Boy21: Preface–Chapter 20

Then he goes back inside the house to deal with my pop, who has recently returned legless from the hospital, clutching my dead grandmother’s rosary beads.

Erin’s so charismatic and beautiful that my dad and pop never pay any attention to me when my girlfriend’s around.

Simulating game situations, we take two shots at a time and box each other out for rebounds.

Whenever I would hear Don Little say something lewd to Erin, my chest would get tight and my hands would ball up into fists, but, of course, my tongue wouldn’t work at all.

Rod asked me what had transpired, so I told him what I remembered.

The liquor on his breath was dank and smelled sharp as a razor blade.

The neighborhood is gray and dingy and littered with trash, but all the row homes are occupied and therefore not condemned, so our blocks look pretty healthy compared to most around here.

The neighborhood is gray and dingy and littered with trash, but all the row homes are occupied and therefore not condemned, so our blocks look pretty healthy compared to most around here.

Something about the way he says those words makes me feel sort of strange. Like he’s trying to be prophetic or something, and this dinner’s even more important than I originally thought.

He’s played in all the best camps. He’s been outgoing and trouble-free all through high school. Great work ethic. Every collegiate program in the country wants the kid.

Part of me just wants to be with Erin, and yet, another part of me’s intrigued, kind of flattered, and a little nervous, all at once.

“The people at his group home and his local therapist have both recommended that we all call him Boy21 out of respect for his wishes. They say he now needs to exert control over his environment in some small way, or something like that...."

They’re probably thinking I won’t be able to relate to their grandson, that I might even be a liability for him in the new neighborhood, and I completely agree.

Black kids with white best friends are not common in Bellmont. Maybe that’s blunt, but I’ve found that being blunt sometimes makes life easier for everyone.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t get him to come down. I told him you were coming, but, well, you see”—he lowers his voice here—“the social worker told us that we shouldn’t push the boy just yet, but let him acclimate to the new setting, so—”

“I am programmed to treat all Earthlings with kindness. Greetings. I am Boy21 from the cosmos. I am stranded here on Earth, but I will be leaving soon. Enter into my domestic living pod.”

“So you are just parsimonious with your words?”
“Parsimonious. Yeah. I guess.”

So perhaps we should nourish your system with sustenance at this juncture?

So perhaps we should nourish your system with sustenance at this juncture?

I start to think about what’s going to happen to Russell if he pretends to be from outer space once school starts.
At lunch he’ll be relegated to my table. Students will dump carrots on his plate.

I don’t know why but—suddenly, almost involuntarily—I nod once, and then he follows me into my house.

This is when I realize that either the therapist has really healed Russell or Boy21 has gone incognito.

As we walk to school, Erin tries to engage Boy21 in conversation, but he only gives one- or two-word answers, asks Erin no questions, and kind of acts like I usually do, which makes me wonder if he’s also a minimalist speaker in certain situations.

Our school is a long three-story brick building with a cop car perpetually parked out front.

During lunch, noticing his size and stature, the other basketball players come over to my table, and Terrell says, “Yo, White Rabbit, who dis?”

I know she wanted me to stick up for her when Terrell called her White Rabbit’s lil baby, but I need Terrell to like me so that the basketball season will go well, which is my number one priority, and there are much worse nicknames that other girls in our school endure.

For the first time all day, Boy21 is looking into my eyes, and maybe it’s me who’s crazy, but it’s like he’s trying to communicate with me, sending messages through our pupils. The weirdest part is I think I sort of understand the message he’s trying to convey.

Mr. Gore’s a tall, thin man with thick glasses and a Jheri curl hairstyle that the other students relentlessly make fun of.

“Community college,” I say, because it’s all I can afford without a scholarship, and my SAT scores are pretty mediocre.

“You won’t believe how much of what we’ll be talking about this year is applicable to space travel,” Mr. Jefferies says while passing out the permission forms.

On the TV is an infomercial for some cleaning product endorsed by Magic Johnson, who keeps saying, “This is just like me—magic!” every time the hostess wipes a stain off a couch or rug with the “magic” wand cleaner.

His eyes look wild, crazy, manic.

...there is this awesome noise when the rockets are ignited—and then these massive clouds explode from the bottom of the ship and billow out forever and ever along the horizon and then it rises real slow...pushed upward by what looks like a bright cone of orange lava, and a long tower of clouds forms in its wake.

Boy21 was quoting verbatim whoever was announcing the launch on the YouTube clip—all the talk about harmony for the heavens and gateways.

“My father sent me a telepathic birthday card today. He says he has a present for me, but due to an unforeseen meteor shower in a galaxy that you Earthlings don’t even know exists yet, he anticipates being a few Earth days later than he had originally planned, regarding the pickup. So it looks like you and I will be spending some more time together, Earthling known as Finley.”

They do a Michael Jackson tribute that ends with an amazing rendition of “Thriller,” complete with zombie dance moves.

“Okay, White Rabbit,” Terrell’s mom says, nodding a respectful but curt hello at Erin, who is standing with Boy21 ten feet away.

Rod is there and I have to admit that he intimidates me, especially knowing what he allegedly did to Don Little.

Hard work yields big-time rewards, right?

Coach wanted me to help Russ assimilate to Bellmont so that he could play ball for us.