The New Boy [boyxboy]

Chapter Five

Wednesday, October 5th, 2011

So as per the divorce agreement, I spend Wednesdays and weekends with my dad. I’d been hoping that this would mean I wouldn’t have to spend this weekend hanging out with Dexter and Olivia, but before they left yesterday he and Teegan made us agree to plans for hanging out and going to the cinema. When I got to my dad’s place after school today I totally made it sound like we were going to be doing heroin in a back alley with some second-hand needles in the hope that he’d ban me from going, but he just smiled sort of sadly and said, ‘It’s nice that you’re making new friends, Alex. I was worried, what with everything that’s going on with your mom and me, that you might go into some sort of shell or have a breakdown, but you’re handling it really well.’ Then he gave me fifty pounds so I could “have a nice time”.

                I mean, what is that about? I’ve heard about kids extorting money and gifts from their parents when divorce rolls around, but I didn’t think it was true. Parents are idiots.

                Anyway, it’s not like I exactly need the money, since I have a job. I bought my car myself, for example, even if it is a bit shit.

                I work in a nursing home. You know, with old people. Most people think this is a bit disgusting, even Gary, since I have to feed them and wash them and sometimes even change them, and Gary hates old people because it reminds him that no matter how perfect you are in your life, eventually you will lose your senses and become incontinent. I kind of like that about them though because it means I don’t have to feel bad about being so pathetically imperfect. At least I can still wipe myself after the toilet. There’s something to be said for that.

                I like old people. They are so interesting. Like one of the women I look after, Hetty, used to live in a nudist colony. They make her wear clothes at the nursing home, obviously, which she hates, but she has her own little ways of rebelling. She likes to take off her shoes, hide them, and then demand of the nurses to know why they have taken her shoes. Once the nurses find the shoes and put them back on her, she repeats the process. I think it’s funny, but only because I don’t have to find the shoes.

                I don’t know if it’s a coincidence or if my parents planned it this way, but I happen to work on the same days as I live with my dad. I mentioned it to Andie after they first told me, and suggested that my mom had tricked my dad into only having me on days when I’d barely be around. She snorted at this and said it was likely the opposite, that my dad had dibsed me on the days I’d barely be around, because I am so difficult to deal with. It is a good thing I am not sensitive or I might have believed her.

                I start work at five on Wednesday, to allow for time to get home, change, eat, and do my homework. Hetty was being particularly creative with her hiding places today; when I was serving up supper at half six I found one show in the vat of baked beans and all the meals had to be recalled and re-distributed once I’d made a new batch. The fun thing about old people playing tricks is that they can’t get into trouble like if I’d done something like that at school.

                They are adults, they have paid their dues to society, and also they’re a bit nuts so you can’t hold their idiosyncrasies against them. A small part of me is looking forward to being a troublesome pensioner.

                When I got back to my dad’s after work he was sitting in front of the TV in his underwear with a beer in his hand, watching Wheel of Fortune re-runs. I’m not an expert, but I believe this is one of the signs of depression in adults, so I sat down next to him and changed the channel to the mid-week movie, which was Die Hard. He didn’t make any outward signs of improvement, but I think it cheered him up a little. Even I like Die Hard.