The Entirely Fabricated Story of Lizzie Nickerson

Chapter 47

Lizzie sat in her customary location, the fifth step of the apartment building's first flight of stairs. With Frederick Gibbs gone, and the adjacent apartment where Boomer-the-toolbox-thief used to live not yet rented, the hallway was a good place to concentrate on Scooter's texts.

She'd studied them carefully before she replied, struggling to acquaint herself with Scooter's emojis and their often cryptic meanings. She recognized the potential. If used properly, she would be able to convey information much more quickly with emojis, especially because she'd been experiencing a steep learning curve with the two-thumb texting technique.

However, she knew the improper use of emojis could be disastrous. Scooter told Lizzie a 'funny' story. When one of his elderly aunts received a message that a friend of hers had passed away, she responded with the tears of joy emoji thinking it meant crying. Although Scooter found this hilarious, after reviewing the emojis on her phone, Lizzie could see how easily a mistake like that could happen and lead to misunderstanding, ridicule, and shame.

She reviewed the most recent group of texts and then addressed the one that had a photo attached of a double cheeseburger, a bag of tater tots surrounded by a scattering of ketchup packets, and a soda.

Unprepared to venture into emoji wonderland, she typed: When you eat burgers and tater tots, don't you worry about getting diabetes and heart disease?

He replied: No. Not really.

Lizzie: Fried foods are bad for you. And deep-fried foods are even worse.

Scooter: Does this mean you won't go to Sonic with me?

Lizzie: I read their menu and I think I found some things I could eat. At least drink.

Scooter: That's good. I hope we can do it soon.

She'd barely finished texting "me too" when Aunt Sonya called from upstairs. "Lizzie. I need to see you."

Lizzie climbed the stairs to the third floor, found the door open, and then walked into the kitchen.

She heard her aunt's voice from her bedroom. "I'm back here."

Lizzie grabbed a drinking glass and filled it from the water pitcher on the sink.

When Lizzie entered her bedroom drinking from the glass of water, she found Sonya on her knees beside her bed.

"Lizzie, I told you to clean your room. You shoved your dirty clothes and bath towels under the bed. Not the same thing."

Lizzie's face flushed. "Oh, geez. I thought about hydration, then I got distracted and then I forgot." She set the glass of water next to the fishbowl and then decided to feed Buddy.

"Will you please put the dirty clothes and bath towels in the laundry?" Sonya said. "Before you get distracted and forget?"

"Forget what?"

"Forget about the dirty clothes and–" Sonya stopped. "Did you just make a joke?"

"How was it?" Lizzie wasn't smiling or showing any indication of humor, just her regular blank face.

"Much funnier than the dentist joke."

"I'd like to be funny. It's something I'm working on. I think people that are funny have more friends. And I think Scooter would like it if I was funny."

"People like to laugh. It takes their minds off of more serious things."

Lizzie's voice flattened. "Like my momma coming back to take me away."

"Your mother is..." Sonya struggled to think of a diplomatic descriptor. "Unpredictable. You know?"

No reaction from Lizzie.

Sonya added, "We might not see her for another six years. So let's not worry about her, okay?"

Lizzie didn't answer. She heard the doubt in her aunt's voice.

Sonya repeated, "Okay?"

"How do you stop thinking about worrying?"

"By thinking of something else. Like thinking about Scooter."

They heard the front door buzzer in the kitchen and crossed paths, Sonya headed to the kitchen and Lizzie to the window.

Parked at the curb, just down the street was an unfamiliar purple minivan. A man wearing a bandana tied around his head removed a decal-covered guitar case from the minivan and closed the door.

Lizzie noticed that out in the kitchen, Sonya was unusually loud. When Lizzie ventured out of her room, she heard her mother's voice coming through the intercom speaker.

"Don't leave me hangin', dude," Indigo said.

The veins bulged in Sonya's neck. She pushed the button, unlocking the front door. "Your mother's coming up," she said.

"I know. And I think she has some guy with her."

"Of course she does." Sonya fumed. "Don't get upset. She's just–"

"Unpredictable," Lizzie finished her sentence. "Just like you said."

For the first time, Sonya could see her sister in Lizzie's face. Something about the look in her eyes, like she wasn't sure what was going to happen next but just behind those eyes, her brain was working really hard to think it through to the next part.