The Second Chance of Benjamin Waterfalls, page 13
Technically, I’m not lying. I was standing in Hawaii earlier today.
It worked. I hear his feet shuffle away as he shouts, “If you got time, you should swing by the Lighthouse. It was lit in 1922 and is still operational today. Ain’t that something?”
“I’ll check it out. Thanks,” I shout back, knowing I won’t do any such thing.
Finally, alone inside, I pick the shirt that I’d most likely wear. After all, if I’m going to steal it, I may as well like it. Let’s see what we got here … My choices are a white shirt with a hangman on it. It reads HOW’S IT HANGIN’?… No thanks. Too cheesy.
The second shirt is a blue shirt that has a picture of a small can of pop on it, that stands on a doormat. And on it is WELCOME TO MINI SODA … Umm, nope. Even cheesier.
The third shirt is red and has a drawing of a moose on it. The moose is covered in chocolate. Under the moose it says CHOCOLATE MOOSE. Maybe I’ll come back later and steal this shirt for Wendy. She loves food. She loves eating so much that she’d probably eat a moose.
The next shirt is black and has a picture of a dragon on it, breathing fire, but the fire is a blue frost-flame, and the dragon is holding breath mints. Under it, it says DRAGON BREATH. I don’t really get it, but Lulu will. I found a winner.
I take a quick glance at the last shirt, which is gray and says OUR LAKE IS SUPERIOR and has a picture of Lake Superior during sunset. I immediately think my mom would like this shirt, which makes me feel kind of guilty for not talking to her yet. She probably misses me like crazy. Maybe later I’ll get this shirt for her. But not right now; I’m not here to feel, I’m here to steal.
I remove my shirt, put on the dragon shirt, and slip my shirt back on over it. I then put all four shirts back on the four hangers and open the door. The guy takes the shirts from me.
“How’d you do, buddy?” he asks.
“None fit right,” I say, and exit the store. “But I’ll be back.”
“Aloha,” he says as I walk toward the front entrance.
Aloha? Oh, that’s right. I’m supposed to be Hawaiian. “Aloha,” I say back.
I feel better. I feel like myself again. I walk outside and see Lulu, who is on her motorcycle, waiting for me by the curb. “That was quite the bathroom break, kid, what’s the matter with your bladder?” she sings to me, and tosses me the helmet.
“You can stop singing now,” I say, which causes her to laugh.
I slap on the helmet, and we race out of the parking lot and onto Wisconsin Street, so fast that I almost pee my pants again, which would take some explaining, since she thinks I just peed.
Within thirty minutes we are back at her home. I bet an average driver takes much longer to get back to Grand Portage, but the average driver doesn’t ride a dragon. And as we pull up to her house, I can’t believe it, but George’s brand-new bike is still exactly where I left it. People up here are so trusting. Don’t they realize there are thieves around? Lulu parks her dragon on the curb and grabs the bag of stuffed animals from one of the dragon’s compartments. I remove the helmet and climb off, following her.
She stops at the door. “So … what am I supposed to do with all these animals?” she asks.
“Beats me.”
“Okay, well, until Niimi comes back, I’m going to get some work done,” she says.
“Meaning I should leave?” I ask.
“Meaning exactly that.”
I hold the screen door open for her. “Can I ask you something?”
“I just always have been,” she says.
“What?” I ask.
“Were you not going to ask me what everyone else asks me when they find out I’m gay?” she says.
“No. I was going to ask you if you knew why Niimi wears that mask,” I say.
Lulu smiles, though I’m not sure why. “You got the hots for her, don’t you?”
“What? No!”
Plus, it’s impossible to have the hots for someone in a place so cold.
“Have you asked Niimi?” she says.
“Ask me what?” Niimi says from behind me, approaching the porch.
I turn and try to recover, hoping she didn’t overhear me. “Hey. We were just talking about what we should do with all these animals,” I say.
“Was he asking why I wear this mask?” Niimi asks Lulu.
“Yep.”
“And did you tell him about the leaking radioactive plant that is directly behind my house that has turned the upper half of my face into red blistering bubbles?” Niimi says.
“I didn’t get to that, but I was going to, right after the one about you being bit in the forehead by a great white Lake Superior shark,” Lulu says.
Niimi and Lulu laugh.
“It’s a valid question. Normal people don’t wear masks,” I say.
“Normal people?” Niimi looks around. “Have you seen a normal person around here, Lulu?”
“I haven’t seen a normal person around here in ages. In fact, I don’t even remember what they look like. Tell us, Benny, what does a normal person look like?” Lulu asks.
“Well … like me,” I say, and they both erupt in laughter.
“You’re a riot, Benny. But the time for hahas is over. Let’s go inside and root out this fear,” Niimi says, and passes me as she enters Lulu’s home. I follow them in.
Once inside, Niimi empties the bag of stuffed animals onto the carpeted floor.
I turn away so I don’t have to see the stuffed bear again.
“Benny, move this couch and coffee table to the back wall,” Niimi says, and since there is no point in refusing, I do it.
“Lulu, do you have chairs?”
“In the kitchen, and some foldouts in the garage,” Lulu says.
“Great. Get those,” Niimi says.
“Okay, umm, why?” Lulu asks as she heads into the kitchen.
“For your concert. Hurry up. Your show starts in five minutes.”
I move the couch and coffee table. Lulu brings in four table chairs and five foldout chairs. Niimi sets them up in rows; a first and second row, then places the stuffed animals into each chair, facing the front; where Lulu will be performing. The remaining stuffed animals are placed on the couch, making it the back row. The cheap seats. I keep my eyes on Lulu. I do not want to freeze up again by staring at the bear.
“Hit the lights,” Niimi says to me even though she’s much closer to the switch than I am, but again, I do it; strictly out of curiosity.
Niimi hands Lulu the guitar and nudges her to the front and center of the room, as if her living room is a stage. Lulu takes a deep breath. She looks hesitant.
“They’re just stuffed animals. Don’t worry,” Niimi says.
“But you two are watching. You’re not animals,” Lulu responds.
“Technically, we are animals, but would it help you if we blended into the crowd?” Niimi asks.
Lulu looks confused, “How can you blend into this crowd?”
Niimi smiles and reaches into her bag, pulling out two life-size animal costumes; one brown and orange turkey and one pink pig. “You want to be the mizise or the gookoosh?” she asks.
I really need to learn Ojibwe. “I’ll be the turkey.”
“Put it on,” Niimi says as she tosses the gobbler to me.
“Where do you conjure up these ideas?” I ask Niimi.
“Conjure. Good word. Write that down.”
“I just said it. It’s my word. Why would I write it down?” I ask.
“It’s my notebook. And my pen. Write it down.”
I write it down and take the turkey-wear with me to Lulu’s bathroom. After I shut the door, I remove my shirt, and my new shirt, and unzip the turkey costume. I shuffle it over my jeans and zip it up. My reflection makes me laugh. I look even sillier than when my dad and Wendy dressed me up in that ninety-nine cent Indian costume.
As soon as I waddle into the living room, I am greeted by Niimi, dressed as a pig with a mask. I toss Lulu the dragon breath shirt and take a seat. Lulu catches it and downs her eyebrows at me. “Where did you get this?” she asks me.
“It’s mine, but I think it suits you better. You can have it,” I say.
“It’s new?”
“Nah, I’ve had it for ages,” I say.
“But it still has the price tag on it,” she says, holding it up for me to see.
Niimi shoots me a look of disappointment. “We’ll deal with this later, Benny,” Niimi says.
Lulu removes her top. She wears a red bra, and her skin is adorned with more tattoos. This girl must enjoy pain. She puts on her new shirt. It fits tightly over her body, and she immediately bites the seam lines of the sleeves, then rips them off, making it sleeveless. “That’s better,” she says.
“You just bit the sleeves off the shirt. Who does that?” I say.
“Dragons do,” Lulu says.
Lulu begins to strum her guitar. The crowd of stuffed animals is her audience. This is pretty ridiculous. But let’s see if Niimi’s plan works. I guess we’ll soon find out if Lulu just flushed fifty dollars down the toilet.
CHAPTER 15
GASHKENDAMIDE’E (SAD HEART)
“I call this song ‘Bring It On,’” Lulu says, and continues to strum her guitar.
If today doesn’t kill me, tomorrow might.
But I won’t go easily—just ask last night.
Yes, I slayed yesterday, and I defeated the day before.
When I got knocked down, I got back up and asked for more.
I massacred Monday, I tore apart Tuesday
I buried Wednesday with Thursday
I finished Friday, and drowned the weekend in the creek
And all of that was just last week.
Right now is upon me, the past is dead and gone
And I’m staring at my future, singing “Bring it on” …
As Lulu sings, my eyes start playing tricks on me. Maybe because the room is dimly lit and there’s so much nervous energy, but I keep thinking I see the stuffed animals begin to move. I know it’s impossible, but from the corners of my eyes I see an ear twitch, then an arm move. But as soon as I shoot my eyes to each animal, they stop moving. And then moments later, it happens again. A tail wags, a head nods. But every time I try to catch them in the act, they go still again. It’s always in my peripheral vision. Maybe I’m just tired or hungry or something. But I notice Lulu’s eyes widen, and she nearly gasps every time her eyes meet her audience. Are we both seeing this?
Lulu stops playing and sets the guitar down. Hands shaking. Niimi and I, and all the stuffed animals, sit in silence as we watch Lulu cry. After a few beats, Niimi stands up and claps. I do the same, half expecting the stuffed animals to join the standing ovation, but they don’t move. Lulu smiles and wipes away her tears.
“Your superhero is waking up,” Niimi says.
Lulu can barely speak. “How did I … I mean, how did you…”
“It’s simple,” Niimi says. “I realized to look forward, we must look back. The Anishinaabe have thousands of stories to help people bloom. We’ve heard many of them growing up. And you know why they are effective?”
“Why?” Lulu asks.
“Because many times, we use animals to tell them. We speak of wolves, moose, bears, eagles, foxes, snakes, and bees. Those animals become real in our head. They teach us lessons. Real life lessons. So, I used our ancestors’ methods to help you. These animals became your audience. They became real and became part of your story. You’ve always had an audience, because your ancestors are always with you. Sometimes we forget that. These animals here were just to remind you that you’re never alone.”
How does a twelve-year-old girl know so much? Is it because her father is a chief and she was raised learning all about our Ojibwe culture? That’s so strange to me. I was raised on Nickelodeon and Sesame Street.
“But how did they move? I saw them move. That bunny. It was dancing,” Lulu says.
Whoa. She saw them moving too. But wait … Dancing? Did she really see them dancing?
“Music is magic, and that magic moved the crowd,” Niimi continues. “Now all you’ve got to do when you’re singing in front of people, is see them as a bunch of animals. After a few performances, you’ll no longer care who or what they are. You’ll only care about one thing—making them move,” Niimi says.
“What if she doesn’t believe in magic?” I interrupt. “What if they were just off balance and fell over? Maybe the wind moved an ear or tail. But it wasn’t magic.” I shrug. “It was just music.”
“Can you see music? Taste music? Touch music?” Niimi asks. “No. It’s weightless. Odorless. Invisible. And yet it can break a heart and melt a heart and put a heart back together for millions of people in a matter of two minutes. If that’s not magic, I don’t know what is.”
“So, my stage fright is dead?” Lulu asks, rushing up and hugging her.
“Your stage fright isn’t dead. But the superhero inside of you is now challenging the villain to a fight. But you must keep playing. The more you play, the more you fight. The more you fight, the more you bloom,” Niimi says through the hug.
Then she slips out of her pig costume and tosses it to me. I remove the turkey garb and place them both on the couch. I follow Niimi outside, and we walk to our bikes.
I need to process what just happened. I need to think logically here. All Niimi did was give Lulu a way to not think about her fear. It wasn’t supernatural. It was simply a friendly game of manipulation. She tricked her. She’s making Lulu think that her fear was an enemy that needed to be defeated, when really all Lulu needed was a cute little distraction to make her forget about being afraid. Maybe that’s all that this Native boot camp really is. A distraction from reality. Maybe she’s distracting me right now. I can’t steal if I’m off pulling stunts like this all day. Boot camp, my butt! She’s just keeping me busy so I don’t raid the mall. Little does she know that a thief will always find a way to steal. The joke’s on them. And I have a microphone in my backpack to prove it.
“There was someone in the crowd you were trying to avoid,” Niimi says as she climbs onto her bike.
“Someone in the crowd?” I laugh. “They were stuffed animals.”
“I watched you. There was one section of the audience you refused to look at. I’d like to know why,” she insists.
Ugh. I don’t know how she was able to pick up on that. She’ll make me pretend the bear is my best friend or something. But Niimi can’t change me, no matter how convincing her charade is … It’s still a charade. I see through her mask.
And that weird daydream of me getting punched in the face never really happened. It was just a blip of feeling guilty, but now that feeling’s gone. I feel fine.
“You’re not ready to talk about the makwa yet … That’s okay,” Niimi says.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about. In fact, everything that happened back there, that was—”
“Awesome?” Niimi tries to finish my sentence.
“No. You convinced a singer to sing. Big wow. What’s next? You going to convince a comedian that he’s funny?” I say.
“Still in denial, I see. That’s okay. I expected as much from you,” she says.
“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”
“Because, Benny … You’re a slow learner. Like how your dad was,” she says, and rides off, leaving me in Lulu’s yard.
A quick burst of anger flares through me. I’m nothing like my father. I am a winner, and he is a loser. I must never forget that. “Wait. I don’t know how to get back!” I shout.
“You’ll figure it out, tough guy!” she yells, and speeds down the street until she wraps around the corner, out of my view.
I get on George’s bike and pedal in the direction she rode in. I wonder why she didn’t want me to ride with her. Did I offend her? Or is this another one of her tests?
* * *
Even though it only took about thirty minutes to get to Lulu’s house, it took nearly two hours for me to finally find my way back home. Well, not home, but to my dad’s house. I hop off the bike and quietly sneak it back into the garage. They can hardly call me a thief for it, I mean, I am returning it—but I should sell it soon, before someone else steals it.
George is standing in the Australia section of the living room, holding a book. He sees me and rolls his eyes.
“What are you reading?” I ask.
“Nothing,” he says, and puts it back on the shelf.
I see the book before he pushes it in, blending it with all the rest. The cover has a huge hairy spider on it. “Australia’s Deadliest Animals, huh?”
“Wow. You can read. I owe my mom ten bucks,” George says.
“Didn’t they make this cute little travel room for you, to try to snap you out of your funk?” I ask.
“What’s your point?”
“How in the world would that book ever make you want to go to Australia?” I ask.
“Maybe, unlike you, I’m not afraid of spiders,” George says.
“Right, you’re only afraid of sunshine and fresh air,” I say.
George doesn’t like that. He puffs out his chest and walks up to me.
“Say that to my face,” he says, and each word sends tiny little spit missiles onto my face.
“I would say, ‘You wanna take this outside?’ but I know you’re too scared to step—” But before I can finish my sentence, George throws a quick jab, hitting me directly in my nose—the exact same spot where Lulu hit me in my strange daydream.
My head jolts back. But unlike the daydream, I don’t lose my footing and fall. My adrenaline kicks in, and I charge him, wrapping my arms around his body. I lift him up and slam him against the wall.
Something breaks and crashes to the floor with us. We must have traveled quite a distance, an ocean to be exact, because while we’re wrestling on the floor, we end up all the way in Japan by the time we stop. Bamboo shelves, tiny ninja figurines, and cherry blossoms are scattered everywhere.
Before George can pound my head into Tokyo, Wendy barges into the room and yanks him off me. “What the hell is going on? I want answers now!” Wendy shouts at us.
