Lois Metzger - A Trick of the Light

Mike tries to remember all his hiding places, but it’s difficult. He has so much on his mind.

Mom: “I think it’s a mouse.” She sounds frightened. “I always thought, because of Mighty Joe Young, mice would stay away. Could you look around? Just the thought of finding a dead mouse …” She shivers.

Mike finds bags of rotting food hidden everywhere. The worst offender is in the coat closet, near the front door—a moldy greenish-brownish mush of something in the pocket of a jacket belonging to his dad.

Mom: “Did you find anything?”

Mike: “A dead mouse in the coat closet. In the corner, all curled up.”

Mom: “Oh! Poor thing.”

When Mike tells Amber about it, she laughs and laughs. She finds it hilarious that his mom feels sorry for a mouse that never existed.

Now Tamio’s waiting for Mike outside homeroom. Before Mike can brush past him, Tamio says, “Amber’s in the hospital.”

Mike: “No way. I just talked to her.”

Tamio: “When was that?”

Mike has to think. He wonders why it’s so hard to concentrate sometimes.

Because your mind is on important things.

Mike tries to remember his most recent conversation with Amber. It feels like they talk all the time, but he realizes they haven’t actually spoken since lunch on Friday. Today is Monday. The weekend—running, working out, looking in the mirror—flew by.

Tamio: “She had a heart attack.”

Mike: “You’re crazy. She’s too young.”

Tamio: “Well, she screws up her body. She makes herself throw up.”

Mike: “Where’d you hear that?”

Tamio: “Why do you think she’s always trying to cover it up with those candies? Like the ones I smell on you.”

That is not why Amber likes FireBalls. But never mind. Mike is so upset, his hands start shaking.

Calm down. Tamio doesn’t even know Amber, remember?

Mike (taking a deep breath): “You don’t know anything about Amber.”

Tamio: “I figured you knew. I thought maybe you were trying to help her out.”

Mike: “She doesn’t need help. She’s happy. She’s the happiest person I know.” Mike remembers how Amber almost fell down in the cafeteria. “She probably just broke her ankle.”

Tamio: “Dude. It’s not her ankle.”

The bell rings.

All day everyone is talking about Amber.

Melissa Sacks (stopping Mike in the hall): “Have you seen her in the hospital? Is she okay? A heart attack! That’s, like, such a huge thing. Is there anything I can do?”

Mike remembers Melissa pretending to stick her finger down her throat at the sight of Amber. She can go to hell, that’s what she can do.

Finally Mike makes it to the last class of the day. He’s exhausted. Mr. Clayton is talking about a new star system that’s just been discovered. Apparently Mr. Clayton is the only one excited about it.

Mr. Clayton: “Imagine—a triple-sun system! The main sun is bright yellow. There’s also a large orange sun and a small red one. It’s one of the oddest places in our galaxy.”

When class ends and kids pile out, Mr. Clayton looks right at Mike.

Mr. Clayton: “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Mike wants to go home, call Amber, run, work out. He wishes he were anywhere else, even in that triple-sun system, which at least sounds warm.

As Mike approaches Mr. Clayton’s desk, Mr. Clayton says, “Your finger’s bleeding.”

Mike looks down. It’s covered in blood. He wonders why he never feels it. Why hasn’t it healed yet?

Some things take time.

Mike (all innocence): “Is that what you wanted to tell me, about my finger?”

Mr. Clayton: “I’m concerned about you, Mike. Several times you seemed to lose your balance. I thought you might pass out.”

It’s unfortunate that Mr. Clayton noticed that. The last class of the day is always the hardest to get through because Mike is so eager to leave and get on#x2 with his life. Sometimes he stands up too fast and he’s short of breath and the room goes suddenly dark. But it only lasts a moment.

It gets hot in here and that makes you dizzy.

Mike: “Yeah, well, it gets hot in here and I get a little dizzy.”

Mr. Clayton: “Maybe you should take your jacket off, then.”

Mike (with a shrug): “I guess I forget I have it on.”

Mr. Clayton: “You’ve lost weight.”

You were sick. You had the flu.

Mike: “I had the flu.”

Mr. Clayton: “You didn’t miss school.”

Mike: “Yeah, I had it over the weekend. It was a weekend-only kind of thing.”

Mr. Clayton: “My nephew looked a lot like you, not long ago. It turns out he was really sick.”

Mike: “I just got a checkup from a doctor. He said I was fine.”

Mr. Clayton: “My nephew had five checkups, and five doctors told him he was fine. But he was really sick.”

Does Mr. Clayton have more medical expertise than five doctors?

Mr. Clayton: “Now he’s on the road to recovery.”

Mike: “Who?”

Mr. Clayton (carefully): “My nephew.”

This is so tedious.

Mike: “The road to recovery. That’s good.”

Mr. Clayton: “It’s a long road.”

Mike: “Well, at least he’s on it.”

Mr. Clayton: “My nephew was on the wrestling team. His coach wanted him to be a certain weight. He stopped eating, just—stopped. He exercised like crazy. He ran for hours. He could do hundreds of sit-ups.”

Don’t be jealous. You’ll get there.

Mr. Clayton: “His parents told him he couldn’t run. He snuck out in the middle of the night, and his body just gave out. He collapsed, hit his head, needed seventeen stitches.”

His parents shouldn’t have told him he couldn’t run. That’s how accidents happen.

Mr. Clayton: “He almost died. He could’ve bled to death.”

Mike: “Well, at least he didn’t.” Mike turns to leave. “See you tomorrow.”

Mr. Clayton: “You take care of yourself, now.”

It sounds like a threat.

MIKE CAN’T GET THROUGH TO AMBER ON HER CELL—it goes straight to voice mail. He looks up her number and calls her house.

Woman: “Hello?”

Mike: “Hi, this is Mike Welles.”

Woman: “Amber said you might call.” Of course it’s Amber’s mom, but she doesn’t identify herself. Her tone is so flat, she sounds like a computer. I take an instant dislike to her, but Mike reserves judgment.

Mike: “Is Amber all right?”

Amber’s mom: [nothing]

Mike: “Hello?”

Amber’s mom: “I can’t go into it right now. You can’t call her directly. You can visit if you want. Let me give you her information, the hospital and visiting hours.”

Mike writes it all down.

Mike: “I know that hospital. My grandmother died there.”

Oops.

Mike: “Different floor.”

Amber’s mom: “Is that all?”

Mike: “I heard something happened with her heart?”

Amber’s mom: “Like I said, I can’t go into it right now. I’ve got a lot on my plate.”

Mike thinks that’s an odd way to put it, considering.

Later Mike is so hungry he can’t sleep. Even FireBalls don’t help. He feels like there’s an animal in his stomach, clawing him with huge talons, taking him apart from the inside. He wishes he could call Amber. How did Amber know Mike would need to call her in the middle of the night? She’s so intuitive, almost clairvoyant.

Mike goes to the kitchen. Mighty Joe Young is digging into his Feline Fine.

Mike: “Don’t throw up.”

Mighty Joe Young looks up at him with large copper eyes. Mike wonders if the cat is thinking about what he just said. Mike tries to remember what Amber told him she eats when she can’t sleep.