Leap Day (3 page)
Rob logs off and stares at the little IM box for a few seconds.
See u soon.
That’s the best she could come up with? In all these months that he’s been using the L-word, Anne has never said it back. He can hear his parents moving around downstairs and hurries down to join them. Josie’s Leap Day birthdays are pretty fun, and they come with free pizza from Domino’s. Mom saw to it that Josie was one of the first hundred leapers registered when Domino’s started the promotion, and now she gets free pizza for life, each Leap Day birthday.
“Rob,” his mother asks as he slides into the kitchen on his socks. “Will you take down the plant in the den and hang this up?” She hands him the spaceship piñata.
Rob shakes it. “Where’s the candy?”
“It’s not in there? It must have come separately.” She rifles through the big bag from Fat Paulie’s Party Store and pulls out a plastic container full of assorted candy and chocolates.
Rob opens the top of the spaceship and scoops the candy into it. Tootsie Rolls and tiny boxes of Nerds and packs of Smarties drop inside with pleasing
plunks.
Even though he hasn’t even eaten breakfast, he’s very tempted to stuff some candy in his mouth. But then Anne’s
See u soon
runs through his mind, and he knows that if he gains any more weight he won’t be able to turn it into muscle and he’ll just get fat. Then it’ll be Anne saying,
See u later, I’m finding a new boyfriend.
“Where’d you stick the balloons?” Josie’s father asks as he opens and shuts the two hall closets.
“They’re in the trunk of my car,” Josie’s mother answers, her mouth full of homemade birthday muffin. She decides she used too much salt and smushes some sugar on the top to try and balance it out.
Josie’s father lifts the car key off the hook on the kitchen wall and heads out to the garage. A slight chill still hangs in the air and it reminds him of how he used to leave for work every day at this time. He’d head downtown with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and the briefcase his father gave him when he passed the CPA exam twenty years ago in the other. Now the briefcase is in the corner of his home office collecting dust. He reaches into the deep trunk and carefully grasps the strings of sixteen multicolored helium balloons and one silver Mylar one. The approach of Josie’s sixteenth birthday made him start thinking about what he had wanted to do with his life back when he was sixteen. He had wanted to help people. But not just people anywhere; he wanted to help people at Disney World. Most people don’t think that anyone needs help there, but they do. When he was sixteen he went on a class trip to Disney World, which had just opened a few years before. He had slipped away to find an ice cream cone and stumbled across a little boy crying on a bench in a still undeveloped part of the park. No one else was around.
“Hey mister, do you know where Mickey Mouse is?” the boy had asked, sniffling. “My mama said he was here but I don’t see him nowhere.”
No one had ever called him “mister” before. “Where’s your mother now?”
The boy shrugged and his face started to crumple again.
“Let’s go find Mickey,” he said, taking the boy’s hand. Quietly he asked a girl selling popcorn where he would return a lost child. She directed him to City Hall at the end of Main Street. A “guest relations host” came right over and brought the boy to his frantic mother, then took them to see Mickey Mouse, and then gave the boy a free ice cream cone. Josie’s father knows this because he followed them.
From that moment on, he had wanted that man’s job. He wanted to be a guest relations host at the Magic Kingdom. In fact, that’s why he moved here from Tampa after college. But then he got married and started having kids and there was no way he could pursue his dream. But now the kids are almost out of the house, and he has carefully planned for their college educations. Still, he is dreading telling his family that for the past two weeks he has spent every afternoon training for his new part-time job. They will think he has gone insane. Maybe six months of being out of work will do that to a guy.
He hurries back into the house.
Rob sees the look of determination on his sister’s face when he teases her about failing her driver’s test. He admires her. On some level she must know she’s not the world’s greatest driver, but she’s determined to pass. She’s always been much more willing to take risks and try new things, whereas he would rather blend into the background. It was Josie who brought home the notice about football tryouts last year and stuck it on the fridge so he’d have to see it every time he walked by. He gets the feeling that Josie doesn’t know how special she is. When she closes her door to get dressed, he decides he’ll offer to drive her to school today and he’ll tell her that he’s proud of her. It’ll be his birthday present to her. He and Anne can be alone later.
Josie’s parents finish taping up the streamers so Josie will see them when she comes down for breakfast.
“Honey,” Josie’s father says tentatively as he ties a yellow balloon around the banister in the front hall, “do you remember what you wanted to do with your life when you were a kid?”
Josie’s mom pauses. “I wanted to be a ballerina.” Then she laughs. “But my body had other ideas.” By the time Josie’s mom was twelve, she had the biggest bust and hips in the seventh grade. She is grateful that Josie takes after her father, small and slight, and is spared the teasing she had to endure. She steps into the kitchen and calls out, “Why do you ask?”
He focuses intently on the green streamer in his hand, then replies, “I was just thinking, since I have some time on my hands now, that maybe I’d start a new part-time gig. Something to keep me busy while the recruiter tries to find me a new job.” He joins her in the kitchen and holds his breath as he waits for her response.
Taking the rest of the muffins out of the oven, Josie’s mom says, “I think that’s a great idea. You should definitely do it.” She turns and flips open her notebook to make sure she has all the ingredients she needs for the day ahead. Josie’s dad waits for her to ask what the new hobby is, but she doesn’t. He backs out of the room and goes into his office. While he waits for the computer to boot up he feels a new excitement bubble up in him. Maybe it would be good to tell them about his new plan on Josie’s Leap Day birthday. There’s just something special about this day. He looks out the window and sees his wife and daughter waiting at the street corner for the bus. He feels blessed that his family members like each other. It was an unexpected gift.
Six blocks away, Jason Count sits on the curb in front of his house. He is stroking his girlfriend Emily Caldwell’s back as they wait for the bus. Thank god she decided to come to his house last night instead of running away again. His mother had been very cool about letting her stay in the guest room. She even lent her a t-shirt for school because Emily’s tank top didn’t cover the bruise on her upper arm. As they wait for the bus Jason fantasizes about punching Emily’s father in the face. Jason will never get the chance. Tonight, Mr. Caldwell will leave Bryan’s Pub and will ignore the frantic honks of the oncoming motorcycle. He will soar eight feet in the air before breaking his leg in four places. The twenty-five-year-old motorcyclist will be paralyzed from the waist down for the rest of his life. From then on, Emily’s father will walk without raising his head so he doesn’t have to meet people’s eyes. He will never touch another drop of alcohol, or his daughter, again.
Katy Parker looks out the streaky bus window as it approaches her best friend Josie’s stop. She closes the poetry notebook that was open on her lap and slips it into her bag. She’s been writing poetry since she was eight, but she’s never let anyone read it. It is embarrassing to her that she gets straight A’s but can’t write a poem worth showing anyone.
Katy is excited to give Josie her present tonight at the lake. She and Zoey and Megan chipped in for it. They wanted to get her something unique, not just a bracelet or a gift certificate to the mall. As the bus pulls up Katy thinks that Josie doesn’t look near sixteen. They used to be the same height until puberty hit and Katy shot up five inches. Now she feels gangly and awkward next to Josie, like her arms and legs belong to someone else. As Josie climbs on, Katy slips the birthday note she wrote at 1:00
A.M.
into the front pocket of her jeans. She had tried telling Josie the contents of the note yesterday because she thought she would burst if she didn’t, but she couldn’t get up the nerve. She is still undecided about whether she’ll give it to her or not. She’s not sure how Josie will take the news. And she’s not sure if she’s ready for the outcome.
Mr. Polansky removes the sign-up list from the wall outside the drama studio. He quickly scans through the list of students who have signed up to audition for his play this afternoon. He is pleased to see some newcomers, along with a few returning students whom he hasn’t seen in a few years, and some regulars. He is not surprised to see that Josie Taylor’s name is the first one on the list in the Juliet category. She must have signed up the moment he thumbtacked the sheet to the bulletin board. He’s never had a student quite like her. Oh sure, he’s had determined kids before, but Josie is different. She had wanted the lead role in the fall musical so badly, he felt he couldn’t possibly deny her. And she did a perfectly fine job as Anna. It’s the air of desperation about it that worries him. Her friend Megan Panopolis has signed up for the audition also, but for the role of Juliet’s nurse. With only three female roles of any substance in the play, he’s going to have to think long and hard about what to do.
“All right, Mom!” Zoey yells from her bed. She retreated here after calling Katy and hasn’t been able to motivate herself out of it again. “Hold your horses. I said I’ll wash it off.”
“I don’t understand why you keep doing this to yourself,” her mother responds, leaning her weight against Zoey’s door. “You’re a lovely girl just the way you are. Your brother doesn’t mind being pale.”
Zoey thinks it’s ridiculous when her mother compares her to Dennis. They couldn’t possibly be more different. She doesn’t bother to respond. Instead, she throws the patchwork quilt over her head and does what she always does when she’s upset. She holds her breath and thinks of things to look forward to. First on her list is the lake tonight and all the new experiences it could provide for her. If Josie doesn’t pass her driving test tonight, Zoey knows there will be no party. At this point the test could go either way. And then what will she have to look forward to?
Before Zoey’s family moved to Florida, she was so timid that sometimes people would talk to her and she couldn’t even answer them. The words would be right on her tongue, but she couldn’t get them out. When they moved here it was a fresh start. She decided that she would be a new person. A person who had friends. Who had
fun.
And it worked! Katy came over from next door the day Zoey’s family arrived in Orlando, and then she introduced Zoey to Megan and Josie the next week. She was instantly drawn to Megan, who seemed so exotic and who made every occasion fun without even trying. Sometimes, in the dark moments of the night, Zoey fears that without her new friends, she might revert back to her old self and blend into the woodwork again. If Zoey doesn’t have every experience offered to her now, she’s afraid her time will run out. Her mother knocks on the door and tells her to get in the shower, but Zoey pretends not to hear and burrows deeper into the sheets.
Mrs. Joy Greenspan checks the clock over the door and sees she still has time before the bell rings. Sometimes she thinks the homeroom bell is the best sound in the world. She knows she should be burned out by now, after twenty-five years of teaching, but she still loves it. Everyone says her first name fits her to a tee. Joy. She hated the name when she was younger but now it pleases her. She goes to the window and pours out the dregs of her third cup of coffee before heading to the blackboard to write, HAPPY 4TH BIRTHDAY, JOSIE! She wipes the excess chalk dust off on her skirt, glad to have remembered her student’s special birthday. Reading the students’ files each August has served her well. She knows who is on Ritalin, who has the highest IQ, who the lowest, and who once started a fire on the playground in fifth grade using a magnifying glass and a leaf. She knows who lives with his grandparents because his parents can’t take care of him, who has diabetes, and by offering to be an unbiased ear, she knows who has gotten pregnant and who is afraid to go home at night. She knows more about them than they know about themselves. She gives them extra homework because she wants them to suck the marrow out of life and learn all they can from this world. They are the only children she has ever wanted.
8:20
A.M.
– 9:35
A.M.
These are the things I’m afraid of: an airplane falling on my house, the dark, being in small places, failing my driver’s test, spiders, drowning, snakes, never growing taller, never getting out of this town, alligators, war, anyone in my family dying, having my friends turn against me, eels, getting old, ghosts (including the ones that get in your car at the Haunted Mansion), letting everyone down, and never falling in love. Oh, and I’m also petrified of tornadoes. We get them sometimes here in central Florida and it scares me to death. When my mother was growing up on the outskirts of town, her younger brother was plucked from his very own bed as if the hand of God came down and took him. He was found on the front porch with nearly every bone in his body broken. He didn’t make it through the night. My mother said that next to his body was a whole pile of fish — even though they didn’t live anywhere near a lake — and some smashed tomatoes, which aren’t even native to Florida. Now I’m older than my own uncle ever got to be. It’s weird.
But on the positive side, I’m not afraid of heights, clowns, or public speaking. The only day of the year when I’m not afraid of dying is my birthday. I mean, the odds of both being born
and
dying on Leap Day are practically astronomical. Sometimes when I get up in the morning I wonder if I’ll die before I get back in my bed. Today I breathe a little easier. I know I will sleep in my bed tonight. Or at worst, on my floor.
