Mockingbird

CHAPTER 15 FINESSE

I STILL HAVEN’T FOUND CLOSURE and I remember that Michael was going to ask his dad. When it’s time for Mrs. Brook to leave I run around the playground looking for him.

Finally I see his red baseball cap over by the slide and run up behind him. Did you ask your dad about Closure?

He turns around. Hi Caitlin!

Did you ask your dad about Closure?

Yup.

What did he say?

Let’s play football.

I don’t like football.

No. I mean that’s what my dad said.

What does that have to do with Closure?

I don’t know. That’s how he answers a lot of questions.

Oh. Sometimes grown-ups don’t answer questions.

What’s Closure anyway?

It helps you feel better after someone dies.

Oh. Can I have some?

No because I don’t have any and I don’t know how to get it.

His head droops down. I think this means sad.

But I’m going to find it.

Will you share it with me?

Okay.

He Looks At The Person. His eyes are soft and squishy. Promise?

I nod.

Scout’s honor?

I Look At The Person too. Hard. How does he know my nickname?

Scout’s honor? he asks again.

I nod. Scout’s honor.

That’s when I notice that Michael is wearing overalls. Just like the ones Scout wears in To Kill a Mockingbird.

Hey! Those are what you wear in To Kill a Mockingbird!

He frowns. I don’t kill any birds. Michael is very smart for such a little kid.

That’s good, I tell him, because you shouldn’t.

Then why did you say it?

It’s what Scout wears in To Kill a Mockingbird. It’s a movie.

Ohhh.

I stare at his overalls. What do they feel like?

He looks down at his chest then rubs his hand across the pocket. Sort of like jeans. You can feel them if you want. He sticks his chest out toward me.

I shake my head. I was wondering if the straps hurt or if the waist part is too loose and gets airy and cold.

He shrugs. They feel okay to me. He puts his hand behind his neck. I don’t like this sweatshirt though. It’s got a sticky-outy tag.

I hate those! I tell Michael. You should get the ones that don’t have any tags. That’s what I get.

Dad bought me some new clothes but he isn’t very good at it. Not like my mom.

You just have to tell him what you want. I wear sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt every day. Except in summer. Then my sweatpants and T-shirts are short sleeved. The T-shirt can be any color. I don’t care as long as it’s not yellow or gold or mossy green or pukey green or poopy green — That makes Michael start giggling — or any kind of pink because those colors make me feel sick. And it can only be one color because I don’t like colors running into each other. And there can’t be writing on the T-shirt or people will read it and I don’t want them looking at me. And the long-sleeve T-shirts can’t have scratchy cuffs. And none of the T-shirts can have tags in the back or collars. Or stripes. Or pockets. Or zigzag stitching. Or double stitching. Now my dad knows and he says I’m such a breeze to buy for.

Michael giggles again.

I smile just like I do when Dad says it because even though I don’t know what he means exactly I do know that breezes are nice so it must be good.

Then I notice Michael’s face. Have you been eating dirt, I ask him.

He frowns and shakes his head. Only William H. eats dirt.

I know. So what’s that brown stuff on your face?

He puts his hand on his face and rubs it around then looks at his fingers. Frosting! He grins and licks his fingers. From the birthday cupcakes.

Is it your birthday?

No. It’s Shauna’s. My birthday is in October. I think. Or it’s November. Which one has Halloween in it?

October. That’s my favorite holiday.

Mine too! Except for my birthday. I’ll be seven! That’s old.

I’m about to tell him that seven is still a baby but then I remember about finesse so all I say is, I’ll be eleven next month.

Wow! You’re really old! You must know a lot of stuff.

I do. But some stuff I just learned about. Like finesse.

What’s that?

It’s hard to explain but it’s something I have a lot of.

Oh.

Do you want me to burp my ABCs? I ask him.

Can you do that?

I nod.

Do it! Do it!

So I do and he stares at me with his mouth open until I get to XYZ and then he falls on the ground giggling. Can I get my friends and you do it for them?

Is Josh one of your friends?

He shakes his head as I remember that it’s second recess so Josh is already inside.

Okay. Sure.

I watch and see how he gets his friends. He touches them but doesn’t grab. He Looks At The Person but he doesn’t get in their Personal Space. He also calls out to some of his friends who are playing and pulls his hands toward his chest several times. Then he points at me and starts running toward me. And it’s like his friends are tied to him with string because they run to him from all directions until they all end up in front of me.

This is my friend Caitlin, Michael says.

I feel proud to hear him say that.

She can burp her ABCs!

No way!

Really?

You can?

Do it!

And I do. They think I am awesome. And we make other noises and roll our tongues and cross our eyes and wiggle our ears and hop in a circle and before I know it the bell rings and they all run to the teacher.

I feel like Snow White because now I have a bunch of little dwarf friends who love me. I may not know how Scout’s overalls feel but I think I know how Snow White’s shoes feel because now I know why Snow White was happy.