It was Wednesday morning and I was suppose to meet Johnny at the community park. For no good reason, except that we could. I woke up and did my morning duties -  get dressed, brush my teeth, comb my hair, do my bed, walk the Dog, and have a quick bite to eat. 

"Bye mom, going to the park with Johnny," I told her as I grabbed a piece of toast and kissed my mom on the cheek. My mom was busy in the kitchen cooking breakfast and my brother, Ian, was slumped over a chair wearing a wife beater, a pink worn out robe and black slippers, sipping coffee and reading the New York Times business section. 

"Hey, wait," mom yelled at me, "Aren't you going to wait for breakfast? I'm making fresh organic scrambled eggs with yellow peppers, turkey bacon, and kale!

As I walked to the park I started thinking. My brother always told me not to, because  it would get me in trouble. But I did anyway. I was thinking about the possibilities of making my own money. I really want a cell phone and other unnecessary electronic goodies. But I want to do this myself. My parents always taught me to be self-sufficient. They would say, “reach for the stars”… “the sky's the limit”… “if you believe, you can achieve.” Blah, blah, blah. All I want is a cell phone, I don't want to conquer the world or figure out a cure for the common cold. I was told, “You’re too young to have a cell phone.”  Reach for the stars? I just want to reach for a wireless signal! And besides, everyone in my school has one. Well, almost everyone. My bestest friend, Johnny, has one. Well, he had one. His mom wanted him to have a cell phone so she could check on him whenever she wanted and make sure he's alive. After Johnny went through too many sat-on, water damaged, stolen, run over by a car and swallowed by a dog excuses for losing his phone, his mom said “no more.” So, Johnny had to live like a caveman, using the house phone, or actually visiting people’s homes to talk to them. Go figure.

We’ve known Johnny since he moved into the neighborhood 10 years ago. Johnny, is my closest friend, but at the same time he’s my brother’s BFF. We call him koon, which is a play on the honorific, -kun for a male friend in Japanese. We’re kind of obsessed with everything Japanese; don’t know why, we just are. Not only do I share a best friend and the love of  Japanese culture with my brother Ian, but I have been sharing everything with him since before we were born. We’re fraternal twins. My mom says she got a bargain at 2 for 1, so she decided to quit while she was ahead, and she did.

It’s the end of my first year of high school, and I am 15 years old. My name is Nina Marie Martin and I live in a nice neighborhood in the smallest county of New Jersey, Hudson County. It’s the closest county in New Jersey to New York City. It’s a middle class working neighborhood where everyone puts up their Christmas ornaments the day after Thanksgiving and brings them down the day after New Years. The flower beds are planted in the front yard just before Easter and someone always throws a big 4th of July party. Kids are not allowed to throw eggs at anyone’s house during Halloween, unless the families in those houses are not giving out candy that year. 

 I‘m old enough to work in a few places with my parent’s permission, but they don’t see the need for me to work. My dad makes enough money to maintain our family very well and my mom earns some extra income taking care of elderly people.  My summer vacations are not that exciting. Besides the two vacations a year we take as a family, spending a lot of time in my brother’s room with Ian and Johnny playing video games, the occasional stroll to the park, and of course, the big shopping spree at the end of summer for my “back to school” clothes with Samantha, my summers are nothing but humdrum.

 I do get kind of excited during the summer with the expectation of running into my lifelong sweetheart and love of my life, Andy. I've known Andy since 7th grade and it was love at first sight... at least for me. I'm not sure exactly what Andy thinks of me. When we’re together he’s sort of nice. He’ll throw his arms around me in a playful way, and wink at me every once in a while. He totally takes my breath away!

I finally arrived to the park by the playground where, as usual, Johnny was on a swing upside down talking all weird. "Well, if I wuz you, I would start my own flower garden and sell them,” Johnny said. Johnny had an obsession with my mom’s herb garden. He always thought that she was perhaps growing illegal stuff or plants for "medicinal purposes."

 "Oh, yeah, that's what I’ll do,” I said swinging slowly. “Like that’ll make me lots of money.” 

“Well, I don't know, your mom has that herb garden that she likes soooo much, you know she has some good expensive stuff growin' in there... you can make lots of money that way,” Johnny said still hanging upside down like a confused monkey.

“Hey, that’s my mom you’re talking about!” I shouted. “And besides, you’ll probably be my only customer.” Johnny finally straightened up, and was as red as a lobster but seemed very happy about it. Weirdo.

“Dude, don’t take offense,” Johnny shouted looking like he was ready to pass out. “You know that I think your mom is totally cool. Whoa! I feel like all the blood in my body is in my head.”

“That’s because it probably is.”

“Whoa, yeah.”

“Oh, you and that herb garden,” I said. “She grows oregano, basil and mint, okay?  Now just drop the subject and help me figure out a way to make some money!”

"Why don't you just ask your parents, they have enough do-re-mi-money.”

"’Cause, I want to do this on my own,” I said very seriously. “I want to show them that I can make my own money!”

"Yeah, and you want to get the most expensive, state-of-the-art, totally cool, iPhone. Ugh, my brain doesn't feel right.”

 Ok, he was right. I couldn't go and ask my parents for a cell phone. Knowing them, they would get me the cheapest, plastic looking, cell phone they could find; with a circle of friends consisting of my mom, dad, brother, grandma and 911.

"Hey, if I could pay for my own phone, then there's nothing they could say, right?" I questioned.

"Yeah but, what are you going to do about the monthly charges incurred by such an advanced, hi-tech and expensive piece of equipment?" Johnny asked.

"I never said my plan was perfect." And BANG! Johnny dropped to the floor face down on the sandy area beneath the swings. I turned him around and checked for a pulse and that he was breathing. Great, his breath smells like corn chips. I made sure he would stay face up by placing two pieces of wood on either side of his body and left. He just needs to sleep it off. He’ll be okay, this happens all the time. 

I was slowly walking home, wondering what I was going to do to raise money this summer. I could try to get a summer job bagging at the Super Store, but that’ll mean that mom would have to take me and pick me up, or I could take the bus... nah! I could try getting a job at one of the many shops on Bergenline Avenue.

Bergenline Avenue is a 100 plus block, never ending, outdoor strip mall where you can buy everything from a toothbrush to a Cuban sandwich. The only problem with working on Bergenline Avenue is that it is also a great place to hang out for the young people that live in my neighborhood, and it’ll be kind of a bummer for me, if I have to work and also watch everyone else enjoying their summer. Meanwhile, in the back of my mind I was thinking about what mom was cooking for lunch. My mom is a great cook, but she sometimes becomes a little too creative in the kitchen.

As I was walking home, I heard someone screaming and crying just past the gates of a perfectly manicured lawn. I was kind of intrigued to find out what was going on, so I stopped to listen. It was coming from the house of one of our neighbors who lives down the block, the Bells. They’re the perfect, affluent family with the 4 bedroom, 2-1/2 bathroom, 2 car garage and a big pool house. They are also the first to contribute to any community activity, help any family in need, and lead in 'Best Yard of the Month' nominations. Yuk! Way too perfect. But, something was happening past that lawn. Something deliciously evil and I couldn't pull away.

When I put my ear to the gate I heard things like, "Open the door young man!... I'm counting to 3 buddy then you'll see what happens… Here we go: 1, 2, 2-1/2, 2-3/4; okay, here I go... 3… Did you hear me!? I said 3! If you don't apologize right this instance for locking the door, you’re getting a time out!” Nothing. “You better apologize... you don’t want a time out, right? Okay, here goes again… 1, 2, 2-1/2...” 

WOW! Is that what parenting has come down to? Parents negotiating with their children whether or not they should be punished? We've come a long way baby. The only problem is, it’s the wrong way.

I slowly opened the gate door and said, "Hello Mr. Bells. How's it going?"  Everything all of a sudden stopped and Mr. Bells swiftly turned around.

“Well, hello, Nina. How are you?" he said with a shocked look on his face.

"Oh, I'm fine thank you. I was just going home and I kind of... well... is everything okay?"        

 Mr. Bells came closer to me and whispered, "Everything is not okay. Stacey is out of town and these two are driving me insane!” 

 "Oh, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?”

 “Yeah, get junior to open the door. He locked himself inside the house, again, and the baby is in her room napping.”

 I walked over to the locked pool bathroom door and thought for a minute. “Erick, hi,” I said sweetly. “It’s Nina, I live down the street from you.” I figured I would create a sense of familiarity with the boy, you know, kind of make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. “Guess what?”

“What?” he answered.

Ah, it worked. I made him talk. “I have some candy and a lollypop, want some?” I asked. Sweets always seem to work with kids. There was no immediate reaction, but then the door swung open and the kid came out looking for his candy and lollypops.

 “Heyyyyy, where’s my candy and lollypop?” he asked. Mr. Bells popped out from behind the door with a red face.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get something real sweet in a moment or two, just you wait and see,” I said to the little weasel.

“Get-in-the-house-right-this-MINUTE!” shouted Mr. Bells behind me. And Erick Jr. ran into the house in tears. Mr. Bells ran after him to make sure the baby was okay.

I don’t like lying, but I needed some leverage for my negotiation process.

“Thank you, Nina," Mr. Bells said coming out of the house again. "The baby is still asleep thank goodness. I came out to check on the mail, and Erick locked the door on me. Thank you so much.” 

“Sure, no problemo. If there’s anything I could ever do to help, just let me know,” I said.

 "Well, actually, yeah... maybe there is something you can do for me. I'm going to need to take a few hours off from being Mr. Mom on Friday. I have a deadline to meet from work, and I need someone to look after the kids while I do some work in my office. What do you think? Would you be interested? I'll pay you.”

Yes! He said the magic word... pay! "Oh, sure Mr. Bells, I would love to get paid, I mean help!" I said very enthusiastically.

 "Okay!” Mr. Bells said. “Friday morning. You can swim with them so bring your bathing suit. Feed them, read to them, play with them, oh and make sure Kayleen takes her afternoon nap. Does $8 an hour sound ok?"

Holy moly! Eight dollars an hour? I'm gonna be rich! My prayers are answered; this is what I'm going do this summer to make money! I’ll take care of these beautiful, innocent, charming children. My life has just been made. "OK, sounds good Mr. Bells, see you then.”

My mind was racing as I walked home. I could buy my phone, all the updated games for my PlayStation, the New Fit for the Wii, a new guitar for my brother (nah, scratch that out, he could make his own stinkin' money) and a brand new GTI. Black, with chrome wheels and a tricked out sound system and of course, a pink Sakura flowers hanging from my rear view mirror. Oh, and a little geisha girl bobble head on the dash; but first I have to get my license. Like my parents always told me, “the sky's the limit!” I felt great! Nothing could spoil my mood!  Nothing I tell ya!

 "Hey mom, I'm ho-ome,” I said with a bounce in my voice. "What's for lunch?"

"Broiled Chicken with steamed turnips and brussels sprouts, dear.”

There goes my good mood.