Movieland

Chapter 25

Applewhite and I ate ice cream at the Dairy Creme out by the reservoir.

We sat on a wooden picnic table that overlooked the blue waters of the reservoir. Initials from generations of lovers and friends were carved into it. I'd never been out that way with Carolina but despite a perfect blank spot, the carving of initials needed both of us present. Not to mention my new cast, the blankest slate of all.

The sky looked the way I felt: drab and discouraged. The ice cream helped but didn't change Standard's abrupt rejection.

"I don't know why I thought he'd help," I said. "That was stupid."

Applewhite ate a cup of butterscotch ice cream with a plastic spoon. "You say things you do are dumb or stupid often. Stop doing that. It comes off as weak. And you're not weak."

I didn't respond. I could've said thanks. Or okay. I almost said, "You don't know what it's like to be me." I didn't know anything about her. After a cold lick of chocolate, I asked, "What was it like for you growing up?"

She tapped the spoon against her teeth. "Deep question. I'll take it, if only to distract us from Standard's dumb ass. What was it like for me growing up? Unsettled. Both my parents worked the graveyard shift. I had trouble sleeping. Around the age of 11 I spent a lot of time up too late reading or watching TV. I had a peculiar obsession with crafting doll houses out of glue and popsicle sticks. I'd methodically build a house while watching Matlock or Magnum P.I. Then my parents ran out of space to store them, so I donated them to the local old folks' homes. Then they didn't want them, so we started burning them in the fireplace until my mom had a coughing attack from the burning glue. I had to stop but I couldn't, so my father taught me how to solve a Rubik's Cube."

Her fingers twitched in a patterned rhythm.

"There's a formula. It's not simple, but then you solve it the first time. And the second. And by the thousandth time I could recite the opening scene from War Games and solve it before I finished."

"Did you compete?" I asked.

"Twice. The first time I had no business being there. It was early into solving it. I had completed it maybe twenty times. I heard about the contest on the radio and begged my dad to take me. The type of people competing at a sanctioned Rubik's Cube competition are not what a young girl is prepared for. There were nerds and geeks and businesswomen and a cowboy and a celebrity appearance by the robot from Short Circuit."

"Johnny 5."

"The guy who does the voice came along. It was a spectacle. Video cameras and interviews and an exciting hour where a rumor spread that Ally Sheedy and Steve Guttenberg were coming. I was a kid who was still excited every time I solved the cube. It took me ten minutes and I placed last in my age category. The second time was a month later. I practiced every night. Movies were on in the background to prepare me for the chaotic nature of the competition. I watched Jaws with the volume turned full blast. The Goonies played on repeat for five days straight until I needed a break from Chunk. Then it was all Hughes all the time: Pretty in Pink. The Breakfast Club. Weird Science. Ferris. By the time the second competition rolled around, I was singing 'If You Leave' and saying, 'This is an incredibly romantic moment and you're ruining it for me' while I solved the cube in under two minutes. I was primed. Then I went to the competition."

"And?"

"And it was in a different city with a different crowd. Everyone who came -- the nerds and goofs and a grandma and a biker woman -- and me, we were all too focused to make any noise. The chaos I had trained for turned out to be silence. And unfortunately, this wasn't space. Everyone could've heard you scream in this void. Both of my parents came, and a friend who mostly liked watching movies with me but had grown supportive. The heat was on. How it works is you sit at a table with an unsolved cube. The cubes are all scrambled equally prior to the competition. You can look at the cube as it sits on the table but cannot touch it. You then pick the cube up and say start. The timer begins. Everyone competes at tables all around you."

Her face flushed like Maverick.

"The winner for all age brackets was 30 seconds by a girl named Judy Dickers. My age bracket winner solved it in a minute twelve. I had solved a cube in a minute eleven the night before. All I had to do was not what I did."

I had a question about how to solve the cube but swallowed it. "What happened?"

"I got disqualified. At home, I had a routine where I spun the cube in a circle three times to survey it before starting the timer. It was like before shooting a free throw. I knew it wasn't allowed in competition, but I couldn't break the habit. It formed after the first competition, and had led to faster times, so I kept it up with plans to focus on controlling my breathing to help with concentration. Then Mom and Dad and Janie came up to the table to watch me and I got distracted and had picked the cube up and spun it around three times before I knew what happened."

"Couldn't they have just given you a new cube?" I asked.

"Rubik's competitions were cutthroat. No mercy."

A stiff wind blew, rippling the water below.

"Here's the thing, Max: You're going to make mistakes. You're going to screw up. I do dumb stuff all the time. I just try and not do the same dumb thing twice."

"You didn't compete after that?"

"Middle school started soon after. That puzzle was more complicated and took me much longer to solve."

I thought about the time in 8th grade when Carolina and I both reached into the Doritos bag at the same time and how our hands touched and there was an actual electrical shock. I yanked my hand out of the bag too quickly and ripped it and covered her in broken bits of cool ranch. Without thinking I began wiping at her arms and legs and chest. She held my wrist, looked me in the eyes, and said, "You couldn't just start with a kiss?" And maybe the nonsense of blowing her off in high school would never have happened if we finished what I had inadvertently started. Naturally, Frankie burst into the room and the rest was history.

"Do you know the man who invented the cube, Erno Rubik, took three months to solve it the first time?" Applewhite said. "The current world record is 7 seconds. Our ability for exponential growth will forever amaze me. At the same time, our capacity for greatness is only rivaled by the dark side in us all."

"What's that from?" I asked.

Tires squealed and a cloud of dust rose into the air.

"Did somebody call for back-up?" a gravelly voice asked.

I turned around expecting a DeLorean.

"I thought he sold his Huffy," Applewhite said.

The dust hung in the air like a pregnant pause.

Standard strutted through it, wearing his red bubble vest and aviators. His beard was trimmed but his mullet remained. I wanted his autograph but would settle for his help.