The Bad Kids (out take)
- Izaak David Diggs
- 2 days ago
- 5 min read
This is an outtake from my memoir The Bad Kids. I couldn’t find a good place for it in the book and wasn’t completely happy with the ending. It was a disappointment; I really wanted this chapter to be included, I just couldn’t make it work. Hope you enjoy it. IDD.
TEXAS
By the time I got to Holly Heights, my shirt was sticking to my back. How was it so hot in April? Even the birds seemed to be hiding from the heat. A car came up behind me as I trudged up the street; it was Norman in his white Valiant. Another shape was behind the windshield: Ian, a family friend. Ian liked to mess with me, give me a scare. It was too hot for that shit. The Valiant came to a stop and I walked around to the driver’s side. The men appeared happy or at least pleased about something.
“Your mother has gone to Texas,” Norman said.
“What?” I didn’t bother to conceal my surprise. “How come?”
And then I remembered who was also in the car: Ian. It was probably a prank. My mother going to Texas was illogical.
“Sick relative,” Ian smiled. “Get in, Puddy-poo, we’ll buy you a taco.”
I was suspicious but what else did I have going on? A boring afternoon in the stifling duplex? Ian threw open the door and got out, I climbed into the back seat. The dark vinyl was trapping heat and I could smell the sweat of the men. Norman did a u-turn in our driveway and headed back down Holly Heights.
“Oh, Puddy-poo!” Ian turned around to laugh at me.
I ignored him using the nickname I hated. He was always trying to get a reaction, I refused to indulge him.
“Texas,” I smirked. “Yeah, right. Like I’m going to believe you.”
Ian faced forward again.
“It’s true,” he nodded at a traffic light we passed. “Sick relative. She may be there awhile.”
We passed a block of houses on the right before Ian spoke again.
“If she isn’t back in a couple of days, we’re supposed to take you to Disneyland.”
“Yeah, right,” I snorted. “What do you think, I’m 10?”
“It’s true,” Norman said. “She flew out this morning.”
I studied his face in the rear view mirror. My mother’s boyfriend was the weak link in Ian’s pranks, couldn’t keep a straight face. That afternoon, he looked serious. Sick relative serious.
Are you falling for this? Really? Come on, it’s Ian.
“Why didn’t she call me?” I asked, watching the men closely for cracks in the deception.
“You were at school,” Norman replied.
“We didn’t want to get you in trouble,” Ian added.
We crossed the Petaluma River. Even though the windows were down the interior of the car was stifling. When the men moved their arms it was like someone was chopping onions in the front seat. Our discussion went back and forth: Me suspicious, asking questions, Ian knocking them back smoothly. I was used to his mind games; when it was just him, he was much more successful. Norman always gave the game away with a smirk, a flash of the eyes, a chuckle. Not that day.
Maybe Mom had gone to Texas.
Are you really this stupid? It’s just another Ian prank.
We stopped short at a red light and I slid forward on the slick vinyl. No air conditioning and no seat belts. The smell of sweat was strong enough that you could taste it; clearly Norman and Ian had been working outside.
I was suspicious but I was also bored. What had been in the forecast before? No friends to hang out with, nothing on TV but soap operas or kiddie cartoons.
I wanted to believe in Disneyland, part of me needed to believe—
And then I’d catch myself and feel stupid.
“Where did Mom go in Texas?” I asked as we passed the library.
“Dallas,” Ian replied without hesitation.
It kinda made sense: Grandpa Jack was from Dallas, we probably still had kin there.
We crossed the U.S. 101 overpass. Being a westside kid I wouldn’t have crossed that bridge without adults; eastside kids ran in packs and ground the bones of westside kids for their bread.
Norman pulled into Washington Square and parked. I leapt out of the back seat as if on a spring, desperate for fresh air. Pueblo Del Sol, Disneyland—details were mattering less and less. Why couldn’t Mom be in Texas? With each passing minute I needed her to be in Texas more and more. With each parked car I passed, I rose higher into daydreams of roller coasters and air conditioned rental cars. Far from Petaluma and school and boring afternoons in the duplex or doing the same shit with my friends. I was desperate to break a closed loop—
“How did she get the money for a plane ticket?” I asked, still holding onto suspicion with one hand.
I should have waited until I could have monitored Norman and Ian’s faces for their reactions. There was a pause that lasted several parking spaces.
“A wire,” Norman replied carefully.
“Your family back there has money,” Ian added. “They also agreed to pay for Disneyland.”
“If your mother isn’t back in a day or two,” Norman picked up the thread.
Inside Pueblo Del Sol, Norman ordered us half a dozen tacos. He and Ian got beer and I got iced tea. After a couple of minutes, our number was called and I went to the counter to grab the orange tray. It had turned into a good day: I was getting tacos, enjoying the air conditioning in the restaurant…and was probably going to Disneyland.
“So, Puddy-poo,” Ian said through a stifled burp. “What rides do you want to go on at Disneyland?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I went there once but it was a long time ago; the rides have probably changed.”
“You should try the Matterhorn,” Norman suggested.
He was looking out the window like someone checking on their car; as if someone would steal that old ass Valiant.
“Not to get your hopes up,” Ian said. “But it sounds like your relative may be really sick. Your Mom may have to be there for a few weeks.”
“That’s fine,” I replied. “I mean, I hope they get better, but if they need Mom’s help…”
“I think it’s supposed to be cancer,” Norman said solemnly.
Cancer. That was good news; that would definitely mean more than a couple of days—
Not to sound like a shitty kid, but Disneyland was looking more and more likely—
And then Mom was walking into the restaurant with a smile on her face. Ian smirked at me and waved her over. He had gotten me, I had walked into his trap like a stupid, little kid—
And my mother still talks about how mean I was to her that afternoon, how I wouldn’t even acknowledge her presence or talk to her—
I was enraged: Both at myself for falling for another of Ian’s tricks and at the understanding that things like Disneyland didn’t happen to kids like me. All I had were pranks played on me and hot cars that smelled like sweat. That was all I could look forward to, I understood that as I looked away from my mother’s hurt expression…
If you want to read the whole memoir, it’s here:
Zak was so mad at me...hahahahaha. Sorry I let you dowm.