How We Deal With Gravity(55)

I have almost everything figured out—I thought a Thursday night date would work better for her than a weekend. Max will be covered, and it’s easier to get Avery out of work. I haven’t talked to Ray again—not since I told him I took care of Adam.

Ben’s pissed that I’m late. He keeps texting me, wanting to know when I’ll make it to rehearsals. He’s like a jealous girlfriend when my time is focused anywhere other than on him.

I figure I’m already on his shit list, so what’s a few more minutes. I can see there are kids on the playground at Max’s school, and I just feel this pull—like I need to check on him. I cruise by at about five miles per hour, rounding the corner slowly. I’m sure I look like a predator, and I notice at least one of the teachers following my car with her eyes.

I’d speed up and keep driving, except I don’t see Max. Maybe it’s not his grade or something, but I swear these kids look like Max’s age. My chest starts to constrict. My head starts to go to dark places—like Max ran away and nobody noticed, or he’s in trouble…or he’s being pinned down in a bathroom by some * kid. I was that * kid.

I’m in the parking lot suddenly, like my steering wheel went on autopilot, and seconds later I’m jogging through the lot to the playground gate. I have to find him, I have to find him.

“Can I help you?” an older woman says, clearly sent to stop me from entering.

“Hi, I’m sorry. I’m…Max Abbot’s uncle,” I lie through my teeth. “I just promised his mom I’d swing by to check on him, since I was in the area.”

“Oh, well, normally you need to check in with the office to be on school grounds,” she says, her hand still blocking my way through the gate. I’m honestly thinking about just shoving her out of my way, but I know that probably wouldn’t go over well.

“Right. Right. I really don’t need to talk to him or anything, I was just making sure he was doing well at recess, and…look, I sort of panicked when I didn’t see him. Can you just tell me where he is?” I ask, and her guard drops a little. She smiles softly and nods. She must understand Max’s issues. Either that, or my charm now works on the over-sixty crowd. Whatever it is, she’s motioning for me to follow her onto the basketball court, so I do.

“He’s in there,” she points over to the giant concrete pipe off in the far corner of the playground. I remember that pipe—we used to call it the tunnel of love when I was in sixth grade. I kissed Mindy Howard in that tunnel. But something tells me that’s not what Max is in there for. I squint; I can see his feet propped up on the sidewall and his hands over his ears; he’s sitting perfectly still.

“Does he go in there often?” I ask, my heart sinking.

“He spends every recess in there. His teacher, Mrs. Bailey, will sometimes try to coax him out, but…you know Max. He seems content to just sit in there,” she says, staring at the same lonely boy I am.

“Is that Mrs. Bailey?” I ask, pointing to a woman near the tunnel.

“That’s her. Come on, I’ll introduce you,” she urges me to follow, and I do. I’m going to be really late for rehearsal, and Ben is going to shit over it, but I don’t care. I have to do something here.

“Mrs. Bailey? This is Max’s uncle…I’m sorry, what was your name?” she says, and I reach out my hand to shake Mrs. Bailey’s hand.

“Mason. I’m Mason,” I say, and she grabs my hand and smiles, clearly on to me. She seems like she’s going to play along though, so I ride out the lie.

“Hi, Mason. I didn’t know Max had an uncle,” she smirks when the older woman walks away.

“He doesn’t,” I respond with a shrug.

“I didn’t think so,” she laughs a little. “Are you friends with Avery?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, looking at the blue and white shoes now poking out of the end of the tunnel. “He’s in there…every day, huh?”

“Uh huh. Every recess. It’s still early, and he’ll find his way. School is hard, Mason. And for a kid like Max, everything is just a little harder,” she looks at me sympathetically.

“Does he have any…friends?” I ask, remembering the homework assignment from last night.

“Like I said, we’re working on it…it’s early yet. That’s one of his goals. He just needs to learn how to be with other kids right now,” she says, looking back over at Max. Every so often, his feet reposition, but his hands stay cupped on his ears. I think his eyes may even be closed. I just want to run over and give the kid his iPad, something to do, but I know that wouldn’t help this situation. It would only give him an out, a reason to recluse himself even more.

“Do you think…maybe I could visit your classroom for a few minutes sometime? I’m a musician, and Max has learned some things about music. Maybe, like, a show-and-tell? Just to help him break the ice,” I ask, my voice inside warning me I should probably bring Avery into something like this. But I’ve already made myself a relative, what’s crossing one more line?

“I think that might be nice,” she says, her smile bigger now.

“Okay, maybe tomorrow?” I say, not wanting to see Max’s feet in that tunnel for one more day.

“I’ll make some time in the morning, before recess. At nine?” she says, opening up the notebook in her arms and jotting down a reminder.