Brendan Buckley's Sixth-Grade Experiment (14 page)

Mrs. Simmons swept her dress beneath her as she took her seat. She nodded toward someone behind me.

“Yes, Morgan?”

I craned my neck. Morgan looked nervous, but sort of angry, too.
Oh, no … She wouldn't, would she?

“It was Dwight David,” she said softly. She glanced at him, then back at the teacher. Dwight David slumped in his chair.

Mrs. Simmons's chest expanded as she drew in a breath. She exhaled through her nose. “Thank you, Morgan.”

Didn't Morgan know what this would do to her reputation? Probably not. She was new to the whole public school thing, after all. I felt sorry for her. But honestly, I was grateful, too. She had just saved all of our skins.

“Let's go, Dwight David.” Mrs. Simmons stood and walked Dwight David out the door. I don't think any of us dared to glance below her waistline.

Kids whispered and giggled around me. I looked back at Morgan, but she already had her nose in her book, no doubt reading about the rule of Caesar Augustus. When I looked at Khal, he glanced in Morgan's direction, shook his head, and gave a thumbs-down. I shrugged,
trying not to look too glad that I wasn't going to be in trouble with Dad. Even though I was. Superglad.

And I'm not exactly sure, but I think I felt happy that Morgan hadn't tried to protect that little goofball. Maybe she didn't like him after all.

Wednesday was our big meeting with the social worker—our “home study”—to make sure our house was clean and safe and that we'd make a good family for some child.

Mom and Dad had already been to the adoption agency's office for one interview, and Mom had had to go to the police department to get fingerprinted for an FBI check. The adoption agency had even run a background check on Dad—it didn't matter that he was a police detective. Gladys and I had wanted to get fingerprinted, too, just because it sounded cool, but Dad said that wouldn't be necessary.

When I got home from school, Gladys was already there. She had insisted on being a part of the in-home visit. “I want that social worker to know this child is going to have a strong, independent black woman as her
grandma.” Mom had expressed a lot of enthusiasm. Dad had just rolled his eyes and warned her to watch what she said.

“Hi, Gladys,” I said, dropping my backpack onto the love seat and plopping down beside it.

“Hello, grandson. How was school?” Gladys sat on the couch with her feet on the coffee table. She wore her fuzzy orange socks and sipped Mountain Dew through the straw in her metal stein. She said the metal kept it colder, which it probably did. I'd have to do an experiment on that sometime.

“Good. Where's Mom and Dad?” I pulled out my lunch leftovers and started munching on tortilla chips.

“Your mom's running around like a turkey with its head cut off, trying to make everything perfect.” Gladys pointed to some chip crumbs I'd dropped on the floor. “Better watch out. Last time I saw her, she had the vacuum. You might lose your fingers if you're not careful.”

Mom had already vacuumed the night before, every square inch of the house—even the curtains! And she'd asked me to dust, which is my usual chore, but this time I was supposed to dust everything and anything—even the houseplants! She'd promised me an extra five dollars of allowance if I did a really good job, but I would have done a really good job anyway. I didn't want anything, especially not some stupid old dust, to stand in the way of us getting a baby.

I was on my knees picking up crumbs when Mom rushed in. “Gladys, I hope you're prepared to be sonless, because I'm going to
kill
him!” Mom towered over me, choking a vacuum hose with her hand. Her chest and neck were red and the color was spreading quickly. The Momometer was registering a temperature of about semi-livid.

I checked the love seat for crumbs and stood. “Where is he?” I asked.

“I have no idea. I've texted him at least ten times and haven't gotten a response.”

I slipped into the kitchen and dumped the crumbs and my crumpled lunch bag into the trash.

Mom's phone chimed. She checked for the message. “He just left the courthouse. That's twenty minutes still—at
best
. Jeez-o-pete!” She yelled at the phone, as if Dad could hear her, “It's going to take you a long time to make up for this one, buster!”

The doorbell rang. The red drained from Mom's face. She stood there, pale and frozen, like an ice pop that's had all the juice sucked out of it.

Gladys sprang into action. She grabbed the vacuum from Mom's hand, shoved it in the closet, and patted Mom's cheeks. “Everything's going to be fine, Kate. Just leave it to me!” Gladys hopped down the stairs to the landing, where she yanked off her fuzzy socks and slipped on her black shoes. Gladys can move when she wants to.

Mom suddenly came to. She hurried down the stairs, getting there just as Gladys opened the door.

“Hello, Mary!” Mom said without a hint of the anger from the minute before. She smoothed her blouse. “Please, come in.”

Mary was an older white woman, tall and thin like Gladys, with poofy graying hair that curled away from her face and looked as if it was held in place with about a gallon of hair spray.

“This is my mother-in-law, Gladys Buckley.”

“How do you do?” Gladys said, taking the woman's coat and hanging it on the hooks behind her.

“Very well, thank you.” Mary looked to where I stood. “You must be Brendan,” she said, climbing the stairs.

“Yes, ma'am.” I shook her hand, firmly so she'd know I was confident enough to handle a new baby, but not so firmly that she'd think I was too rough for him or her.

“It's a pleasure finally to meet you.” Mary looked around. “What a lovely home.”

“Thank you,” Mom said, rushing to join us. “Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink—tea, cranberry juice?”

“Mountain Dew?” Gladys added, moving to the coffee table and raising her stein.

At least the social worker would know Gladys wasn't drinking
beer
through that straw. I grabbed my backpack from the love seat so Mary could sit.

Mary smiled. “I'm fine for now.” She glanced around and drew her briefcase onto her lap. “Is Sam here?”

Mom's face tensed. “Um … no. I'm really sorry. He got caught up in court.” Mom motioned me to the couch. “But he'll be here shortly,” she added quickly.

I set my pack inside the entryway to the kitchen and went and sat between Gladys and Mom, who perched stiffly with her hands clasped between her knees.

“No problem. Things happen.” Mary pulled out a clipboard. “We can start with the home inspection.” She made a note of something. Was she writing down that Dad was late? Mom's nervousness must have been catching, because I was starting to feel it, too.

Mary rose and went to the front window. She checked behind the curtains. “Good. Cords are safely stored away.” She looked down at the wall. “Covers on the outlets … You have these in every room, I take it.”

“Yes,” Mom said. Her leg had started to jiggle. She stood and followed Mary into the kitchen.

“All knives are being kept in secured cabinets?” Mary opened and shut a drawer.

“Absolutely,” Mom said. Dad had spent several hours the previous week installing specialized latches on practically every cabinet in our house. They could only be released with this one magnetic key. I had started off helping him, but after the second one he'd told me he'd better just do it himself. I heard him cursing the things from my room.

Later, he told Mom the instructions hadn't said anything about needing an engineering degree. Really, the latches didn't require intellect to install as much as patience, which Dad can be short on. He's plenty smart, even if he sometimes talks as if he's not.

We trailed along like tourists getting a tour of our own house. In the bathroom, Mary turned on the hot water in the tub. She flushed the toilet.

“If you're concerned about backups, there's no need to worry,” Gladys said. “I've seen that toilet handle some hefty loads.”

I laughed. Mom pinched her lips tightly and gave us both a good stare.

“What?” Gladys said with eyes wide. “It's a natural process. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Mary had produced a thermometer from somewhere and held it under the running bathwater. “Is your water heater set for under one-twenty?”

“Yes. One-oh-nine, I think. We try to conserve wherever we can,” Mom said, following Mary down the hall. “Not to the point of discomfort, of course. We'll spare no expense to make sure our children are healthy and well cared for.”

Mary turned and stopped abruptly, causing a collision between Mom, Gladys, and me. “Kate, please.” She rested her hand on Mom's arm. “
Relax
. This is all just a formality, really. Of course I know your home will be a wonderfully welcome place for another child.”

Mom laughed, still not her regular bird-on-a-spring-day laugh, but after that she seemed to calm down a little.

Mary poked her head into the first room on the left.

“That's the nursery … assuming our new child will be an infant.” Mom had spent hours cleaning out the boxes Grandpa Ed had brought over, full of Grandma DeBose's things that he thought Mom might like to have. All that was in there now were the white crib and dresser Mom had bought off Craigslist a couple of weeks ago, a framed bedtime prayer that Grandma DeBose had done in needlepoint, and the rocking chair she'd intended Mom to have when I was born. Mom had painted the walls a light green and put up a border covered with teddy bears and pink roses. Roses had been Grandma DeBose's favorite flower. The room actually looked pretty nice. But I hoped, for the baby's sake, she was a
she
and not a he.

“It's lovely,” Mary said.

“Thank you,” Mom said.

My room was next. Mom had done an army inspection that morning before I'd left for school. I showed Mary my rock and mineral collection, my mobile of the solar system, which I'd made myself, and my neatly folded purple belt. “A big brother who knows martial arts. That's a plus,” Mary said, making more notes.

Mom smiled and nodded at me from behind the woman.

I had saved Einstein for last. Fortunately, he was basking, so we could get a good view. “Does he ever come out of the tank?” Mary asked.

“Only when I clean it, which I have to do about once a month. I put him in this temporary holder for that.” I held up the small plastic case. I figured she didn't need to know I'd only done it once so far, or that anoles are known as master escape artists.

“Oh, I see.” Mary checked off something else on her list.

“Will having a lizard be a problem?” Mom sounded worried again.

“He's totally harmless,” I added.

“Unless you're a cricket or a mealworm,” Gladys said.

“He's parasite-free,” Mom said over Gladys's chuckling. “We had him checked by a vet when we bought him.”

“Lizards are fine, especially one so small.” Mary peered into the tank. She waggled her finger at Einstein as if he were the little baby. “And so cute.”

We made our way around Mom and Dad's bedroom, where Mary wanted to see the exact place Dad kept his handgun locked away and gave extensive warnings about how it could never, ever, for any reason, be left unlocked and unattended.

“Believe me, there is no
way
Sam would ever compromise his children's safety with that thing. If it weren't for his job, I wouldn't even allow it in our house.…”

Mom continued talking, but I was lost in thought
about something she had said.
His
children's
safety
. Dad and Mom were going to have more than just me soon. I knew it was something they really wanted, especially Mom, and I knew this new kid wouldn't replace me—Mom had told me so a dozen times, at least—but still, it gave me a strange feeling to know I wasn't going to be an only child anymore.

I'd been memorizing the periodic table of chemical elements, since elements are what make up minerals. Mom, Dad, and I had always been a family of three, like lithium (Li), number three on the periodic table. Three protons in an enclosed, complete atom. But after this baby came, we would be four. Beryllium. What would it be like to be Be?

Mom, Gladys, and Mary chatted as they left the room. I followed, quiet from all my thoughts. We were on the stairs to the basement when Dad rushed in.

I was between Mom and the front door. She turned and gave Dad a major stink-eye. She held it just long enough for Dad to know she was serious, but not so long that it got embarrassing. “Good timing, dear. We're almost through with the inspection, then Mary wants to speak with us in the living room. Meet us there?” She cocked her head and gave him a forced-looking smile.

“Sure. Great. My apologies, Mary.” Dad stepped past Mom and me and reached down the stairs to shake Mary's hand. “I had to testify today, and the hearing went long.”