Probable Impossibilities Read online

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  The smell of garlic settled over me like a blanket as I entered the house. Dad stood at the kitchen counter leaning over his laptop.

  “Cody?” he said without looking up. “You're late. I could use some help with dinner.” His fingers tapped rhythmically on the keys like the woodpecker.

  “I have to wash up first.”

  “Use the bathroom downstairs. Your mom is already up and getting ready for work.”

  I dashed up the stairs to my room and grabbed a change of clothes. The sound of Mom's blowdryer from the bathroom battled with the radio from Nathan's room. Great. My older brother was home tonight instead of in classes. What was the good of having him go to college if he was always home at night?

  Peeling off the jacket I crept down to the basement. After cleaning up and changing, I stuffed the dirty clothes and jacket into the washing machine. Once Mom left for work at the hospital I could wash everything and not have to explain being in the woods.

  I entered the kitchen. A thin trail of smoke came from the oven. Dad peered at his laptop screen and typed furiously.

  “Dad...” I began.

  “Don't want to lose the momentum,” he said. “How's this.”

  Jacques heaved himself over the rock shelf and lay panting on the ledge. The late afternoon sun beat down. Sweat drenched his body mixing with the red dirt and making a muddy paste that clung to his arms and face. Dizzy and exhausted he lay where he was, too spent to move into the shade of the cliff wall...

  “Dad!” I whipped open the oven and the smell of burning pasta poured out.

  Dad whirled around and grabbed a hot pad. With a smooth sweep of his arm he pulled the pan from the oven and placed it on the stovetop. “Just a little sauce bubbled over the edge and burnt. Nothing to worry about. Pop in the bread.” He turned back to the laptop.

  “Smells interesting,” Mom said as she bustled into the room. “Sam, darling, can you set aside your writing career for a moment while we have dinner?”

  He turned from the computer with a satisfied grin. “Jacques hasn't eaten for two days and is wilting in the sun with the discovery of a lifetime just out of reach.”

  “I feel like I haven't eaten in days,” Nate said from the doorway. “Something's burning. Are we having leftovers from Jacques last campfire?”

  Mom frowned and pointed to a chair. “Sit and be quiet.” She turned to me. “Home a little late today?”

  Nate smirked and sat forward with anticipation. He didn't use to be such a jerk. Before I had time to wonder what to say, Dad set the food on the table and announced, “I have news.”

  We all turned to stare at him.

  Nate broke the silence. “An advance on the book?”

  “Something almost as good.” He dished up the lasagna with a flourish. “A promising interview.”

  “Which application?” Mom asked.

  “I believe the proper title is Building Superintendent.”

  Nate slumped back in his chair and his mouth dropped open. Then he found his voice. “A janitor?”

  “A term used by those with limited vocabulary and understanding of the intricacies of the job. I was hoping the higher education you're getting would expand your grasp of the English language and of society in general.”

  It was my turn to smirk.

  Nate pursed his lips. His voice was casual as he asked, “Where is the job at?”

  “Valley Middle School.”

  I choked on the garlic bread. “My school?” I gasped out the words spraying a few crumbs across the table.

  “Nate swallowed a large bite of lasagna. “That's convenient. You can drive Cody to school everyday.”

  I resisted the urge to climb across the table and feed Nate the rest of his lasagna. Not that I would have been successful. He was older, bigger, tougher, and lately meaner.

  I turned a pleading look to Mom. She smiled encouragingly. “Walking is good exercise. No need for you to ride to school. The hours probably won't be the same in any case.”

  “I don't have the job yet,” Dad said. “They'll be calling me tomorrow to let me know.”

  I ate mechanically. The pasta had lost all taste. Back when I was four years old I had a toy wookie. I told everyone it talked to me and protected me, but it was Nate who really stood up for me. I would almost put up with the teasing again if Nate hadn't changed.

  But the wookie was old, dull news compared to a real dad, with life and personality, working at my school. This would spread fast. Doug and Josh would find it irresistible. They wouldn't even need imagination.