Chapter 22

Authors note:

Chapter 19 was unintentionally replaced by a duplicate chapter 20. That mistake was up for about a week, and has been fixed. If you missed out on Kim’s rodeo performance, you might want to go back and read Chapter 19. Sorry for the confusion.

Sunday afternoon, I picked Kim up and we drove to Mel’s house. We were in for a treat, Kim promised. Why did I think we weren’t? Bobby, Vince, and Lani were already there and had staked out seats in their rec room. The Middleton’s had one of the largest TVs I’d ever seen. They had pedestal speakers on either side of it and a stereo rack on the adjacent wall.

“You’ll need these,” Mel said, handing us cardboard glasses as we sat together in an overstuffed loveseat.

“3D,” I said, catching on quickly.

“Our first feature,” Mel said, trying to sound like a TV announcer, “Is The Bubble, previously released in 1966 as Fantastic Invasion of Planet Earth. Directed by Arch Oboler and featuring Michael Cole, and everyone’s favorite, Deborah Walley, I present to you, The Bubble.”

“Whoo-boy. I’ve never heard of any of those people,” I whispered.

“Shh. The opening credits.” Kim had obviously been entertained at the Middleton house before.

It was so bad it was good. We laughed and pointed out mistakes all the way through. “You’re taking all of this too seriously. After all, what is childbirth? Just a sexy bellyache.” How could you not laugh at dialog like that?

Mrs. Middleton kept us supplied with bowls of popcorn and these crazy ice cream soda contraptions. We each had a bottle of our favorite soda. We picked our flavor of ice cream, and a couple of scoops of that went into a plastic ball that fit on top of the bottle. Mel said they were Fizz-Niks. When you drank your soda, it washed over the ice cream. It was actually pretty good but none of us had ever seen them before. Fifties Americana, we were told.

By the time the movie was over, we were all hurting from laughing so hard. We took a bathroom break and stretched our legs. Mrs. Middleton had ordered pizza and we filled our plates and went back to Mel’s theater.

“And now, starring Bela Lugosi, who tragically died during filming, and Tor Johnson, and directed by the inimitable Ed Wood, we proudly present, the 1957 classic, Plan 9 from Outer Space, initially titled Grave Robbers from Outer Space.” She pushed the button and I ate my pizza, now knowing that the opening credits were important and shouldn’t be interrupted.

Space aliens had decided to save Earth from destruction. To pull off this amazing feat, they resurrected the dead and the rest of the plot is pretty much incomprehensible. Vince recognized the actress who played Vampira and she was probably the best thing about the movie. It was bad. It was really bad. We started adding dialog and it started to get funny. Vince was a master of ad-libbing silly dialog and Mel matched him line for line. By the end of the movie, we were all sore from laughing again, and my eyes were soaked from tears.

“Got any more of those?” Bobby asked with a perfect deadpan.

She laughed and shoved him, “You’re a big poopoo head.”

“Yeah,” we echoed. “Poopoo head.” I don’t think Bobby had laughed once during either movie. I also thought he’d enjoyed it thoroughly. Not the movies, but us laughing at his girlfriend’s weird sense of entertainment.

Vince was done for the semester and had moved home. The rest of us had finals coming up. We talked about them for about five minutes. We wanted to be done. We hadn’t talked about it but I figured Lani had a speech to write. Maybe not, but if she wasn’t the valedictorian, I didn’t know who it would be.

The last week of school was designed for us to take two final exams per day. Monday morning was English in Mrs. Middleton’s class. She gave us four essay questions. I thought they were pretty easy but I took my time and elaborated on my answers so she would know that I knew my stuff. We had a couple of hours and I couldn’t imagine anyone taking all of that. I turned my blue book in, then checked to make sure I didn’t have anything stuck between the pages of my textbook and stacked that.

I watched as she read my answers, writing in the margin, underlining a word here or there, then flipping back to the front. When she had finished half of them, she walked around the room, passing them out. She’d written both the grade for the final exam and the course, which was consistent. She was super organized. On the last page of the booklet she wrote, “You made a fine Benedick and an even better friend for Mel and Bobby. I trust I’ll see you again next year. If Mel ever invites you to watch Glen or Glenda, don’t do it. You’ve been warned.”

I had been warned. Next up was lunch, then a final in history. When the bell sounded, we started to leave. Kim and I went up to talk with Mrs. Middleton for a minute.

“Nice job, both of you,” she said.

“Thanks. I just wanted to say that I had a lot more fun in this class than I was expecting.”

“Good. As much fun as Plan 9 from Outer Space? What’s the most important thing you learned this year?”

I looked at Kim, then answered, “To thine own self be true.”

“He is without guile,” Kim said, we all laughed and went to lunch.

When we got to the group table, Mel was shaking her head, acting particularly upset. “What’s the matter, Mel?” Kim asked, sitting next to her, running her hand across her back.

“I got a ninety-nine in my own mom’s class. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

We laughed, and so did she. We talked about our answers for a while but class was over and we didn’t really have our hearts in it.

“How many bad movies do you have, anyway?” I asked.

“Bad? They are simply underappreciated.”

“Uh-huh. How many?”

“Let me think. I just got two new ones and I haven’t watched them yet so I’m not sure if they stay in my collection or not.”

“What two movies did you get, Mel?” Kim asked.

“They Saved Hitler’s Brain, and Monsters a Go-go.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re both going to be keepers,” I said. “They Saved Hitler’s Brain is a real movie?”

“Yeah. It’s directed by David Bradley so you know it’s good. He directed Dragstrip Riot.”

“Ah, yes. The ever-popular Dragstrip Riot. Mel, you leave me speechless.”

“Thanks. I think I have sixty-two, now. I’m not counting Maid in Sweden. It’s gone.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

“It was Christina Lindberg’s film debut. Also, her first nude scene. I’m pretty sure it would be Bobby’s new favorite movie,” she said, and we laughed.

“What would?” Bobby asked, sitting down.

“I’m pretty sure it’s a foreign language film, Bobby. Mel was being funny.”

“I traded it for Revenge of the Cheerleaders. It has to be good. David Hasselhoff plays the part of Boner.”

“No. You are making that up,” I said.

“Baby, Mel is very creative, but I don’t think she could have come up with that.”

“It was his screen debut. Can you imagine?”

“I don’t want to. Are you ready for your Civics final?”

“Yes. I don’t think it will be difficult. You had me ready for it since early in the year. Easy,” Kim said.

“Don’t expect easy from Miller,” Lori said. “Lani told me that his was the toughest final she had last year.”

It was quiet in Coach Miller’s history class. Everyone had heard his finals were tough. He passed out the little blue test booklets, then a sheet with the questions on it.

“Your job is simple. Convince me that you learned something. You have ninety minutes. Begin.” That was it.

We had seven questions to choose from but only needed to answer six questions. I thought that was an interesting approach. I read through all seven questions. It would be impossible to explain the ramifications and implications of the Louisiana Purchase on Manifest Destiny in only fifteen minutes so I skipped that one. Most of them were pretty straightforward but when I got to the question about Vietnam, I thought maybe I should tackle the Louisiana Purchase instead. I went where we never should have; Vietnam.

Halfway through answering the question, I realized that everything good about the Louisiana Purchase was a catalog of what was bad about Vietnam. I had ten minutes left so I compared the two issues and the impact they had on America. By doing that, I was really answering seven questions instead of six. It seemed like a decent strategy.

I was frequently the first one finished on a timed test but I took that one right to the limit. “Pencils down. That’s it. I’ll attempt to grade these before the end of the day. You can wait quietly here, or in Washington Hall. If you choose to wait there, please come back to check in before you leave.”

I knew what the conversation would be in the cafeteria. It was too late to do anything about it so I pulled out a paperback and settled in to read. I’d picked up a guidebook to Atlanta and started looking through it to get a better sense of the city. Most of the class went to the cafeteria.

Coach handed back two or three papers at a time. I’d finished last so I knew I’d get mine last. Like Mrs. Middleton, he was a fast grader. He’d finished grading and placed papers face down on empty desks, then sat across from me and handed me my test booklet.

“Very creative,” he said.

“I didn’t start out to be. The purchase was too complicated to do it justice so I skipped that one and then realized it sort of fit.”

“Your conclusions are sound. You came at it in a way I wouldn’t have expected. If the Louisiana Purchase helps you understand our involvement in Vietnam, you deserve more than just this grade,” he said pointing out mine. “Do you want to know why we really lost Vietnam? This is an opinion.”

“Definitely.”

“The book doesn’t say this but it’s what I think. LBJ asked McNamara what it would take to win the war. McNamara gave him an honest answer and the cost in dollars and manpower was doable, but high. LBJ thought it was too much and that if we fought to win the war, we wouldn’t be able to afford his Great Society programs. He was probably right. He thought that if we lost Vietnam, he’d lose the political capital necessary to advance The Great Society. I think LBJ decided to fight the war to not lose.”

“Like a prevent defense in football?”

“Exactly. You know how that usually works out in football, right? Anyway, it’s just my opinion. Nicely done,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder as he stood.

There aren’t too many things in life better than receiving a compliment from Coach Miller. There are a couple, but not many.

I met Kim outside her class and we walked to my car together. “I nailed it. I knew I would but it still feels good to do that.”

“And tomorrow?” I asked.

“Tomorrow is a different matter. Precalculus in the morning and Geology in the afternoon. I’m not worried about Geology. Actually, I feel pretty good about precalculus but...”

“Yes?”

“But I need to get a seventy-nine on the final to get an A for the class.”

“You should be able to do that without any trouble.”

“Right. I should. But until I do ... it just bothers me. What do you need to get in that class, anyway? If all I need is a seventy-nine...”

“Sixty-five for an A. Seventy for an A+.”

“Math is just easy for you, isn’t it? Do you even have a difficult class? I know, spelling in the third grade or something. What’s been your toughest class?”

“Spanish, last year. It was tough.”

“You got an A, and now you’re pretty close to fluent, right?”

“It was still tough. Do you want to study math together or what?”

“No. I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. You’ve helped a lot. You really have. I don’t even know what I want to do.”

“Want to go to Mel’s house and help her watch David Hasselhoff in his screen debut?”

“The Revenge of the Cheerleaders? No. I think I’ve had enough Z movies for this year. Oh, my gosh. She is such a weirdo.”

Back at my house, I went in to grab Mom for a long overdue workout. It had been a while and we’d learned the hard way to ease back into it. After a warm-up, we decided to hit the big five, doing two sets of each. It only took us forty minutes. We had energy left so we did some box jumps. Mom tried those for the first time and we were treated to her full range of complaints, mostly having to do with age and knees.

We were about to go inside when a lady, probably a bit younger than Mom walked up the driveway. She was thin with short blond hair. Wearing a pair of coveralls with a half dozen colors of dried paint spattered on them and a face that said she was tired, she approached, but stopped short of the gym. I recognized her but couldn’t put my finger on how I knew her or why. “Hi. I don’t know if you remember me,” she said when we stopped to face her. “I’m Sandy Waterman. My grandmother was Victoria Diedrich.”

“Of course. You delivered a wonderful note for Jack,” Mom said. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. I miss her every day. Listen, this may sound strange, but ... Mee-maw had a lot of church friends but you’re the person she talked about,” she said, facing me. “She said you had done some work for Habitat for Humanity and stuff like that.”

“That’s right. Is everything okay?” She talked about me? That was good, I think, but she’s the one that told me about Chester. She’s the one who helped me understand what love and devotion meant. Why would she have talked about me?

“Yes, and no. Paw-paw took care of that house as best as he knew how, but his vision wasn’t that good and, well, it needs a lot of work. It needs a lot of work and I don’t know where to start. I thought maybe you’d be interested. That probably sounds silly. You have better things to do. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said and turned to leave.

“Wait a minute. What kind of things? School is out on Friday and I haven’t really planned my summer yet. Are we talking about an afternoon’s worth of work, or a week, or more?” I asked.

“Oh, Lord, I have no idea. I don’t think a team of people could get it done in a week.”

“Why don’t you go and take a look, Buddy? See if it’s something you can do or not. If it’s not, maybe you can help her find someone who can.” I looked at Kim and she nodded in agreement.

“I’m not an expert in any of that stuff,” I warned. Sandy looked at me as though I might be the solution to the whole thing. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”

Mom and Kim went inside and I followed Sandy a couple of doors down to Mrs. Diedrich’s home. Mrs. Diedrich was gone and it was her granddaughter’s house now, but to me, it would always be Mrs. Diedrich’s home. We started in the kitchen, where Sandy had a legal pad with lots of notes.

“I don’t know where to start,” she said.

I thought about it for a minute. “You’re living here, right? Why not start with whatever bugs you the most? Is there anything you can think of that’s a safety issue?”

We went through her list together and as we did, I told her whether or not I thought I could do it. As we walked through the house, taking notes, we talked about her grandparents. I’d never met her grandfather. I’d just heard about him from Mrs. Diedrich. It was pretty obvious that she loved him, too. It took us over an hour but by the time we finished, I had a pretty good idea what needed to be done and in what order I’d need to do it.

“I’m actually kind of surprised but think I can do most of what needs to be done. It seems like almost half of it amounts to tightening things that have worked loose and that’s pretty easy. You have a couple of loose electrical connections. I have a tester and I think I can take care of those, too. I can patch and paint, but I’ve never done drywall, and I think you’ve got two spots where you’ll need a pro. Maybe my brother could help, but I don’t want to screw it up worse than it is.

“You’ve got two rooms that need painting. I think we should save those until last. That way you can work on weeding out some of the stuff you want to get rid of before we have to move furniture and stuff. If you were going to replace the carpet in those rooms, I think that would be the time to do it.”

“You think you could do most of it, though?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

“I think so. I can’t do the drywall or carpet, and if I get to something I’m not sure about, I won’t screw it up by trying.” She asked how much I’d charge. I told her how much I’d made the previous summer doing landscaping. This would mostly be indoors and a lot easier work but she said she’d pay what Hector had. We talked about a schedule and she was pretty flexible, as long as I’d tighten the dishwasher to keep it from making a terrible noise.

I was about to leave when she grabbed a knick-knack from the den. “This is going to seem silly. Mee-maw said your nickname was Aquaman. Whenever she talked with me about her time with you, she picked up this silly thing and turned it over and over. I bet she’d want you to have it,” she said, handing me a little snow globe. “The last vacation they went on together included a trip to SeaWorld. It’s a couple of sharks.”

“Sharks in a snow globe is pretty silly, but it’s also pretty cool. Thanks. Kim will get a kick out of it,” I said, turning it over, then right side up to watch snow fall on sharks. “I’ll come back after dinner and see if I can’t take care of the dishwasher. I’ll talk to Kim and see what she has scheduled for the weekend.”

“Perfect. I’ve got a spare key around here somewhere. Just let me know how you want to do it.”

I thanked her for the globe, and walked home, turning the snow globe over again. I was fascinated that someone thought sharks getting snowed on was the perfect souvenir from a trip to SeaWorld. I could smell curry something or other as I walked inside. I showed Mom and Kim my new snow globe. Mom just looked at it, speechless.

“It’s perfect, Aquaman. That’s just the right amount of snow for you, and sharks just make it super cool. What kind of sharks are those?” she asked, staring at it.

“Nix turpis,” I said. I have no idea how I remembered the Latin.

Kim thought about it for a moment, but Mom got it first. “Snow sharks? Is there such a thing?”

“Sure. See?”

“You’re a dufus. Can you do what she needs done?”

“Most of it.”

“Here’s a better question, do you want to?” Mom asked.

“Yes, ma’am. Actually, I do. It was Mrs. Diedrich’s house. So, yes, I guess I do.”

“Kind of like honoring her Mee-maw’s memory. How much time do you think it will take?” Kim asked.

“I think with this kind of stuff it’s going to be tough to tell. Their house is the same age as ours, I think, but I don’t think it’s been renovated, at least not as recently. There are a couple of fancy baseboards that need to be repaired or replaced. I don’t even know where they would sell those. I’d have to try to locate the same kind, then cut it, paint it, and install it. If I couldn’t find the same kind, she’d have to decide if she wanted me to try to repair those, or pull all of the baseboards out of the room and install new stuff. If I can patch, or glue the old and touch up the paint, it might take an hour.”

“But if you have to search for the same, come up empty, then have to replace it all, it could take a couple of days,” Mom said.

“Exactly. I think, working eight hours a day, it would all take between two weeks and a month.”

“So, figure two months,” Mom said, and she was probably right.

“But there’s a lot of it that’s pretty low priority, and she’s really flexible. She said the dishwasher is driving her nuts.”

“Wash up, sit down and eat, then go fix it.”

That’s what I did. Mom’s curry shrimp was amazing, as always, and I probably ate too much, but I have an excuse. It was really good. Kim went home to study and I grabbed the toolbox from the garage and walked down the street.

I sat down in front of the dishwasher, while Sandy turned it on. It jiggled. I could see that a screw had come loose and nothing was holding it tight to the counter. I had some woodscrews in my toolkit and pulled a couple out. The previous screw had worked itself free and enlarged the hole. I used a larger screw and drove it home, making sure not to over-tighten it and make the same mistake. I tested it and it seemed good. Sandy flicked it back on. Problem solved.

“Miss Sandy, if all of the issues are as easy as that, I should be done in about a day.”

“Ha. Fat chance. Is that all it needs? It doesn’t seem like much.”

“The dishwasher is pretty stable without the screw. This is just to keep it from wobbling or shaking. I think that’s all it needs. If it doesn’t hold, I guess you’ll know soon enough.”

“Thank you so much. I just know you’ll be able to take care of all this stuff.”

“Some. Maybe, even most. If I can’t, I won’t make it worse. How’s that? Work on your priorities and I’ll get to them as quickly as I can.”

The rest of her stuff wasn’t going to be that easy, that was for sure. Knocking out her biggest irritant that easily was definitely a good start, though. Back home, I thought about looking over my precalculus one more time but decided not to. If I didn’t know it by then, I was never going to know it.

I met Marty at school early the next morning. I set my bag down by the side of the pool, pulled off my sweats, and dove in. A couple of minutes later, Marty came out of the locker room wearing shorts that looked more like biking shorts. “What’s the deal?” I asked.

“They’re Lycra. It’s sort of new, I guess. I can wear these for the whole race and not have to change. I want to try them in the pool, first.”

“Is it going to make that much of a difference? You’re going to change shoes, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve got that down to a science though. If these work okay for swimming, then they should be good for the rest.”

“I guess.” I was unconvinced but if it made him happy, I was all for it. He wanted to race me for a half mile. We both knew what the outcome was going to be. I guess he just wanted to get a sense of it. He swam a lap to warm up and was ready to go.

“You sure?” I asked.

“Yup. Swim your best half mile and so will I.”

We watched the second hand come to the top of the large, pool-side clock and started. I quickly settled into a pretty fast pace. The half mile isn’t a normal competition distance but I guess it wasn’t that unusual in shorter triathlons. I cruised to a finish in just under eight minutes, then climbed out and took a seat on a starting block.

“Hardly seems fair,” Coach Miller said as he sat next to me. I turned to smile at him.

“It was his idea.”

Coach rubbed his eyes and shook his head. It looked like he was going to say something a couple of times but stopped himself. He waited while Marty finished his half mile. He checked the clock and looked at the two of us, trying not to laugh.

“What?”

“Why, nothing Mr. Smoak. Nothing at all.”

“I wanted to get a sense of it. How long did it take you?” he asked.

“Just under eight minutes.”

“Well, crap.”

“I’m certain the bike ride will be the great equalizer, Mr. Smoak. You should hope so,” Coach said and walked back into the locker room.

“That’s as fast as I can go. Fourteen stinking minutes. You could have had breakfast while you were waiting. Poop.”

“Let’s go, Lycra man,” I said and held a hand out to help him out of the pool. “You didn’t think you were going to beat me, did you?”

“I kind of thought it might be a little closer.”

I thought he’d made a lot of progress and told him so. I thought fourteen minutes was a pretty respectable time for a recreational swimmer or a triathlete. I didn’t really know. It very definitely would be embarrassing in a straight-up swim competition. I figured my run would be about the same. I’d ride another long bike ride to see if I could improve but I wasn’t keen about having a sore butt for a day or two afterwards.

I met Kim outside math class. “Ready?”

“If I can keep my triple-angle identities straight, I’ll be fine.”

I gave her a couple of simple memory joggers she was happy with and we went in to give it our best shot. I thought the test was pretty easy and I finished with plenty of time to spare. I turned in my test. Mrs. Haggerty looked it over for about five minutes and gave it back with my grade for the test and the course. I’d maxed out my points. If I wasn’t ready for calculus the next year, I didn’t know what it would take.

I left early and went to the cafeteria to wait for Kim. Thirty minutes later, she walked in with an enormous, deep-dimple smile on her face. “Aced it, didn’t you?” I asked.

“Aw, shucks,” she said, toeing the ground in pretend humility. I hugged her for a moment and when we separated, she said, “That class, that class just about killed me. I got an A but that was the toughest A I’ve ever gotten. Man, that was a pain.”

“Calculus next year?”

“No, Baby. I’m done with math. That’s all I need and I’m done.”

“Well, then you finished on a high note. That’s good, Baby. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. I feel pretty good about it. You’re done for the day, aren’t you? I drove. You should leave. Go do stuff.” I risked detention and gave her a kiss. Honestly, what were they going to do with two days of school remaining?

I walked down to Mrs. Nichols’ room. She was just wrapping up from the morning. “Hi. I just wanted to stop in and say, ‘thanks’. I really appreciated the opportunity.”

“You made the most of it. I know you plan to go to Georgia Tech, and it just breaks my heart.”

“We looked at the Alabama campus in the brochures and it looks amazing.”

“It is. Good people, too.”

“If it was closer. Honestly, we both loved the presentation and the campus looks incredible but it’s twice as far away as Georgia Tech.”

“You can’t blame me for trying.”

“No, ma’am. Well, thanks for everything, and Roll Tide.”

She smiled when I said that and answered back, “Roll Tide.” I thought that might have been almost as good as telling her I was going there. Talk about school loyalty.

I could have started work at Mrs. Diedrich’s house but I didn’t have a key yet. Besides, I wasn’t really in the mood. I drove to the used bookstore on Savannah Highway and browsed the racks. I picked up a couple of Louis L’Amour novels, Ray Bradbury’s The Illustrated Man, and then found a bunch of Sci-Fi novels I hadn’t read before. I walked out with Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula Le Guin, Ice by Anna Kavan, and The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Heinlein. I hadn’t read any of them and when I walked out, I felt like I’d just successfully robbed a bank.

Used bookstores are the best stores in the world.

I went through the Burger King drive-thru and then to The Cut. I took my bag of books and bag of food to my favorite picnic table. Which first? Food for the stomach, then food for the mind. I made quick work of a double beef Whopper and fries. I closed my eyes and reached into the bag of books. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. Before I finished the first page, the protagonist was debating whether computers could be self-aware or not. This was going to be good.

I guess I’d gotten pretty wrapped up in the story when Kim sat down next to me. “Hey.”

“Good book?”

“Yeah. Can’t believe I’ve never read it. It’s really good.”

“What else do you have in here?” she asked, reaching into my bag. “How the West was Won, Shalako, and Kiowa Trail by L’Amour. Not bad. What else? Ooh, The Illustrated Man. This is really good. You’ll like it. Miss me?”

“Um.”

“I’m kidding, silly. You have a book. You’re on the moon, right?”

“How’d you do?”

“I’m batting a thousand so far. Emory demands it, right?”

“I didn’t realize Emory was so tough to get in to.”

“Relax, Aquaman. We’ll both get into CofC and then we’ll move on to Atlanta. Piece of cake.”

“Really?”

“No. This has been tough. Civics was a lot easier than precalculus, though. I’m ready for Chemistry, and Spanish will be easy. I hope I get a good grade in PE.”

“Okay, that’s pretty funny. How could we not get good grades in PE?”

“I’m kidding. After the year you’ve had, if you didn’t get an A+ in PE no one would ever go out for a team ever again. Same for me, I’d hope. Do you want to keep reading?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I did, but I didn’t think that’s what Kim would want to hear.

“I’m going to read Kiowa Trail while you’re making up your mind,” she said, settling in and opening to page one.

We both read until just before dinner time. Kim was picking up Chinese for her family. We both needed to look over our Chemistry before our last final the next day.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Mom hollered as I stepped through the front door. Oops. I hadn’t called.

“Sorry,” I answered, walking into the kitchen. “I only had one final so I hit the used bookstore, then went to The Cut to read. There’s a phone right there and I should have called.”