Pat’s Story

I hated playing Walter’s stupid druid video game. Probably because I was so bad at it. I died so many times, even Melinda’s little brother was getting frustrated with me.

So, I was more than happy when Miss Christina called up the stairs. “Patrick? Can I talk to you a minute?”

I tossed the remote onto the ground. “Sorry guys.” As I made my way to the stairs, I wondered whether I was in trouble.

I found her in the kitchen. She gestured to the island and had that look in her eye that my mother often got. I couldn’t quite tell whether I was in trouble, but she was definitely concerned about something.

I left a couple of seats between us as I sat down. “Is everything okay?”

She sighed. “Not really. The woman across the street, Carrie? She just called.”

I frowned. “That’s where Melinda’s babysitting, right?”

Miss Christina nodded. “Yes. But Melinda’s in over her head. The boy—I keep forgetting his name. He’s a handful and Melinda could use another set of hands. She thought maybe you could help her.”

I pointed to the ceiling. “No offense, but why are you asking me? Walter’s babysat with her before.”

“Yes, but Melinda specifically asked you to join her. The boy uses Sign Language and Melinda told Carrie that you’re fluent.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I learned for my last film. I still sign with my friends and Sarah’s sister and whoever.”

“Melinda promised she would send you back here when the boy goes to sleep.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t mind.” Maybe I could convince my girlfriend to let me stay for a little while before she kicked me out.

Miss Christina bit her lip. Her worried face looked so much like Melinda’s it was hard not to smile. “Patrick, Carrie’s working all night. She won’t be home until morning. Her husband’s flight keeps getting delayed. It’s probable he won’t be home until, like, two in the morning.” She took a deep breath. “I would feel much more comfortable knowing Melinda wasn’t home alone over there.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You want me to stay?”

“Can I trust the two of you? Because if not, I’ll go over there when my husband gets home.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “No. I mean, of course you can trust us.” I sighed. “With all due respect, Miss Christina? Even if Melinda and I weren’t waiting for marriage, which we totally are, it would be extremely disrespectful to do anything unchaste in someone else’s house.”

She patted my hand with a smirk. “You better mean that. Carrie is leaving soon, so why don’t you go over now? Tell Melinda to call me if she needs help with dinner. I can bring you guys something.”

I pointed to the ceiling as I got to my feet. “I’m just gonna run upstairs super quick, then I’ll go over. Uh, which house is it?”

Smiling, she pointed to the front door. “The brown one.”

“Gotcha. Okay. And thanks for trusting me, Miss Christina.”

She pursed her lips. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Making an X across my chest, I backed out of the kitchen and rushed up the stairs. If we were going to be babysitting at night, I might want my fleece pants after the kid went to sleep.

Actually, Melinda might, too. After tossing my clothes and tablet into my backpack, I headed back downstairs. “Uh, Miss Christina? I was thinking. If Melinda and I are going to be babysitting late, she might want to change into, what do girls call them? My sister has these pajama pants she wears around the house, but not to bed.”

Miss Christina smiled. “Lounge pants. Here.”

While she disappeared into the laundry room, I rifled through the kitchen cabinets, grabbing a couple of packages of microwave popcorn. A moment later, she returned with a set of fuzzy pink pants and a matching shirt.

“Not sure she’ll wear them in front of you, but the thought was nice.”

I bit back my smirk. Melinda had been snowed in at my house a couple of months ago. It wouldn’t be the first time seeing my girlfriend in her pajamas. But I thought it better not to mention that to her mother.

“Call me if you guys have any problems. Even if it’s after midnight.”

I nodded. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. Melinda’s a babysitting pro.”

Miss Christina didn’t look convinced, but I waved goodbye one last time and headed out the front door. The brown house was across the street on the right. I rang the bell, but no one answered. Frowning, I pulled out my phone and texted my girlfriend.

She sent me to the backyard. Seriously? She couldn’t spare thirty seconds to open the door?

Shaking my head, I headed to the driveway, pleased to see a gate in the fence. I could hear Melinda fiddling with the lock. A moment later, she opened the gate a crack.

It was barely wide enough for me to squeeze through. But I was with my girlfriend again, so I couldn’t help but smile. As I closed the gate behind me, I kissed the top of Melinda’s head.

Without taking her eyes away from the swing set, she smiled at me. “Hey, you. I am so glad you’re here.”

I shrugged. “Me, too. Killing elves is boring.” A barefooted child, not even waist-high, was going up the slide the wrong way. I pointed to him. “Is this our charge?”

Nodding, Melinda dragged me to the swing set. “Pat, this is Dax. Dax? This is my friend, Pat. He’s going to play with us.”

I was confused. “I thought he was Deaf.”

Melinda sent me a curious look. “Why did you think that?”

I thought back to my conversation with her mother. “Your mom said he signs.”

Melinda nodded. “He doesn’t speak. But he can hear. Doesn’t really sign that much, either.”

As she explained, I was watching the kid. He climbed from the slide platform onto the crossbeam at the top of the swing set. As I swore under my breath, he started crawling away from the platform.

Melinda didn’t seem concerned. “Dax! Get down from there.”

The boy didn’t listen. Instead, he laid on his stomach, grabbing the beam for dear life and sobbing hysterically. Was he scared or throwing a tantrum? I didn’t know enough about kids to know the answer.

I looked between him and Melinda a few times. “Now what?”

Melinda moved closer, calling up to the kid. “Dax? Are you stuck?”

He signed yes, although he barely moved.

Melinda turned to me, pointing at the top of the slide. “Do you think if you stand there, you can reach him?”

I knew why she was volunteering me. I had a good eight or nine inches on her. But it didn’t mean I had to like the idea.

I frowned. “Maybe. Do we have a choice?”

I left my bag near Melinda and climbed up the wooden slats at the back of the swing set. It felt weird. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done something like this.

When I reached the platform at the top, I looked around. The A-frame swing set had a small crossbeam beside me. Standing on it, I tried to reassure the boy.

“Okay, buddy. I’m going to grab you and help you down, okay?”

As I reached for him, I heard Melinda calling to me. “Pat? He’s saying no.”

“Well, do we have another choice?”

Since Melinda didn’t respond, I tried to grab the boy. He had crawled out of my reach. Great. Now what were we going to do?

“Pat. Come here. I have an idea.”

Hopefully, it would work. But first, I had to get back to the ground. I sat down, but I didn’t slide. Instead, I swung my legs over the side and jumped.

I sent Melinda an expectant look as I made my way to her. “What?”

“I’m going to hold the tire swing steady. You stand on it, and you can probably get Dax down.”

That sounded many kinds of unsafe. “I hate this idea.”

She pursed her lips. “It’s better than the last one.”

“Still doesn’t make it a good idea.”

But she was right. We didn’t have any better options. As I took hold of the chains, Melinda stood on the opposite side of the tire. She was most likely trying to keep it from moving or something, but I was afraid I would end up bowling her over.

Placing one foot on the tire, I tested my weight before pulling myself up all the way. The boy was right near my face. The second he saw me, he released the beam to strangle me. Well, maybe he was trying not to fall, but he wrapped his arms around me with such force, he was cutting off my oxygen supply.

He was also screaming in my ear. I used one hand to hold him close to me and pulled him off the beam. He tightened his grip as I stepped off the swing.

I bent my knees until the kid’s feet were on the ground. As I pulled him off me, I tried to catch his eye.

“You’re safe now. You can stop crying.”

But he didn’t. I glanced at my girlfriend. She was the babysitting expert. She would know what to do.

She pointed to the swing set. “Dax? You want to go in the swing?”

He shook his head, signing something. It looked familiar, but was not something I had seen often.

Melinda sent me an expectant look. “What’d he say?”

I wasn’t positive. “Bus?”

The boy nodded, but I was still confused. Did he want us to take him somewhere? I turned back to Melinda. “Any ideas?”

She dug through the sandbox, eventually pulling out a plastic school bus about the length of my forearm. When Melinda asked if it was the right toy, the kid stopped crying and, running to her, grabbed it. He signed bus repeatedly as he returned to the swing set.

I realized his intention the moment he ran to the back. He wanted to climb while carrying the bus. I didn’t think that was safe.

I ran behind him. “Hey. Careful. Can I hold that for you while you climb?”

Of course, the kid didn’t answer. Faster than lightning, he scaled the back wall to the slide platform. I watched him zoom his bus along all the wooden pieces of the structure. He didn’t seem interested in climbing anymore.

I glanced at Melinda. She was sitting on the back steps. I immediately joined her, resting my head on her shoulder.

“I’ve been here ten minutes and I’m exhausted.”

She giggled. “I’ve been here hours. I’m more tired.”

I felt sorry for her. “We are getting paid for this, right?”

She patted my cheek. “It’ll get better. You’ll see.”

I didn’t see how it could get worse.

Melinda’s Journal

Sunday, March 4

The last time I was home, Walter helped me babysit because I had a broken foot. It was interesting to see him interact with the little girls, reading them a bedtime story with different voices for each of the characters. I got to see a side of him I hadn’t really known existed.

I’m curious what it will be like to babysit with Pat. Somehow, I don’t see him having the patience needed when working with small children. Will I see a different side of him tonight, too?

Will I like what I see?

Melinda’s Story

About ten minutes after Mrs. Kennedy left, my phone signaled an incoming text. I glanced at the readout.

Pat was waiting at the front door. Since I couldn’t leave Dax, who showed no sign of wanting to abandon the playscape, I told Pat to find the gate for the backyard. Thankfully, the lock mechanism was near my head. There was no way Dax could get out.

Even so, I didn’t open the gate very wide. Pat smiled as he squeezed through the opening. Pulling the gate closed behind him, he kissed the top of my head.

I sent him a quick smile. I didn’t want to take my eyes off Dax. “Hey you. I am so glad you’re here.”

Pat smiled. “Me, too. Killing elves is boring.” He gestured to the slide, where Dax was walking up the edges. “Is this our charge?”

I took Pat’s hand, dragging him to the playscape. “Pat, this is Dax. Dax? This is my friend, Pat. He’s going to play with us.”

Pat frowned. “I thought he was Deaf.”

I shook my head. “Why did you think that?”

“Your mom said he signs.”

I nodded. “He doesn’t speak. But he can hear. Doesn’t really sign that much, either.”

Pat swore under his breath, and I followed his gaze. Dax had climbed onto the beam that went across the top of the swings. How had even gotten up there?

I tried to keep my voice firm but calm. “Dax! Get down from there.”

Dax laid on his stomach, hugging the beam as he started bawling.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Pat glancing between me and Dax. “Now what?” Pat looked a little intimidated. I probably would have found it cute if I weren’t so worried about Dax getting hurt.

I moved a little closer to the playscape, ready to catch him if he fell. Raising my voice above his cries, I called up to him. “Dax? Are you stuck?”

He barely moved his hand as he nodded his fist. I spared Pat a quick glance and pointed to the platform at the top of the slide.

“Do you think if you stand there, you can reach him?”

Pat didn’t look confident. “Maybe. Do we have a choice?”

Pat had brought his backpack, though I had no idea why. Dropping it near my feet, he climbed up the back of the playscape. Beside the slide platform, a beam held the front and back legs of the set together. Pat stood on this, slowly reaching above the swings to Dax.

“Okay, buddy. I’m going to grab you and help you down, okay?”

Dax quickly snapped his fingers together, but I didn’t think Pat could see.

I bit my lip. “Pat? He’s saying no.”

“Well, do we have another choice?”

I looked around. One swing was the toddler kind that I knew couldn’t support my weight. But the other was an old car tire. Dax was almost directly above it.

“Pat. Come here. I have an idea.”

He sat on the slide, swinging his legs over the rim and jumping down. “What?”

“I’m going to hold the tire swing steady. You stand on it, and you can probably get Dax down.”

Pat frowned. “I hate this idea.”

“It’s better than the last one.”

“Still doesn’t make it a good idea.”

But he grabbed the swing chains. I ran behind the swing, squatting low and using my body to brace the tire. Pat put one foot on the edge and pulled himself up. He was eye level with Dax. Before Pat could say a word, the boy wrapped his arms around my boyfriend’s neck. Pat placed an arm around the boy’s body as Dax slid onto Pat. Still holding the kid firm, Pat stepped off the swing.

As he lowered Dax to the ground, Pat squatted to be eye level. “You’re safe now. You can stop crying.”

But Dax just stood there sobbing.

I pointed to the toddler swing. “Dax? You want to go in the swing?”

He shook his head, signing something I didn’t understand. I glanced at Pat.

“What’d he say?”

Pat frowned. “Bus?” When Dax nodded, Pat raised his eyebrows at me. “Any ideas?”

I glanced around the yard. Near the house sat a sandbox with some plastic vehicles in it. I searched through them, finding a bus about the size of a milk carton. I held it above my head.

“Dax? Is this what you wanted?”

Dax stopped crying, racing toward me and snatching the bus from my hand. Making the same sign, he ran back to the playscape, climbing up the back with the bus in his hand.

Pat ran behind the boy. “Hey. Careful. Can I hold that for you while you climb?”

Dax ignored him, reaching the slide platform effortlessly. As the bus zoomed along the beams and along the top of the slide, Pat and I settled onto the back stairs.

He rested his head on my shoulder. “I’ve been here ten minutes and I’m exhausted.”

I giggled. “I’ve been here hours. I’m more tired.”

“We are getting paid for this, right?”

Not taking my eyes off Dax, I tapped his cheek. “It’ll get better. You’ll see.”

“You think?”

Not really. But if I didn’t look on the bright side, I wasn’t sure I’d make it through the night.

This episode will be released on Wednesday, October 4.

Attention Hammerheads

Melinda is always trying to build her vocabulary. What were some words in this episode that were new to you? She will add them to her vocabulary journal.