Free Jumbo by Todd Young Page A

forward.
    Tadd wasn’t stupid. Mitchell had sometimes thought he was a little slow, but as they worked through a series of examples and Mitchell explained things, he realized that Tadd could grasp things; he just wasn’t confident. The other thing Mitchell noticed was that as he was demonstrating the examples to Tadd, and proving the answers, he began to understand things a little better himself. He hadn’t seen calculus as clearly as he could now, some two hours after they had started.
    “Wow,” Tadd said. “Thanks, man. You don’t know how much of a load off that is.”
    They hadn’t caught right up to date, and Tadd asked if he could come by next Saturday again and work through some more examples with Mitchell, not calling him Jumbo now, as he usually did, but calling him Mitch, which Mitchell supposed was because he wanted something from him.
    Tadd put his hands behind his head and stretched. “That your dog?” he said.
    “Yeah,” Mitchell said. He turned and looked at Sally who was sleeping on her bed in the corner. “She’s getting pretty old. When I was a kid she used to follow me everywhere, and now, sometimes, she still hauls herself up when I walk out of the room, but she’s got arthritis, the vet says.”
    Tadd hopped up and walked over to Sally. He bent down and started patting her gently on the head. She woke up, and started licking his hand, and then she got up and stretched.
    “I think she likes you,” Mitchell said.
    “Yeah?”
    “Yeah. She doesn’t get up for just anybody.”
    Tadd smiled, smiling at Mitchell with his perfect face, with his dimples and square jaw and raked eyebrows, his eyes glinting in the bright sunshine streaming through the bedroom window.
    Mitchell took a deep breath. “Do you want a coffee or anything before you go?”
    “Yeah. Okay.”
    Mitchell got up and they went downstairs. There was some coffee already brewing and his mom said it was fresh.
    “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
    “Sorry. Mom, this is Tadd. Tadd, this is my mom. Mrs Cunningham — Helen. Take your pick.” Mitchell smiled.
    “There’s no reason to be silly about it. You can call me Helen, Tadd.”
    “Thanks,” he said, and they shook hands.
    They walked out onto the back deck to drink their coffee and Mitchell’s mom brought out a plate of carrot cake that she had baked that morning.
    “Wow. Your mom’s pretty nice,” Tadd said. He took a piece of the cake.
    “Yeah?”
    “My mom wouldn’t even want to speak to anyone I brought over. She’d just ignore them.”
    Mitchell nodded, though he didn’t know what to say.
    Sally clattered through the back door, rattling the screen, and came to sit beside Mitchell.
    “She’s followed you.”
    “Yeah. It makes me feel guilty. I know she’s in pain, but it’s just like she feels she has to.”
    Tadd reached down and patted her again.
    “Have you always lived here?”
    “Yeah — ever since I was little. We had another house when I was a baby, but I don’t remember it.”
    “Hell, my parents move every couple of years — always trying to find a better house. My dad renovates them, and then sells them, and then we move up-market again.”
    Mitchell nodded, and there was an uncomfortable silence. He finished off his coffee and they sat side by side, looking over the back yard where the sun was angling golden through the trees.
    “I suppose I should get going,” Tadd eventually said.
    Mitchell led him through the house, walked out onto the porch with him and held the door open for Sally.
    “Thanks again, Mitch,” Tadd said. He put his hand out, and Mitchell shook it. Mitchell stepped down onto the lawn and walked with Tadd toward his car. Sally sniffed at the rear wheel and Mitchell waved to Tadd as he put the car into gear.
    Then Sally was behind the car, behind the rear wheel, and Tadd hadn’t seen her.
    “Sally!” Mitchell said, and he started forward.
    The car roared backwards and struck Sally in the middle,