Second Down
Copyright© 2025 by Lumpy
Chapter 22
The little bell over the pharmacy door clinked as I pushed it open. After Dad went to work, Mom never came out of her room. I thought she was working, until I heard a noise from the back of the house and went to investigate.
She was lying there, listless, in the dark. Apparently, she called in sick to work again. The stuff I’d found for her last week had seemed to help, and she hadn’t had another attack except for a small one the day after I’d found her home on the couch. I’d actually thought maybe we’d found the solution, but apparently not.
So I was back at the pharmacy, hoping to find something else. I’d already gotten the extra strength pill with what looked like the highest dosage on the side of the bottle last time, but that only worked for like a week.
“Back again, Blake? How’s your mother doing?” Mr. Sullivan, the pharmacist, asked from behind the counter.
“Not great. The last ones didn’t help much. She’s taking more and more of them, but they’re barely touching the pain anymore.”
“Did she go to see Dr. Taylor like I suggested?”
“I think so, but I don’t think anything was prescribed.”
I actually knew she hadn’t. I’d heard her and Dad arguing about it a few weeks ago, and she’d blown me off last week when I’d suggested it.
Mr. Sullivan pursed his lips, considering. “There’s a newer medication we just got in. It’s not much different than the medication you got before, but it’s supposed to be formulated for migraines, so it’s worth trying. But Blake, she really needs to see a specialist. These headaches aren’t normal.”
“I know,” I said, like she’d listen to me at all.
“Just...”
Whatever he was going to say was cut off when the front door burst open with such force the bell nearly flew off the wall. A small Chinese woman stormed in, her shoes making a flapping sound like they were flip-flops as they tried to keep up with her stomping. Her black hair was pulled back in a severe bun, and she looked familiar. It took me a moment to realize she looked like what I imagined Li might look like when she got older.
Well, if she got older and shrunk by more than a foot.
She made a beeline for the counter, stopping right in front of me.
“Are you the boy who talked to my daughter?” she said, poking a finger at my chest. “Li is a good student. She does not have time to waste playing games. You need to stay away from my daughter!”
I took an instinctive step back, caught off guard by her intensity. Mr. Sullivan had paused mid-reach for the medication he’d been talking about from a shelf behind him and was just staring at us.
I also knew her last name wasn’t Zhu, like Li’s. She’d explained the other day that married couples didn’t take each other’s last names, and kids usually had the last name of the father while the mother kept her maiden name. It seemed strange to me, having an immediate family with different last names, but who was I to knock how other people lived?
“Mrs. Sun, I wasn’t trying to...”
“No! I know boys like you. You all think because I have a tall, pretty daughter that she needs a boyfriend. That she needs sports. What she needs is to study!”
“That’s not what I...”
“You know what happens to girls who play sports? They spend all their time practicing or dating boys who play other sports, and their grades start to slip. Because they’re good at sports, teachers think it’s fine to have students who get Bs or Cs. You know what those girls don’t do? They don’t go to Harvard!”
“Mrs. Sun, Li’s really talented. She told me about playing in Houston, how happy it made her. With her height and skill...”
“The only skill that matters is the one that will get her into a good college and give her a good job.”
“But she’s lonely. Until recently, she would spend all her time sitting by herself, not really talking to anyone.”
“Good! Less time talking means more time studying. You think friends will help her get into medical school? You think running around in a sweaty gym will help her become a doctor?”
“No, but...”
“No ‘buts!’ You leave Li alone. She’s to study, get good grades, and go to Harvard. She’ll become a doctor like her father. I don’t want boys filling her head with silly ideas about sports.”
It was hard to really get a grip on the conversation. Li’s mom was like a tornado, hitting me from every side. It did put a lot of why Li was the way she was in perspective, though. I’d only had to deal with this for sixty seconds, and it was already too much for me.
I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live with this.
But ... it wasn’t any secret what her mother actually wanted. That was one benefit of her approach. It was very clear what her goal was. It was even a good goal, although I worried how that would leave Li once she got out into the world, out from under her mother’s roof.
“Mrs. Sun, please. I understand you want what’s best for Li. But basketball scholarships can actually help with college applications. Schools like Harvard look for well-rounded students, and they’re not great on admissions even if you have perfect grades. No matter what a school’s policy is, though, they will put that aside for a good athlete.”
“You think I don’t know about American colleges? I’ve researched every top school.”
“I have no doubt. Then you know sports can open doors. Li is really tall for a girl and if she’s even half as good as she said she was, she’ll be able to open a lot of doors that might otherwise be closed to her. Give her not only a real chance at a good school, but options for several.”
“And what do you know about it?”
“I don’t know if she told you, but I play football, and I want to go to a good school, so I’ve spent a lot of time looking at sports scholarships. I know Li’s unhappy and lonely, which could hurt her grades, too, since it would make her unfocused.”
She didn’t say anything for a minute, just glared at me with such intensity I thought maybe she was going to hit me in the stomach or something for daring to talk to her daughter.
Instead, she said, “You will come to dinner, tonight. Seven o’clock sharp. We will discuss this properly then.”
With that, she turned around and headed for the door at the same speed she’d come in.
“I ... what?”
“Seven o’clock. Don’t be late. And bring information about these scholarship programs!”
The bell jangled violently as she yanked the door open and stomped out and down the street. To say I was shaken by the whole encounter was an understatement.
Mr. Sullivan, apparently, found it amusing.
“She’s something, isn’t she,” he said, chuckling to himself as he handed me the medication and started to ring it up.
“No kidding,” I said as I paid for it.
I was honestly a little frightened that I might not make it out of this dinner alive.
Several hours later, I found myself in front of Downing’s Antiques, a building I’d seen in passing but had never actually been this close to. There was a closed sign in the window, and part of me just wanted to turn around and walk away.
Except I’d already committed myself to do what I needed to do to make up for how Li’d been treated in the dream life and how she was being treated by Elijah and the rest now. So instead of running, I pressed the small buzzer by the door and waited, smoothing down the nicest shirt I owned.
I was so nervous, I felt like I was waiting for a first date. Or maybe an execution.
After about a minute, I saw Li through the window, weaving through the shelves of trinkets. Instead of unlocking the door and stepping back to let me in, however, she stepped through it, pulling the door shut behind her so we were both outside.
“I’m so sorry about my mother,” she said as soon as the door was shut behind her. “I swear I didn’t know she was going to...”
“It’s fine,” I said, cutting her off. “You told me what she was like, so I should have expected this. If I can help you get her to agree to let you play, it’s worth a try.”
“Thank you,” she said, squeezing my arm for a moment before opening the door again and ushering me into the shop.
After locking the door behind her, she led me through the shelves, which were filled with small and medium-sized things of all shapes and sizes, from pots and picture frames to trinkets. The other half of the shop was cluttered with chairs, tables, and furniture, and I didn’t even know what its purpose was.
The second floor was completely different from the shop below. It was just a modest apartment with a mix of simple self-assembly furniture and Chinese decorations.
The kitchen and dining area were both just at the top of the stairs, and Li’s mom was by the stove still working on the food when we got up there.
“Sit. You there. You there,” she said, turning around and pointing at places across from each other at the already set table.