shrugged. I shrugged back.
“She going?” Tommy asked from the bed.
I nodded.
He nodded.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked.
“I don’t care. Want to get room service?”
“You think that’s okay?”
“It’s your trip, you little skunk boy.”
“I’ve always wanted room service.”
“Your wish is my command, master.”
Tommy smiled. He was half asleep. We watched television.The sun went down and I got up and closed the drapes. He pulled the bedspread over his chest but left his legs out. His chin almost rested on his chest. Mom came back and forth, dressing. The last time she went through the room she smelled of perfume.
After Mom left, Tommy ordered a turkey club with curly fries and a diet soda. I ordered a Philly cheesesteak with sweet potato fries. We watched an old episode of
Friends
while we waited for the food to arrive. The waiter who brought the food up was gray and creaky on his feet and had a gut the size of a backpack gummed onto his waist. His name tag said
Wayne
. He set the food down on the bench at the foot of the bed, then he hung around a little until it occurred to me that I was supposed to tip him. Luckily, I had seen Mom stash the envelope Mr. Cotter had given her for incidentals. I fished out five dollars and handed them to Wayne.
“Thank you, miss,” he said.
“Thank you, Wayne,” I said as if I had a choice.
I showed him out. Tommy tried to get up to get his food but he had a little trouble swinging himself out, so I carried it over to him. I spread a towel over his legs and put his plates on his lap. He needed to wear his vest soon, I knew. I grabbed my own food and sat next to him. We didn’t talk much as we watched the cast of
Friends
actstupid. And when they did something that was supposed to be touching and the sound track made an
awwwwww
sound, I looked at Tommy and crossed my eyes. I snagged some of his curly fries.
“You feeling okay?” I asked him when we were about halfway through our sandwiches.
“Just tired,” he said.
“Try to eat. You had a long day.”
“I’m not that hungry,” he said.
I grabbed the remote control and turned the volume down. I put the back of my hand to his forehead, testing him for fever. His eyes looked glassy.
“We need to put you in the vest,” I said. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He shrugged.
“Come on,” I said. “Spill it.”
He started to cry a little. He never does that.
“You didn’t like today very much,” I said. “Is that it?”
He wiped the back of his hand against his eyes. I got up and lifted the plates from his lap. He looked beat suddenly, and more defeated than I had ever seen him.
“You can tell me,” I said. “Go ahead.”
“It’s nothing,” he said around his tears. “It’s just …”
“You’re disappointed.”
“I just thought it would be different. I thought I was going to dive in the cage. That’s what they said. Thatwas the whole point of coming out here. But it didn’t happen.”
“You saw a shark,” I said. “And blood.”
“Anyone could do that.”
“I’m sorry. I get what you’re saying.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know. But I understand what you mean. It was nearly what you wanted, but it wasn’t, and now you have to pretend that it was, right?”
He nodded.
“Remember the dress Mom bought me for the ninth-grade dance?” I asked. “I’d seen one that was exactly what I wanted, but then Mom went out and bought me something sort of like it and I had to pretend that it was perfect. Only it wasn’t. And I went to the dance and I didn’t feel pretty, and I hated the dress, hated everything about that night. So I don’t blame you.”
I put his vest on him and we sat for a long time watching television. By eight o’clock Tommy had fallen asleep with his arms out, the chest vibrations still jiggling his cheeks.
I waited up until midnight. Mom didn’t come back.
“Y ou think she stayed over with him?” Tommy asked.
It was
“She going?” Tommy asked from the bed.
I nodded.
He nodded.
“What do you want to eat?” he asked.
“I don’t care. Want to get room service?”
“You think that’s okay?”
“It’s your trip, you little skunk boy.”
“I’ve always wanted room service.”
“Your wish is my command, master.”
Tommy smiled. He was half asleep. We watched television.The sun went down and I got up and closed the drapes. He pulled the bedspread over his chest but left his legs out. His chin almost rested on his chest. Mom came back and forth, dressing. The last time she went through the room she smelled of perfume.
After Mom left, Tommy ordered a turkey club with curly fries and a diet soda. I ordered a Philly cheesesteak with sweet potato fries. We watched an old episode of
Friends
while we waited for the food to arrive. The waiter who brought the food up was gray and creaky on his feet and had a gut the size of a backpack gummed onto his waist. His name tag said
Wayne
. He set the food down on the bench at the foot of the bed, then he hung around a little until it occurred to me that I was supposed to tip him. Luckily, I had seen Mom stash the envelope Mr. Cotter had given her for incidentals. I fished out five dollars and handed them to Wayne.
“Thank you, miss,” he said.
“Thank you, Wayne,” I said as if I had a choice.
I showed him out. Tommy tried to get up to get his food but he had a little trouble swinging himself out, so I carried it over to him. I spread a towel over his legs and put his plates on his lap. He needed to wear his vest soon, I knew. I grabbed my own food and sat next to him. We didn’t talk much as we watched the cast of
Friends
actstupid. And when they did something that was supposed to be touching and the sound track made an
awwwwww
sound, I looked at Tommy and crossed my eyes. I snagged some of his curly fries.
“You feeling okay?” I asked him when we were about halfway through our sandwiches.
“Just tired,” he said.
“Try to eat. You had a long day.”
“I’m not that hungry,” he said.
I grabbed the remote control and turned the volume down. I put the back of my hand to his forehead, testing him for fever. His eyes looked glassy.
“We need to put you in the vest,” I said. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He shrugged.
“Come on,” I said. “Spill it.”
He started to cry a little. He never does that.
“You didn’t like today very much,” I said. “Is that it?”
He wiped the back of his hand against his eyes. I got up and lifted the plates from his lap. He looked beat suddenly, and more defeated than I had ever seen him.
“You can tell me,” I said. “Go ahead.”
“It’s nothing,” he said around his tears. “It’s just …”
“You’re disappointed.”
“I just thought it would be different. I thought I was going to dive in the cage. That’s what they said. Thatwas the whole point of coming out here. But it didn’t happen.”
“You saw a shark,” I said. “And blood.”
“Anyone could do that.”
“I’m sorry. I get what you’re saying.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know. But I understand what you mean. It was nearly what you wanted, but it wasn’t, and now you have to pretend that it was, right?”
He nodded.
“Remember the dress Mom bought me for the ninth-grade dance?” I asked. “I’d seen one that was exactly what I wanted, but then Mom went out and bought me something sort of like it and I had to pretend that it was perfect. Only it wasn’t. And I went to the dance and I didn’t feel pretty, and I hated the dress, hated everything about that night. So I don’t blame you.”
I put his vest on him and we sat for a long time watching television. By eight o’clock Tommy had fallen asleep with his arms out, the chest vibrations still jiggling his cheeks.
I waited up until midnight. Mom didn’t come back.
“Y ou think she stayed over with him?” Tommy asked.
It was
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