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He pulled in a deep breath. “Three?” he asked as he always did.
“Three,” I confirmed.
“I passed my history test.”
“Good! What did you get?”
He slanted me a sneaky glance. “I passed and I don’t have a note to be signed.”
I chuckled. “Fair enough. Next?”
“The cafeteria had the giant chocolate chip cookies today.”
“Mm-hmm.” We turned onto the main road.
Twisted metal and screams, a bloody gash on George’s head, his eyes vacant.
The sun sparkled off the windshield. George cranked his window down and stuck his hand out the window to feel the rush of the wind on his palm. We passed the turn-off to Spuds and my place, and then pulled off the main road towards the elementary school.
“I don’t have any homework for the weekend. My one teacher, he’s different. Gives homework every day but says we don’t have to meet the due date if he forgets to update the website.” He looked at me, his head cocked to the side. “He literally never remembers. Then, on the day when it’s due, he gives us the entire class time to complete it. If anyone has it done ahead of time, he opens up the recording room.”
“Recording room?”
“Yeah. It’s music class.”
“You like music class?”
“I don’t know. I like this teacher. I don’t care too much for my instrument.”
“What are you playing?”
He sighed. “What almost everyone is playing. The recorder.”
“There are no other musical instruments?”
“No. The teacher brings in his own to let us try them. He’s even leant them out a few times. There’s a drum set, but someone has already claimed that. A couple of ukuleles. Two guitars. One set of bongos. There’s not much.”
“What would you want to play, honey?”
He shook his head. “No, Minnie. Anyone who walks in there with a new instrument…” He petered off. “There are so many kids that have nothing. To walk in there with a brand-new instrument when most don’t have that option, most people don’t take it too well.”
“I understand.” I paused. “But would you want something to play at home?”
“Maybe,” he murmured. “Maybe guitar. Maybe bongos. Ukulele looks fun.”
“Acoustic or electric?”
He laughed, the sound joyous with disbelief. “Electric, of course.” He turned to look out the window and his voice softened. “My dad will buy me anything I want, Minnie. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I know, honey. You should ask him.” I pulled into the school parking lot and allowed George to pick our hiding spot.
He was right. Jace and Alex did not beat his time, which meant he got to choose where we went to eat.
As usual, and much to Jace and Alex’s temporary chagrin, he chose Spuds.
The place he was most comfortable.
I started the car and took a steadying breath. Elementary school dismissal was the absolute worst time of day to drive.
