Maybe I'll Get It Right Someday

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

"Shut up," I mumbled, smacking the "Off" button on my alarm clock. I opened one eye to glare at the bright red numbers. It was 11:00 in the morning. "Oh, right," I groaned. I put my glasses on and sat up, stretching my back and arms. "I get to babysit." I did all my domestic things (you know, peeing, dressing myself) and made sure the door to the extra bedroom where I kept all my film junk was closed. A nine-year-old just sounds pretty curious to me. I was afraid she'd get in there, and I don't really show it off to many people. After nearly tripping over one of the two Fender Telecasters in my living room, I made it to the kitchen and made a pot of coffee (of course).

For the rest of the hour, I sat in front of the TV sipping coffee and flipping channels. What do nine-year-old girls watch? God, how I hope it's not Hannah Montana. And then came the sound of the doorbell. "Come in!" I shouted, still too drowsy to do much. I hadn't even taken my meds yet.

The door opened slightly and Lori's head popped through. She smiled and opened it the rest of the way, gently nudging Matilda and the purple backpack into the living room. "Hi, Justin!" Lori said. "Thanks so much for taking her today." Lori walked over to the couch and, when I least expected it, planted a friendly kiss on my scruffy cheek. Thankfully, I don't blush. At least I don't think I blush. "She's had breakfast, but there hasn't been time for lunch. I found out that I have to be there until five because of a meeting, so you'll have her all day. Which means she'll have to eat. I know I promised you that you wouldn't have to worry about feeding her and I'm sorry about that. Right now I really have to go. Thanks again!" She kissed my cheek again before dashing out the door and leaving me with her kid. Matilda stood in the middle of the room, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

"You can sit down, kiddo," I said. I pointed at the chair next to the couch. She dropped her backpack next to the couch and plopped down, her feet dangling just above the floor. "How are you?"

"Okay, I guess."

"Do you want to watch TV?" I asked. She shook her head. "Are you hungry?" This time, I got a slow nod. "Wanna eat here, or should we go someplace?"

"Go somewhere."

"How does Dairy Queen sound? They have really good chicken strips. And then we can have banana splits or something afterward."

"Okay!"

"All right, we'll go to Dairy Queen as soon as I'm done taking my medication."

I went into the kitchen and Matilda followed, sitting in one of the five chairs that circled my table. I think you can guess why there are five of them. She watched me shake an antihisthamine tablet out of a bottle and into my hand. I popped it into my mouth and swallowed a gulp of water. "What's that pill for?" Matilda asked.

"Allergies."

"Oh." I took my antidepressant. "What's that pill for?"

"Depression."

"Like when you're sad all the time?" I nodded. "Don't be sad, Justin." I smiled at her and took my OCD med. "What's that pill for?"

"Obsessive Compulsive Disorder."

"What's Assesive Cupolsive Disorder?"

"We can just call it OCD. I don't really know how to explain it. There are just things that I have to do, and a certain way I have to do them. If I do them wrong, I have to do them all over again."

"Oh." I took a multivitamin. "What's that pill for?"

"Let me put it this way, have you ever had Flinstones vitamins?" She nodded. "It's like those."

"Oh." I put my inhaler in my pocket. "What's that?"

"It's an inhaler. If I can't breathe, I have to use it and then I can breathe again. I have asthma."

"Okay. Are we going now? I'm hungry."

"Yep, we're going." I grabbed my keys off the counter and Matilda and I headed out to my car.

We got to Dairy Queen and ordered only one chicken strip basket. I didn't think Matilda would be able to eat an entire thing, so I offered to split one with her. "Let's get to know each other, shall we?" I asked Matilda after sipping my root beer. "Where were you born?"

"Seattle, Washington. Where were you born?"

"Mahtomedi, Minnesota."

"Mahto-what now?"

"MAH-tow-MEE-dye," I repeated, clearly pronouncing each syllable.

"Where's that?"

"Between St. Paul and Stillwater. What do you like to watch on TV?"

"I don't really watch TV. I like movies, though. My favorite movie is Fat Albert."

"Really? I used to watch that cartoon series. There was always a lesson. What about music? What kind of music do you like?"

"Pop-rock kind of stuff. I really love Metro Station and The Almost." I wasn't about to point out to her that Metro Station mostly sings about sex.

"You like Metro Station, huh? I produced a few songs for them."

"No you didn't!"

"I did so! It says so on their album credits. I'm Justin Pierre. Maybe you've heard my band, too? We're called Motion City Soundtrack."

"Never heard of ya."

"I'll have you listen to some of our stuff when we get back. I think you'd like it."

We were both too full for banana splits, so we got ice cream cones. Mine was dipped in chocolate. Yummy.

"Listen to this," I said, putting a disc into my stereo when we returned from Dairy Queen. I cued up track two on Even If It Kills Me.

"What's this song called?" Matilda asked me.

"It's called This Is For Real."

"Oh. It's good. I like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Can I use the bathroom?"

"Oh, sure. It's down the hall, second door on the left." A few seconds later, I realized what I had said. Shit! The bathroom was the first door on the left. The one to which I had directed Matilda was my movie room. Remember, the one I said I don't like to show off? "Wrong door!" I shouted, hopping up from the couch. By the time I reached her, she was standing in the middle of the room, staring with fascination at everything around her.

"What's all this?" she nearly whispered.

"Film stuff. I'm a director. There's a lot in here that I never finished, and a few things that I did. There's one film in here that's been shown at film festivals around the country." I made a mental note to get a lock for that door.

"Cool! I didn't know you were a director."

"Now you do."

She left the room to use the bathroom. When she returned, I showed her some of what I'd worked on, and told her how I did it. She listened intently, asking tons of questions. After a while, we went back to the living room and I turned on my DVD player. "Let's watch a movie, huh?" I suggested.

"Okay," Matilda said. "I brought Corpse Bride."

"Well, put it in the player, Matilda."

"You can call me Tilly, you know." She gently placed her DVD in the player. I closed the tray and pressed play on the DVD menu. Sometimes I wish I could be as twisted as Tim Burton. But he's Tim, and I'm Justin. I think you can catch the difference.

The movie ended just as Lori was showing up to pick upMatilda Tilly. "Did you have a good time with Justin?" Lori asked when Tilly ran to the door with her backpack.

"Yes! He's a director, mom! He made movies! It's so cool, right? And we went to Dairy Queen!" Tilly rambled everything in one breath. I didn't know I was that cool.

"How was she, Justin?" Lori asked me.

"She was fine," I replied. I stood up to join Lori and Tilly at the door. "She's a great kid."

Lori and I smiled, looking into each other's faces, into each other's eyes. I still didn't think she looked like a thirty-year-old woman. Tilly interrupted before it got awkward. "Bye, Justin!" she said, hugging me around my waist.

"Woah! Bye, Tilly." I hugged her, and she and Lori left my house. Now what am I going to do for the rest of the night?