Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Michael Perry climbed aboard bus 312 on a mission. The bus driver, Big Max, as he was known, smiled and greeted him with a, “How’s my favorite kindergartner today?”

“Good,” Michael smiled, hoping his dimple was especially adorable this afternoon. “I have a note from my dad. I’m supposed to go to his friend Miss Melody’s house today instead of Ms. Karen’s.” He held out the carefully typewritten note he’d taken most of the evening before to create, hoping it sounded like something a grown up might write, and waited.

“Is that a fact?” Big Max asked, taking the note from his mittened hand. “Let’s see here.” He read over the note and then looked at Michael, who was doing his best to look innocent. “Well, okay then. That’s on my route. Take a seat, kiddo.”

Michael nodded and made his way to his usual seat next to Hailey who was also in kindergarten but not in his class, hoping that Big Max had actually fallen for his scheme. It had been almost a week since he’d seen Miss Melody, and even though he’d asked his dad every day if they could go visit, he always said no. He said grown ups didn’t like it when people just stopped by unannounced. Michael said they could call first, but his dad said he didn’t have her phone number.

As the bus began to move, Michael leaned back in his seat. Hailey had long blonde hair, and he thought it might feel nice to wrap it around his hand and give it a tug. But he didn’t. His dad said that wasn’t nice, and young ladies should always be treated with respect. She smiled at him, a gap in the middle of her top teeth showing her pink tongue, and Michael began to wiggle his own loose tooth with his finger wondering when he might lose one himself.

Miss Melody was the nicest lady he’d ever met. She was pretty and sweet. She had gotten mad at him for playing the piano, but she forgave him. Even though he hadn’t seen her for a while, he’d been thinking about her a lot, wondering what she was doing, if she was smiling, if she was thinking of him. She was so pretty, and he wondered if she had ever thought about being a mommy. He just knew she’d be really good at it.

The bus made its way down the street where Ms. Karen’s house was, and Michael looked straight ahead, hoping that Big Max wouldn’t stop. Ms. Karen kept other kids at her house, but they were all smaller than Michael, and only one went to school. She was in pre-k and only went in the morning. There should be no reason for Big Max to stop at Ms. Karen’s house if he wasn’t stopping for Michael.

As the bus turned onto Washington Avenue, Michael couldn’t help but smile. Big Max was taking him to see Miss Melody.

There were a few stops before Michael could even see Miss Melody’s house, and it seemed like the other kids were taking forever to climb off of the bus. Finally, Big Max brought the vehicle to a halt in front of Miss Melody’s house. He could see her blue car in the driveway, so he knew she was home. He grabbed his backpack and made his way down the aisle, careful not to look too eager. As he passed by the driver he called, “Thanks Big Max. Have a good night.” The door opened with a squeal, and Michael climbed down the few steps. Deciding he better hurry before someone caught on to him, he began to run across the yard, up the thick brick steps, to Miss Melody’s porch. He pulled open the screen door, and thinking it might look suspicious if he had to knock, he turned the knob, hoping it was unlocked.

Melody was upstairs in the hallway shuffling some boxes around so that she could get the antique school desk to the stairs when she heard the front door open. Thinking it odd that her mother would be home so early, she put the box of collectibles she had in her hands down carefully on the ground and slid her way through the mess to the stairs. “Mom?” she shouted from the top of the stairs.

She wasn’t expecting the sound she heard next.

“Hi, Miss Melody! It’s me—Michael!” came a familiar high-pitched voice, and Melody’s eyes doubled in size.

“Michael?” she shouted, hurrying down the stairs. She saw him standing next to the front door about the time she made it halfway down the stairs. He was still wearing his backpack, and since Reid didn’t appear to be with him, she was completely confused. “What are you doing here? Where’s your dad?”

“I don’t know. At work, I guess,” he replied nonchalantly, smiling up at her. “I’ve been asking to come see you forever, and he said no, so I decided to come by myself.”

Melody could hardly believe her ears. “Michael, sweetie, where are you supposed to be right now?” she stooped so that she was at his eye-level.

“Ms. Karen’s,” he said with a shrug. “But I don’t really like it there. All the babies cry all the time, and we have to watch Nickelodeon. I don’t really like it much. I’d rather come and visit you. Do you have any cookies?”

Her head swirling from so much information, Melody took a deep breath before attempting to figure out what to do. “Honey, I’m sure that Ms. Karen is probably wondering where you are. You didn’t tell her you were coming here, did you?”

“No. Big Max dropped me off.”

“Who is Big Max?”

“He’s the bus driver. He’s really nice,” Michael explained, still smiling. “Can I take my coat off?”

Ignoring the question, Melody continued with her inquiry. “You just told him to bring you here and he did?”

“Well, no. I had a note. It’s kinda warm in here.”

“Where did you get a note?”

“My dad.” No longer awaiting permission, Michael slumped out of his backpack, which fell on the floor behind him, and wiggled out of his coat.

“Your dad said you couldn’t come over, and then he wrote you a note?” Melody asked.

“Nah, I wrote it. I like chocolate chip best, but any cookies will do. Or fruit snacks. I like fruit snacks, too.”

Melody realized now what had happened, and without pausing to consider why Michael would do something so deceitful in order to see her again, she reached for his backpack. “Do you know your dad’s phone number? Or is it in here?”

“I don’t know,” Michael shrugged again. “I don’t think it’s in there. Hey, you put out some new Santas!”

Michael darted off into the living room where she had gotten a bit more decorating done this week, and Melody unzipped his blue Jake and the Neverland Pirates backpack. Inside, she found a lunch box and a red folder. Though the folder contained a few worksheets from school and a progress report for the day showing that Michael had earned a green smiley face, there was no contact information for Reid in the folder or on the backpack. She looked at the inside of Michael’s jacket, but it only had his name written on there.

Setting the backpack and coat against the wall by the door, Melody entered the living room to see Michael moving around some of the Santas she’d set up on a side table. “Michael, do you know Ms. Karen’s phone number? Or her address?”

“Nope. Hey, Miss Melody, could I have a snack now?”

“Yes, honey, in a minute. I just… have to figure out how to call your dad.”

Michael’s face fell. “Why? You don’t want me to visit?”

Stepping over toward him, Melody put her arm around his shoulders. “Oh, no, honey. It’s not that. I just don’t want your dad or Ms. Karen to be worried.”

“Okay,” Michael said, but his tone didn’t sound too convincing.

Unsure exactly what else she could do, Melody took her cell phone out of her pocket and called her mother. Praying that she would answer, she waited a few rings, and was relieved to hear her mom’s voice. “Mom, do you happen to have the handyman’s phone number? Reid?”

Her mother seemed to be thinking because it took an extra long time for her to answer. “No, darling. I don’t have it. Why, did we lose another door knob?”

The light tone of her mother’s voice was suddenly very irritating. “No, Mom. His son is here, and I need to get ahold of him. ASAP.”

“His son?” she asked, her tone changing rapidly. “What do you mean?”

“Mom, I don’t have time to explain. What about Mrs. Gregory? She’d have Reid’s number wouldn’t she?”

“I’m sure she would,” Sarah replied. “Do you have her number?”

“No,” Melody sighed. She crossed the room to a desk where she began to pull out a pad of paper and a pen as she asked, “Can you give it to me?”

“Yes, dear.” Her mom rattled off Mrs. Gregory’s phone number from memory, and Melody realized her mother had a talent unique to her era.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Let me know how it goes,” Sarah insisted.

“Will do,” Melody replied as she disconnected the call.