Antsy Does Time

Come to Chicago if you want to know what real weather is.”

—MAIN COURSE—

(Served scalding hot, and taken with a grain of salt)

“You’re taking me to Paris, Capisce? for di

I thought we were going to a regular restaurant.”

“It’s on Avenue T? Couldn’t you find a better location?

Well, I suppose you’ll do better in a neighborhood with low expectations.”

“Once I move to New York, I’ll be able to give you pointers on the right way to run a business.[3]

—LIGHTER SELECTIONS—

for the calorie-conscious

“Angela, dear—I’ll order Nutri-plan diet meals for you.

You don’t have to thank me, it’s my treat.”

“Christina, you’re very attractive, for a girl of your build.”

“One word, Joe: ‛Liposuction.’”

—DESSERT—

“What’s this about stopping at a school?”

“How long is this going to take?”

“I haven’t eaten all day!”

“Can I just wait in the car?”

“On second thought, no. In this neighborhood I’ll probably get mugged.”

We walked into the rally five minutes late, to find an auditorium packed, standing room only. My parents were completely bewildered. They knew I’d been doing “something” for Gu

“Some turnout,” said Dad.

“And on a school night,” said Mom.

“This is how flu epidemics start,” said Mona, zeroing in on one kid with a hacking cough.

“What’s that up onstage?” my mom asked, pointing at the big cardboard thermometer.

“It’s measuring all the time I collected for Gu

“Oh,” she said, with no idea what I was talking about. It was actually kind of nice to see my parents starstruck by something I had done—even if it was all a sham.

I had my speech in my pocket, and as nervous as I was to get up in front of all these people, I was relieved to actually be there. This wouldn’t be so bad. It would be over quick, then we could get off to di

But it didn’t happen that way. Not by a long shot. That night will be branded in my mind forever, because it was, without exaggeration, the worst night of my life.

16. The Day That Forever Will Be Known as “Black Wednesday”

The freezing rain had turned to sleet. It pelted the long windows of the auditorium with a clattering hiss like radio static. There were no seats for us—in fact, there were no seats for about a dozen people standing in the back, and even more were still filing in.

“This is very impressive,” Mom said.

“Ugh,” said Mona. “What is this, Ecuador? Do we need all this heat?”

She was right about that. Even though it was freezing outside, the auditorium was stifling hot. My father had taken off his coat, but there was nowhere to put it. He ended up holding his own and Mona’s, which was made of so many small animals, my father looked like a fur trader. Mom took out a tissue and blotted his forehead since his hands were too full to do it himself.

“Antsy! Where have you been?” It was Neena Wexler, Fresh-man Class President. “Airport.”

Neena gave a nod of hello to my family. Mona fa

“Sorry it’s so hot,” Neena said, “but it’s actually on purpose. We have a whole thermometer motif.”

“Just remember to enunciate,” Aunt Mona advised me. “I’m sure you’ll do fine even with that speech impediment.” She was referring to my apparent inability to pronounce her name “Mona.”

I looked to Dad to make sure he was okay with all of this. Now that he had gotten over his initial bewilderment, he just looked tired and worried.

“Don’t mind your father,” Mom said. “He’s just concerned because he left Barry in charge of the restaurant tonight.” Barry is his assistant manager, who gets overwhelmed if there’s too many salad orders.

With the clock ticking, Neena grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the stage.

“We’re all proud of you,” Mom called after me.

Neena had led the entire thermometer campaign, and had done it with the brutal resolve of a wartime general. She did everything short of wrestling the entire time-shaving industry out of my hands in her attempt to make it a student-government operation. I wish I could have just left it in her hands and walked away, but I was as much a poster child for this Event as Gu

There were several chairs onstage, next to the thermometer. Balloons were strung to everything onstage, enough maybe to lift someone else up to the Empire State Building if you bunched them all up together. Gu

Neena whisked me past the superintendent of schools and her entourage. She shook my hand, and before I could say anything, Neena pulled me up onstage and sat me down in my preassigned seat, under bright lights that made it all the more hot.

“Interesting shirt,” Gu

“True color coordination lies within,’” I told him. “Tommy Freakin’ Hilfiger.” If Gu

“Hey, Antsy,” someone in the audience shouted. “You go

People laughed. I couldn’t find the heckler in the audience, but I did find my father, who showed no sign of amusement.

Neena approached the podium, tapped the microphone to make sure it was on, and began. “Welcome to our rally in support of our classmate and friend Gu

“You’re not the homecoming king,” I whispered to him. “Stop waving already.”

He spoke back to me through a gritted-teeth smile, like a ventriloquist. “It would be suspicious to ignore the cheers.”

Neena continued. “It’s your heartfelt donations that have made this evening possible.”

I pulled my speech out of my pocket, ready to give it, but Gu

Neena, who I’m sure will grow up to plan weddings and Super Bowl halftime shows, had a whole evening of Gu

“Let’s all rise for the national anthem, as performed by our jazz choir.”

The curtain opened behind us to reveal the entire jazz choir wearing TIME WARRIOR T-shirts, like everyone else onstage except me and Gu

Next came an address from the principal. He talked up the school, the faculty, he kissed up to the superintendent, and then he went right into infomercial mode. “Let me just tell you about some of the many student organizations, clubs, and activities we have on our exceptional campus ...”

Way in the back I could see Aunt Mona’s lips moving and my dad nodding, taking in whatever she was spouting. I took a deep shuddering breath, and fiddled with my speech until it was all crumpled.

3

(At this point dad reached to the dashboard, and for the briefest insane moment, I thought he might be reaching for an ejection button that would send aunt Mona flying through the roof—but he was just turning on the radio.)