Read Online 10 Things to Do Before I Die by Daniel Ehrenhaft - Free Book Online
Authors: Daniel Ehrenhaft
Tags: United States, Fiction, General, People & Places, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Psychology, Social Issues, New York (N.Y.), Friendship, best friends, Anxiety, Health & Daily Living, Diseases; Illnesses & Injuries, Emotions, Terminally ill
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room for my knapsack.
Whoa. Not a good idea. Leo’s synthetic poison makes dashing very difficult. By the time I reach the door, dashing has degenerated into stumbling. I decide to crawl. What the hell? I collapse to the rug and make my Way toward the knapsack—I can see the thing, right by my bed—got it! Now all I have to do is fumble through the open pocket… . There. The napkin. I grab it and prop myself up on my elbows, gritting my teeth once more to help fight the dizziness:
BURGER’S SPRING BREAK
Lose virginity.
Jam With Shakes the Clown.
PARTY With Shakes the Clown.
Get back at Billy Rifkin.
“I have to finish this list,” I Whisper aloud. “Then I have to do everything on it.”
“Ted?” Nikki calls from the living room. “Are you okay?”
“Be right there!” I shout.
I force myself to my feet. I Walk—very slowly and cautiously—back down the hall toward the living room. I use the Walls as a crutch. And in the process, something else extraordinary happens. Somehow I manage to see those Walls for the first time. I really, truly observe the Walls of the Burger family apartment. Framed photos are everywhere, like a plague: dozens of them, hundreds, maybe even thousands. It’s just …
I’ve never noticed them before. Not like this. I mean, how often do you really take a good, objective look at your own home? How often do you step back and soak in the place you’ve lived your entire life? But death has given me a new perspective. If I felt my life flashing before my eyes back at the diner, When Leo pulled the Water gun, Well, now it’s happening outside my mind and in real time. My life is literally flashing before my eyes. Frame by frame.
And not just my own. The lives of every person my parents have ever met: every friend, every client, every casual acquaintance—even Mr. Hammurabi, the deli guy across the street— they’re all included, too, somewhere.
I pause in front of a part of Wall space dedicated entirely to me.
So many pictures …
There I am, holding my electric guitar right after Mom and Dad unveiled it for my eleventh birthday. There I am, strumming it happily. There I am, sticking my tongue out at Mom as she yells at me to stop playing so I can Watch an important commercial.
And sure enough, there I am again, one picture away, in front of the TV.
There are even several shots of Rachel and me. She’s Wearing the same infinitely nice smile in all of them. My eyes grow misty. Now I finally understand Why my mom and dad mount so many photos on the Wall. Each represents a perfect, illustrative moment. The display is like a trailer for the movie of their lives. And now my own personal trailer is about to be yanked from theaters—
“Ted!” Nikki shouts.
She’s standing right in front of me. I nearly fall over. She loops my arm around her shoulders and escorts me back to the sofa, the Way a medic might escort a Wounded soldier away from battle.
Mark has started pacing again.
“You gotta call your parents, dude,” he says, stroking his chin, distracted. “You gotta let them know What happened. This is bad. I mean, this is really bad, you know?”
I nod. “Yeah, I know it’s bad.”
“So?”
“So What’s the point of calling them? I mean, seriously. They’re never around When I need them. They’re never even around When I don’t need them. They’re just never around. Even When they are here, they aren’t really here. You know? They’re so Wrapped up in each other and their Work that they don’t see anything other than themselves, or their agenda, or their pictures on the Wall … and if you Want to know the truth, you guys are more of a family to me than they are. I’m not kidding. I spend more time With you. I learn more from you. I—”
I shut up.
Mark and Nikki are both staring at me. Their lips are trembling.
What the hell did I just say? Now I know for sure the poison is taking effect because something is Wrong With my brain— something
Whoa. Not a good idea. Leo’s synthetic poison makes dashing very difficult. By the time I reach the door, dashing has degenerated into stumbling. I decide to crawl. What the hell? I collapse to the rug and make my Way toward the knapsack—I can see the thing, right by my bed—got it! Now all I have to do is fumble through the open pocket… . There. The napkin. I grab it and prop myself up on my elbows, gritting my teeth once more to help fight the dizziness:
BURGER’S SPRING BREAK
Lose virginity.
Jam With Shakes the Clown.
PARTY With Shakes the Clown.
Get back at Billy Rifkin.
“I have to finish this list,” I Whisper aloud. “Then I have to do everything on it.”
“Ted?” Nikki calls from the living room. “Are you okay?”
“Be right there!” I shout.
I force myself to my feet. I Walk—very slowly and cautiously—back down the hall toward the living room. I use the Walls as a crutch. And in the process, something else extraordinary happens. Somehow I manage to see those Walls for the first time. I really, truly observe the Walls of the Burger family apartment. Framed photos are everywhere, like a plague: dozens of them, hundreds, maybe even thousands. It’s just …
I’ve never noticed them before. Not like this. I mean, how often do you really take a good, objective look at your own home? How often do you step back and soak in the place you’ve lived your entire life? But death has given me a new perspective. If I felt my life flashing before my eyes back at the diner, When Leo pulled the Water gun, Well, now it’s happening outside my mind and in real time. My life is literally flashing before my eyes. Frame by frame.
And not just my own. The lives of every person my parents have ever met: every friend, every client, every casual acquaintance—even Mr. Hammurabi, the deli guy across the street— they’re all included, too, somewhere.
I pause in front of a part of Wall space dedicated entirely to me.
So many pictures …
There I am, holding my electric guitar right after Mom and Dad unveiled it for my eleventh birthday. There I am, strumming it happily. There I am, sticking my tongue out at Mom as she yells at me to stop playing so I can Watch an important commercial.
And sure enough, there I am again, one picture away, in front of the TV.
There are even several shots of Rachel and me. She’s Wearing the same infinitely nice smile in all of them. My eyes grow misty. Now I finally understand Why my mom and dad mount so many photos on the Wall. Each represents a perfect, illustrative moment. The display is like a trailer for the movie of their lives. And now my own personal trailer is about to be yanked from theaters—
“Ted!” Nikki shouts.
She’s standing right in front of me. I nearly fall over. She loops my arm around her shoulders and escorts me back to the sofa, the Way a medic might escort a Wounded soldier away from battle.
Mark has started pacing again.
“You gotta call your parents, dude,” he says, stroking his chin, distracted. “You gotta let them know What happened. This is bad. I mean, this is really bad, you know?”
I nod. “Yeah, I know it’s bad.”
“So?”
“So What’s the point of calling them? I mean, seriously. They’re never around When I need them. They’re never even around When I don’t need them. They’re just never around. Even When they are here, they aren’t really here. You know? They’re so Wrapped up in each other and their Work that they don’t see anything other than themselves, or their agenda, or their pictures on the Wall … and if you Want to know the truth, you guys are more of a family to me than they are. I’m not kidding. I spend more time With you. I learn more from you. I—”
I shut up.
Mark and Nikki are both staring at me. Their lips are trembling.
What the hell did I just say? Now I know for sure the poison is taking effect because something is Wrong With my brain— something
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