Counting by 7s(37)

And where was the rose once it was gone?

It returned, Mai figured, back to the larger whole that surrounds us all.



No one ever picked up Quang-ha from school, so when Dell Duke’s car screeched to a stop right at his feet, he was alarmed.

The smudged window slid down and Dell shouted:

“Hey!”

The boy could feel his whole body tense. You don’t say “Hey” to someone named “Ha.”

And then Dell shouted:

“Get in! We’re on a tight schedule!”

Quang-ha didn’t budge.

“What’s going on?”

Dell reached across and opened the car door.

“Ask your mother. She’s running this scam.”



Dell didn’t explain much; just that Pattie and Willow were at his apartment fixing it up to make it look like they lived there.

It all seemed pretty shady to Quang-ha.

But he called his mother on her cell and she told him to load up the cooking stuff from their garage.

He was supposed to take blankets and sheets and bathroom things too.

He was pretty sure it was the dumbest idea in the world, but he crossed the alley and took the sweaty counselor with him.

For over a month Quang-ha had been sleeping in the same room with a complete stranger. Maybe someone was finally going to do something about that.



Dell stood in the doorway of the garage and stared.

No wonder they had used his address! This place didn’t even look legal.

Dell had assumed they lived in a house or at least a real apartment. So this was a shocker.

Where did the woman get all of her attitude?

After he and the Lone Wolf (who might actually be an Oddball) had placed a rice cooker, a bamboo steamer, a wok, half a dozen bowls, tongs, a collection of chopsticks, two meat cleavers, three cooking pots, and the bedding into Dell’s trunk, they filled an old milk crate with food.

They then grabbed some stuff from the bathroom in the salon, and were back on the road.

It felt, to Quang-ha, like some kind of prison break.

By the time they swung into the dusty carport of the Gardens of Glenwood, he was even more on board with the whole plan. It seemed obvious that they were going around the law, or at least defying some rule or regulation.

And that was exciting.





Chapter 34





Is there a more personal piece of clothing than someone’s underwear?

I don’t think so.

Dell wears all different styles.

He has a great variety of colors and a shocking number of patterns. He is heavy on the cartoon characters. And images of vegetables.

It is truly disturbing that I now know this.

This man is not just my counselor. He’s also supposedly monitoring my schoolwork. Although in five weeks, that has never once come up.

I can’t believe we don’t just leave his privates in the closet, but Pattie is all about doing things the Right Way.

Even if that means getting involved in someone’s obsessive-compulsive underwear disorder.



It takes us three trips to haul the mountain down to the laundry room.

After we get the first load started, Pattie morphs into some kind of human tornado.

Earlier, I realize, she was just some kind of tropical storm.

By the time Dell and Quang-ha come up the stairs carrying the box of kitchen stuff, we have mopped the floor (which turns out to be shades of orange, not brown), cleaned the microwave and all of the counters, and filled eight trash bags with more detritus.

I know a lot about bacteria and germs, so this is all very challenging for me.

Dell has barely finished bringing up the stuff from the garage when Pattie hands him another list and shoves him back out the door.

Quang-ha stays with us.



Everything in Dell’s apartment looks gray.

This is because someone put a canvas tarp over the skylight in the living room. Probably to cut down on air-conditioning costs or something.

Now that tarp is coated in atmospheric dirt. Mold and mildew stains rim the edges where water must collect.

So when you are in Dell’s living room, no matter what the weather is outside, overhead it appears that a CAT-5 hurricane has just descended.

Pattie has her hands on her hips and she’s squinting up at the covered skylight.

She says:

“It’s not right.”

The look on Pattie’s face isn’t good.

I stare up with her.

It’s like a giant dirty diaper is on the ceiling.

She calls for Quang-ha, who has just been given a large plastic garbage bag of wine and beer bottles (found under the bathroom sink) to take downstairs.

Pattie points skyward.

“I want you to go up onto the roof and take off the tarp.”

In a month, I’ve never seen Quang-ha happy, so his current scowl is just more of the same. He says: “You just told me to throw away these bottles.”

Pattie says:

“Do both.”

I feel bad for him and offer:

“I’ll help.”

Quang-ha doesn’t want my assistance. But his standard operating procedure is to ignore me. Completely.

And I’m okay with that.

Now he grabs the heavy bag and heads to the door.

I follow.