Nicholas by James W. Morris

Charles D called me neurodivergent, which he thought was a good insult but I told him it just meant I wasn’t average, which I’m not. He was flummoxed. A good word, flummoxed. It’s in my Favorite Words book.

Then I remembered to smile knowingly at Charles D, which is something Aunt told me to do with bullies or attempted bullies. Aunt, as she always tells me, knows her shit. Charles D eventually wandered away.

Aunt took me in when Dad died (Mom’s location unknown). Cause of death was organ failure but isn’t it always? A liver fails when you drink too much. A brain fails when a bullet is shot into it. Lungs fail when you drown.

Made a note. Find out a more specific cause of death for Dad.

I have three different routes I take to get home from school depending on the day. Mondays and Wednesdays, I go straight up Fitzwatertown Road then turn right on Davisville Road then turn left onto our street, McGee Avenue. Tuesdays and Thursdays (since Aunt goes to grad school class those nights), I veer off Fitzwatertown to the Westgate Shopping Center and buy a hoagie for dinner, then proceed the rest of the way like I do on Mondays and Wednesdays. Fridays I leave school at one thirty and take a bus to see Doctor G.

It was Tuesday, so I veered off and went to Tony’s Pizza and Hoagie’s.

Nicholas, Tony said by way of greeting. Must be Tuesday.

Your apostrophe issue persists, I said.

Costs too much to change sign. Like you know, Tony said.

Tony did not need to ask what my order was. He just started making it. Cheesesteak hoagie with fried onions and mayonnaise. This is the perfect meal, as it contains all the food groups plus bonus grease (ha ha). No. There are grains (roll) and meat (meat) and vegetables (onions and tomato and lettuce) and dairy (cheese and mayo).

Tony’s name is not Tony. It is Emad. He used Tony because it sounded Italian and pizza and hoagie places in the Philadelphia area are traditionally owned by Italian immigrants, even though there was no law saying it must be so that I knew of. I have tried to get Tony/Emad to teach me Arabic but he won’t.

Stick to English, he said. It’s okay for you.

I looked up at the familiar menu posted over Tony/Emad’s head. Some of the choices had been given people’s names. There was a Chelsea and a Decker. Chelsea was named after an employee who worked weekends that everyone liked a lot. A Chelsea is what they call in other establishments an Italian hoagie. It has some hot stuff on it. Decker was the last name of an old man who used to come in every day before he died. It is not a hoagie but more like a BLT. Get it? Like a triple decker.

Tony/Emad would not tell me how a person qualified for the honor of having a sandwich named after them. He always waved the question off.

I once heard another customer call Chelsea flirty, which is a good word. I put in in my book. I doubted that I could earn a hoagie honor that way though. Flirting was not in my wheelhouse. Plus, I thought I was getting a zit.

As for Mister Decker, I decided I was not dying just to get a hoagie named after me.

On the way home, I thought about the story from an English writer that we just read in class. I got two words out of it for my book of favorites. Whereupon and banjaxed. Most people know that whereupon means “as a result of,” though hardly anyone ever uses it. Banjaxed is more uncommon and it means “ruined, broken, or exhausted.” I really liked the sound of it.

I left Tony’s. After turning off Fitzwatertown onto Davisville, I walked a few yards and came up on a driveway where an unoccupied car was sitting with its engine running. It was half blocking the pavement and the driver’s door was open. When I got around the car I saw that a young guy and an old lady were wrestling on the ground.

The young guy was winning, which seemed really unfair. I walked up behind him and slung my bookbag at his head to even things up. It hit him harder than I thought it would, I guess because my American History textbook which is really thick was in the bottom of the bag.

The guy rolled off the old lady and ran away before I got a chance to smile at him knowingly.

*

Our streaming service added a channel that was all Doctor Who all the time. It was my plan to watch them in order. I started a Doctor Who Book to make notes on each episode. I especially liked the cheesy older ones where you can tell the sets are cardboard. 

At 6:07 pm Aunt texted to say how was school and she and her friends were going out for a drink after class ok? Sure, I texted back. School ok. I was asleep dreaming of daleks probably when she got home.

Early in the morning there was a knock on the door. Aunt answered and spent several minutes speaking in low tones to whoever was there. Finally, she came into the kitchen where I was eating breakfast with two smiling strangers behind her.

Nicholas, Aunt said. What’s this about you saving an old lady from being carjacked yesterday?

*

I’m not going into detail about all that happened after that except to say that I found the whole experience embarrassing and disruptive to my routine.

I missed going to school for the rest of the week.

First, I spent several hours on Wednesday in the police station making a statement. The detectives were a man and a woman and I could tell they were trying hard to be nice but even so conversing with strangers is not in my wheelhouse. Aunt stayed with me, which helped.

I spent a little uncomfortable time on the phone with the old lady who insisted on saying thank you. I said you’re welcome. Neither one of us could think of much to say after that.

On Thursday, Aunt got permission for me to stay home from school to be interviewed by a local TV station. I didn’t want to do this and initially stayed in my room. Then I started thinking about Aunt. Sometimes Doctor G and I do an exercise where I speculate about what other people might think and feel. In other words, I knew Aunt would like me to do the interview.

I want to show you off, Aunt said. Even if you only speak two sentences.

So, a fat guy with lights and a camera came into our living room followed by a reporter. The reporter was a lady who smiled a lot and smelled nice like flowers. They turned on the camera and the reporter asked me to describe what happened in my own words.

I hit him with American history, I said. Whereupon he was banjaxed.

Having spoken my two sentences, I got up and went back to my room.

*

Aunt had me watch the news that night with her. When I saw myself on the TV I didn’t like it. My head looked weird from the side. And I kept putting my finger over the place where I knew I was getting a zit.

After I said my two sentences and left the room, the story ended and the two news anchors looked at each other, smiling.

Man of few words, one of them said.

Friday I was in the newspaper. Aunt showed me. The headline was Would-be Carjacker “Banjaxed” by American History.

Why is banjaxed in quotes? I asked Aunt.

Well they are quoting you, she said. Or maybe because it’s such an unusual word.

I went early to see Doctor G instead of going to school. She and I had an extra-long session and we agreed that it was okay for the public to be interested in a kid who saved a lady, and it was okay for Aunt to be proud of me even if I was embarrassed, and it was also okay for me to say when I’d had enough attention.

Doctor G always helps me, and by Saturday I was feeling less anxious and mostly normal again.

That Monday was completely regular. I came across a funny new word to add to my favorites. Bumf. It is a shortened version of “bum fodder” and means “literature so worthless it could only be used as toilet paper.” 

Since the next day was Tuesday, on the way home I veered to Tony’s Pizza and Hoagie’s.

Tony/Emad glanced up only briefly when I entered.

Nicholas, he said by way of greeting. Must be Tuesday.

Your apostrophe issue persists, I said.

Costs too much to change sign. Like you know, Tony/Emad said.

He started making my order. While Tony/Emad worked, I looked up at the familiar menu posted over his head. The item previously called a cheesesteak hoagie was now called a Nicholas.

James W Morris

Image: Valoem, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons – cheesesteak Hoagie with chopped onions on a white napkin.