It's Kind of a Funny Story

I stand up and Bobby hugs me, his big bony hands wrapping around my back, and I feel the smooth old skin of his cheek and the well-knit fabric of my shirt doing a better job on him than it ever did on me. I think about how much this means to this guy, about how much more important it is than going to any high school or getting with any girl or being friends with anybody. This guy just got a place to live. Me? I have one. I’ll always have one. I don’t have any reason to worry about it. My stupid fantasies about ending up homeless are just that—the fact is that my parents will take me in anytime, anywhere. But some people have to get lucky just to live. And I never knew I could make anybody lucky.

If Bobby can get a place to live, I think, then I can get a life worth living.

“Thank you, kid,” Bobby says.

“It’s nothing,” I mumble. “Thanks for the tour.”

“All right, guys, we gonna play cards or what?” Armelio asks, but Bobby stops him.

“One more thing: I’m really sorry, Craig, but I accidentally fell in something on my way back from the interview.” He turns around. There’s a . . . wait a minute . . .

There’s a giant piece of dog shit ground into the back of my shirt, right above his belt.

“Ah . . .” I can’t believe I didn’t smell it. Did I touch it when I hugged him? “Ah, Bobby . . . it’s okay . . . my mom can wash it out—”

“It ain’t real!” Bobby reaches back and pulls it off, throws it at me. It bounces off my shirt (a tie-dye T-shirt that everyone on Six North likes) and lands on the table in the buttons.

“It’s plastic! I’ve had it since the eighties! Ha! I love it!”

Armelio cracks up. “Holy crap! Look at that! It looks like something my mom would leave in my bedroom!”

Everyone stops, turns.

“President Armelio, we did not need to know that,” says Humble.

“Your mother would defecate in your bedroom?” the Professor asks.

“Who said that?” Armelio asks. “I was talking about plastic—what’sthematter with you?”

“Everybody just cool it a little,” says Joanie, standing up with her book at her side. “Let’s have fun, but keep calm.”

“All right, who gets the doodie button?” Humble holds up the poop. “I think it counts for two.”

Bobby sits down and we ante up. The game is poker, seven-card stud. I’m no good at it. The hands start and people begin betting crazy, throwing in three or four buttons right at the beginning. I can’t match them. I have a limited number. And I don’t seem to be getting any good hands. So I fold. I fold three times in a row. The third time, Johnny says, “You might as well bet. It’s just buttons.”

“Yeah,” Humble says. “Let me show you a secret.” He reaches into the button container and takes out a handful. “See?”

“I see,” Armelio says, looking over his cards. “Don’t think that’s not cheating, Humble. Any more and you’re out.”

I laugh and bet six buttons.

“What am I out of, exactly?” Humble asks Armelio. “The button jackpot?”

“Be nice,” the Professor says.

“Oh, listen to her,” Humble jerks his thumb. “Trying to be the mediator.” He leans in to me. “Don’t let her grandma look fool you. She’s a real hustler.”

“Excuse me?” The Professor puts down her cards. “What do you mean, ‘grandma?’”

“Nothing, you just have that little old granny look about you, to lull people into your trap of playing good cards!” Humble gestures at himself disbelievingly.

“You’re saying I’m old.”

“I’m not! I’m saying you’re a grandma!”

“Humble, apologize,” Joanie says from the back.

“Why? Grandmas are wonderful things.”

“For your information I’ll have you know,” the Professor says, “that unlike certain people around here I act my age.”

“Oh, so now I’m a liar?” Humble asks, standing up.

“We all know that’s what you are,” says the Professor.

“Peo-ple . . .” Joanie warns.

“If I’m a liar, you know what you are?”

“What? You better not call me old because I’ll take this cane and whack you in the head right in front of everybody.”

“You ain’t taking nothing of mine!” Ebony holds her cane close. Quietly, she has far and away the most buttons.

“You’re a yuppie!” Humble yells, and he picks up the dog doo and throws it at her head. “A stupid yuppie with no respect for anybody!”

“Aaaagh!” The Professor holds her face. “He broke it! He broke my nose!” The dog doo has bounced all the way across the room and Joanie jumps over it lightly as she beats a hasty retreat.

“Uh-oh,” Armelio says. “Now you guys did it. We were having such a good card game.”

Harold comes into the room with two big guys in light blue jumpsuits, Joanie behind them. Humble raises his hands. “What? I didn’t do it!”

“C’mon, Mr. Koper,” Harold says.

“I can’t believe it!” Humble says. “She insulted me! It wasn’t even my dog poop! I didn’t have the weapon!” He starts pointing at Bobby. “He’s an accomplice. If I’m going, he’s going.”

“Humble, you have three seconds to get over here.”