Orbiting Jupiter Page 3

  And felt my foot go through the ice and into the water and onto some rocks.

  You can’t believe how strong the current was under the ice, even just up to my knee.

  I might have screamed again.

  But Joseph had one end of the backpack.

  “Hold it!” I hollered.

  He tried to pull himself up onto the ice, but his left hand went through and he almost went under.

  I leaned toward the bank, pulling on the backpack.

  And felt my other foot slide down into the dark water and the current yanking at both knees.

  I’m pretty sure I screamed then.

  Joseph tried to push himself up on the other side, and that ice held. I pulled again on the backpack and his chest came up onto the ice.

  “Back up,” he hollered. “Back up.”

  But I couldn’t back up. The water was rushing, and if I took my feet away from the rocks beneath them, I didn’t know what would happen. Maybe I’d slide under—like the yellow dog.

  Joseph’s whole body was up on the ice now. He bellied up to the bank and rolled over onto the snow. He reached and grabbed my coat and he pulled, and I felt my feet leaving the rocks and for a second I might have screamed again, but then my back was up onto the bank and I was trying to kick—which isn’t so easy when your legs have been in freezing water, you know—and then my heels were going into snow and not into water and I stopped screaming.

  “Are you crazy?” I yelled.

  Joseph stood and shook his whole body, like a dog spraying the water away. But he was still soaked. Already his hair was freezing into black strands.

  “You are crazy!” I yelled again.

  Joseph wiped the water from his face.

  I stood too and picked up everything I had dumped out of my backpack—which was now as soaked as Joseph was—and already freezing too.

  “This is how people die,” I said. “They fall into the water and get dragged under the ice, or they make it out and freeze to death.”

  “Then we better get back to your house, Jackie,” he said.

  “It’s Jack,” I said.

  “Yeah,” said Joseph.

  “Why did you—”

  “We’re out now,” he said, and started up toward the road.

  But his lips were already turning kind of blue. And he walked like his pants were frozen—which they probably were.

  Mine were.

  So maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that when we got to the top, Mr. Canton was driving up.

  He looked at us through his windshield like we really were the most complete jerks he had ever seen. He stopped the car and rolled down his window. “Get in the back seat,” he said, and I got in and Joseph picked up his backpack and got in and he shut the door, and Mr. Canton turned the heater to high. “If someone hadn’t called the school about two crazy kids out on the ice, I wouldn’t have come here.” He turned around and looked at Joseph. “It wasn’t too hard to figure out who it would be, either.” Then he looked at me, and I guess you know what he was saying without him saying it. “Take off your coats. And your sweaters, too,” he said.

  Mr. Canton drove us home. When we stopped, he told us he’d be talking to us about this during fifth-period Office Duty. “Something for you to look forward to,” he said.

  You can imagine what my mother did when we got inside.

  “Stand in front of the wood stove,” she said.

  “Everything that’s wet, off,” she said.

  “Quickly,” she said.

  She ran upstairs and brought back the red woolen blankets from the hall cedar chest.

  The scratchy ones.

  “Underwear, too,” she said. “It’s not like there’s anything I haven’t seen.”

  She handed us the blankets.

  “Put these around you and stand there,” she said.

  Joseph took the red woolen blanket and looked at it, then he wrapped it tightly around himself.

  My mother fussed around the stove and poured two cups of hot chocolate.

  “Drink this,” she said.

  “Is there any coffee left over from—” said Joseph.

  “You’re too young,” she said.

  Joseph drank the hot chocolate.

  When my father got back, you can imagine what he did too.

  Mostly at me.

  “Jack, what do I tell you every winter?”

  “Don’t go out onto the ice until you say it’s safe.”

  “Did I say it was safe?”

  “No, sir.”

  “No, I didn’t. Quiet, Joseph. I’ll talk to you in a minute. Of all the brainless, fool things to do for a boy who has lived near a river all his life, this was the most brainless, the most fool thing you could come up with. If for one minute I could—”

  “He came onto the ice for me,” said Joseph.

  My father turned his face slowly toward Joseph. “That’s what we’ll be talking about,” he said.

  I don’t need to tell you the rest. It had a lot to do with thinking through things and making smart decisions and not taking dumb risks for no reason at all and in fact not taking dumb risks period.

  And I can’t tell you what my father said to Joseph, since he sent me to the kitchen to get going on homework. But when they were done, Joseph came and sat down next to me. He opened Physical Science Today! and flipped through the pages.

  “Sorry, Jackie,” he said.

  That’s all.

  “Jack,” I said.

  He took out his calculator and got to work.

  THAT NIGHT, IT was cold in our room and I was still sort of chilled. So I got into bed and under the covers about as quickly as a human being can do it. But when Joseph was ready, he stood by my bed, leaned his arms against the upper bunk, and looked down at me. Maybe it was because of the freezing water, but for the first time, I could see his scar clearly. The white line dragged down from under his right arm, then jagged along his whole side and into his sweatpants. I wondered if it went all the way down his leg.

  “Jackie,” he said.

  “Jack,” I said.

  “Don’t worry about Canton. Your father’s going to call him. You’ll be all right.”

  “I wasn’t worried.”

  “I know.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “I know.”

  My stomach unknotted a little bit—because I had been worried. A whole lot worried.

  Joseph shifted onto his other foot. Probably the wood floor was pretty cold.

  “And, Jackie,” he said, “don’t ever say Maddie again, okay? Her name is Madeleine. No one ever calls her Maddie except me.”

  “Okay.”

  “So don’t say it again.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  He went across to the desk and turned the light off. It was freezing, but he stood at the window, looking up at the night sky, his hand up against the cold pane. Then, finally, he came over and climbed up onto his bunk. He lay without moving. For a long while.

  “Joseph,” I said.

  After a while . . .

  “Yeah.”

  “Why did you go out on the ice?”

  After another while . . .

  “Maddie liked to skate,” he said.

  Then we both lay without moving.

  three

  THE next morning, my father told us that from now until spring, we were going to be taking the bus to school—no arguments. Since it was cold enough to freeze most parts of your body, I wasn’t too unhappy.

  To be sure we took the bus to school, he waited at the end of the road with us.

  When Mr. Haskell stopped and opened the door, he was grinning this stupid grin. “Looks like you two got your minds changed for you,” he said.

  Joseph got on the bus. He walked all the way down the aisle and sat in the last seat.

  Mr. Haskell watched him in his mirror the whole time. Then he turned back to us. “I hear your boy had some trouble yesterday,” said Mr
. Haskell.

  “Is that what you hear?” said my father.

  “That’s what I hear. I guess you took him out to the woodshed, if you know what I mean.”

  “Actually, I’m pretty proud of what he did.”

  “Almost drowning?”

  “I guess you didn’t hear everything, Haskell.”

  My father turned and walked back up to the house. He didn’t look at me.

  He didn’t need to.

  “Are you getting on or not?” said Mr. Haskell.

  I got on, and the bus lurched ahead.

  In the back, Joseph sat with Octavian Nothing propped up against the seat ahead of him. The way he looked, no one was going to be sharing his seat.

  Not even me—because halfway back John Wall pushed me across onto Danny Nations and Ernie Hupfer, and so I got up and jumped onto John Wall, and Danny Nations took off his ear buds and got up to jump on top of both of us. Then Mr. Haskell hollered about how we could all walk the rest of the way and it wouldn’t be any skin off his nose, and then he said something you probably wouldn’t hear in new First Congregational, and we all sat down.

  “You really fall into the Alliance?” said John Wall.

  “Not exactly,” I said.

  “How can you not exactly fall into a river?”

  “I went in partway.”

  “Jesus,” said Danny. “That’s how people die, you know.”

  “Just up to my waist.”

  “Up to your waist,” said John.

  “Partway,” I said.

  “You’re nuts,” said Ernie. “You are freaking freaking nuts.”

  “If he’s got any left,” said Danny. “That’s what freezes first.”

  You can guess what I did to him then.

  Another holler from Mr. Haskell.

  “I hear they turn black and fall off,” Danny whispered.

  “Cut it out, Danny,” said John Wall. “Jack’s not the one who’s nuts.” He nodded his head to the back of the bus.

  “Shut up,” I said.

  “You shut up. Everyone knows he’s psycho. He probably dragged you into the river, right?”

  “No.”

  “What are you doing hanging around him?”

  “We live in the same house, John.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” said Danny. “He’s going to be gone as soon as they find a place for him in psycho school.”

  “Shut up,” I said.

  “Maybe this is news to you, Jack-boy, but your foster brother almost killed a teacher.”

  “Really, Danny-boy? Thanks for telling me that.”

  “Every girl in school’s afraid of him,” said John.

  “No, they’re not.”

  John and Ernie and Danny nodded. “Yes, they are,” said John.

  “That’s crazy.”

  “What’s crazy is what will happen if some of the eighth-grade guys ever find your psycho foster brother by himself. And you know which eighth-grade guys I mean. That’s what’s crazy.”

  I looked at him.

  “Don’t you know?” said Danny.

  “Know what?”

  “You don’t know what he did to Jay Perkins?”

  “What?”

  “They were in D’Ulney’s class. Jay said something to Psycho about his girl, and in like two seconds he had his hands around Jay’s throat.”

  “That’s not true,” I said.

  “Ask him,” said Danny.

  “I’m not going to ask him that.”

  Danny shrugged. “All I know is that Jay Perkins would be dead right now if it wasn’t for D’Ulney. And since D’Ulney blamed Jay for saying what he did, nothing happened. But that doesn’t make any difference.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I said.

  “It means Jay Perkins is telling everyone how he’s going to bust your foster brother up.”

  John nodded. “Psycho school better start looking pretty good,” he said.

  You know what they say in books about your heart stopping?

  It’s true. It can. It does.

  Danny put his ear buds back in as the bus leaned over to the right when we turned by old First Congregational.

  I stood and went to the back of the bus. Joseph looked up from Octavian Nothing when I got there.

  “Move over,” I said.

  He looked at me a long time. Then he slid over.

  That’s how we rode the bus the rest of the way.

  MR. D’ULNEY WAS waiting when Joseph and I got off Mr. Haskell’s bus. He nodded to me and reached out to take Joseph’s arm.

  Joseph took two quick steps back.

  “It’s okay,” said Mr. D’Ulney. “It’s okay.”

  Joseph waited.

  “Let’s talk before the bell rings.”

  They went together—Joseph walking behind Mr. D’Ulney.

  I don’t know what they talked about.

  But before PE class, Coach Swieteck gave Joseph heck.

  “What did you think you were doing?” he said. Hollered, really. But you can hear everything in a gym anyway, you know.

  Joseph only shrugged.

  “You ever do something like that again, I am personally going to kick you around the perimeter of this gym.”

  Joseph looked at him.

  “How?” he said.

  “You would be surprised,” Coach Swieteck said. “Go get changed.” He twirled his wheelchair around. “Mr. Porter, Mr. Boss, since you seem to have time enough on your hands, come over here and drag the mats around the trampoline. Mr. Perkins, you set the mats around the parallel bars.”

  Joseph walked past them, into the locker room.

  “Now,” said Coach Swieteck.

  The way he said “Now”—it was sort of spooky. Like he meant something I couldn’t figure out.

  During that whole PE period, when I wasn’t doing a relay up and down the rope—which, by the way, is a stupid relay—I watched those three guys watch Joseph. And they weren’t watching him because he was so good at doing dismounts from the parallel bars.

  Joseph looked like he didn’t even notice, except once when Jay Perkins crossed in front of him when he was running toward the horse. Joseph twisted around so he wouldn’t hit him, but he had to go back to do the run again.

  I didn’t hear what Jay Perkins said to him. Joseph didn’t say anything, even though Nick Porter and Brian Boss both laughed like it was so funny.

  Sometimes, Coach Swieteck was watching those three guys too. Sometimes, he’d make sure they weren’t on the same apparatus that Joseph was on. And when the period was over, they were the ones who had to stay in the gym to roll up the mats and put them away while everyone else changed.

  Later, when I was leaving the locker room, I passed Jay Perkins, who looked at me and knew who I was. He couldn’t show it because I was just a sixth grader and he was an eighth grader, but he knew, all right. He gave me a long look.

  I kept going.

  At fifth-period Office Duty, Mr. Canton had us both sitting on the bench outside his office, ready to fly with any incredibly important messages he had. But he didn’t have any. And we had already cleaned up the attendance files. So there was nothing to do except sit on the bench while Mr. Canton walked in and out and in and out of his office, busy as all get-out.

  After almost a whole period of nothing to do, Joseph pulled Octavian Nothing out of his backpack.

  He was reading it when Mrs. Halloway walked in.

  She looked at him holding Octavian Nothing. Then Mr. Canton walked by. He told Joseph to put the book away. He wasn’t here to read or play games, you know. He was here to work. And you never knew when there might be an important errand to run.

  “I guess,” said Joseph.

  “You guess?” said Mr. Canton.

  Joseph put Octavian Nothing back in his backpack.

  Mrs. Halloway watched.

  “Being responsible,” Mr. Canton said, “means being ready to do what you’re supposed to be doing, even if
no one is watching or making you do it. Do you boys understand that?”

  I nodded. I was supposed to.

  Joseph was supposed to nod too. He didn’t.

  “Do you understand that, Mr. Brook?”

  Joseph stood. “I have to get to class,” he said.

  Mr. Canton reached for him.

  Joseph dropped his pack and immediately his back was against the wall and his hands up.

  The way he was breathing . . .

  “Don’t touch him,” I whispered. “Please, please don’t touch him.”

  Mr. Canton looked at me, then back at Joseph.

  “So you better get to class,” he said.

  I picked up Joseph’s backpack and handed it to him. His eyes never left Mr. Canton, but he took the backpack and he followed me out of the office—a half step behind.

  I could hear his breathing.

  “Joseph.”

  We both turned. It was Mrs. Halloway.

  “Joseph,” she said, “we began poorly. Shall we try again?”

  Joseph watched her.

  “I’d like to know what you think of The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing.”

  Joseph hefted his backpack up over his shoulder. Then he looked at me. “I’ll see you later,” he said, and he followed Mrs. Halloway toward her room.

  I didn’t see him again that day until after school, when I found him at the back of the bus, where it was super hot and the windows all fogged. He had propped up Octavian Nothing, and he only stopped reading when we drove past old First Congregational. Then he rubbed the fog off the windows and watched the snow pelt the church and gather beneath the hems of its white skirts. He turned around to see it out the back window.

  “What?” I said.

  He looked at me.

  “Just thinking about what it would have been like,” he said.

  I looked behind us at the church.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he said. Then back to Octavian Nothing.

  IT WAS STILL snowing and blowing when we went out to milk that afternoon, so Joseph rubbed Rosie’s rump for a while to calm her down—plus she kind of expected it now—and she mooed to tell Joseph she loved him and then he got down to the milking. I did Dahlia. Most of the time Joseph milked with his eyes closed and the side of his face against Rosie, like she was a pillow. But today, he looked at me.