Chapter Four

Brad left a few days after that. Henry had given me his phone number so I could call him and make plans to meet up with him whenever I wanted to. He had told me that I should start walking around town anymore.

“But you’re a strange one,” he had added. “I’m not even sure if it would be healthy for you, because your so thin.”

“I’ll be fine,” I reassured him. “I walk a lot already, so I guess that’s kind of why I am so thin.”

He laughed. “Well, I’m glad about that. I wheel around whenever I can, but sometimes I must drive, especially to the hospital. Damn hills,” he muttered. It was my turn to laugh.

Staying true to my word, I walked home from Mike’s house; it was only a mile, and my bag wasn’t heavy. Neither was my violin, considering I didn’t bring my sheet music with me.

Again, I didn’t expect much when I got home. No sort of “hello, dear” or “how was your visit at Mike’s?” You get used to it after a while, I guess, but it still felt sort of lonely after all these years. What with sports, I always got home before Brad.

“Kadie! Get me a beer brom uh, um, the bridge-ish, woulds you?” my father called, my only welcome.

“Yeah Dad!” I dumped my bag on the floor in my room before I went into the kitchen and grabbed him a beer from the fridge. Dad was at the table, his eyes crossed and seventeen empty bottles in front of him.

Uh-oh.

“Thish is my favorite shight. My ditter and a beer, both right in bront ob me,” he said, smiling. I’m guessing he meant this, sight, daughter, front, and of in that sentence. He was old and got pretty wasted pretty fast.

“I have to go do some more homework, Dad. I didn’t get a chance to finish it at Mike’s,” I told him, speaking slowly and clearly so he could understand me. His hearing was one of the first things to go.

All I got was a sleepy nod from the drunk. By morning he’d be yelling at us as to why he let him sleep, cold and uncomfortable, in the kitchen. He didn’t tolerate excuses, either.

When I was leaving the door I heard him muttering some things. Things that scared me.

“Stupid boss. Going off and firing me. I’ll kill him.” I wasn’t too scared about him saying that he’d kill the guy. I was scared that he got fired. And that I knew his problem would get worse. Much worse.

~*~*~*~

“I’m so glad you finally called me, Katie. I was wondering when you’d get around to it,” Henry said as he wheeled himself out of the elevator onto the top floor of the library.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, but I was busy,” I replied. Busy trying to handle working overtime all the time to make up for Dad losing his job.

Henry chuckled. “I’m sure you were. Anyway, I’m not going to teach you much about global warming. I’d need more books and a computer with good internet, and I don’t feel like taking that with me here, considering these computers are so old and everything.” I nodded. They had spent money on air-conditioning so they could stay open in the summer, not on new computers.

“So instead, I’m going to tell you how to save on your energy bills which will, sure enough, probably help you reduce a bit of global warming. I will tell you them in question form. You ready?” He had a twinkle in his eye that I wasn’t entirely sure I could trust, but I nodded anyway.

“Good. Do you keep your shades closed in the summer to keep you house cooler?”

“Apartment, not house, and no, Mom keeps them open for the plants.”

Henry waved his hand. “Close them. The plants will live, and if the sun keeps beating in you have to spend more energy on fans and air-conditioning. Next question. Do you keep your shades open during the winter?”

I smiled. “Yes. Again, for the plants.”

Henry nodded. “Fair enough. That’s what you’re supposed to do anyway. The sun keeps your apartment warmer. When it’s not snowing.”

I laughed. “When it’s not snowing.”

“Moving along now. Do you use energy strips to plug in your televisions and cable and such?”

I frowned. “No, but we only have one TV and a DVD player, and we had to get rid of our cable because it cost too much. Dad just lost his job and Mom . . . can’t work.”

He nodded, fully understanding. “Do you unplug your toaster and chargers when you’re done using them?”

“I keep my toaster unplugged most of the time, yes.”

“Upgrade that to all of the time please. Thank you. Do you turn off lights when you leave a room?”

I nodded. “I hardly ever use the lights in my room. Sunlight works just as well for my purposes.”

“Do you use hot, warm, or cold water when taking showers, washing dishes or doing the laundry?”

“Warm for dishes, cold for laundry and showers.” I loved cold showers. They were very refreshing.

“Good, good. Your family is doing very well, my dear. Would you like me to tell you the ‘why’ behind these questions?” I nodded. “Well, as you probably know from common sense. . . .”

He continued to explain to me that for all electricity you needed to burn some sort of gas, and so the less electricity you used the less the local utilities company needed to create, and overall less pollution in the atmosphere. It really did make sense, and seemed extremely easy to do.

After the lesson Henry and I sat outside for a bit. He was babbling. “You know, it really is much too cold in there. If they turned the air-conditioning down just a bit then it would be much more comfortable, much better for the atmosphere, and much more cost effective.”

I laughed at him. “Is this really all you think about? Really?”

“Well, no, not all of the time, but most of the time. That doesn’t matter. Tell me, what are your hobbies? Do you have any?”

“I play the violin,” I replied without giving it a second thought.

He laughed. “Are you any good?”

“Um, kind of, yes. I’ve been playing for a long time,” I told him, blushing.

Henry laughed at me. “That’s good! I know a lot of kids your age that just sit around and talk on the phone or play video games.” I smiled, thinking of Kayla.

He stood up slowly. “Well, I think we’re done for today. I don’t really know how I can teach you without computers and books. Besides, I’m going to be busy making a documentary.”

I got an idea. “Do you need background music? I can do that.”

He stared at me. “Do you compose?”

It was my turn to laugh as I replied, “I’ve been composing for years. You don’t have to worry about that.”

And that was my first out of school project.