by R A Watt
It didn’t quite work.
Instead, he expertly stepped away, grabbed my head, and threw me in the dirt. There was lots of chanting now. I felt tears welling up that needed to be held back; I couldn’t let him or the other kids see.
“Is that seriously all you got?” he asked and laughed. “Tough Laurent kid from New York, and that’s it? I slapped you because I was getting the feeling it might be like fighting a little girl. So far I was right.”
The crowd started laughing uneasily. I was still on my hands and knees, staring at the dirt and blinking my eyes as quickly as I could to hold back the tears that were squirming to escape.
Bruno leaned over and picked something up from the ground. He examined it from the corner of his eye. “These your keys, kid?”
I looked over. My keychain must have fallen out of my pocket when he threw me.
I nodded. “Give them back.”
“Make me,” he said as he slid them into his pocket.
I stood.
He grinned, nodding. “Maybe you do have some honor. But this time, it’s gonna hurt.”
My fists rose up, ready for whatever was coming.
“Stop!” a girl yelled, stepping out from the circle with her hands out. She had long, espresso-colored hair, pushed back with a hair band, perfectly in order and silky smooth. Her eyes were round and green, and her skin was an olive tone. She was beautiful.
“Bruno, come on,” she continued, looking back and forth between him and me. “Give him his keys and go home. Please. Do the right thing, you’ve proved your point.”
Bruno rolled his eyes. “Oh, Churchmouse. Why you gotta stick your nose where it don’t belong?”
She shook her head. “If something here doesn’t belong, it’s you. Are you really so insecure that you stoop to picking on people smaller than you? Or better at soccer?”
Bruno’s face reddened, and he stepped toward her with his open palm lifted. “I don’t normally hit girls, but you want a slap, too?”
Before she could respond, there was a flash from the crowd, and then someone darted out and pushed Bruno from behind—hard. He hadn’t been expecting it and stumbled and fell.
The crowd went wild.
I looked up but couldn’t quite see who did it, just his silhouette. The sun was behind him. But I could tell that it wasn’t Jermaine.
The unknown savior had a ponytail. He had freckles.
Only now I could see it wasn’t a he—it was a she.
Chapter 3
Her name was Sybil; she was in my homeroom.
“Bruno, if you even pretend to touch Rachel I will make you regret it for the rest of your life. You made your point, you pathetic, inbred, piece of crap. Now go home!” she yelled, sweeping her arm toward the street.
Bruno stood up, making a point to dust off his hands and shirt. “Oh, oh, who do we have here? Little Orphan Annie, coming to the rescue of her cousin and the new kid?”
Her freckled face twisted at the comment and her green eyes opened even wider; I could almost see her pulse quickening. She had wild red hair that was long, tangled, and jammed in a ponytail with random strands poking out. “You want to test out what it feels like to hit a girl? Hit me then, Loser.” She stepped forward with the challenge, both of her fists clenched.
The crowd whispered and shuffled around.
Bruno seemed unsure, scratching the back of his neck.
“Listen, Sybil, this doesn’t concern you or her.” He gestured to Rachel.
She stepped forward again, aggressively. He stepped back. She was smaller than Bruno, but she appeared wild-eyed and formidable.
“Whatever. I’m done here. These two wimps could probably learn a lesson from you in at least standing up for themselves,” he said, then looked at me. “You hear that City Boy? And Jermaine, wherever you’ve scurried off to? This isn’t over, boys. Trust me. Annie only bought you some time.”
Despite Bruno backing down, Sybil stepped forward once more. This time Bruno’s back was up against the bike rack.
“You call me Annie one more time, just once, and I will do my best to make sure you never father any children.”
“Oooohhhh,” went the crowd again, hungry for excitement.
Bruno looked around, uncertain, but covered and protected himself there.
“You would do that, wouldn’t you? Is that the best your drunk-bum-of-a-father has taught you? Fight dirty like a street rat and stick your nose where it don’t belong? ”
She bristled, and her green eyes went dark in anger. “I will do whatever it takes to win,” she threatened. “And give him his keys back. Now.”
Bruno shrugged and sidled his way from the bike racks, holding his hands up in mock defeat. He grabbed my keys from his pocket and threw them in the dry dirt.
“Come on guys, let's leave these losers,” he said, speaking to his two buddies. The three of them walked over to a Jeep in the parking lot and jumped in. Bruno sat in the open-top passenger seat. “See you soon, Laurent.” He winked at me before they squealed out of the lot.
Jermaine came through the crowd as they drove off, and everyone started talking at once. I was almost deaf and seeing stars. I felt numb.
“Or what? Hello?”
To my left, Jermaine’s hand was on my shoulder, a look of concern in his eyes as he spoke. I couldn’t hear him; my mind was elsewhere.
“I said, are you okay or what? Hello?” Jermaine repeated.
I leaned over with my hands on my knees, trembling. I felt like I might throw up. Other kids gathered in closer and gradually I heard people talking to me.
“Nice work, buddy.”
“Way to go.”
“You’re in trouble now.”
“Bro, what was that?” the Asian boy said, whose name was Kevin. He brought his hand up for a high five that I didn’t reciprocate. “Bro, that was awesome! You stood up to Bruno! I can’t believe it, I assumed you must know karate or something, though it didn’t look like it.”
Everyone laughed.
Jermaine’s face was red; he was quiet. I felt sick. This Kevin kid seemed beyond excited. The crowd was talking amongst themselves. My ears had this ring in them and I saw black spots, though he hadn’t hit me that hard.
“I didn’t do anything. I almost got my butt kicked, and couldn’t even hold my ground. What are you talking about?” I asked, finally addressing Kevin.
“Teavan . . . my man! But you did? There are, like, sixty kids here, some as big as him. And you were the only one man enough to stand up. And I can freely admit, I wasn’t. Kudos to you. That was freakin’ awesome,” he said. “I mean, you didn’t really do much, but at least you sorta held your ground. Usually, guys have a black eye and bleeding nose when they tangle with Bruno.”
I shook my head. Had he witnessed what just happened? It was an embarrassment.
Looking past Jermaine, I tried to find the girl—Sybil—who saved me, but my heart skipped a beat when I noticed Rachel walking over. She smiled at me, Jermaine, and Kevin.
For a moment I almost forgot about Bruno.
“Are you guys okay?” she asked. “He’s such a jerk.”
“Umm, yeah, I’m okay,” I answered, trying to smile.
Jermaine nodded. “Thanks to you and your cousin.”
“Cousin?” I asked.
“Sybil,” Jermaine answered. “The girl with the red hair, she’s Rachel’s cousin.”
The two girls couldn’t be more different. Rachel was stunning: dressed neatly, with her hair pulled back and every strand in place. Sybil, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Her clothing was sloppy and uncoordinated at best, like she didn’t care. I’d seen her every day for a week, and she never smiled. She seemed more like my sister, Suzanne, with an ever-present scowl.
“That guy is a real dolt. I think it was nice you tried to help out Jermaine,” Rachel said, looking at me. “Don’t judge the Iz by people like Bruno. Mostly everyone is really nice.”
I heard the word dolt,
and then the word tried. In her mind, I’d attempted, which means I didn’t succeed.
“Well, your cousin was the real hero. I think she saved both our butts,” I answered.
Rachel carefully reached up and pulled a leaf from my hair. “Lucky for you, Bruno had enough class to walk away,” she added. “Anyway, I think that was very brave of you to stand up for someone you don’t know, especially being the new guy. I wish more people would do that. Maybe Bruno would get the message.” She smiled, running her hands through her hair.
Sybil came over and tapped Rachel’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Hey . . . Sybil? Thanks. That was super nice of you,” I blubbered awkwardly.
“Yeah, thanks,” added Jermaine.
She looked at us both with a cold stare. Not that friendly given the circumstances.
“Bruno is a total loser. He needs someone to call him out,” she barked. She looked at me. “You almost did, but failed. And you, Jermaine, come on. What was that?”
We both looked down and kicked the dirt, embarrassed.
Rachel interrupted. “Sybil, Bruno is a bully, plain and simple. He lives to fight and embarrass people smaller than him. How can two nice guys stand up to that?”
Sybil gave Rachel a dirty look. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not nice?” I had the feeling that wasn’t what Rachel meant. “Whatever, let’s go.” She turned around and started walking away.
“Sorry guys . . . I hope you’re okay. I gotta go,” Rachel said as she ran after Sybil.
Kevin whistled quietly. “Wow, now, that was weird.”
Jermaine agreed. “No kidding. An exciting first week here for you,” he said, looking at me. “Now, Sybil may have saved your butt, but you saved mine,” he held out my keys to me.
“Thanks,” I said, taking them.
“Can I bike you home?”
“Sure,” I answered, feeling a bit relieved at not having to cycle home alone. Bruno’s comment of See you soon echoed in my ears.
Chapter 4
Jermaine seemed like a solid guy. As we biked to my place, he gave me the goods on Santa Isadora, or the Iz as the locals called it.
“So, what’s the deal with you and Bruno?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Who knows with that guy. He’s always had it out for me. We’ve been soccer rivals forever. And for a long time I ran circles around him, and he really hated it. His dad is uber-competitive and would always curse Bruno when I took the ball away or out-dribbled him. Maybe I pushed things too far, though I don’t anymore. He’s too crazy now. And tough. And he holds a grudge.”
“No kidding,” I said. “Do we have a school soccer team?”
“Yeah, we’re decent. Kevin plays, too. You wanna join?”
I shook my head, and held out my leg. “No, thanks.”
“Can I ask you something?” he asked, hesitantly.
“Sure.”
“What’s wrong with your leg?”
“Oh,” I said, looking all serious. “I got stabbed by a gang member back in New York, right in the thigh.”
“Dude! Are you serious?”
Doing my best to hold a straight face, I nodded, but then burst out laughing.
“What?” he asked.
“Nah, I’m just kidding. My legs—one is shorter than the other, ever since I was little. Just kinda grew weird. Makes it a bit hard to walk.”
Jermaine shook his head and laughed. “Well, you never know. Could have been true; I don’t know much about New York other than from movies.”
At that moment, an animal jumped on the road up ahead. It was running toward us, down low along the gravel country road as we approached my driveway.
Jermaine yelped and spun his bike around with a look of pure terror. “Run!”
I calmly dismounted.
“Teavan, come on!” he yelled.
Smiling, I turned and knelt down, ready to be attacked by the oncoming four-legged beast.
Jermaine squinted and then returned the grin as Honey, my golden retriever, came bounding up and jumped on me, licking and wagging her tail.
“Jermaine, meet Honey. Honey, this is Jermaine,” I said as he came over and knelt down to let her sniff him, then rubbed her back.
“She’s beautiful,” he said.
“Are you afraid of dogs?” I asked, surprised by his initial reaction.
He nodded. “No. I love dogs. I just saw something big on four legs running toward us, and my eyes aren’t so good. I thought it was a wolf or a coyote.”
“A wolf?” I asked. “Is it common for wolves to attack people here?”
“No, no. I’ve never even seen one,” he said, as I let a nervous breath out. “Just that, you know, things happen is all.”
“Happen?”
“Like country stuff, I guess. Wolves howling, coyotes chirping at night. Every once in a while a cow gets found slaughtered, or someone goes missing. Can be dangerous at night out there.” He shrugged, kicking a stone into the ditch.
Wolves killing cows? I thought life in a small town would be dull, but at least safer than New York.
“Are you just messing with me now? Getting me back for the leg joke?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I wish. I don’t even think it’s normal, at least not in most towns anyway. We got family down outside of Santa Barbara, and they don’t have any worries about wolves. I wouldn’t let your dog roam around outside at night, either. She’s a big dog, but no match for a wolf or a pack of coyotes.”
The thought of coyotes attacking Honey sent an icy shiver down my spine. I had assumed she could always roam freely. Wasn’t that the point of having two hundred acres?
“And here I thought Bruno and his thugs were going to be my biggest problem,” I joked.
“Yeah, that’s not good, either. That dude is unbalanced and getting worse since his brother died. Best to stay out of his way, and off his radar.”
Too late, I thought. “He had a brother that died?”
Jermaine pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah, about a year ago. Was a couple years older. Just disappeared one night.”
“He ran away?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Their family seemed pretty close. I mean, he wasn’t the nicest guy, but still. I think something got him, though most people said he ran away.”
“Ugh, that sucks. No wonder Bruno is such a jerk. I’d be kinda messed up, too,” I said, wondering how I’d cope if Suzanne just up and disappeared one night. We had our differences, but . . .
“Can I ask you another question? What kind of name is Teavan?” he asked.
“Oh,” I chuckled. “My actual name is Steven. When I was born, my sister wasn’t quite two-years-old and could not pronounce the letter ‘S’, so she always called me Teavan. I guess it just kinda stuck.”
We had been walking our bikes and now approached the end of my grandpa’s long driveway. Well, our driveway now, I guess.
“Do you want to come inside? Have a snack?” I asked.
“Nah, I gotta go. But thanks again for earlier. You have any plans tomorrow? Wanna hit a movie or bike the quarry in the afternoon?” he asked.
“The quarry?”
“Yeah, it’s an abandoned granite quarry, a mile out of town. There are some decent jumps and drops there.”
Trick biking wasn’t really my thing. “How about the movie?”
He nodded and we exchanged numbers for texting.
The day had some serious ups and downs. New friend. New enemy.
It was an interesting end to the first week.
Dinner was better than usual that night—relatively. My dad seemed to make an effort and bought steaks for the three of us to celebrate our first week of school. Suzanne was still being hard on him about the move from New York and she didn’t speak much.
“How was your first week, Suzanne? Do you like your school?” he asked as he set the slightly overcooked steaks on the table. Suzanne went to the other high school in town—Baker—because they ha
d Design & Textiles courses that Redwood didn’t. It was smaller and more trade-oriented. She had plans to become a fashion designer back in New York one day. However, I wasn’t sure how good the classes could be here and just assumed she didn’t want to go to the same school as me.
“How was it? How do you think?” she sneered. “It sucked, Dad, just like this town sucks. My high school is a joke.”
My dad was trying to chew a piece of steak, unable to respond as he attempted to wash it down with red wine. Finally he said, “Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. Give it a chance. I’ll bet there are some handsome young men on the football team that will catch your interest.”
She rolled her eyes. “As if! I have, and will always have, zero interest in farm boys.”
My dad winked. “We’ll see about that when these farm boys come calling. You might like them; they might have actual manners and wear a belt in a small town.”
I had no doubt the farm boys would come sniffing around. Suzanne always seemed to have guys hanging off her, though luckily she wasn’t boy crazy at all. Her wavy dark hair and apparently good looks always seemed to get glances she was unaware of. Gross. I was told we looked similar, though I was skinny, and the dark and curly mop of hair on my head never seemed to attract any of the girls’ attention. Maybe a nice California suntan would help.
“Dad, there’s, like, only thirty people in the junior class. Everyone is staring at me like I’m the new freak.”
“Maybe it’s ‘cause you are,” I mumbled, unable to resist.
She shot visual daggers at me. “Shut it, moron. We both know you are a freak. Did you find time between having zero friends and no life to join the programming club? Or just the loser’s league at your school?”
I shrugged and gave an apologetic smile, not in the mood to start something.
“Suzanne, be respectful,” Dad said.
She shook her head and her eyes narrowed. “He disrespected me first.”
“We need to watch out for Honey,” I volunteered, changing the subject. “A guy I met at school said they have wolf and coyote issues here.”