to make me care a little about Eli’s brother. “What kind of job did he have again?”
Their dad had been a professor who made a lot of money in the stock market. Hugo had inherited that talent. He’d considered business school; Eli thought that had been his last good chance. But he’d only worked in menial positions in financial services. “His new doctor says that he’s on way too high a dose of this drug. I guess it’s very addictive.” She put the top down on her computer. “You want tea?”
I did want tea. She made tea then that tasted like a bowl of spices. We brought our handleless mugs to the porch and sat looking out over the canyon. That was where my dad lived, in a multilevel house hidden by trees. We couldn’t see many stars. Most of them turned out to be airplanes.
The next time I asked about Eli, she said his brother was in the hospital for Dalmane withdrawal. Eli had moved into his apartment in New Jersey to help.
I don’t think I remembered to ask again.
I was a pretty selfish kid. But I didn’t love Eli yet.
----
* At least Surferdude should have red hair. He pretty much does .
21 • A Trip to the Other Economy
That fall, my class moved to the Upper Campus, and it was a city. Over the summer, kids had grown. All of a sudden, Hector and I were short. People sold great food from carts. But my mom refused to pay for hot lunches. My allowance covered one a week; the other days I had to bring food from home. She packed leftover pasta and farro salad and carrots and shit. And she’d gotten to my dad before I tried. Some Tuesday mornings he didn’t have food in the house and gave me a twenty, saying, “For just this once, Miles. It’s not going to be a habit!” Then we had to rush to Whole Foods, because the Boops, who were still in elementary, couldn’t add on lunches by the day.
The noodle soup cart and the burrito guy had the longest lines.
A Wednesday, after school, I saw Esmeralda eating the same kind of noodle soup at our kitchen table. I said, “I buy those for lunch.”
“How much?”
“Two fifty.”
She spurted giggles. “Near my place, I pay one dollar for ten pieces.”
I gave her my allowance and skipped my hot lunch that week. She’d buy soup and bring it when she came to clean the house again the next Wednesday.
I started selling soup from my locker. At first I waited until I saw people in line for the cart, then I told the ones at the back that I could give it to them for a buck twenty-five. Kids worried about finding hot water. It didn’t seem right to ask the cart vendors for their water if you didn’t buy their soup. But I figured we could get it in the chem lab.
In two weeks, I sold out and gave Esmeralda thirty dollars to buy more. Upper Campus bustled with opportunity. I asked Esmeralda about other deals. I started to watch what people bought. I threw out the organic Whole Foods crap my mom packed and boughta burrito and a soda every day. Money piled in. I bought Hector lunches, too. Esmeralda delivered eight bags of new soup and she still had cash left over. She was happy because I gave her a twenty, as a thank-you. She didn’t know how big my profits were.
“You are gaining weights,” she said.
I looked at her and thought, You should talk.
But I’d put on fifteen pounds by Thanksgiving. My legs felt packed into my jeans, and my stomach bulged out over the top.
I wanted to investigate other products. I asked if I could go home with Esmeralda one day; she seemed happy with the idea. But I couldn’t figure out how to explain to my mom.
Then my progress report arrived. Cottonwoods only gave letter grades starting in ninth grade, and they were going to be a problem: I got a C in math. My mother sat with her reading glasses on, scanning the paper report. She didn’t say anything. That was bad. She would definitely notice a C in math. She disappeared to her room to talk on the phone. It had to be either my dad or Eli. Or Sare.
“Miles?” she
Their dad had been a professor who made a lot of money in the stock market. Hugo had inherited that talent. He’d considered business school; Eli thought that had been his last good chance. But he’d only worked in menial positions in financial services. “His new doctor says that he’s on way too high a dose of this drug. I guess it’s very addictive.” She put the top down on her computer. “You want tea?”
I did want tea. She made tea then that tasted like a bowl of spices. We brought our handleless mugs to the porch and sat looking out over the canyon. That was where my dad lived, in a multilevel house hidden by trees. We couldn’t see many stars. Most of them turned out to be airplanes.
The next time I asked about Eli, she said his brother was in the hospital for Dalmane withdrawal. Eli had moved into his apartment in New Jersey to help.
I don’t think I remembered to ask again.
I was a pretty selfish kid. But I didn’t love Eli yet.
----
* At least Surferdude should have red hair. He pretty much does .
21 • A Trip to the Other Economy
That fall, my class moved to the Upper Campus, and it was a city. Over the summer, kids had grown. All of a sudden, Hector and I were short. People sold great food from carts. But my mom refused to pay for hot lunches. My allowance covered one a week; the other days I had to bring food from home. She packed leftover pasta and farro salad and carrots and shit. And she’d gotten to my dad before I tried. Some Tuesday mornings he didn’t have food in the house and gave me a twenty, saying, “For just this once, Miles. It’s not going to be a habit!” Then we had to rush to Whole Foods, because the Boops, who were still in elementary, couldn’t add on lunches by the day.
The noodle soup cart and the burrito guy had the longest lines.
A Wednesday, after school, I saw Esmeralda eating the same kind of noodle soup at our kitchen table. I said, “I buy those for lunch.”
“How much?”
“Two fifty.”
She spurted giggles. “Near my place, I pay one dollar for ten pieces.”
I gave her my allowance and skipped my hot lunch that week. She’d buy soup and bring it when she came to clean the house again the next Wednesday.
I started selling soup from my locker. At first I waited until I saw people in line for the cart, then I told the ones at the back that I could give it to them for a buck twenty-five. Kids worried about finding hot water. It didn’t seem right to ask the cart vendors for their water if you didn’t buy their soup. But I figured we could get it in the chem lab.
In two weeks, I sold out and gave Esmeralda thirty dollars to buy more. Upper Campus bustled with opportunity. I asked Esmeralda about other deals. I started to watch what people bought. I threw out the organic Whole Foods crap my mom packed and boughta burrito and a soda every day. Money piled in. I bought Hector lunches, too. Esmeralda delivered eight bags of new soup and she still had cash left over. She was happy because I gave her a twenty, as a thank-you. She didn’t know how big my profits were.
“You are gaining weights,” she said.
I looked at her and thought, You should talk.
But I’d put on fifteen pounds by Thanksgiving. My legs felt packed into my jeans, and my stomach bulged out over the top.
I wanted to investigate other products. I asked if I could go home with Esmeralda one day; she seemed happy with the idea. But I couldn’t figure out how to explain to my mom.
Then my progress report arrived. Cottonwoods only gave letter grades starting in ninth grade, and they were going to be a problem: I got a C in math. My mother sat with her reading glasses on, scanning the paper report. She didn’t say anything. That was bad. She would definitely notice a C in math. She disappeared to her room to talk on the phone. It had to be either my dad or Eli. Or Sare.
“Miles?” she
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