I got the job on one condition: I had to go back to school.

Jodi told Mr. Shaw about my dropping out to become a man, and the first thing out of Mr. Shaw's mouth was something along the lines of what the hell was I thinking, dropping out of school. He told me that was about the least manly thing he could think of to do, and the last thing my mum needed was a perfectly good brain being wasted by her git of a son.

I said I would go back. I needed the job, and Hemingway waited for no one.

Dad's next birthday, which was the same day as my seventeenth birthday, was how long I was giving myself to finish the list. It was going to be a big deal, and we had already started planning for it, because Dad was supposed to have turned sixty on his next birthday. It would be one last birthday present I could give to him.

I had six months.

Viktor told me to make a few slight changes. He suggested that I just go through the process of making the son, and that having it would come along naturally later. I said that the list said I had to actually have a son.

He told me to shut up.

I told him to shut up.

We agreed to disagree.

Mr. Shaw made me promise in writing that I was going back to school, and I had to sign a form in triplicate. I wondered how many more 'plicates' there were past triplicate, or if you could go below 'du'plicate. I'd never seen any mono or uniplicates.

"Thanks, Will," Mr. Shaw said as he gathered the forms. "You mean a lot to Jodi, and if I can help you in any way I can, I will. If it means giving you a job to keep you out of trouble while you screw your head on right, so be it."

"Thank you, Mr. Shaw," I said. "I really appreciate it. Now, where do I start?"

I worked hard. I once had a boss that told me I wasn't very strong, but I had more work in me than a pack mule. Mr. Plumpy's didn't require quite that much commitment from its employees, but I did go out of my way to make everyone's day run a little smoother. Mr. Shaw put me in the back first, which was just fine by me. I didn't have to deal with customers unless Mr. Shaw asked me to go and sweep the lobby. I always thought that lobbies were in hotels, where the rich people gathered and discussed their luggage and coffee preferences. The lobby at Mr. Plumpy's was what Mr. Shaw called the area where the humans sat down and threw back their food. One week after starting at Mr. Plumpy's, I held up my end of the bargain and went back to school. My mum only let me work on weekends, because she didn't want to see my school work suffer. It was going to take a long time to save money that way, but I figured I wasn't spending too much, so I should be okay.

It was weird going back. I hadn't been gone for that long, but it felt like I had been gone for a hundred years. Everyone was really surprised to see me, and no one was more upset to see me than Martin Roy. His face was still yellowish from when I line drove a ball into his brain, and I felt a certain amount of guilty satisfaction when I saw his ugly face again. Six months to go, four enormous tasks. Every day had to count; every second had to be productive. There was something waking up inside, something that been dead right through Christmas, New Year's, and all the way to this moment. It was tired, sick, and not quite sure if it wanted to wake up yet, but it was alive.

Six months to manhood.

I had to get to work.

"What are you doing up, Will?'

"I heard you come in. Who was watching us?"

"John from next door, just like last time."

"Okay. What was it?"

"A girl." 

"Another one? Man..."

"She's amazing. Madeline."

"Good name. How's Mum?"

"She's my hero."

"Really?"

"Yeah." 

"What time is it, Dad?"

"About 5:30. I just came home to see how you guys were doing. We'll go visit them when everyone's awake."

"Do you remember me, Dad?"

"What?"

"Do you remember when I was born?"

"Always."

"Was I amazing?"

"You were a pain in the ass. You wouldn't eat. Mum had to keep flicking your feet to keep you from falling asleep."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah."

"What's wrong, Dad?"

"Your mum had a scary moment today."

"What?" 

"They had to save your mum's life. I couldn't imagine..."

"Don't say it, Dad. If you say it, I won' be able to stop thinking about it."

"I know. I can't."

"She' s okay now."

"Yes. Your sister is eating like a madwoman."

"So, what's worse...me not eating or Madeline nearly killing Mum?"

"You're sick."

"It's kind of funny."

"Yeah, kind of." 

"Can I go wake everyone else up?"

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea."