David Fleming - The Saturday Boy

“Oh! Hi, Piggy. How’d you sleep?”

Her voice was all mumbly but I knew what she said. She’d been saying the exact same thing to me every morning for as long as I could remember.

“Okay, I think,” I said. “How did you sleep?”

“Hm?”

“How did you sleep?”

“Not well, sweetie. Not well at all.”

“Maybe you could take a nap later,” I said.

She smiled a little—the kind where it’s not really a smile at all.

“Maybe.”

The coffeemaker beeped and Mom got a mug from the drying rack and poured coffee into it. She took it to the table and sat down. I stood there in my slippers and sweatshirt and waited for something else to happen. When it didn’t I grabbed the last of the frozen waffles from the freezer and stuck them in the toaster oven and turned it on.

“Breakfast! You need breakfast,” Mom exclaimed suddenly. She got up out of her chair so fast she almost spilled her coffee. “I can’t believe I forgot! I’m the worst mother in the world.”

“I don’t know, Mom. The world’s a pretty big place.”

“Here, what can I get for you? Waffles? Let me get you some waffles.”

She opened the freezer and moved some things around. A bag of frozen chicken nuggets fell out and landed on her foot.

“Dammit! I’m so sorry about this, honey. It’s just… I’ve been—where the hell are the waffles already?”

“They’re in the toaster. Mom, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” she said. “It’s really not.”

“They’re just waffles.”

“Annie? What’s going on?” Aunt Josie stood in the doorway, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

Mom picked up the bag of chicken nuggets and put it back in the freezer and shut the door. Then she leaned her forehead against it and closed her eyes.

“I forgot to fix breakfast for Derek,” she said.

“Come on. Come sit down. Have some coffee,” said Aunt Josie.

She took Mom’s arm and sat her down and put the coffee in front of her. Then she sat down also. She looked worried. I wondered if there might be something else going on besides waffles but I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t think it was a good time to ask. Instead I got a plate from the cabinet and when my waffles were ready I put peanut butter and Marshmallow Fluff on them and took them into the living room to eat in front of cartoons. A little while later I thought I heard my mom cry out. A little while after that I smelled bacon.

Mom came in while I was watching Dinoboy . She took the quilt from the back of the couch and unfolded it so it covered both of us. Then she curled up against me with her head on my shoulder and we watched TV for a few minutes like that without saying anything.

“Dinoboy, eh?”

“Yup.”

“And what does he do?”

“Oh, Mom, Dinoboy’s so cool! He’s this kid who can transform into any dinosaur! He can even be like part one kind and part another like a pterodactyl with the claws of a Therazinosaurus! Plus, did you know the Therazinosaurus was actually an herbivore? He used his claws to pull the leaves down from the trees and for self-defense. I think the Therazinosaurus is my favorite dinosaur or maybe the Compsognathus. He was only the size of a chicken! What’s your favorite dinosaur, Mom? Mom?”

But she was asleep so I ended up watching the rest of Dinoboy with her leaned up against me. She got heavy after a while and I couldn’t really feel my arm anymore but I was afraid to move it because I didn’t want to wake her and it wasn’t until a rerun of Ghost Patrol that she kinda rolled over a little and I was able to get out.

The rest of the morning went by okay. I went to my room and read comics for a while and then I got dressed and put on my jacket and played outside until I got cold. Mom was just getting off the phone when I came into the kitchen.

“Around 1:30 then? And you’re sure it’s okay?” she asked. “Great! Thanks, Helen!”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Helen was Budgie’s mom’s name.

“Mom?”

“Hey, Piggy! Hungry for lunch?”

She got bread from the drawer and then opened the fridge and found some ham and cheese and mustard and took them out and put them all on the counter. Then she squirted a blob of mustard on a slice of bread and spread it around with a knife.

“Could you do me a favor and smell the ham?” she asked.

“Smell the—why?”

“To make sure it’s still good. Oh, never mind. I’ll do it.”

She took a slice and held it to her nose and made a face. Then she sniffed it again, shrugged, and put it down on the bread.

“Who was that on the phone?” I asked.

“Budgie’s mom,” she said. “And listen, before you freak out—I’m going out with your aunt Josie this afternoon. I called Budgie’s mom to see if it would be okay if you went over there to play for a while.”

My heart tumbled into my stomach. Play with Budgie? Budgie? The Dr. Mayhem to my Zeroman? Was she out of her mind?

“You want me to play with Budgie?”

“Yes.”

“But he’s my nemesis!”

“No, he’s not. You’re too young to have a nemesis.”

“He’s mean to me!”

“I know, Piggy, I’m sorry,” she said. “You two used to get along so well, though. What happened?”

“I don’t know. Now he’s only nice to me when there’s nobody else around and even then he’s not that nice. He’s just… less mean.”

It was true. Budgie and I used to be friends. Actually, the summer his family moved to town I was the only friend he had. We did everything together—we made up these awesome superheroes, Strong Guy and Fast Guy, and ran around fighting the Forces of Evil. We read comics and played video games and watched Dinoboy together. We made up secret handshakes and were going to build a castle together and keep all the grown-ups out. It was going to be awesome.

Then when school started he met all these other kids and we didn’t play together as much. Now we don’t play at all. Now he doesn’t like me and I don’t know why. I’ve never even done anything to him. He even said that Dinoboy was for nerds.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Mom said. “I absolutely hate that he’s mean to you but it would just be the two of you. It’s only for a little while, okay? Mommy really needs to get out of the house. Please?”

“Can I come with you?”

“No, honey, you can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Please?”

“Sorry.”

“Please!”

“Raising your voice won’t change anything,” Mom said. “Now eat your lunch so we can get ready to go.”

I took the sandwich and stomped over to the table. If I was a cartoon I’d have a big, black cloud over my head with lightning coming out of it. That’s how mad I was. Mom put away the ham and cheese and mustard and then stood there and watched me eat. I put the hood of my sweatshirt up.

“Stop looking at me,” I said.

“But you’re so handsome.”

“Stop it.”

“But I love you.”

“Mo-om!”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Want some chips?”

“Yes, please.”

Mom got the potato chips from the cupboard and shook some onto my plate. I took the top slice of bread off the sandwich and put the chips on the inside. Then I replaced the bread and took a bite. A lot of sandwiches taste better with potato chips in them. Especially boring sandwiches like ham and cheese. Mom sat down across from me.

“Have you told him to stop?” Mom asked.

“Told who to stop what?”

“Budgie. To stop being mean.”

“Yes. No. Not exactly,” I said. “Even when I do tell him to stop he doesn’t.”

Mom put her hand on my arm and looked me in the eyes. She frowned.