Chapter 10

Twenty minutes later, I pounded on Bald John's front door. The door was painted red and white, like the team's jerseys, yet another indication of the Johns' dedication to the team. The house itself was brick, relatively small, and had a large garden out front full of vegetables and roses. Gardening, I knew from the Swindontown Gazette, was a hobby of Other John Green's. I wondered if Bald John would keep it up, now that Other John was gone.

No one answered the door, so I knocked again, this time louder and harder. I knocked until I felt a little breathless, and I had to steady myself against the door. Stupid lungs

Suddenly I heard someone inside running up to the door. It swung open, and standing there was Bald John Green.

"John?" He cried as it opened. "Is that -" Then he noticed me. His face fell, his mouth forming a tight line. "Oh."

The look he gave me, one full of disappointment, made me want to run away from the house. But of course, I couldn't run. And I don't mean that in "Oh I have to face my problems" kind of way. I was perfectly prepared to bury my head in the metaphorical sand, but I am physically incapable of running. Besides, I knew I deserved whatever Bald John was going to say to me.

"John," I said, my voice sounding weak to my own ears. "I'm so sorry."

Bald John sighed. His face was blotchy, from crying, and I noticed he was wearing two different socks. "It's okay, Hazel. It's just, when I heard the knocking, I thought it was John, and then it turned out to be you…"

"I know," I said. "It's my fault."

"No, Hazel. It's not. It's mine."

As much as I didn't want Bald John to hate me, I also didn't like to see him blaming himself. I knew I had to tell him what I had said to Other John.

"John…" I began, but I was interrupted.

"Hazel?" I heard Dank call from inside the house. He came walking up behind Bald John, and put his arm around Bald John's shoulder. They were same height, I noticed, or maybe Dank was just a tiny bit taller.

Unlike Bald John, Dank looked thrilled to see me. He grinned and patted Bald John on the back. "There, there, John," he said. "The three of us will get this straightened out. And you have to admit," he said, holding my gaze, "Life in Swindon has certainly been more interesting ever since Hazel G. arrived."

A few minutes later, we were sitting around a small table in John's kitchen. Dank made us all mugs of chamomile tea, all the while chattering on about the weather and the latest episode of Doctor Who, as if nothing was wrong. I noticed, when I walked into the kitchen, that there was a mostly-empty pot of oatmeal on the stove. I, being a creep, knew that oatmeal was one of Bald John's favorite foods. (I read it in an interview online, I think.) I wondered if Dank had made it for him, and if that was why he was so much calmer now than he had been when Dank first called me.

"Alright, let's get down to business," Dank said, setting the mugs down on the table. He sat down next to me. Bald John was across from me, and I couldn't meet his reddened eyes. "Milk or sugar, Hazel?" Dank asked. I shook my head no.

"Okay, John," Dank said, "tell Hazel exactly what the note said about her."

Bald John looked up from his mug. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He bit his lip, and I could tell he was trying not to cry. I was somewhat of an expert in the field of trying not to cry, since I never wanted to cry in front of my parents, so I knew what it looked like. Bald John looked at Dank and shook his head.

"Okay, John, you just drink your tea. I'll tell her." Dank looked at me. "So, as I mentioned on the phone, I haven't seen the note, but it appears that Other John said something about you inspiring him. Something about how, after he spoke to you last night, he felt moved to go out and explore the world, or something. Of course, we all know that Other John has been saying things like this for a long time, hinting that he wanted to do something to change his life. So we don't blame you, Hazel, right John?" John nodded, not looking up from his mug. "But it's like a puzzle, and you're the missing piece. And we're hoping once we know what you said to Other John, we'll be able to put it all together and know where he went. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "But I think it is my fault." Dank opened his mouth to protest, but I spoke over him. "No, really. It was so stupid. I was trying to help, but it was so stupid." I couldn't figure out where to begin, how to explain what I had done and why. I thought of something Gus wrote in his letter to Van Houten: "My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations." That was what it felt like. Or like there were marbles in my mouth, and then when I opened it, they all came spilling out at once: "So Dank told me about Other John's sort of personal crisis, and how he was feeling sad and stuff. And since I have cancer, sometimes people think I know more about the world, even though I actually don't. I actually know nothing, as evidenced by the current situation. Anyway, so I thought I would play to that notion of cancer kids, so I told Other John some bullshit – sorry – about how life was worth living and the world was good. And I told him about how so many people I had loved had died, and how watching the Swoodilypoopers fight on made me want to fight on, because I thought that would make him feel better and, I don't know, important."

I tried to take a deep breath, and then I took a big swig of my tea. It burned my throat.

Both John and Dank were staring at me now. To my surprise, John spoke first.

"Well, it all makes sense now." He looked at me. "You have no idea how hearing something like that would affect John. He's so caring, and giving. He's probably off at a hospital somewhere right now, seeing if he can donate his limbs to the patients." With that, Bald John got up and left the room, giving me one last shaming look on his way out, and indeed I was ashamed.

"Ughsdfsd" I said, putting my head on the table. I felt so small, like a child who had snuck into her mother's office, trying to help, and instead had deleted ten year's worth of work.

I felt Dank Green's hand, warm on my shoulder. "Hey, it's okay, Hazel. Bald John will get over it. And Other John will come back. Or better yet, we'll track him down ourselves."

I raised my head and gave him a doubtful look.

"Yeah, we will. We'll be like Holmes and Watson, in the Case of the Missing Puff. Now, do you think you're more of the Holmes type, or the Watson? Personally, I'd like to think I'm pretty observant, but I'm happy to be the sidekick if you want to be Holmes."

I was amazed as his ability to be so cheery in these dire situations.

Before I could reply, there was another loud knock on the door.

"Ah, that'll be the team," Dank said. "Come on, let's go into the living room. It's time for a good old fashioned Swoodilypoopers team meeting. I think even ex-coach John Green is coming."

The thought of facing a team who had, because of me, just lost one of their best players did not particularly delight me, no matter how cheery Dank sounded. But I stood up and followed him out of the kitchen.

In the doorway of the kitchen, he suddenly stopped at turned to me. "Do you really think it's bullshit?" He asked. "The idea that life's worth living?"

I shrugged, not wanting to get into one of those discussions, right before this meeting. "Come on," I said, nodding towards the living room. "Let's just get this over with."