Post from
March 31st:
I took Mr. H’s
advice, but in a different way. I actually
did what I wanted to do this Spring Break.
This really caught Adam off-guard.
He’s used to me just going along with his stupid ideas and I actually
told him no. It was kind of fun to see
the look on his face and he just said, “Okay.”
Sweet.
I think I let this newfound power go
a little to my head though. I got into
an argument with my mom yesterday.
She was having Jay and Christa over
for Easter dinner. That wasn’t going to
be until about 5pm, so I was still planning on going to visit Mr. H. My mom refused to let me go because schoolwork
was not for holidays and I was needed at the house to peel eggs. When I told her I wanted to go, she laughed.
She actually had the fucking nerve
to laugh at me.
“No you don’t, Ethan, don’t be
silly. You’re not going and this
discussion is over.”
I realize now I should not have
exploded like that. I just got so angry
that I couldn’t take it anymore. I
thought of all the crap I’ve had to put up with from her and snapped.
“You ALWAYS think everything I do is
stupid, that I can’t think for myself!
My opinions don’t matter and you only care how your kids make YOU look! I don’t need you to treat me like a baby all
the time! I’m going to see Mr. H.
because it’s MY decision. I’ll be back
before dinner.” And I left.
I rode my bike so fast smoke was
almost coming off of the gears. With all
that built-up energy I got to Shady Pines quicker than I ever did in the
car. I walked down the hallway and saw
Christa standing there, biting her nails.
Did Mom call her?
Christa saw me and said that she
tried calling my phone. “Mr. H. isn’t
feeling well,” she said. “You should go
home and I’ll meet you there.”
She looked really sketchy. I asked her what was wrong. She sighed.
“It’s Easter,” she said. “All the residents’ families are here for
brunch, except for Mr. H.” I asked where
they were and she shook her head. “I
don’t know. He’s been here three years
and they’ve never visited, ever. Most
times he’s okay. He just stares out of the window at the parking lot, like he’s
waiting for them to come, but they never do.
It’s terrible.”
Wow.
I couldn’t imagine. I asked
Christa why I couldn’t go see him and she looked hesitant.
“He doesn’t want to have anything to
do with anyone. He won’t even touch his
iPad. You can go in, but don’t expect
much.”
I nodded and Christa opened the
door. Mr. H’s hands were at his side,
face turned completely towards the sunny window. Christa gave me a pat on the shoulder and
closed the door. I cleared my throat.
“Happy Easter, Mr. H,” I said. He didn’t look up. I stood there awkwardly for a moment before
sitting down. “I know we haven’t read in
a while, but we can pick up where we left off.”
I opened my old Harry Potter book and my phone beeped.
I looked up and Mr. H. was staring
at me again. I didn’t realize that my
hair was stuck to my forehead and my shirt was drenched. I really peddled hard.
“I rode my bike here,” I
answered. His eyebrows raised in
surprise. “My mom and I kind of had a fight.” He waited for me to go on, so I did. At the end of my rant I said, “I’m just sick
of her always acting like I don’t matter.
I finally took a stand, and I’m proud of that. I mean, that’s a good thing, right?”
Mr. H. hesitated before nodding
slowly. He typed on his iPad.
I felt a sinking feeling in the pit
of my stomach.
BEEP!
I sat there staring at the text,
thinking. I knew he was right. Mr. H. was staring out the window again. I debated with myself for a minute and
decided to do it anyway. “Mr. H?” I
asked hesitantly. “What happened to your
family?” He stared at his lap for a long
while. I added, “Please.” He finally
began to text like he’s never done before.
Words poured out of his fingertips at lightning speed and I struggled to
keep up with reading them.
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
BEEP!
It was a long time before I could
look at Mr. H. My chest felt heavy. When I finally looked up, he was staring out
the window again, but this time his eyes were wet. I sat there for a while until the hour was
up. I didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t anything I could say. So I just patted his arm and left.
Christa drove me home. I didn’t tell her about what Mr. H. said, and
she didn’t ask. When we got back to the
house, my mom mumbled an apology and I let it go. I sat down and peeled the eggs.
This
morning I went to Mrs. Felton’s class.
She said that since no one but me had more than two volunteer hours that
we aren’t required to do any more. The
project is over.
