before I get to the gym,
and also it’s nice
to spy
on everything
else.
(It’s also nice
to not ask Dad for a ride
so that way
he doesn’t know
just how many visits to the gym
he’s sponsored
in the past few days.)
My glove connects
because he did not jab.
Yep.
I guessed right.
His head whips to the side
and I close in
because right now
I know
he isn’t thinking about his next hit,
he’s thinking about MY next hit
so I give it to him
and he’s back against the ropes
and Coach is yelling
Wow! Levi!
Good job!
Nice moves!
But his words are a blur
because my fists
my feet
are a symphony
and I am
Turning
Up
The
Volume.
Under my door
a familiar blue
says hello.
I can’t tell him what happened,
I don’t need him to fix it.
I’ve already fixed it.
All by myself.
I put on the chicken head
and boy is it hot
so hot
oven hot
baking hot
sweating
sweltering
Fried Levi.
But I don’t care
because in this head
in this suit
I get to be huge
bigger than anything
all eyes on me.
Kate is looking for me this time,
her falcon head swivels, slow motion
her wing points at me
as I run
fly
down the stairs in the stands,
as I leap onto the field.
She squawks
flaps,
I squawk
flap
hop
leap
The crowd . . .
the crowd!
They’re on their feet
laughing and cheering.
Kate runs at me.
I dodge her
(thanks, boxing!).
Coach Ellison is after me now,
she squawks loud, too,
as I zigzag free
along the sidelines
players slapping my shoulders,
laughing so hard
coaches steamed, yelling.
I stop.
In one glorious moment
drop my pants
show the stands
the full moon
is mine
tonight.
And then I’m gone.
Chicken head lost to the wind.
And as I laugh hard
I hear the cheering
all the way
from the shed.
There’s still plenty of time
until mascot tryouts.
Plenty of time
teasing Kate on the field.
Plenty of time
before my audition kills
and everyone sees it’s me . . .
the big reveal!
Kids come up to Kate
all through lunch
they think she’s in on it,
that she and the chicken head
have created a skit.
Her mouth is tight.
She doesn’t say anything.
But I’m smiling.
And Tam and I talk about
dumb things
fun things
and it’s almost like Kate
isn’t there
at all.
I’m really good.
No, I don’t think we have time
for a whole game.
I need to rest my brain.
But
some day.
I will smoke you, Mom.
You’ll see all my trickiest chess moves.
Just not today.
Is that OK?
No, it’s not too much.
Practice makes perfect, right?
Same goes for lying.
Just breathe, Levi.
Stay cool.
Stay cool.
not in a million years
you’re boxing
instead of
playing chess.
Dad called the house
which he never does.
He’s yelling
but I can’t talk.
Mom’ll hear everything.
This bill!
Levi!
My god!
What have you—
I can’t even—
I guess going to boxing
more than twice a month
costs a lot more
than I thought.
Mom is staring
Timothy is staring
I just swallow
say nothing
hope they can’t hear the yelling
about all the money he’s spent
and how next week he is
personally
walking
me
in
and talking
to the
coach.
I say, OK.
I say, See you then.
Hang up the phone
so fast
you might think
it was on fire.
What was that all about?
Look who suddenly appears!
Look who’s all ears!
The mystery brother, formerly known as Timothy.
What did he want?
I deflect Timothy’s questions
just like we’re boxing.
Even more practice
for becoming the
fly-fly-flyweight
champion of the world.
Timothy’s journal is on my desk.
Again.
I open it.
Again.
What do I say
to something like that?
I know he’ll listen,
just . . .
what is it called
when you want to talk
but your feelings are all jumbled
and you don’t know what to say?
Aargh.
What even IS that?
I write:
And this part, I write
then erase
then write again:
Get in the car.
Little beard hairs shake.
Dad is so mad.
I’m glad you like boxing, Levi,
but, Sport,
I said no to more practices
I said no.
I look at the floor.
There’s no money for this.
You’ll have to work it off.
You better think of a plan.
You’re going to have to talk to Coach.
Levi!
Coach’s face breaks out
into a big fat smile
C’mon, killer, let’s see what you’ve got.
And we shadowbox
around the lobby.
I’m fast.
So fast.
Practice makes
perfect.
It only takes a second
for me to forget
Dad is even there.
But he sucks in his breath,
loud.
I don’t know
if he’s ever
looked at me like that,
his eyes
wide
his hand strokes his beard
like he is some supersmart
actual lumberjack
and he says
&nbs
p; Jeez, Levi
Am I gonna have to take out a second mortgage?
Coach goes up to him
I hear money, tight
I hear working, gym
I hear towels, wash
I hear hate to lose him
I hear talented
They shake hands
both look at me
and now I’m Coach’s servant, I guess
but I don’t care.
Bye, Dad!
I wave as I run to the locker room
and Dad’s face
his face
I wish I had a picture
of that proud
mouth
in a wide open
O
(And I try not to think about
how he wanted me to do this
but how surprised he is
I’ve actually done it.)
If you lived in a tent
under someone’s armpit
that would be
a one hundred percent accurate match
for this locker room.
Hey, Davidson, you’re back.
The huge kid looms over me.
Ready for a match?
I smile
chew my mouth guard
look him up and down.
I don’t know
I say,
wrapping my hands.
I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.
The guys all laugh,
but I’m not kidding.
Here’s the thing about boxing:
I thought it would be all about smashing noses
and being smashed.
But boxing is not that
at all.
It’s about feeling your world
tighten into a pinprick
of just you
and your opponent.
It’s about quick feet,
and quicker thinking.
It’s like chess,
but with your body.
All movement.
Strategy.
It sounds weird to say this,
but
with boxing?
There is, like,
beauty.
Coach steps between us,
ends the sparring,
one hand on my sweaty shoulder
the other on my opponent’s.
Nice fight.
He nods.
You’re a little beast, Davidson.
My opponent smiles,
takes off his headgear,
shakes his sweat in my face.
Gross.
But I laugh
because that guy?
He’s like ten times sweatier than I am.
I could do this all day.
Let’s play.
First time I’ve seen Timothy
in days.
He has a chessboard in a box
under his arm.
No thanks.
He looks surprised.
It’s just,
I say
walking backwards toward my room,
my eyes
they’re fried
so tired.
I think I’ll rest.
He looks confused.
Even though I want to hang out.
Even though I miss him,
I’m terrible at chess.
He’d know in a heartbeat
if we started a game.
He’d know in a flash
Chess Club is fake.
Another Friday night.
This time I tell Mom
I have a chess match.
Oh! Levi! Exciting!
Can I come watch?
I’ll be too nervous.
Maybe next time?
Where is it?
I’ll drive you.
It’s at school.
I can walk.
Don’t be silly, Levi.
Get in the car.
So now we’re driving
to my fake chess match
on the dark side of the school,
instead of me running
towards the Friday night lights
where my chicken head
is waiting for me.
You’re sure it’s tonight?
Mom squints.
Looks pretty dark.
I’ll be fine!
Thanks for the ride!
I hop out of the car and run.
The shadows hide me
while her car idles.
She won’t leave
until she knows I’m safe.
It’s OK!
I swear!
The chess room is right down there.
I point to a window
with one light on.
Mom seems suspicious
but she nods,
drives away.
And then I run
all the way to the shed
to find my head
so I can get to the game.
Through the chicken head
I see Tam in the stands
right by the sidelines
cheering Kate,
sitting with people
I don’t know.
I run to them
grab a kid’s popcorn
throw a kernel in the air
catch it in my beak
make everyone laugh
(except for the kid
and Tam).
Then I fling myself
to the field.
Kate rips off her falcon head
starts to yell.
I mimic her moves
(but keep the chicken head on)
bigger,
sillier,
the crowd goes wild.
Except for Tam,
she’s on her feet,
her hands on her hips.
She’s not laughing.
I flap my arms and get off the field.
Coach Ellison didn’t chase me.
I didn’t even see her
weird.
I’m sweating
when I get to the old shed.
I toss in the head
toss in the legs
take two puffs
feel my lungs clear
that’s when I hear the cough
but it’s not mine for once.
It’s from the back.
It’s from the dark.
I turn to run,
but it’s too late.
Coach Ellison steps out of the shadows,
arms crossed tight.
I’m breathing enough air for ten people
but I can’t stop opening and closing my mouth
I need a word puffer
because my sounds are all lost.
Put that back where it belongs.
No more chicken head, Levi.
You’re done.
No sound comes out
my mouth
gasping for words.
Coach Ellison walks past
turns around
I guess I’ll be seeing you
in the principal’s office Monday?
The phone rings
very early
Monday morning.
I leap up
trip out of bed
stumble fast
into the hall
try to
beat Mom—
Mom: Hello?
Yes, this is she.
Hmm?
What?!
Her eyes turn to me
wide
then
slits
Oh really.
Oh REALLY.
Yes, I will be there.
Thank you for calling.
The phone goes click
back in its base.
Mom turns to me,
red crawls into her cheeks
anger crawls into her words
Get dressed, you.
Now.
And that quiet voice,
it’s the one saved for mean doctors
and
insurance companies on the phone
not
usually
for
me.
Uh-oh.
Driving to school
Mom keeps looking at me.
Finally
I say
What?
Half her mouth smiles.
You stole a chicken costume.
Really?
I nod,
my mouth opens
happiness flies out of me
as I describe
running in the stands
making everyone laugh
being crazy
being alive.
Mom’s eyes on the road,
her voice soft now
I would’ve never dared to think,
Levi,
you’d be so big now.
I would’ve never dared to dream.
Her hand shoots out
grabs my knee
gives it a squeeze.
You’re still in trouble
she says,
pointing at me now.
But wow, Levi.
Just . . . look at you.
Wow.
One million detentions.
Basically
every day
after school
helping Coach Ellison
doing whatever she says.
Mom isn’t happy.
Principal McGee isn’t happy.
I am not happy.
And now I have to apologize
to Kate
and the whole
entire
school.
My face burns
my chest is tight
I hold the microphone
look at the speaker in the wall
where my voice will carry through
the halls
try to break it
with my brain.
Hi, everyone.
My voice cracks.
I clear my throat.
This is Levi Davidson.
I want to say I’m sorry
I borrowed the chicken head
and disrupted the cheerleaders
and I’m sorry to Kate, the true Falcon,
for everything.
I apologize.
Thank you, Levi.
Principal McGee is very serious.
She looks me up and down.