The Naked Mole-Rat Letters by Mary Amato Read Free Book Online

Robert?”
    â€œWhat play?”
    â€œThe junior high school play . . .”
    Mr. Horrible Haxer must have told Ms. Young about Dad having a nervous breakdown. I could hear it in her voice; it had that careful sound that people use when they’re talking to sick people. What would shedo? Would she tell Dad that she knew about his nervous breakdown? I cupped my hand over the receiver so they couldn’t hear me breathing.
    â€œI wanted Frankie to know how proud I was that she got cast,” Ms. Young went on. “Seventh-graders rarely get in.”
    â€œI forgot about the play!” Dad said. “She didn’t even tell me she got in. How nice of you to call. It’ll mean a lot to her. You were her favorite teacher, you know.”
    â€œWell, I’m a little worried about . . .” She didn’t know what to say. Please don’t say anything about a nervous breakdown, I prayed. “I was wondering if there was any way to make it work so that Frankie could be in the show. I think it would be very good for her.”
    â€œOf course she can be in the play.”
    â€œShe can? You’re sure it’s not too much trouble for you to arrange? Frankie told Justin Haxer that you needed her to baby-sit every day after school. And if you need some help working that out, I’m sure . . .”
    Justin, I thought. Ms. Young should know that his real name is Horrible.
    â€œI know how important these school plays are to Frankie,” Dad was saying. “Of course we’ll work things out here.”
    â€œOh, I’m so glad to hear that. May I speak with Frankie?”
    I hung up the phone and ran into my room.
    â€œFrankie!” Dad called up the stairs. “Ms. Young wants to talk to you.”
    â€œI can’t talk right now,” I yelled back.
    I waited a few seconds; then I crept back out and picked up the phone.
    â€œSure,” Dad was saying. “We’ll talk it over. How many rehearsals a week?”
    â€œJustin will write up a rehearsal schedule. It won’t be that many. She has a very small part. I’m glad you don’t feel overwhelmed by this.”
    â€œOverwhelmed? Why should I feel overwhelmed?”
    â€œI really didn’t want to bother you, but I can’t help feeling that it’s important for Frankie to participate.”
    â€œNo, I’m glad you called. I can arrange baby-sitting.”
    â€œGreat! I’ll tell Justin.”
    As they said their good-byes, I hung up and ran into my room.
    A few minutes later I heard Dad’s footsteps on the stairs. He knocked and waited. When I didn’t say anything, he knocked again.
    I put my pillow over my head. “I can’t talk right now.”
    â€œThat was Ms. Young on the phone. She said you got in—”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œFrankie, you can be in the play. You know that. Why did you tell Mr. Haxer that you couldn’t?”
    â€œI don’t want to be in the play.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI already told Mr. Haxer that I’m not doing it. So just stay out of it.”
    â€œI don’t understand. Open the door, Frankie.”
    I didn’t move.
    â€œCan we please talk about his face to face?”
    I threw my pillow at the door. “Why? You don’t care.”
    â€œDon’t snap at me, Frankie. I do care. I’m trying to help.”
    â€œWell you can help by leaving me alone.”
    There was silence again. He didn’t know what to do. If I was a dad, and I had forgotten to ask my daughter about an audition, and my daughter was this upset, I wouldn’t leave her alone. I’d cut a hole through the door, or I’d get a ladder and climb through the window. I’d think of a million and one ways of finding out what was wrong and cheering her up.
    He cleared his throat, something he does when he doesn’t know what to say. “I don’t get it, Frankie. What’s