise their mothers."

"Exactly." Chase cleaned up the Popsicle wrappers. She kissed Gitana's cheek. "I missed you. We had the best time and I wished you were there."

Addison raised her voice. "No, I don't mind spending the rest of the evening with the housekeeper who only speaks Russian. Sure, hold on." She handed the phone to Chase. "She wants to talk to you." Addison scowled and went back to circling offensive phrases in the newspaper.

"Hi, Peggy. What's up?"

"I was wondering if you could drop Addison by the house. I'm going to be longer than I thought and Dickhead isn't around as usual."

Chase assumed Dickhead was Addison's father. "Sure, we're going out to dinner so we'll drop her by." She looked at Addison

studying the newspaper.

"Maybe if she liked, Addison could come to dinner with us," Gitana suggested.

"Is that all right with you?" Chase asked Addison as she put her hand over the minute hole that she'd always assumed was the mouthpiece.

"Let me check my appointment book. No, I'm not busy."

Chase smiled and mouthed the words, "smart-ass."

Addison smiled sweetly.

"Peggy, if it's all right with you we could take Addison out to dinner with us and then home. We won't be out late."

"That would be wonderful. Tell Addison to hit the ATM for dinner money."

"Addison has a debit card?" Chase said, somewhat taken aback.

"Of course. Thanks so much, Chase. I really owe you." She clicked off.

Addison rooted around in her backpack and pulled out a small black leather wallet and extracted her debit card. "It's how I get my allowance. Dinner, however, is not out of my stash. She'll be reimbursing me for this."

"Gotcha," Chase said. She glanced at Gitana.

"It's not like you can carry around a lot of cash," Addison said. "I mean, think of it—twenty dollars doesn't buy much. A twelve-pack of Red Bull at Costco is thirty-two dollars, a candy bar is a buck and a quarter, a composition book, three-ninety-nine and not to mention lead refills for these." She picked up her blue mechanical pencil and waved it around.

Gitana studied Addison's black and white marbled composition book and then the pencil. They were identical to Chase's.

"I had nothing to do with it. She came that way."

Addison nodded. "We have similar styles. It's less stressful writing in pencil and mechanical pencils are better because you don't have to sharpen them. I don't, however, twirl mine, or play catch with it."

"Okay," Gitana said.

"We'll feed the dogs while you get cleaned up. You could take a leisurely bath."

"That sounds lovely. Why are the dogs so tired? Both of them are passed out under the juniper tree." Gitana got up slowly. At four months she was really starting to show. Chase gave her a lift up.

"We played big ball for almost an hour," Chase said. Big ball was a game that used hard rubber balls with a handle so the dogs could pick them up and catch them. Jane was a master dribbler and if she were human would have made a great soccer player as she skirted and out-dodged her opponent, usually Chase, and got the ball to the net that Chase had installed. Annie was the catcher. Chase would throw the ball high and Annie would run and catch it by the handle. Addison had loved the game. They played until Chase begged off saying she was old and had to rest.

"Can I make their dinner?" Addison asked as Chase pulled out a bowl of boiled chicken, a pack of frozen chopped broccoli and two Russet potatoes.

"Sure."

"Why do they eat such weird food?" Addison said, as she poured the broccoli into their bowls.

"Because I have a dog cookbook and I don't like them to eat meat byproducts and wheat gluten."

"What exactly are meat byproducts?" Addison asked.

Chase started the potatoes to boil. "My point exactly, what are meat byproducts?"

Addison concurred and took the shredded chicken meat. "At least we know what this is."

* * *

Lacey watched as Gitana and Addison played skeet ball. "I thought we were going to the Artichoke Cafe."

"What's wrong with Peter Piper Pizza?" Chase asked. Addison was cheering Gitana on as she attempted to throw

painted wooden balls into wooden rings.

"lb Addison, fun is a foreign concept. I don't think sacrificing one evening to the betterment of a child's life is a horrid thing," Chase replied.

Jasmine came back with a large bowl of vanilla ice cream covered in yellow, blue and red sprinkles. "This place is great!"

Lacey sighed. "Well, at least someone likes it."

"Want a bite?" Jasmine asked.

"It does look good," Lacey said.

Instead of handing the spoon to Lacey, she fed her the ice cream. Chase watched at they gazed at each other and had something akin to spoon sex. Huh, she thought, maybe Lacey isn't as straight as she thinks. She claimed to be always on the lookout for Mr. Right but did very little to find him. Her best friend was a lesbian and her straight friends had bad partners. This was an interesting combo.

"I can't believe we ate all that pizza," Lacey said, pointing to the three large and now empty platters that still graced the red and white checkered plastic tablecloth.

"I'm going to have massive heartburn," Chase said, looking down at the empty platter of pizza.

"Oh, here, take one of these," Jasmine said, pulling out a bottle of Zantac. "This is good stuff."

"Thanks," Chase said, popping two pills with her enormous cup of Coke. She never had this kind of food, but then she had never actually been to this kind of place. Addison broadened her horizons and she felt fortunate.

Addison and Gitana returned to the table. Breathless, Gitana said, "She won."

"But you were really close," Addison said. Her eyes were shiny and Chase could tell she was tired.

"We'd better get you home," Chase said. She glanced outside. Night had finally come. She always found the lingering twilight of summer disturbing. She wanted night to come at a logical hour so she could begin her evening. With day clinging for so long, she ended up going to bed late which in turn screwed up her morning. This rigidity would have to be altered when Bud arrived.

"I had no idea places like this even existed," Addison said, gazing around in pure delight.

"Your parents never brought you here for your birthday or something?" Jasmine said.

Chase glanced pityingly at Jasmine and then looked at Addison. They nodded at each other in joint agreement that Jasmine was a complete airhead.

"Let me think about it. Uh, no. They wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this."

"That's why you're a pre-adult instead of a kid. You never got the chance to be one," Lacey said.

Chase kicked her under the table.

"Ouch," Lacey said, bending over to rub her shin.

"No, she's right. I've tried, but I can't seem to be like the other kids."

Addison stared morosely at her empty pizza plate. Gitana took her hand. "Addison, you can't turn off your brain just to fit in or be the way the other kids are. You're really smart and you should never want that to go away. Being a kid has more to do with having fun, with laughing and playing. You did that today."

Addison looked at her. "That's good spin, but I do like the concept."

Lacey laughed. "I still hold my opinion of you as a pre-adult. But I wouldn't worry about it—look at Chase—she was never a child either. She's been a weirdo since the day she was born and she turned out all right."

Everyone laughed and had there been proper cutlery at the table instead of plastic knives and forks Chase would have done Lacey bodily harm. Instead, she kicked her other shin.

"I guess you're right. I could put my jovial pre-adult photo smiling and having fun on my MySpace profile and see what that gets me. There must be others," Addison said.

"You don't do that do you?" Chase said. She'd heard horrid things about kids and the Internet.

"No, it's stupid narcissism. I only use the Internet for research purposes."

"Of course," Chase said, inwardly sighing.

Chase and Gitana drove Addison home. She lived in a massive house in the Foothills. The Sandia Mountains made up her backyard. Chase pulled up in the circular drive. "Here, let me walk you up so your mom will know you got in safe."

"Sure." Addison pulled her backpack up on her shoulders and led the way to the front door with its elaborate white stucco portico.

Addison plugged in the code that opened the front door. A tiny gray-haired woman with a face wrinkled everywhere and the tightest bun Chase had ever seen came rushing into the hallway. She definitely spoke a language Chase had never heard before except on television.

"That's fine. I'm off to bed," Addison told the woman. The woman nodded. She disappeared as quickly as she appeared. Apparently aware that Chase was confused Addison said, "She told me my mother isn't home yet. It's all right. I'll leave her a note. Thanks for a really nice day."

"But you understood what she said."

Addison smiled slyly. "That's our secret."

"So maybe I could see you next Saturday," Chase said, peering down the hall at a large painting of black and brown mustangs running wild on the prairie.

"Sure. Could we skip the Hilda-part and go solo?"

"Good plan but would your mom go for it?"

"She'd be delighted. After all, in her eyes I'd have a new babysitter but that's not what it is." She set her backpack down and didn't look at Chase like she feared the answer.

Grown people must have truly abused her sense of trust. "Of course not. I was hoping you considered me a compatriot despite my having exited pre-adulthood."

"But have you?"

Chase smiled. "Well, perhaps not. That's why I have you as one of my few mentors. It's an elite club."

"Do I get one of those double-breasted blazers with the coat of arms on the breast pocket?"

"I'll get my tailor right on it."

"You know how your friends hug one another..."

"Yes?"

"Could I have one?"

Chase squatted down thinking she'd had some short friends before but not this short and gave her a hug. Then she pinched her. "Don't let the bedbugs bite."

Addison squealed. "Uck!"

"My sentiments exactly. Think of what you want to do next week."

"Oh, I will," Addison said, looking cunning.

"Nothing overly dangerous or toxic."

"We'll see."

Chase watched Addison walk down the marble-tiled hallway with the gold-trimmed walls and an eighteen-foot ceiling. She looked so small. Chase let herself out.

When she got in the car, Gitana said, "You're going to make a great father."

"I hope so. Addison is so like me at her age it's almost freaky." She drove out of the driveway, glancing at the house again.

"It is. You know, they say you have two chances in your life for making good changes—once when you're a child and the other when you're a parent. Or surrogate parent in Addison's case."

"What are you saying? That we could work on becoming normal together?" She turned on Tramway and headed toward the freeway. The twinkling house lights seemed homey against the black mass of the Sandia Mountains.

"Not exactly normal but maybe eccentric without the savagery."

"How boring."

Gitana pinched her.

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31