Insignificant Events in the Life of a Cactus: Chapters 17–26

Connor continued giving me his skeptical look. “Really?”

“At least if you had Tourette’s,” the completely monotone, expressionless girl sitting across from me said, “you wouldn’t have to worry about slapping yourself in the face all the time like I do.”

Had Dexter’s mom not intervened, it could have been bad.

I thought it would be exhausting to put on such an act all the time. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to do such a thing or how anyone could think they were doing it.

It was strange listening to everyone speak among a cacophony of barking, farting, whooping, shrieking, and chicken nipples.

“Hmm?” he said absentmindedly.

“Things are hard enough the way they are. I can’t imagine how hard it would be if I started saying obnoxious things all the time. I think I’d rather have brain surgery at that point.”

Once the wasp grub hatched, it would feed on the tarantula meat.

It was wonderful to feel a chill in the air again, but every weekend I felt less and less enthusiastic about getting out of bed to go out there. I think Dad must have noticed my waning interest.

He found an old tuba somewhere at the park, and he came into my room one morning, played horrible screeching sounds on the tuba, then announced, “All hail Aven Laura Green, future queen of the Desert Ridge Middle School soccer team!”

I smothered my face with a pillow and told him there was no such thing as a queen in soccer.

And the weekend after that: “All hail Aven Laura Green, future world dictator of the Desert Ridge Middle School soccer team!”

I slipped my foot out of my flat, grabbed it with my toes, and tried to pick it up. It was connected to something in the ground and wouldn’t come loose. I put my flat back on and started kicking at the dirt, trying to unearth whatever was under there.

“My mom told me that’s because it’s tarnished silver,” I said. “Look at the shape of the stone and that little vein running through it. It’s definitely the same.”

“I guess there could be a dead body up there, but you’d think I’d feel all creepy when I was up there if there was. Like I’d feel a chill or a shudder or a...” I thought for a moment. “Or a tremble!”

Normally, I would never want to call attention to myself. But there are times when my temper overwhelms my desire to go unnoticed.

Normally, I would never want to call attention to myself. But there are times when my temper overwhelms my desire to go unnoticed.

I didn’t know what else to say about that, so I told them, “My school back in Kansas held this playwright contest in sixth grade. Anyone could submit their own ideas, plot, and script for a play. The winner got to have their play produced. I submitted the most awesome script of all time. Wait for it,” I said dramatically. “Down and Dirty in Kansas City.”

“I totally didn’t win. Plus we had to have a meeting with my parents. They had read my play already and thought it rocked, so they were a little confused about the whole thing. I tuned out most of the meeting, but I believe the words gruesome and horrifying may have been said.

His play was called Desert Moon over the Desert. I found the title redundant, but I guess the judges thought his work was spectacularly creative.

My costume was this drab green, so I wasn’t bright enough on stage. We had to spray the whole thing down with sparkle spray paint.

I scanned the room and noted the sparse furnishings—a three-person couch, a small coffee table, side table, and lamp.

Connor barked as we unloaded our bags onto the small kitchen table. It only had two chairs. Just then, a bedraggled-looking blonde woman wearing a nightgown and a robe emerged from a small hallway.

“Connor, I wish you would tell me about these things.” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “How did you get there?”

He blamed himself for all his mom’s problems—his dad leaving, this tiny apartment, her hectic work schedule.

I lowered my eyes and ran my rainbow-striped flat over the dingy carpet.

There’s no reason any of you should feel you need to stay confined to your house out of fear of venturing out.

It didn’t need to be big, but something easily attainable—like my parents had always taught me: one small goal at a time.

The way he said his goal felt noncommittal, and I doubted he would follow through with it.

Several of the employees stopped to watch, but Josephine told them all to skedaddle.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Not quite, Dad.” Zion’s parents would have had a way better comeback.

Mom and Dad looked at each other. “That is...mildly intriguing,” said Dad.

I even visited Madame Myrtle to try to figure things out, but she was clueless about the tarantulas.

There were a lot of numbers and words like deduction and revenue and net. I had no idea what any of it meant, but I decided it was all far too boring to be important.

There were a lot of numbers and words like deduction and revenue and net. I had no idea what any of it meant, but I decided it was all far too boring to be important.