the room with him. She smelled like an old dress. And she was whispering.
Listen to Grandma.
Special Ed got out of bed.
His feet didn’t feel the cold wooden floor. He went to the window. He opened it and looked at the wet snow gathered on the windowsill. He gathered it in his hand and made a snowball. Perfectly round. Perfectly smooth. Like the Earth. It didn’t make his hands cold for some reason. It felt nice, actually. Like cotton candy from Kennywood put in the freezer.
Don’t eat too much, Eddie. Your stomach will get sick. Listen to Grandma.
Special Ed closed the window. He hadn’t felt how cold his face was getting in the frosty air. But now his cheeks were red, and he wanted a glass of water. Not bathroom water. Kitchen water. Special Ed walked down the hallway. He passed his father sleeping in the guest bedroom. The snowball was melting in his hand, dripping little water spots on the hardwood floor like a trail of bread crumbs. Special Ed passed his mother sleeping in the master bedroom.
“Why do you sleep in different beds?” he asked his mother once.
“Because your father snores, honey,” she said, and he believed her.
Special Ed walked down the stairs. He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of kitchen water. He used his favorite glass. Hulk…drink! He drank it up in ten seconds. He still felt thirsty. He drank another. And another. He felt like he was getting a fever. But he didn’t feel bad. He just felt hot. It was just so stuffy in this kitchen.
I can’t breathe, Eddie. Go outside. Listen to Grandma.
Special Ed opened the sliding glass door.
He stood there, filling his lungs with cold Popsicle air. For a moment, it took away the stuffiness. And he didn’t feel like his grandmother with the tubes in her nose making him promise never to smoke like her. He wondered if his grandmother had been buried alive and couldn’t breathe in her coffin. Was she knocking on her coffin lid right now? He walked into the backyard and sat on the swing hanging from the old oak tree like a Christmas ornament. What did his grandmother call ornaments again? Something from an old song she liked.
Strange fruit, Eddie.
Special Ed just sat there, thinking about his grandmother as he packed the snowball tighter and tighter. He put the snowball at the bottom of the old oak tree. And he made another snowball. And another. And another. He thought he might need them to defend Christopher and the tree house. Because people take things that don’t belong to them. Bad people like Brady Collins.
A man must protect his friends, Eddie. Listen to Grandma.
When Special Ed finished the last snowball, he looked down and realized he had made a little clearing around the old oak tree. The grass was green and crunchy with frost. And there was a little stack of snowballs like the cannonballs that he had seen on the field trip about the Revolutionary War.
Good guys win wars, Eddie.
He couldn’t remember where he heard it, but he was pretty sure that the word “infantry” came from the word “infant.” Just like how the word “kindergarten” came from the German word “kinder,” meaning “child,” and “garden.” So, everyone in the infantry was just some mother’s infant.
That made sense.
Special Ed went back inside. He closed the sliding glass door, locking the chill outside. He looked into the kitchen and saw the cupboard door was slightly open. Was it always like that? Or did someone just open it? Just a little? Like a coffin lid with an eye peeking out to look at the living. A dead person trying to remember what food tastes like because skeletons don’t have tongues. He remembered when they had to take out his grandma’s tongue from her being sick with cancer. His grandmother couldn’t speak. So, she wrote things down on pieces of paper.
I miss the taste of Dutch apple pie, Eddie.
Eat some apple pie for me, Eddie. Listen to Grandma.
Special Ed went to the refrigerator. He cut a big slice of Dutch apple pie. He looked at the milk carton with the picture of that missing girl on it. Emily Bertovich. He closed the refrigerator and stared at his reading test stuck on the door with four magnets like Jesus on the cross. It was the first time his test was good enough to move from the junk drawer to the fridge. His first A. Special Ed smiled and