Sore Thumbs by Sterling Anderson
class. He didn’t like to look people in the eye for too long. It made him nervous, sometimes because he didn't want
people to think he was staring, but mostly because he didn't like people staring back at him.
“OK.” Evan replied, but that was all. He didn’t move for his backpack, he didn’t straighten up to better reach
into his pocket. It made Mike twinge a little when he heard it, like maybe he should have asked nicer.
“So do you have it? C-can I get it?” He stammered. Maybe he had come off too strong?
Evan still didn’t move. “I don’t have it with me. I’ll get it to you later, ok?” He said it with a relaxed voice that
didn’t relax Mike at all.
Mike hadn’t known Evan very long, not long enough to know what might happen. He was excited when the
new boy was introduced to the class. He thought maybe he could make a good first impression before someone else
made it for him. Evan was taller than most kids and his buzzed haircut gave his head a perfectly round look to it. So
much so that when he smiled he looked like the smiley face from Wal-mart. He smiled a lot that first day, maybe his
mother had told him to. Mike wondered if he had smiled that much on his first day of school. Probably not, what’s
there to smile about for that long? If Mike had smiled for too long someone would have pointed it out and then the
kids would have given him a hard time for sticking out.
They didn’t speak for a while and Mike pretended to listen to the teacher. But inside he could only think
about why the other boy wouldn’t have his gameboy with him. Wouldn’t he know that I would want it back? If I were
borrowing someone’s stuff I would keep it with me so I could pull it out in a second if I had to. He scooted his chair
back and laid his forehead down on his desk. He liked the cool touch of the desk, for a moment he wondered what it
was made of. How did it stay so cool all the time? Is there something about plastic that keeps it cool? Or maybe it’s
some mix of fiberglass? Fiberglass is probably in everything. He had just learned about fiberglass a couple weeks
before and now he was trying to find it in everything. Whatever! He thought as his closing argument and moved on to
the next important thing to think about.
He wished he had a book he could hide under his desk, or his gameboy for that matter. Anything that could
distract him from Ms. Phelps writing on the projector and droning about theorems and triangles. Coming up with his
own distractions was more work. He would look at her every few minutes or so to help her feel like he was still
listening. He felt like as long as he would pretend to pay attention she wouldn’t bother him too often for not paying
attention. In Mike’s mind there was a whole system to it, every once in a while Mike would ask her to go over the last
part again because he didn’t quite understand her “method,” he thought it should sound to everyone like he was any
other student who only needed a little help once in a while. The first time he said method a couple kids in class turned
to look at him. He didn’t think much of it at the time.
After a while there was a break in the lesson and the whisper of students grew to a soft buzz. Mike
looked over at Evan again and saw him doodling on a paper. So he started the conversation again, “When can I get
it?” He tried to keep his tone soft, he was more worried about pushing Evan too hard then he was about the toy.
Evan didn’t look up from his drawing, “It’s at my house, I’ll try to bring it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“Oh, well, I’ll try to bring it on Monday then.”
Mike mumbled “ok” and looked down again, when people said “try” he would often think of Yoda: “Do or do
not, there is no try.” He might have quoted it, but he didn’t know if Evan would get the reference, or think it was funny.
It wasn’t funny to Mike, to Mike it was impossible for someone to try to put a gameboy in their backpack. Can you fail to pick it up? Would it fly out of your hands like a bar of soap? Mike laughed a little at that, just for a second. He
wasn’t happy that the other boy would only attempt to return his property. “How about I go over to your house on
Saturday? We can hang out if you want and then you don’t have to worry about bringing it.” He tried to keep his voice
light.
“Ummm…I think I’ll be home. Whatever.” Evan replied.
On the bus ride home Mike stared at the fields and empty lots while he planned out his agenda for the
weekend. Should he bring some kind of gift? Something to distract the new kid to soften the blow of being pestered
for his property back? What kind of gift would you need for that? You can’t bring brownies and say “hope you enjoy
these please give me my stuff back now.” Or can you? Maybe Evan has some cool stuff at his place that might be
worth checking out. If he was interested in the game boy he might have some other game system they could play
together. What if his parents are mean? Would they kick him out? Brownies might not be a bad idea. Or maybe gum?
something small like gum you can still give away as a treat without seeming like too much.
That’s a good idea, he thought. I’ll buy some gum on my way over.
It was easier to think on the bus, all the other kids needed to yell to be heard over the roar of the engine.
Then they had to yell louder to be heard over each other, Turning the whole cabin into a white noise machine of yelps
and laughter. The window was helpful too in much the same way. The bus rarely stopped for more than a minute. As
long as Mike didn’t focus his view on something too far distant it all became a blur with the occasional tree or house
whipping by. The sun was at the right angle too, in the late afternoon everything was taking in so many rays the
whole town was painted bright, it made Mike a little sleepy. One girl saw Mike smile as he thought about brownies.
She called him a fag just to see if he would react, her friends laughed, but he couldn’t hear her. The buzzing noise
and the glaring, fuzzy landscape made the ride almost comfortable, unless you tried to relax.
When Mike finally got home he reached for the money jar on his bedroom dresser. Just a washed out
peanut butter jar with a hole melted into the lid. He had filled it about a quarter of the way so there should be at least
three to five dollars in it. He figured he would probably only need two. Then he lay on his bed for a while. The nearby
window was open and through it he could hear the occasional passing car. Whenever he heard an engine that
lingered a little too long he would sit up and peek through the blinds to see if it was his mom. Sometimes she would
come home early just to see if she could catch him watching TV, he was sure of it. He’d been grounded indefinitely
until his performance “improved.” At this point he wasn’t sure if that just meant his grades or not. But to be on the safe
side he knew he had about fifteen seconds between her pulling into the driveway, parking the car in the garage and
walking by one of the kitchen windows to see him in the backyard doing something “productive.”
He lay there until he heard the garage door start to open, his original task of counting out change lost behind
a spilling of other ideas, plans & fantasies. The rumbling sound popped him out his bed and he made for the back
yard as quickly as possible. He thought he was pretty smooth. His mother could tell right away that he hadn’t started
any of the chores she had left for him.
“Mike! What have you been doing this whole time!” She snapped as she opened the door from the garage to
the yard. She already knew the answer, but the question came out anyway like a reflex.
“Geez!” He feigned surprise as he opened a storage tub full of dog food. His mother’s collie was running in a
circle in its cattle wire kennel. “I’m feeding your dog! What!” It didn’t seem out of place that they wouldn’t greet each
other. This had been their greeting ritual at least five times in the last couple weeks.
Mike’s mother knew that if the dog was only just being fed now, then the kitchen hadn’t been swept, the dishes and laundry weren’t put away, and the trash wasn’t taken out. She could have bet her next paycheck on it. But
she asked him about them anyway. Mike didn’t understand what was so important about doing the chores before his
mom got home. It never occurred to him to argue that there was still plenty of daylight hours left. He could only figure
out that she wanted the chores done when she wasn’t around to have to see it.
After a short lecture she sighed and went back inside. Mike lingered around the yard for a bit, trying to take
his mind off things. In a few minutes he figured she would cool down enough that he could sneak by and get his
other chores done without being yelled at. His mother was standing at the stove stirring a pot of water and chicken
when he came back into the kitchen. He had started moving the dishes in the dishwasher to their respective drawers
when she spoke.
“Are you ready for this Sunday?” she asked, without turning to look at him.
He didn’t pause from his work or turn to look back at her. “What’s this Sunday?”
She sighed again “I’ve already told you. We’re going horseback riding with my friend Scott.”
Mike hated Scott and he hated riding horses. Neither were very friendly to him. “Do I have to go?” he asked.
“It’s not like I’m going to leave you here alone and let you do nothing all day.” She scoffed at him.
He didn’t want to start another argument, “Whatever..” he mumbled.
That should have settled it, but instead his mom turned around to look at him. “What does that mean?” she
snapped at him, then, before giving him a chance to reply she asked again, “Are you ready or not?! Don’t say
whatever when I ask you a question! Whatever is not an answer!”
“Fine! geez!” Mike hissed back. He thought whatever was a perfectly acceptable answer. He didn’t agree
with the idea, but also didn’t want to argue about it further, so whatever!
His mother sighed again and turned back to her chicken. “Make sure your clothes are washed for Sunday
then.”
They worked for a few more minutes in silence, then Mike said “I’m gonna go see a friend tomorrow.”
That made his mother stop in surprise. “What friend is that?” she asked.
“There’s a new kid in my class named Evan, I lent him my gameboy.” Mike replied. “I’m just gonna go hang
out with him for a bit and get it back.”
“All right,” His mother paused, probably thinking about what other chores he might be ignoring. “Don’t stay
out too long, and make sure your homework gets done.”
Whatever. Mike thought quietly.
The next morning as Mike was riding his bike towards Evan’s house he let his mind wander. He thought
about the game he had lent along with his gameboy. What his favorite parts were and how Evan might have
struggled with one of the bosses. He thought about how hard he had tried to beat that boss and get the combo just
right that his thumbs and knuckles were sore afterwards. Kind of like how his knuckles were sore from holding the
handlebars.
He snapped out of it when he came up on Evan’s street. It was in an older part of town, near a park and city
hall, but the houses were new. Evan’s house was a two story with a nice step up to the entryway and a porch. It had
a light blue siding that Mike didn’t think was blue enough, too light to be a good blue color, but too blue to be anything
else. Mike imagined that the painters must have given up after one coat and that bugged him.
He started to feel a little nervous as he approached the door. A small voice in the back of his head told him
he was over thinking things but he ignored it. He worried about whether he was coming on too strong, it’s not like he had never heard the other kids when they called him names on the bus, or in the hall. He didn’t say anything because
he wasn’t sure how to react to get them to stop. In his mind he tried to keep count of all the things he might do that
made him stick out among the other kids. At this point, the only thing he could do was make a friend. If he just had
one friend in class he might fit in better. Evan hadn’t been around long enough to think he was weird. This had to go
well!
The door opening startled him so bad he made a little squeak. A little girl was staring up at him, he hadn’t
had a chance to ring the doorbell. Before he looked like a creep he choked out, “Does Evan live here?”
The girl looked at him for a moment, probably recovering from her own shock then called out for Evan. It
was an awkward moment while Mike waited on the front step trying not to look back at this kid who wouldn’t stop
looking at him. She finally walked out past him as Evan came from around a corner. There was a flash of surprise on
Evan’s face when he saw Mike standing there and he didn’t meet his eye as he as he leaned up against the doorway.
“Hey what’s up?”
The question made Mike mad. You know what up, he thought. “I said I would come by and get my gameboy today.”
“Right, ummm.. let me go check where it is.” with that Evan turned around and disappeared behind the same
corner, leaving Mike on the step twiddling his thumbs.
So Mike twiddled his thumbs, one would pop every once in a while as it stretched and he was reminded
how it had been sore over a week ago from playing his gameboy, it had gotten a cramp and he had sat with it sticking
out for a half hour. He thought it was weird to be left standing outside someone’s open door. He thought about how
Evan had blocked the doorway and didn’t invite him in. He wondered if he should try to stay and hang out or just
leave right after. He had gotten high hopes when Evan came he hadn’t really tried to get to know him too well before
offering his gameboy. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.
When Evan came back he was still empty handed and he leaned back up against the doorway, his tall frame
was a little lanky but it was enough that Mike couldn’t have gotten past if he tried. And seeing the other boy like that
made him feel like he shouldn’t try.
“So I uhhh remembered that I don’t have it right now.” Evan said, “ A friend in another class asked me if he
could see it and I haven’t gotten it back from him yet.” He smiled that stupid smile from his first day of school. It didn’t
seem so friendly anymore. “I can probably get it back to you next week, ok?”
Mike was stumped. For a second he just stood there trying to process it. He’d never heard of lending
something out that wasn’t yours, It sounded idiotic. He couldn’t imagine that Evan was dumb enough to do something
like that. He looked Evan in the eye for a second, trying to see if they could tell him how dumb he was, but Evan
looked away.
“Which friend is that?” Mike asked before the silence got too long.
Evan looked up past Mike and sighed, “Do you know Trevor Dallin?”
All Mike knew about a Trevor Dallin was that he had his own group of friends and had laughed at Mike once
in the hall, Mike thought it might have been because he was tying his shoe. “yeah sorta.”
“Well I’ll let him know you need it back… and maybe get it from him this week ok?” Mike stopped looking him
in face by now and was looking at his shoes instead. He wanted to hope that Evan was telling the truth, he still head
that smiley face shaped head. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would be friends with Trevor or Trevor’s
friends, but you don’t give something valuable to someone else unless you’re friends with them. That’s what Mike
thought when he lent Evan the Gameboy. He looked at his thumbs again.
“ok, well… let me know when you get it back. It cost me a lot of money.” Mike didn’t want to think about his
gameboy anymore. He didn’t want to go back home and have to tell his mom that he wasn’t able to get it back. He didn’t want to see what would happen if she found out some other kid had it that he didn’t know. He remembered how
much he had bugged her to get it for him and how she would argue how it cost too much. “I’m just gonna go home
then.” He said and turned away.
“Oh!” Evan said in surprise, it sounded fake. “well umm I’m kind of busy right now but... you sure you don’t
wanna hang out?”
Mike stopped halfway down the steps, but he didn’t turn back. “Nah… I’ve got other things to do today.
There’s some other friends I need to go see.” He lied. He didn’t want to be there anymore.
“Ok.” Evan replied, “Well let me know when you wanna hang out sometime I guess. Or whatever.” As he
reached for the door.
Now Mike turned to look back one last time at Evan’s house. He wouldn’t be coming back here.
“Whatever.” He said.
