My weekend is uneventful other than the trip to Benjamin’s, and he’s back to school on Monday. We’re sitting, eating, doing what we often do at lunch, when he says, “Dad wants to know if you wanna come over for dinner tomorrow night.”
“Uh.” I say, swallowing a mouthful of cheeseburger (with cheese). “Okay.” I don’t really want to go but it seems rude to say no. “What’s your last name?”
“Madrid. Why?”
“So I know what to call your parents.”
That makes him laugh. “You could always just ask them their names, you know. They don’t bite.”
I glare at him, he doesn’t seem to comprehend my inability to interact with adults.
“What’s your last name?”
“Hale.”
He nods. “So, are you coming to dinner?”
“Sure.”
“Cool.”
We eat in silence afterwards then we stand at the spot, the bell rings, and we part ways. Mr. Stewart has a conniption when I get up to throw away my water bottle but he doesn’t send me out of class so it’s a win. I get home and lounge in my room, I eat dinner with Mom, Dad, Vinny, Franco, and Heather. It’s soup and sandwiches, I really like soup and sandwiches, especially when Mom puts tomatoes on the sandwiches. I like my tomatoes sliced extra tick and Mom always makes it just the way I like it.
After dinner I’m back in my room, listening to Bowling for Soup, followed by Sum 41. I’m in a good mood and punk rock is some of the only good mood music I listen to.
I think about dinner tomorrow night. Do I have to wear something nice? What are they going to make? What time am I supposed to be there? Will I be expected to stay afterwards and talk? I can’t believe I agreed to this.
The next day at school I ask Benjamin these question, he laughs at me when I ask if I’m supposed to dress nice. He tells me not to show up in a thong and tiara. I punch him in the shoulder. He says his dad is making a roast with potatoes and carrots. I’m surprised his dad is the cook, I don’t know why. I love to cook but I’m used to my mom being the in the kitchen. Dinner is at six and he asks me to show up half an hour early.
He also says that if I want to I can stay afterwards for a boardgame but I don’t know if I will.
I go home that night and panic for a while, everybody’s in the garage so I get to panic in peace. Should I change? Would that be weird? I’m wearing an old hoodie I cut the sleeves off of which does seem a little inappropriate. I change into a plain grey t-shirt that’s a bit too big for me. My jeans are worn, but they aren’t covered in holes like a lot of my others are, so I consider them good enough.
I slather on some extra deodorant because I have a tendency to sweat when I’m nervous. It’s been colder out which will help but I feel more comfortable with the extra protection.
I drive out to the Madrid house at five twenty since it’s about ten minutes away. Should I have brought something? A dessert or a salad? Too late now, I’m already here.
I knock on the door, Benjamin answers. “Sup.” I say.
He nods. “Come in.” He steps aside and I walk in, taking in the pictures on the wall for the second time. This time there’s also an intoxicating smell. It’s the scent of aromatics and herbs wafting through the house.
“Want to see the other snakes?” He asks.
“Sure.”
I’m introduced to Simon and Garfunkel, two white and brown ball pythons that Benjamin tells me are white-sided. There’s also Chelsea, another ball python but she’s a normal one—Benjamin calls it wild type. The Mexican black kingsnake is Mickey, Benjamin recommends that I don’t hold him because they’re still working with him and he tends to bite.
They have a common boa too, which surprises me, I didn’t know it was legal to keep them as pets. Benjamin assures me it is. He’s an albino, his name is Cooper, and he is heavy. He’s an absolute unit, Benjamin tells me he’s about eight years old and they feed him full size rabbits.
“Doesn’t that get expensive?” I ask, feeding all these snakes with so many rats and mice and rabbits must add up.
“Kind of, it’s cheaper to buy in bulk so that’s what we usually do. We have a deep freeze in the garage where we keep all of the frozen animals.” He takes Cooper off my shoulders and puts him back in his huge tank.
In this reptile room there are also several fish tanks, one is saltwater with a couple little crabs, some sea anemones, clownfish, tangs, and wrasses, or so Benjamin tells me. I only recognize the clownfish. Another tank is freshwater with a bunch of colorful little fish darting around. There’s another tank with a few bettas and some snails.
“I though you couldn’t put bettas together.”
“Definitely not males but females can be in the same tank. It's called a sorority.” He tells me their names, there are three. The blue one—the smallest one—is Teeny, the red one is Amber, and there’s this cool black one called Onyx.
By the time we finish touring the reptile room dinner is ready. It looks delicious. It smells good too. Table etiquette is different here than at my house. At home, everybody serves themselves, if they need something it’s passed across the table and you take as much as you want.
Here, Mr. Madrid serves everybody. He asks me how much I want. “Um.” I don’t know how much I want, what kind of a question is that? When I don’t say anything he just gives me a set amount, I’m so thankful he didn’t press me. I don’t know what to say. An ounce? Two?
Dinner here is also very quiet, at home everybody’s talking and chatting, sometimes there’s even music playing. Not here, the only sounds are those of chewing and knives and forks against plates. I feel so intensely uncomfortable. I have to hold back any words, any out of place movements. I don’t bounce my leg, I don’t tap my fingers, I don’t burp or even talk. I have never been so polite in my life.
After dinner, Mr. Madrid clears off the table. Should I offer to help? Is that weird?
“Uh,” I stand up. “Would you like some help?”
Mr. Madrid smiles so wide, he looks so happy. “I would love your help, Leo.”
So I help wash the dishes. Mr. Madrid scrubs, I rinse, and Benjamin joins us to dry. This is also done in silence. It’s so weird, these people are so formal, so polite. I never would have expected this from the way Benjamin acts at school.
Then they ask if I want to play Sorry! I say sure, why not? It’s a fun game but then I’m nervous, I don’t want to sit in silence for another hour. I don’t think I could handle it.
Mrs. Madrid shuffles the deck. “Best not be cheating.” Mr. Madrid tells her, with a playful look on his face. Mrs. Madrid gives him a look that says, “don’t be a dick”. I immediately know Benjamin is nothing like his mother, he is his father through and through. It’s also the way he snickers when his mom looks at his dad, then shuts up when she looks at him. He looks more like his mom though, same dark hair and blue eyes. The freckles are from his dad, who's redhead.
“Pick a card.” Mr. Madrid tells me. I cut the deck and get a two. Mr. Madrid gets an eight, Mrs. Madrid a three, and Benjamin gets a seven, so Mr. Madrid goes first. He’s blue, Mrs. Madrid is yellow, Benjamin is green, and I’m red. We all start with a player out of home.
Mr. Madrid gets a three, and the game begins. Mrs. Madrid gets a ten and moves backwards one, Benjamin gets a one and whines. I get a lucky four, Benjamin and his dad hoot and holler, Mrs. Madrid smirks.
I’m the first with a pawn in home but I get stuck in start for a long time, yellow chases blue around the board, green is mercilessly slaughtering yellow at every chance it gets. Yellow keeps getting out of home and it’s pissing me off. I finally get a two, then a four. I soon have another pawn in home but green isn’t far behind, with one pawn in home and two in safety. I get another pawn out, yellow hounds me but green kills it. Then promptly kills me.
In the end Mr. Madrid wins, he whoops then races off. He returns with a polaroid and snaps a picture of us cleaning up his win. We’re all laughing.
“Do you want to keep it?” Mr. Madrid asks me.
Do I want to keep what? The picture? Is it rude to say no? I’ve had a good time, after all. A really good time. “Okay, thank you.” I take the picture and say goodbye. It’s almost nine, I’ll be expected home soon. Mom’ll be mad if I’m not home at a reasonable time on a school night.
“Are we going to the desert this weekend?” Benjamin asks as he walks me out.
I shrug. “If you want to.”
“I do, somewhere different than the last couple of times.”
“I haven’t taken you to the same place twice.” I say, laughing.
“I know.” He says. “But I get the feeling you tend to go to the same places.”
“The places I go are awesome.”
He laughs.
“I’ll take you out to Squaw, we can do some more rock climbing. And go swimming if it's not too cold.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good combination.”
I laugh. “Squaw is great, you’ll love it.”
He nods. “I’m sure I will. See you later.”
I wave as he walks back inside then hop in my truck and leave. I park in my driveway and look at the picture, Benjamin has a mock-grumpy look on his face, Mrs. Madrid has just taken all the blues out of home and is midway through putting them in the box, I’m laughing at Benjamin. It really is a good picture.
I’m glad I went.
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