Free Pretenders by Lisi Harrison Page A

our 4Runner. Rocks and roots were pressed into the mud. Tree branches scraped along our windows like witch nails. These were the only sounds we heard for the last few miles. I liked it that way.
    We pulled into the campground and parked. Dad gripped the steering wheel and lowered his head. He seemed nervous. He wanted to tell me something but was afraid.
    Feeling = He’s dying.
    I started naming Knicks to stay calm. Carmelo Anthony, Earl Barron, Tyson Chandler…
    I got all the way to J.R. Smith before he looked at me.
    DAD: Twenty-five hundred dollars?
    ME: Huh?
    DAD: Are you playing on a team or buying one?
    ME: What are you talking about?
    DAD: The fees. They’re outrageous.
    ME: I hear ya. It’s the travel and motels and stuff. We’re playing fifteen away games. Coach Bammer said it would be double that if First Rate wasn’t sponsoring us.
    DAD: Yeah, I heard about that.
    He said it like it was bad news.
    ME: Hey, maybe if Duffy Commercial Realty sponsored us too it would be cheaper.
    Dad said “ha” but didn’t laugh.
    I started to freak.
    ME: Do you have a disease?
    DAD: No.
    ME: Does Mom?
Bubbie?
    DAD: Why would you think that?
    ME: You guys have been acting all weird lately.
    He lowered his head on the wheel again. I was freaking so hard I grabbed his biceps. It used to feel stronger.
    ME: You’re scaring me, Dad. What is it?
    DAD: Can I trust you?
    ME: Yeah.
    DAD: No, really.
    ME: ’Course.
    DAD: Son—
    ME: What?
    DAD: Your mother and I filed Chapter Eleven.
    ME: Oh.
    DAD: I know what you’re thinking.
    ME: You do?
    DAD: You’re wondering how we let it come to this. Believe me, I ask myself the same thing.
    ME: No I’m not.
    DAD: You’re not?
    ME: No. I’m thinking, what-in-the-H is Chapter Eleven?
    For some reason this made him want to hug me.
    DAD: Let’s set up camp.
    So we set up camp, started a fire, and cooked hot dogs. Then he explained.
    DAD: Chapter Eleven means bankrupt. I can’t pay the bills.
    ME: What bills?
    DAD: Mortgage, payroll, company cars, gas—
    For some reason that orphan Jagger popped into my brain. Would people be leaving clothes by my locker soon, too?
    ME: What about food?
    DAD: No one is going to starve. Don’t worry. But we did close Duffy Commercial. It was the only way to get out of the red.
    ME: The red?
    DAD: It’s an expression. It means out of debt. We have to start a whole new business. We’ve laid the groundwork but it will take time.
    He threw his hot dog into the fire. We watched it burn. I wondered if he should be wasting food.
    He told me it was crucial that I not tell anyone about this. Especially Hudson. First Rate is their top competitor and he doesn’t want them poaching Duffy’s clients. The only way they will be able to make a quick recovery is if this stays a family secret. He made me promise to keep it. I did.
    We got in the tent and zipped up our sleeping bags. Then he said one last thing.
    DAD: Our family will have to make sacrifices, you know. A lot of them.
    ME: Like eating Mom’s cooking?
    He laughed.
    ME: Is that why we got rid of Rosie?
    DAD: Yes.
    He rolled over so his back was to me.
    Coyotes yelped all around us.
    DAD: That’s why I can’t pay your basketball expenses.
    ME: What?
    DAD: I’m sorry, son.
    My legs went numb. My lungs turned to stone. I wasn’t yawning but it was hard to hear.
    ME: Can you lend me the money? I’ll get a job and pay you back right away. A bit each week. I promise.
    DAD: My funds have been frozen.
    ME: But—
    DAD: I’m sorry.
    We didn’t say anything after that. We just lay there, hands folded across our chests, staring up at the canvas roof.
    Eventually Dad fell asleep. I am back outside. How am I going to get $2,500 by Monday?
    I am throwing dry leaves into the fire.
    Feeling = Jealous of dry leaves.
    They get a chance to play with the Flames.
    I never will.

September 22nd
    Forgive me, Journal, for I have sinned. I should be asking for forgiveness, only Dad says when a person is forgiven they must