"Normal?" He laughed the hardest he had.
"Well. I don't know much about you, except what I've heard on the rumor network."
"And what have you heard exactly? Go on, tell me." he urged, seeing my hesitation. "It's okay. I'm a big boy and I have the skin of an alligator."
"I know your mother's Haitian."
"And practices voodoo," he said,
"Really?"
He laughed at how quickly I believed what he said.
"No. but I enjoy fanning the flames of stupid prejudice. My father is a jazz musician. He's away from home twenty or so days a month. I have a sister who is studying to be a terrorist, I think. She's fourteen and goes to public school here. She already has a record some of your hardened urban criminals would envy. Last night I found ecstasy pills in her room. I flushed them down the toilet and didn't tell my mother, not that it would do much good if I did tell her."
"Why not?"
He looked away a moment and was so quiet. I thought he wasn't going to explain. But then he turned back to me, his eyes smaller, darker. "You ever wonder if animals get reincarnated as people? You know, you look at someone and say he or she reminds you of a bird or a hog or something?"'
"Yes," I said smiling.
"My mother is definitely a reincarnated ostrich. Her head is buried so far down..."
"Oh."
"I'm sure there is a psychological term your mother could apply."
I nodded and said. "I'm sorry."
"I'm tired of being my father, know what I mean?"
"I think so." I offered. but I really didn't. I had few if any adult responsibilities and was fighting to be given some.
He smirked and then turned it quickly into a smile. "Anyway, why talk about depressing things? All that does is depress you."
I was happy to agree to that and ate another French fry. We just stared at each other for a long moment. I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. Why was I here? How interested in him was I really?
"What?" I finally asked.
"I don't know if you have the time, but I'd like you to hear a song I wrote far my guitar. I thought of everyone in that school, you'd be someone who might appreciate it. Not that I'm saying I'm that great or anything."
"I don't think I'm any authority on the subject. but I would like to hear it very much," I said.
"Okay. I'm not far. Actually, just a block down and to the left. I walked here rather than take my moped."
I glanced at my watch. By now Miguel and my mother were surely wondering where I was. It was unlike me not to let them know where I was going, especially when I had Mommy's car. I thought about calling on my cell phone. but I knew they would be upset and would want me to come to the hospital immediately or go home immediately. Better I call them after I hear Heyden's song, I thought.
"I'm ready." I announced, taking my last bite of my hamburger. "Great."
We got into Mommy's car and I pulled out of the parking lot. "First time I've ever been in a Mercedes," he said.
"It's the only car I've ever driven. It's my mother's car. My parents want me to get a job before they'll get me my own car."
The nerve of them." he quipped.
"Actually," I said. "it's not that important to me."
"As long as you get to use this when you want, huh?"