He was staring at me in what—in the friendliest of terms—might be called disappointment.
And that’s when I saw the red curb.And the words NO PARKING.And the sign.
“Bobby,” I said, “no, please, you don’t understand.There weregeese.It was out of my control.An act of God.Force majeure.I’m the victim here.”
He sighed.And then he clicked his pen.
4
I didn’t remember how it started.Or, for that matter, who started it.It was one of those things that seemed like it had been going on, well, forever.And by this point, we were both responsible for this state of affairs.And more importantly, there was no going back.
I do remember, though, when I committed.Heart and soul.It was when I walked into the den, and everything was upside down.Everything.The chairs.The hassocks.The lamps, the clock, the mirror.Every single book.He’d even figured out a way to change the orientation on my laptop screen, and I spent two hours looking at it upside down, trying to figure out how to change it back.
I’d had to retaliate, of course.That was the only option.And I knew his weak spot.
One night, when we’d all been hanging out in the billiard room, I’d let Keme and Millie have the chesterfield, and Bobby and I had stretched out on the floor to watch a movie.That was when I’d noticed that, in a rare change, Keme wasn’t wearing his slides.He was wearing a pair of sneakers that I suspected had come from Bobby.And the plan came together just like that.
While everyone else was focused on the TV, I tied Keme’s laces together.It was easy; the movie wasKill Bill: Volume 1, and Millie hadlotsof questions.It only took me thirty seconds, and then I lay down again and watched the movie with Bobby—cue the gratuitous snuggling.(Also, Keme made a lot of gagging and retching and puking noises because Bobby and I were, um, cozy, and so I felt doubly justified.)
The magic happened (uh, wait, no, strike that) when Millie asked if there was any more popcorn, and Keme literally hopped off the chesterfield.(This is the same boy who, when I asked him to toss me a blanket, took all the blankets and made a nest for himself on the chesterfield.And then I had to fight him.Well, I would have had to make Bobby fight him.Except Bobby asked for a blanket, and Keme gave him one without even blinking.) Keme managed one step before he pitched forward and fell face-first onto the floor.
Not that Keme was innocent—you have to remember that.Because a few days later, when I was meditating (nap), Keme drew something on my face.Something dirty.Like,obscene.And do you know what Bobby did when he saw it?No moral outrage.No law and order.He didn’t even shoot anybody.He just got that huge, goofy grin and asked if he could take a picture.
That’s why, a week later, I had to fill Keme’s backpack with plastic camels.Not just one plastic camel.Not five or ten.I need you to understand that his backpack wasfullof them.And when he opened it at school and they all came tumbling out, he said some very naughty words and had to talk to the principal.(Presumably about his unholy love for camels as well as, you know, the language.)
He put my underwear in the freezer.All of it.And Bobby just told me I should go commando.
So, I put a spider down the back of Keme’s shirt.
If you want to hear that boyscream.
(It wasn’t a real spider, but it was soft and hairy, and it definitely did the trick.)
One day, during a self-hypnosis session (really deep nap; I was dreaming I was a wizard), he superglued a party hat to my head.
Bobby didn’t even ask that time.He just took the picture, that enormous smile splashed across his face as he tried to pretend he felt sorry for me.
INDIRA HAD TO CUT IT OFF.
Which was why, now, I was hiding in the reception room.Waiting.Because I was about to have my chance at revenge.
Instead, Bobby found me first.He poked his head into the reception room, spotted me, and then came into the room.“What are you doing?”
I shushed him.
“What are you—”
I shushed him again.More forcefully.
“—doing?”Bobby finished in a whisper.
“I’m waiting for Keme.Millie texted that she’s on her way over, and you know how he always meets her at the door like a puppy?Well, I’m going to sneak up behind him and then scream right in his ear.It’ll scare the pants off him, and, as a bonus, he’ll be super embarrassed because it happened in front of Millie.”
Bobby looked at me long enough that I started to feel judged.
“He started it,” I said—which might not have been historically accurate, but at this point, it was hard to say.
“I know this started off as something fun,” Bobby said.“And I know you do it because you two love each other and—I honestly can’t believe I’m going to say this—you don’t know how to express your feelings.Which is really a pot-and-kettle situation, I know.”
