The Title of This Story is The Title

I wanted to stay home alone—I needed to finish my science project for the following week. But I didn’t get a chance to do so! I was interrupted. See, Mom went to see Dad’s gravestone again. So Grandma took me to school, and then we went to the carnival and fair on Saturday before she flew back to Ottawa on Sunday! 

Ugh!    

My science fair project was almost done, so Mom promised we could go to the Dinosaur Museum in Washington D.C. Dinosaurs were my favorite prehistorical animal—their colossal bone replicas give you a majestic view of what they were like. Remember what the insanely cool T-Rex or stealthily clever Stegosaurus could do, especially when battling each other or fighting over land or water holes? These beasts were born to tackle each other, fighting tooth and nail—literally—every single time water or food called their name!   

Dinosaurs are my jam. Whenever I turn in homework, especially science fair projects, the teachers know it’s me—I draw a dinosaur on the line after Name.

But were there dinosaurs to be seen this week or weekend?

Oh no. Mom told me in advance that Grandma was going to pick me up for the fair, carnival and library after a dreaded week of classes and boring bus rides. What’s wrong with staying cooped up in my bedroom, decorating my awesome dinosaur project that was due so soon?

“You can always finish it this weekend, Drew.” My mother had reminded me more than once that morning as she dropped me off at school.

I had nodded stiffly and shut the minivan’s door. As I headed into J. J. Redstone Middle School, Richard and his goons lounged near the metal bike rack placed right outside Redstone’s front entrance. I wilted, feeling even more like a puny little grub bug for a colossal T-Rex to swallow whole with evil satisfaction.

“Hey, Dino Boy!” Richard—

You know what. I’m going to skip right to the part where Grandma was walking to her flight gate, waving us goodbye as she left for home way up in the chilly woods of Canada. I felt a hand on my back and peered up at my mom’s profile.

“Aw, Mom—don’t cry. She’ll be back.” I side-hugged her, and she pressed a firm hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Oh, honey.” As we headed back to the car, my mother brushed tears from her eyes and cheeks. “I don’t really see her much. She lives so far away.”

“She did want us to move up there.”

I secretly wanted to, too. Maybe I’d have some friends for once and, thus, get away from those stupid bullies shoving my dinosaur creations into other people’s lockers, leaving me with another big fat F right across from Science on my report card. It wasn’t fair.

“Yes…she did.”

The sigh gave me hope!

“Mom.” I asked from the backseat of her minivan while she drove.

“What is it? You need materials for that dinosaur landscape you’ve been talking about nonstop for the last three days? I can run to Target and Michael’s.”

“No—I was wondering whether you wanted to…move. Maybe this Christmas.”       

A long, long silence followed this monstrously huge question. I don’t think a T-Rex would ever be able to top this size of a question. Maybe, if he grew a little taller. Or bigger.

Maybe I should’ve stayed quiet. My mother dreaded watching her mother leave again. Canada and New Jersey were far apart anyway, and Ottawa was probably a thousand miles from Edison. I didn’t quite have a lightbulb spring above my head whenever I had an idea, but I knew moving was better than being bullied until I’m dead. I could always win the science fairs at my new school. Besides, we’d be closer to Grandma, so Mom could always travel to her house while I work on my projects, right? It’d be a win-win situation for both of us!

“Honey,” Mom was pulling into the driveway. “I think you want to move so you can—”

“No, Mom, I wanted to get my science project done alone! Grandma came, and I didn’t get a chance to do my best. Richard slammed me against my locker, a crooked grin on his dark-eyed face. I was scared he’d destroy my dinosaur diorama, so I have no idea whether it made it to the science fair. I think one of my teachers lamented Rich threw it away!”  

 “So it’s Grandma’s fault!”   

Mom’s edgy voice scared me. I wanted to bolt away from here. Doing my best in Science was great, but there was always something I had to give up.

“You knew I wanted to stay home alone and then go to the Dinosaur Museum with you! You always make things so dumb. Why can’t you ever think of me for once—”

“Drew, you’re only ten! We’re not having this discussion again. I planned, Grandma came and we—”

After Mom parked the car in the driveway, I waited a few seconds for the stupid door to roll faster, and then lunged out onto the pavement and dashed away. My mother’s frantic voice followed me as I ran between Fall’s beautiful gold and red trees about to die and become naked all winter long. Her panic finally faded away, and I jerked to the right, throwing myself behind a huge tin trashcan.

And snuck a peek. Richard was heading my way!  

He was showing off to some of his buddies on his Moped Scooter. Doing all these tricks with his back bent this way and his legs thrown that way. His arms and hands twisted and spun all sorts of ways. As I slowly backed away, I dashed away to the left. Hopefully, his buddies just stayed laughing at his stupid moves. Hopefully, they’d stay away from me.

Forever.

Anyway, I kept running and running, soon huffing and puffing. I spotted one of my classmate’s houses not too far down the road, I knocked my small fist on Michael’s door and waited. Finally, the door opened, and Michael waved me in. I nodded gratefully, and he told me to go upstairs and hide in the spare bedroom closet. I did so.      

Hiding in there was somewhat of a weird story. I sat crunched between plastic garbage bags of Christmas and Hanukkah decorations and winter clothes and accessories. I started feeling terrible for ignoring Mom. She was probably calling every mother she knew whose kid was in my class or at least goes to my school. Michael’s mother better not come bounding up the stairs, searching for me and then staring in surprise upon seeing another kid from Redstone in her son’s closet!             

Suddenly, the door opened.       

“Hey, man!”

“Hey.” My melancholy voice hopefully didn’t turn on the waterworks. Michael turned and placed two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on his bed and asked whether I was okay.

“Are you okay?” I retorted, my anger hopefully shutting his mouth. But he looked me dead in the eye.  

“Look, man. I’ve been in the same spot as you—lonely, afraid and weird. But I thought you might need a friend to help you through the tough times.”    

I looked at him, confused. How come he didn’t protect me all this time?

“Drew, hear me out. You’re great at listening because, no offense, but it’s basically all you do at school.” As this classmate of mine poured out his past of having just moved from Ottawa and settling down to hopefully make best friends, my eyes lost their dagger look. I relaxed. After Michael finished, I said I wanted to move to Ottawa.   

“I’m a lonely dinosaur being mistreated by terrorizing pterodactyls. No one cares about me. I guess…I guess I’m too scientific.”    

Michael stared at me a few seconds, took a bite of his sandwich and then, to my relief, threw out a loud laugh. Then we both started cracking up. He reached back and handed me my peanut butter sandwich. “So what?”      

“Mom promised us we’d take a trip to D.C. to see the coolest dinosaur skeletons of all time! But she then said my grandmother had come to stay with me for the week and weekend. I wanted to do my science fair project all on my own. However, Grandma wanted to go to the fair and carnival. I took a bite out of my sandwich, thanking Michael. “I just want to believe in myself. Not just be a science whiz. I just know Richard’s going to a prestigious university after high school. Although he’s the meanest, roughest bully ever.”      

“Hm.” Michael bit into his sandwich and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Well, I’ve always wanted to be a comedian. But,” he shrugged, “I dunno.”             

“Well,” I pointed out, “you are funny!”

Another gesture of doubt. “Only when I’m around other kids. I have such stage fright.”

“I can’t hold a microphone,” I laughed, “let alone get on stage, to sell beans!”

“For beans!”  

We almost choked on our sandwiches.

We moved to his Spiderman bed. I told him it wasn’t that I didn’t like my grandmother. I had the perfect opportunity to prove my diorama to be just that—the project to win the day. Michael immediately put down his plate and threw his arm around me. “Don’t worry about it, man!”

I pursed my lips, sighing inwardly. Easy for him to say.

I found myself obsessing over the tiniest details of the project. I was allowed to redo it, but I wanted it to be the best. I couldn’t let myself down this time, and no Richard or his goons was going to mess up this awesome assignment. Michael threatened to move to another table one cold wintry day in the cafeteria if I didn’t just settle down and eat my salad!

As I picked at the tomatoes and played with the lettuce that looked a little rotten, I started feeling I may have been rude to Grandma that week. No, I felt terrible that I actually told her over and over I had to do my project—

“Hey, Drew!”

Nothing.

“Earth to Drew.”

I slid my eyes up from my food, telling Michael I was really sorry for disrespecting my grandmother. He punched me in the shoulder. I laughed, but he said it’d be better if I had peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I gestured for him to sit beside me. He shook his head, pointing at my salad. I asked him what was so important about some green stuff mixed with some red stuff that I didn’t even like. He covered his mouth and started cracking up! I threw my hands apart, demanding him to give it up. His eyes squeezed shut, and he held his stomach. After a minute, he tried telling me to look in my salad. I did—and gasped. Some jelly stared at me from the bottom of the bowl. I looked over at the cafeteria lunch lady, and she nodded and waved me over. I went over there, and she told me she accidentally dropped some jelly into my salad.

“But,” she shrugged, “at least it wasn’t a totally sticky situation!”

I nodded at her lame pun. She cracked up, sent me back over to sitting across from Michael, and continued serving other students. Michael continued laughing. “Hey,” I pointed out, “At least it’ll make me think of our favorite sandwiches. Maybe we’ll get them tomorrow.”

He returned to his salad and chicken nuggets. “Yeah…if we ever get that day.”

“We can always bring our own lunches. Let’s ask Mom to rearrange our lunch schedule for the rest of this year and eighth grade, too, okay?”

He nodded, but his grey eyes glimmered with reluctance.

I pursed my lips. Was I too annoying for Michael? Why couldn’t he just have a little fun? I hoped he wasn’t frustrated. He said he worried about telling his parents tonight about a bad grade in Science. That, I piped up, could help you with. He smiled, grateful.

I called Grandma that night after stuffing my completed math and history homework in my backpack.      

“Oh, honey! I should’ve let you do that assignment. I couldn’t believe it when I got onto the plane. I said to myself, Drew must be extremely upset that he didn’t get to complete his project! Oh my goodness. I need to apologize! I tried when I returned home, but I got distracted by bills and taking Moxie out for a little stroll around the park. Then your grandfather walked through the door, and we spent the evening watching old westerns. I’m so sorry!”   

“Grandma,” I said, “it’s fine. I’m doing it again, and I’m presenting it tomorrow. I just need some finishing touches. My friend Michael’s coming over this weekend to play video games and go to the movies with Mom and me. I’ll show him my dinosaur-themed, volcanic set. It represents the prehistorical times!”    

“Is that so?” Grandpa chimed in. “Have you seen Jurassic Park?”

“Yes, sir,” I answered politely.

“Good job!”            

I thanked him, and then let Grandma speak the rest of the time.

Once I was staring up at the frustratingly white concrete ceiling that was more colorless than our driveway, I was glad Michael became my friend. He may not share classes with me, but we were bus buddies and he laughed about my weirdness at lunch. We did homework at my house and ate dinner and played video games at his house on the weekends and holidays. We’d also pack peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for snacks every day.

When the movie turned boring, Michael told me his grandmother never saw him. His grandfather passed away four months ago, and his grandmother has been depressed ever since. She doesn’t even go outside, his parents say. I nodded slowly, listening to him. Then I deflated. At least my grandmother was happy. She deserved better, I knew. I valued my science project over her.                   

I told him Dad had passed away. Grandma’s departures were so heavy on Mom, as they reminded her of Dad’s leaving for a business trip and then the call saying the plane had crashed right into the ocean. Unfortunately, Dad had another panic attack in the water, and his stuff was returned to our house. But not him. Mom has been despondent, especially when seeing his pre-sold stuff. Then, my mind tortured me with having run away.      

I had slighted my grandmother and my mother. Was Michael next?    

While his mother drove us to their house for pizza, ice cream and a sleepover, Michael told me to start looking ahead instead of always focusing on the past. Grandpa isn’t coming back, and neither is Dad. We can’t redo the past. “Drew, you’re victimized by your own desire to be more than just a bullied failure. That’s why you’re running from everyone and everything. You can’t just hide behind a dinosaur diorama forever; you’ll eventually have to stand up to your fears.”

I talked to Mom tomorrow night, and she squeezed me tight. I promised I’ll never leave her again. She nodded understandingly. The winter holidays came and went, but so did a little of the gloom my mother wore like makeup. She was self-employed, so she told me one night that on one of her breaks, she talked to Michael’s mother.

“Maybe she could use a little help.”

I digressed. How could a sad person cheer up a depressed person? I soon grew really tired of the constant waterfall of tears cascading down Mom’s cheeks. I shared some of Michael’s wisdom. She smiled, but it faded into a frown.

“Mom, we can’t undo the past. We have to move forward.”

“I know, honey. It’s just…I miss him.”

“I’ll be an adult in eight years. I don’t want to leave you sad. Just like the prehistoric times are over, our pasts are in the past.”    

“Two will be gone!”

I sighed, staring at the marble counter. She sniffed, saying Michael’s parents would watch me whenever she visited Dad’s gravestone. “Michael’s parents will help you with homework and buy your groceries, okay?” I saw my mother wiped forming tears from her eyes and started making dinner.     

I nodded and started on my homework.

I soon found myself doing great in school and winning every Science Fair project! Mom was so proud of me. The tissue box was left alone more and more--her eyes didn’t fill with tears as much. She even said Michael’s grandmother would get out of bed with a little smile on her face! Michael’s mother was really glad she was helping Mom pull herself out of the deep darkness of depression in which she had slipped ever since Grandpa’s passing.    

On the first day of ninth grade, he shoved me against my own locker, laughing loud and long at my skinny self. I shoved him backward, freeing myself. Shocked, he stood there, narrowed his eyes, and then walked away. Some of his buddies punched him on the shoulder, ordering him to leave me alone. Richard ignored them and headed towards a classroom with loud, uncontrollable students like an oblivious T-Rex walking right towards an erupting volcano.

But I didn’t see what happened next. I simply bumped fists with a congratulatory Michael once he caught up with me, and we headed to Science together.

That weekend, Mom, Michael’s mother, his grandmother, and I all went to the Dinosaur Museum.

When asked about this event, I braced myself, hoping Grandma didn’t still think I was that weird dinosaur kid still obsessing about prehistoric times. But when I explained how awesome those replicas were, she told me I wasn’t little Dino Boy anymore.

“You’re just sharing the adventure with me!”