T.J. Klune - Bear, Otter, and the Kid 1 - Bear, Otter, and the Kid (2 page)

“
T
HERE
he is!” Ty points out excitedly. I see Creed standing at the entrance to one of the terminals. He sees me coming, and Tys waving like mad, and he laughs. Most girls think Creed is “mad crazy hot” (his own words) and I guess, from a male perspective, hes okay-looking. Hes got short blond hair that kind of does whatever it wants, white even teeth, green eyes, and even Ill admit hes built like a truck. From the looks of it, he has put on more muscle than even the last time I saw him in March. And hes tall, which is the bane of my existence, being only 59” myself. And my hair is dark. And my eyes are brown. And Im pale. And I think for some reason that I still have one of my baby teeth because one tooth is a lot smaller than all the others. I tell Creed the only reason Im his friend is because he is a big, tan rich kid. He says the only reason hes
my
friend is because Im little, white, and I live in the ghetto with my baby teeth. We get along great.

He opens the door and thrusts his bags over the seats to the back, next to Ty. He gets in and grins over at me. He reaches over and puts one arm around my shoulder, pulling me into a hug, and I feel rain water roll onto my cheek. He pats my back with the requisite three-pat man-hug and pulls away. “Whats up, dude? Hows coastal life?”

He grins again and looks over his shoulder into the backseat and quickly rubs his hands over his head, spraying water all over me and Ty, who laughs out a mock protest. “Whats up, Kid? Bear treating you okay, or do I need to take him down a few pegs for you?”

Ty puts his hand to his chin in concentration and thinks for a moment. Then, “Maybe just one peg. He wouldnt let me get that new documentary about PETA from the video store.”

“That was a month ago!” I protest, knowing whats coming. Ty glares at me. “I remember things.”
Creed laughs. “One peg it is,” he says and punches me on the shoulder.

Yeah, hes definitely put on more muscle.
“Bastard,” I growl, rubbing my arm. “You should have seen this movie.
It was all about how to become an ecoterrorist and fight against the system.
If the Kid had gotten it, he probably would be blowing up some celebrity for
wearing fur right now.”
“Eh, what can you do?” Creed says. “At least it wasnt like last time
when he said three pegs for not getting him the right brand of soy milk.”
How could I forget? I had a bruise on my arm for a month.
Ty speaks for me. “He gets me the right kind now. And, Bear, I cant
believe you said it was about how to „fight against the system. I guess its
disheartening for any child to learn their big brother is still living in the
Reagan years.”
I dont even know what that means.
A
N HOUR
later, were still on the freeway, traffic having backed up, and its raining harder. Creeds been telling us whats been going on in Arizona, more for Tys benefit than mine as I speak to Creed a few times a week. Ty tells him about the new teacher he had at school who hes had to correct a few times when the teacher had been wrong in class, and about how I had to go in for a “Brother-Teacher” conference (he refuses to call it parentteacher). He makes a face as he tells Creed about how Mr. Epson had called Benjamin Franklin a fine president. Creed looks over at me quickly, and I nod, and Creed turns back in horror to Ty, asking how anyone could get that
mixed up.
“I know!” Ty mutters darkly. “There are apparently no standards to
teach the third grade. And we dont get out of school for another month.” Ten minutes later, Tys talked out and asleep, his head resting on
Creeds bags. Looking back over his shoulder to make sure the Kid is
actually asleep, Creed then turns to me and says quietly, “I thought
Benjamin Franklin
was
a president.”
“I thought he was too! I had to look it up later just to make sure.
Apparently he didnt do a lot of things I thought he did.”
“Hes on money though, right?” Creed asks.
“Yeah, he is. Howd he do that if he wasnt president?”
“He probably had a big dick.”
I grin. “Like the bigger it was, the higher the bill you would be on or
something?”
“Yeah. Poor George,” Creed says, laughing. “Of course, I would be on
the million-dollar bill.”
“They dont make a million-dollar bill.”
“Well, yeah. They havent seen how big my dick is.” We both laugh.
Then he quiets down and looks over at me. “Its good to see you, Bear.
Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
I shrug. “Sure. Its not every day you come back, so its no big deal.
How were finals?” I ask, trying to prolong the conversation from where itll
inevitably go.
He groans and covers his face. “A nightmare. I dont think theyre going
to let me go back next semester.”
“Liar.”
He grins. “Youre right. Bear, I could do this crap in my sleep. Im
getting so bored being in school. Im doing this stupid internship right now, and its literally the most idiotic thing Ive ever done. Apparently „intern means „glorified errand boy.” He shakes his head. “The recommendation will be good when I graduate, though. Speaking of, I know its a year away, but make sure you know you and the Kid need to be in Phoenix for
graduation.”
I nod. “Itll give me enough time to start saving up some money. We
should be able to swing it, at least for a couple of days.”
Goddamn it! Why’d
I have to—
“Bear, if youd just let me—” Creed begins, going into that same old
dance that Ive long memorized the steps to.
I cut him off. “Dont start that again. You know that if I needed help, Id
ask. Its not that Im so full of pride that I dont know to ask if I needed to.” He looks out the window. “I know that you would make sure Tys
covered but you wouldnt ask help for yourself.”
I dont respond because I know its true, and anything said to the
contrary would sound hollow to both of us.
Creed turns back to me. “Cmon, Bear. You know I worry about you
and the Kid. Its my right as your best friend and job as being Uncle Creed.” “I know,” I say irritably. “But we are actually doing okay right now. Im
almost all caught up with the bills. Were not behind on rent like we were
last year. The only things I am really worried about right now is what to do
about the Kids school next year and”—I look back to make sure Ty is still
asleep—“his birthday party.”
“Brother-Teacher Conference?”
“Brother-Teacher Conference. Apparently hes a „disruption in class,
but even the teacher and principal think its because he is too smart for the
material. They want to move him up to fifth grade next year, but I dont
know.”
Creed whistles. “Skipping a grade? How the hell did he get so smart?”
He grins and lightly punches me on the shoulder. “We know its nothing
you
did.”
I punch him back, careful not to swerve the car and end up in a ditch.
“Youre telling me? I know that already. I just wonder if he needs the
disruption
of skipping a grade. I dont know if that would be good for him
or not.” And I really believe that. I dont know if its a blessing or a curse
that Mom chose to leave me with the goddamn smartest kid on the planet.
“Whatever I decide, they want an answer two weeks before the new school
year begins, to fit him into a classroom.”
“And theyre not giving you any more shit over the power of attorney?”
he asks.
I shake my head. “Nah. Not as much as they did at first. But theyve
been dealing with me since Ty was in kindergarten. You know I was at these
meetings more than my mom ever was. The only thing that really changed is
that her say-so really wasnt needed anymore.” This had terrified me at first,
of course, on top of everything else—that I had the final say over anything
and everything Tyson. Even if Id been the one to attend these teacher
conferences and doctors appointments when our mom had still been
around, shed usually still signed off on everything. I remember being afraid
that everything I did was going to be wrong and that thered be no one there
to correct my mistakes. Looking back, I dont really know how we survived.
Sheer force of will, perhaps.
Creed looks back at Ty and then at me. “Dude, if youd have told me
three years ago that wed be having this conversation, I would have said you
were high.”
“I know. Its crazy, right?”
He laughs. “Full-on Papa-Bear mode.” He looks out the window as we
pull into the Seafare city limits. “Ah, home sweet home. Did you know
when I left Phoenix it was 113 degrees outside?”
I make a face. I dont understand how anyone can live in that kind of
weather. The Kid and I went to visit Creed over their holiday break a couple
of years ago. It was hot on Christmas Eve, and we went swimming at this
barbecue we went to. I swore I got skin cancer for the week we were there.
The Kid told me I was a drama queen. Arizona is weird. Give me the ocean
and cold anytime.
I turn down Seaway Avenue, which leads to the Pinecrest Coast side of
town, where Creeds house is at. And before this goes any further, let me
repeat something, just so were clear: Creeds family is rich, Im not. Thats
just the way it is. Im not some kind of wrong-side-of-the-tracks cliché that
needs to be saved from his life of poverty. Im not fighting those that
oppress me in some all-out movie-of-the-week kind of way. These are just
the facts of life, and it is what it is and blah, blah, blah. Im doing okay.
We’re
doing okay. Ive learned in my short time here on Earth that things
could
always
be worse.
Creed is saying something about some girl he boned or wants to bone or
got halfway to boning when we turn onto his street, and his words cut off. I
look over at him and see him staring at the window.
“What?”
“Whose car is in my driveway?”
I look further down the street and indeed see an older Jeep Cherokee
sitting in front of Creeds four-car garage. Its black and missing a hubcap
on one of the tires. I havent seen it before, and I dont think it belongs to his
parents. “Do you think we should stop?”
He laughs. “Where else we gonna go? If its someone breaking in, I
need to at least make sure theyre not taking any of
my
stuff.” We get closer
to the house, close enough to see no one in the Jeep and to see the front door
is closed and not in splinters like my overactive mind thought it would be.
“Park next to it,” he says, pointing to a spot in the driveway. “Ill go in. You
stay out here with the Kid and keep your window down, and Ill shout for
you if I need help.”
I roll my eyes. “Thats sounds like a great plan. Ill make sure to come
running. Together, well be able to take em down with all the weapons I
keep in my car. Way to think that one out.”
Creed doesnt say anything as he opens his door and gets out into the
rain. I see him look through the windows on the garage door, but he doesnt
see anything that would make him run back to the car. I reach for my cell
phone and dial 911 and hold my hand over the send button, just to be safe. I
look in the rearview mirror and see that Tys still sleeping on Creeds bags. Creed walks up to the front door and opens it with his keys and pushes it
open, calling out with deepened voice and a stuck-out chest, “Hello?” I snort
and accidentally dial 911. I look at my phone in horror and hang up, hoping
it didnt go through because those people can track you
anywhere
. I look
back up in time for Creed to buckle over, laughing.
“No way!” he yells into the house and turns back to walk out to the car
where I sit, still unsure if its a robber or if 911 is going to call me back. “Who is it?” I demand as he opens the door.
Creed grins at the Kid asleep on his bags and then looks back at me, his
eyes dancing. “Dude, its Otter. My big bro came home.”

Remember when I told you how Ty is the reason that my mom and everyone else in the world started calling me Bear? I guess it was some kind of cosmic revenge for what I did to Creeds big brother. When I first met Creed at the tender age of eight, I was infinitely shyer than I am now. Im okay now with meeting new people. Either that or I just ignore them. But back then, I was a nightmare when it came to strangers. I was over at Creeds house for the first time to play and spend the night. My mom had some new boyfriend that was taking up all of her time (oh, I know, poor me, right?) and the Kid was still a few years away. So when my mom found out I had made a new friend, I was instantly pawned off on this family who could have taken one look at me and closed the door. But they didnt, and after a while, it got to be where Creeds mom would recognize my voice when I called on the phone, and I would have dinner at their house more often than my own. Then Ty came and that got all curbed for a while so I could stay home and help my mom.

The first time I went over to Creeds house, I was a nervous wreck, and it all had to do with this unseen entity, this creature known as a
big brother
. Creed had told me before that he was sixteen and a jerk but that he would leave us alone if we left him alone. Naturally, that terrified the hell out of me. I imagined this great hulking teenager who would tear me apart if I even looked at him weird, and I suddenly didnt want to go. I begged my mom, but she told me that Bill or Frank or John or Bob or whatever other onesyllable name she was dating at the time was going to take her somewhere fancy and how she deserved it and didnt I think she deserved it? And of course not another word was spoken on the matter, and two hours later I found myself on the Thompsons front porch with a Transformers overnight bag that my mom had purchased at a garage sale for the occasion. I rang the doorbell, wondering how a rich persons doorbell would sound and was in the middle of being surprised that it sounded like ours when the door opened.

“Whore you?” the older boy said with a scowl, looking at me over his Gameboy. The first thing I thought was how impressed I was that he had a Gameboy. You remember those things with the foul green screen that reduced every game to Gerber Mashed Peas? I always wanted one, but my mom said it was better to have a roof over our head. I was never one to try and argue with that kind of logic.