For three years I had been cursed with metal and wires glued to my teeth. But finally, I was going to be freed from their grasp. I'd been poked, prodded, and pulled. I'd had my mouth rearranged by the forces of time and Dr. Martin's orthodontic expertise. But it was finally over. It was time to say goodbye to my braces!
I sat in that chair, that same chair in which I'd had so much work done to me over the last few years. I could remember the day when they'd started. How I'd dreaded what was to happen to me! A much smaller, twelve-year-old Billy Roberts had entered that office that autumn day with a big gap between his two front teeth and an overbite and left the office with a mouthful of metal. I didn't smile for a week afterward. My best friend, Brett Reilly, kept insisting that braces were cool and that he wanted them himself, but he didn't know what he was talking about. It was a terrible way to start the seventh grade. But all of that was about to be behind me. Now, on a blustery and cold day in March of 2003, my long orthodontic nightmare was finally coming to a close.
Dr. Martin sat down beside me and did some exploring inside my mouth. I looked out the window at the darkening sky. We were going to have another winter storm soon. The weathermen had been almost giddy with tales of how much snow we were going to get. The groundhog had been proven right when he said six more weeks of winter. We had been pounded with snow all February, and it looked like March was going to be more of the same.
"I'm sorry Billy," Dr. Martin said. "I don't think you're ready yet."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You need at least another three months, maybe longer," Dr. Martin replied.
I felt my heart drop through my guts. I had to fight to keep from exploding, but I managed to keep my cool. I'd gotten much better at controlling my temper in the last year. I just grimaced and replied, "Well, I guess if you have to..."
"Nah, I'm just kidding you. We're going to take them off today," he said with a chuckle. "I get them every time with that one!"
I just stared at him. "If you don't start getting these things off me, I'm going to do it myself."
"Whoa! Easy there tiger!" Dr. Martin laughed. "You'll be beating the girls off with a stick in no time."
Dr. Martin was joined by an assistant, who did most of the work while Dr. Martin worked on another kid. Having my braces taken off was much easier than having them put on. It reminded me of when I'd had the pins taken out of my broken hand. They had to knock me out to put the pins in, but they just numbed me to take them out. I'd expected it to be more difficult. The assistant pulled the bands and wires off for the last time and then they used some kind of chemical to loosen the glue on my teeth. After a few minutes, they just pulled the metal brackets right off like they were nothing. After that, they did a simple cleaning and it was over. The whole process took about a half hour, if that! They gave me a mouthwash and then I was done. I slid my tongue all over the front of my teeth, and for the first time in four years there was nothing in my mouth that wasn't a part of me!
"So do you want to see?" Dr. Martin asked as he handed me a mirror.
I took the mirror and held it up to my face. I smiled. The boy in the mirror smiled back at me, a boy who had no gap, no overbite, and no braces! I couldn't help but smile! I couldn't quite say I was me again, because I'd had braces for so long that they were almost a part of me. No. This was a new and improved Billy Roberts looking at me from the mirror. I kept running my tongue over my teeth, feeling them as if for the first time again.
"Now let's get a mold for your retainer," Dr. Martin said, ruining what had been a perfect moment. It didn't take long for the dental assistant to take the necessary molds of my mouth and just like that I was released! I would have to come back in a few days to pick up my retainer, and I'd have a few follow up appointments, but it was truly and finally over. No more braces! I wanted to dance!
I walked out to the lobby and mom insisted on seeing what the dental insurance had paid for. For once, I was more than happy to show off my smile. She said I looked fantastic, and then we scheduled my next appointment for a few days later to pick up my retainer.
With one bit of teenage business behind us, we quickly prepared for the next teenage milestone. "Do we still have time?" I asked as we walked through the parking lot.
"Your appointment isn't until three o'clock. The question is, are you ready?" mom asked, handing me the keys.
"Mom, I've been preparing for this moment my whole life. I aced the permit exam. Dad's trained me to parallel park. You've let me drive everywhere we've gone for the past two months. I've never been more ready for anything in my life."
I sat in the driver's seat and drove confidently to the licensing center. It was time for me to get my driver's license. I couldn't believe how awesome the day had turned out. I'd had an early dismissal from school. I'd had my braces taken off. And now I was going to get my license! Could life be any sweeter than this?
When we got to the licensing center, I parked in a short line of cars in the testing area. I watched as the cars ahead of me honked their horns and flashed their lights. Then each one drove off, and I moved closer to the front of the line. After what seemed like an eternity, it was my turn. I wasn't even nervous! I had never failed a test in my whole life, I wasn't about to fail now!
"Now remember, Billy, relax. You know what you're doing. I believe in you. You just need to relax, that's all. Relax," mom said, really not helping me to relax at all.
My mom gave the man giving the test her license information and signed a paper for me. Then she went into the center to wait. I easily honked the horn and turned all of the appropriate lights on and off for the tester. Then he sat in the car next to me.
"Roberts, eh?" he asked. "William Aaron Roberts."
"Yeah. But everybody calls me Billy," I replied.
"Can you pull up to the white line, William?"
"Sure," I replied. I did as he asked. I turned the car this direction and that. I parallel parked. I followed the squiggly lines on the pavement. I drove the car out into the street, just like he asked. This was going exactly as I'd planned. I was on a roll. The tester laid his pen down and we even had a nice little conversation as we drove around the neighborhood. We quickly approached the licensing center again.
"Okay, Billy. Just pull in here and you'll be all done," the tester said.
"No problem," I replied. I turned my turn signal on and pulled into the road he'd told me to turn into. Suddenly, to my horror, I realized I had just pulled into the exit instead of the entrance. I gasped and slammed the brakes, almost running head first into a car.
"I can back out!" I explained in panic.
"No, you can't," he replied. "I'm sorry, son. I meant to turn into the entrance up ahead, not the exit." The car I'd almost hit pulled around us, the driver giving me a dirty look as she passed. "Just pull up to the building."
I did as he asked. I parked in front of the building, and then I closed my eyes and rested my head on the steering wheel. I couldn't believe I'd just been so stupid.
"Well, I actually have to change this report because I'd already signed it as passed. I've never had anyone pull in the wrong way before."
I groaned audibly.
"Don't worry. You can come back in a week."
I groaned again.
"You'll be fine, son. I'm sorry." He left the car and I watched him go into the building and talk to my mom. I slid myself over the gear shifter thingy and into the passenger seat. I couldn't believe how stupid I felt. I never wanted to drive again.
Mom walked to the car. She had walked to the passenger door, but finding me sitting there, she walked around the car to the driver's side. I wasn't so much angry as I was humiliated. I sat there with my arms crossed looking out the window. How could I have been such an idiot? I was numb. I had never failed a test in my life. Mom knew better than to talk to me. She simply started the car and began the drive home. The snow was beginning to fall, but it wasn't yet sticking to the road.
"We can schedule the test again in a week if you want," she suggested.
"I'm never driving again," I sulked.
"Oh stop it!"
"I'm serious," I moped. "This sucks so bad."
"Well you can sit there and feel sorry for yourself or you can keep on practicing and come back even better next time."
"How is practicing going to help me? I went in the wrong exit! I suck!"
"Okay then," mom said. "We'll just forget about it and your father and I will drive you everywhere you need to go for the rest of your life."
"Why can't you let me be mad without rubbing it in?" I asked. "I just bombed in the most humiliating way possible. I feel like a moron. I just want to be mad for a while. Is that too much to ask?"
"No, I suppose not," she said. We drove along in silence for a while as the snow became a lot heavier. "I saw Joey at church the other day," she said, hoping to change the subject. "He's such a nice boy, Billy. I don't know why you don't get along with him."
"I don't get along with him because he's a jerk, mom," I replied. "Just because he goes to your stupid church doesn't mean he's a nice boy. He might have been nice when we were in elementary school, but things change. I hate him and he hates me. You don't know what he does at school. He's got everybody convinced he's this nice kid, but once nobody's looking he turns into a dick. I mean, did you forget that he almost got me expelled last year?"
"I don't see why that should stop you from trying to be friends," mom replied. "Brett punched you in the mouth and you were best friends again by the next morning."
"That's because he's Brett. He was sorry he did it. He apologized and I forgave him." I replied. "Joey's not sorry. He's even more of a jerk than ever! You only know the side of him he wants you to see. You don't know what he's like when adults aren't around."
"Well I can't believe that. He's been nothing but a gentleman. His parents are pillars of the community. You should give him a second chance. He'd certainly be better for you than that Dustin."
"Mom don't start," I sighed. I knew she was going to bring Dustin up again for the hundredth time. "I've told you, Dustin's alright. He's just got a lot on his mind. He's definitely a better person than Joey!"
Mom laughed. "Dustin Smith a better boy than Joey McKenzie? That's ridiculous! Just look at their parents! Joey is a good Christian boy who has been nothing but a saint since your argument. Dustin is nothing more than a thief and a thug. Just look at him. I don't like the influence he has had on you. I mean look at your hair."
"Oh please! My hair's got nothing to do with Dustin," I protested. Sure my dark blond hair was getting longer. I'd got it cut in August before school started and hadn't cut it since then. Now, almost eight months later it was down almost to my shoulders in the back and past my ears on the sides. But that wasn't because of Dustin. It was just the way I felt like having my hair. I wondered how long I could go until I got tired of it, but as long as it was annoying mom I was willing to keep it no matter how unmanageable it got.
"And after what he did to his neighbor..." mom continued bitching.
"Mom, I agree with you that what he did to Mike was really dumb," I said. "But it was just a one-time mistake and now he's being crucified for it!"
"I hardly think comparing his situation to what Jesus went through is an appropriate comparison," mom said. "Jesus never stole a car. I don't trust him, Billy, and I don't want you to be around him. I certainly don't want him in my house."
It was becoming more and more difficult to defend Dustin after what he had done to Mike during Thanksgiving break. Mike had worked so hard to protect Dustin and had given him a job. But then Dustin stole Mike's Mustang and drove it all over town. The police found it parked it in the middle of the Donora-Monessen bridge. Dustin was sitting on the edge of the bridge looking out over the water, waiting for them to arrest him. Mike was pissed. Dustin got in a lot of trouble. He had to go to juvenile court and he wasn't allowed to get his license until he turned eighteen. Mike didn't press any charges but the police did. He pled guilty, and his record would be erased when he turned eighteen too. No one was really surprised when he could barely move when he came back to school. Most people figured his dad beat the shit out of him, and so did I. Something had definitely changed in him since then. He stopped playing basketball and quit the high school baseball team right before the season started. Mike wanted nothing to do with him. He would sometimes come to school barely able to walk, and he was so pale you could almost see through him. He hardly talked to me anymore, or anyone else. His greasy black-dyed hair was so long it was able to cover his face completely and was half-way down his back. He always wore black to match his hair color. Even his shoes were black. Since Mike had fired him, I suspected that Dustin had gone back to selling himself for money up at the park again. Of course, that was if he had ever stopped at all even when Mike was paying him.
To be honest, mom really didn't have much to worry about as far as him having any bad influence on me, because I was just as concerned about him as she was, maybe even more so because of my suspicions about his health and career. Even Brett had eased up on his worrying about my relationship with Dustin, because there was barely even a relationship to speak of anymore. I hadn't really talked to him in weeks. It just made me mad when my mom tried to run my life.
When we got home, I didn't feel much like eating. The snow had turned into a blizzard. School had already been cancelled for Friday, so I further delayed doing the paper that was due Monday when we got back to school since it would now be a three-day weekend. I asked mom if Brett could come over, and she said that he could if he could find a way over through the snow. I quickly called Brett's new cell phone he'd gotten for Christmas.
"William," Brett said when he answered.
"Anthony," I replied.
"Did you get it?" he asked.
"Nah... I messed up," I replied.
"Shit!" Brett replied. "You mad?"
"Nah. I'll try again next week. School's cancelled tomorrow."
"Yeah, I know. It's like God is giving me a wonderful birthday present," Brett replied. His sixteenth birthday was coming on Saturday.
"You want to come over tonight before it gets too bad?"
"Okay. I'll have to call my mom to tell her. She's probably going to stay in the city overnight anyway. I'll drive the four-wheeler over and in the morning we can plow people out and make some money."
"You going to be okay driving over here in this weather?" I asked.
"Dude, it's me," Brett replied.
"That's what I'm worried about!" I said. "Well, just be careful." I warned.
Once the plans with Brett had been made, I felt a lot better. I joined my parents at the dining room table and let them know that Brett was coming. Mom wasn't too happy that he was going to be driving the four-wheeler over in a snowstorm, but it was an essential part of our plan to make lots of money plowing driveways. About halfway through dinner, dad finally noticed I didn't have braces anymore. I swear if I didn't have to eat from time to time my parents would probably forget they had a kid.
And we're back! I hope you'll enjoy part five. This is the calm before the storm. There are some intense chapters and
moments ahead, so you may want to use your best discretion as you continue reading. It's going to be a bumpy ride!
Any thoughts on this chapter? I'd love to hear them! You can reach me at jkwsquirrel@yahoo.com
Next time: The Plowing Day