What Does a Million Mean?

 

 


 

 

“What are you doing, lambskin?” Lindsay asked as she pushed open the door of Gus’ bedroom.

 

Gus quickly slammed shut the notebook that he had been looking at.  “Mom, you’re supposed to knock,” nine year old Gus told her.  “And don’t call me that name.”

 

“I’ve always called you lambskin.”

 

“I know, and I hate it.”

 

“Gus…”

 

“I’m doing my homework, Mom,” Gus said hoping that would get his mother to leave so he could finish what he was doing.

“What subject?”

 

“Math … and English.”

 

“How can it be both?”

 

“It is,” Gus stated.

 

“Show me what you’re doing,” Lindsay insisted.

 

“I can do it by myself.”

 

Lindsay stared at her son.  He was very smart and rarely wanted help with his homework, but this was different.  She knew he was hiding something.  “I want to see what you’re doing,” Lindsay stated firmly.

 

“Mom…”

 

“Gus, show me.  Right now, young man!”

 

Gus heaved a huge sigh and opened his notebook.  Lindsay walked over and picked it up. 

 

“How Big is a Million?” she read.  She looked at Gus.  “Do you know how big a million is?”

 

“Yes, Mom,” Gus replied showing his exasperation.  “It’s a one with six zeroes after it.”

 

“So that’s the math part of your homework?”

 

“Yeah, we’re doing powers of ten.  You know, ten, a hundred, a thousand…”

 

“What grade are you in again?” Lindsay asked with a frown.

 

“I’m in fourth grade,” Gus said.  “You know that.”

 

“This seems…”

 

“I’m smart, Mom,” Gus told her.  She always seemed to underestimate him.  “I’m in the top math group.”

 

“Are you now?”  Lindsay knew her son was doing very well in the school he was enrolled at in Toronto.  He was a clever student and seemed to like to learn.  When she went for the parent/teacher interviews, the teacher always told her that Gus was in the top echelon of his class and seemed very well liked by the other students.  That always made her proud.  It was early in this school year and she hadn’t been in to see Gus’ teacher yet.  Maybe she should do that sooner rather than later.

 

This secrecy thing was new.  It had started right at the beginning of the school year.  Actually it had probably started before school … when Gus came back from a visit with his father in Pittsburgh.  That whole trip had been a big bone of contention with Melanie.  She did not want Gus to go.  She particularly did not like the idea of Gus spending a full two weeks with his father.  However, Brian had volunteered to fly up to Toronto to pick up Gus and fly back with him.  He had done the same when Gus returned.  Melanie had finally given in against her better judgment.

 

However, Lindsay had noticed that following that trip Gus had been quieter, less open about his feelings and thoughts.  Lindsay had put it down to Gus growing up, but she didn’t like it much.  Now he didn’t even want to show her his homework.  That was not acceptable.  They needed to settle this.

 

“Mom … Mom!” Gus said when she didn’t answer him.  “Can I have my book back?”

 

“Gus, why didn’t you want me to see your notebook?”

 

“It’s … private.”

 

“I thought it was your homework,” Lindsay said.

 

“It is, but it’s private.”

 

“Gus, nothing is private in this house.  I need to know what’s going on with you.  You’re my son.”

 

“But I’m growing up,” Gus protested.

 

“Yes, you are, but you’re not fully grown yet, and you will obey the rules of the house.”

 

“Yes, Mom,” Gus said with a sigh trying to sound contrite.  “Can I have my notebook now?”

 

Lindsay looked down at the line of numbers showing the powers of ten.  Gus’ work was always neat and precise, just like his father.  Maybe that was part of the problem.  He was too much like his father.  Had he become even more like Brian since his trip to Pittsburgh?  Lindsay looked at the page again, and then something else occurred to her.

 

“Why did you say this was English, not Math?” she asked.

 

“I said it was English and Math, Mom.”

 

“So where’s the English part?”

 

“Um…”

 

“Gus…?”  Lindsay looked sternly at her son.

 

“It’s on the next page,” Gus admitted reluctantly.

 

Lindsay flipped to the next page in the notebook.

 

“It’s really rough.  I was just writing some ideas,” Gus said quickly as Lindsay scanned the page.

 

She started reading it silently.  What a Million Means to Me by Gus Markus-Peterson-Kinney.  Lindsay was about to say something, when she read the name Gus had attached to his work.  There should not be a Kinney at the end of it.  Mel would have a fit if she saw it.  However, Lindsay decided to wait before making an issue of the name, and read what Gus had written first.  It filled most of the page.

 

A million is a very big amount.  It’s kind of hard to explain how big that amount is, but I’ll try.  I know some things there are a million of, like grains of sand at the beach and stars in the sky.

 

Lindsay smiled as she read that.

 

I think there are millions of other things too, like flies and trees and flowers.  Anything that there is a lot of could be a million.  I think some things are even a billion which is a thousand times more than a million.  There are about six billion people in the world, so that means there are many, many millions of people.  It’s a huge number.

 

But some things that are a million aren’t so easy to see.  My dad lives in Pittsburgh which seems like a million miles away.  I went to visit him this summer and I know it’s not a million miles, it’s only maybe a thousand, but it sure seems like a million.  I miss my dad a lot.  I wish he was closer.

 

If he was closer to me, I know we’d do a million things together.  I have so many things I want to do with him.  I want to take him skiing and ice skating and to the beach and to the park.  That’s only four things, but I could list the rest of the million things I want to do with him.  If I did though, I’d need several notebooks because a million is really a lot.

 

I love my dad so much.  I wish I could see him more.  Sometimes people say that someone is one in a million.  Well, that’s my dad.  He is one in a million. 

 

But so are my moms.  I have a great family.  Even my sister is pretty good – most of the time.  I just wish we could all live closer together.  It would be fun to see my dad every day, not just on holidays.  I think he’d like that too.

 

I guess that’s all I have to say about a million.  It is a lot.  I’ve made about a million changes to this, but I think I finally got it right.  I hope you understand what a million means to me.

 

Lindsay dragged her eyes away from the page in front of her and looked over at her son.  Gus waited with a worried look on his face.  He knew his mother wasn’t going to be happy about what he had written.  He hadn’t intended for her to see it.

 

“Do you mean all this, Gus?” Lindsay asked with tears in her eyes.

 

Gus nodded.  “I’m sorry, Mom.”

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.  I … I didn’t know you missed Brian so much.”

 

“Neither did I, till I went to visit him this summer.  I had so much fun.  Dad and Justin took me to a baseball game and we went to the zoo and the park, and … everything.”

 

Lindsay wiped a tear away as it slid down her cheek.  “I didn’t realize you were so unhappy here.”

 

“I’m not unhappy, Mom.  I just wish I could spend more time with dad.  He’s lots of fun.”

 

“Fun?  Brian Kinney is fun?”

 

“Yeah, he did these cartwheel things one night and handstands.  He’s really bad at it, but we laughed so hard, me and Justin.  And he watches all these dumb old movies, but they’re really interesting when he talks about them.  We had popcorn and watched them in the media room.”

 

“You like Britin, don’t you?”

 

“Sure, it’s great,” Gus said enthusiastically.  “But I like it here too.  I do good at school here.”

 

“You do well at school,” Lindsay said correcting him.  She couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped her lips.  Gus’ last comment made her feel much better.  Maybe he didn’t actually hate his life in Toronto.

 

“Yeah, I do well at school,” Gus repeated.

 

“Gus, would you like it if we could arrange for you to visit with your father more often?”

 

“Sure, yeah, could you?” Gus said with a smile on his face and hope in his eyes.

 

“And maybe we could invite your father to visit us here more often.”

 

Gus frowned.  “Would Mama be okay with that?” he asked.

 

“I’ll talk to her,” Lindsay promised.

 

“Thanks, Mom.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Lindsay said as she handed the notebook back to her son.  She had some pretty intense talking to do with her wife.  She was going to make more frequent contact with Brian happen for her son, if it was the last thing she ever did.  “Oh, and Gus, I think you know exactly what a million is.”

 

“Yeah, I think so too,” Gus replied, as he took out a fresh sheet of paper to make the final copy of his essay.

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