The Kilwade Tragedy

by Terry Keys

This was too easy, he thought.

  “Okay but just this one time, you understand?” She smiled.

  He nodded.

  “Tomorrow I’ll have a packet ready for you. Now get out of here and work on fixing things at home.”

  “Thank you.”

  He stood up and walked out, not looking back.

  Mrs. Langley had been teaching for nearly thirty years. She’d seen and heard it all. And she knew a sincere apology and change of heart when she saw one. And the one she just saw from Blaze was the exact opposite. But what could she do?

  At least he’d been honest with her about things being a mess at home. It was more than she’d gotten out of most students.

  Blaze had never been a huge talker in class but now he seemed even more withdrawn and isolated.

  She’dlost a teenagedbrother to depression when he’dtaken his own life. She was twelve and he was sixteen. Her parents had never really shared many details. His suicide was one of the main reasons that she had started teaching. She wanted to try and help guide and be a role model for young people.

  Blaze hadn’t given her any reason to believe that he was suicidal, but she would no doubt keep a closer eye on him over the next few weeks.

  The number of students that pointed at him or tried to pretend they weren’t had dropped off considerably. But there were still a few. Blaze just smiled at them and made a mental note.

  He stumbled as someone shoved him from behind. He turned around to find Tre’s bestie, Wayne, along with three other football players.

  Instinctively he put his hands up. “Listen I don’t know what this is about, but I can’t get into any more trouble,” Blaze said.

  The group of them looked at each other and broke out in laughter.

  Wayne’s eyebrows rose and he got serious. “We don’t give a damn what you can’t get into, punk. Tre is kicked out of school because your stupid video. And off the football team. So your gonna pay!”

  Mr. Hunter had come through on his promise. Blaze smiled. He didn’t think ole’ Hunter had it in him.

  “Something funny, asshat?” Wayne yelled getting in his face.

  Blaze stepped back. “Your face is funny. Outside of that, nah I don’t see anything funny.”

  Wayne pretended to turn away but then he quickly lunged at Blaze. Mark suddenly appeared and shoved him out of the way. He jumped between the two of them.

  “Hey bro, let’s get the hell out of here. You know you can’t get into any more trouble, Blaze.”

  “Yeah, listen to your girlfriend,” one of the other players yelled.

  Mark squeezed Blaze’s arm tightly and pulled him. “Blaze, let’s go bro. You don’t need this shit. I’m serious.”

  “This ain’t over punk!” Wayne yelled. “This ain’t over!”

  Blaze knew that in a few weeks none of this would matter. But being kicked out of school meant that he couldn’t attend the football games or practices. And if his plan was going to succeed, he’d need to attend both.

  “What the hell happened back there?” Mark asked.

  They walked towards the back parking lot where they both parked every day.

  Blaze said nothing.

  “Hey, what the hell happened back there?” Mark asked again, this time more agitated.

  “I don’t know. They came out of nowhere. They’re mad because Tre is out of school and in trouble. I guess they blame me – I don’t know.”

  “What? So they think it’s your fault that Tre’s dumbass leaked the video?”

  “Maybe not, but they probably think that I snitched and told Hunter.”

  “Did you?”

  “No. Nikki had already told him before I saw him.”

  “Why don’t you just tell them that then?”

  Blaze whipped his head around towards Mark.

  “So they can turn their venom on her?”

  “After what she did to you? Who cares about her ass? Got what she deserved if you ask me.”

  “Yeah well, no one asked.”

  “What’s up with you, bro?” Mark asked.

  “Nothing. But I’m not turning them on Nikki. They’ll get what they got coming.”

  “You know someone is going to get Tre off, right? His parents are too well connected. I mean shit, maybe he’ll miss a game if that. Then he’ll be back out there. Football rules everything here. You know that.”

  “Well football doesn’t rule me. And he’s going to get what he’s got coming too. I hope he does get off. I hope he does get to play again next week.”

  Mark looked dumbfounded. Why the hell would Blaze want him to play again?

  Blaze opened his car and hopped in. “I gotta run bro. I’m late for work.”

  He slammed the door before Mark could respond.

  Blaze took off but had no intention of leaving the field. He didn’t want to let Mark know his plans. He drove around the neighborhood behind the school and parked. The players would need time to change into their uniforms and it would also give Mark enough time to leave.

  Fifteen minutes later, Blaze cranked his car back up and drove back to the parking lot beside the football field. There were lines and rows of players going through some type of team warmup.

  He parked and walked to the stadium entrance. It was about one hundred yards to the field. Far enough where no one would recognize him. To his right was a ticket booth and a threewindow concession stand.

  There were sixty-two steps from the ticket booth to the end of the concession stand.

  To his immediate left were Three of them: men, women and restroom.

  restrooms. a family

  To the right of the restrooms and in front of him were the bleachers. He saw something interesting and squinted his eyes to try and make it out. About forty yards ahead there was some type of storage area that was sectioned off with a chain link fence.

  Blaze looked around but saw nobody else. Beside the storage area was a walkway into the stands. He stared into the storage area. A few old tackle dummies, a handful of hurdles and maybe a handful of foldup chairs.

  This old storage area was right next to the bleachers, hidden and would be easy to get in and out of without drawing much attention. Especially when the stadium was filled with loud, rabid, football fans.

  He smiled and eased closer to the ragged storage area. The AR-15s that he planned on using could easily be broken down and snuck in piece by piece.

  He walked over and took a closer look at the lock on the gate. He reached down and rubbed a layer of dust off. The lock hadn’t been touched in years probably. And it was unlocked. Even better.

  Blaze turned his attention to the practice field. Outside of a few students and a handful of parents, no one else was there. No security. No cops. No teachers. No one that would notice that he would start to show up day after day and put everything he needed into the storage area.

  To anyone who saw him he’d just be another spectator taking in practice. Not an artist planning out his masterpiece. Not an angry teenager wanting to get even with everyone.

  He turned to his right and walked towards the bleachers. A smile flashed across his face. He was really going to do this. He was really going to show those assholes that thought making fun of people was cool, that it wasn’t. He was finally going to get the last laugh. He didn’t want to admit it, but he would also finally stop the pain.

  The sound of football pads colliding into each other echoed loudly in the stands. As he stood at the top of the steps he could see clearly out onto the football field. The student section which he sat in with Nikki was directly to his right. From here he’d be able to target both the students that had terrorized him and the players that had made his life a living hell.

  He thought back to the game he attended and tried to remember where the officers had been but he couldn’t be sure. He knew there’d be several on the field and he also knew the moment they heard gunfire what would happen. They would find him and…

  Blaze made his way back down the bl
eachers and walked through the rest of the stadium. He wanted to check all the entrances and exits. It would all go down so fast when the shooting started that he probably wouldn’t have to worry about the exits. There were a few that he wanted to punish, such as Tre and Wayne. They were at the top of his list. Anyone else in the way would be a bonus.

  As he reached the edge of the bleachers, he heard a voice. Was someone calling him? He turned around and about fifty yards away he saw him. Tre Johnson. And he was headed his way fast.

  The last thing he needed was an encounter here. He turned and quickly headed for the stadium exit. If he wasn’t careful, being seen here now could ruin everything.

  As he reached the gate he turned and looked back. Tre and now a few others were still following and closing in on him.

  Blaze tried to walk a little faster, but he didn’t want to make it seem like he was running. He walked as fast as could.

  “Hey punk, I know you heard me!” Tre yelled, clearly much closer now. But Blaze didn’t stop. He reached into his pocket, took out his keys and clicked his doors to unlock.

  The footsteps behind him were hitting the pavement hard and fast. They were running after him now.

  Blaze turned his fast walk into a slow jog and reached out to grab the door handle. Just as his hand touched the door, someone slammed into him.

  He crashed into the car and felt a surge of pain down his face. A hand landed hard behind his head and slammed his face into the car.

  “Argh!” He yelled.

  “That’s for getting me kicked off the team you piece of shit!” Tre bellowed.

  He winced as he felt a punch land hard into his lower back. Blaze fell to the ground and balled up in the fetal position. Maybe if he laid there and gave up, they’d just leave him alone. Maybe this would all end sooner.

  “Get up and fight me!” Tre yelled.

  Blaze peeked between his fingers. There were at least five of them and they had him surrounded.

  Pain shot through his body as someone kicked his back. He covered his face again with his hands. A second later a kick smashed into his hands and face, followed by three or four more kicks. Then he felts kicks all over. The back of his head, his back and legs too.

  Tre put a hand in the air signaling for everyone to stop.

  “I told you to stay out of my goddamn way, Rockband,” Tre said.

  Blaze could feel blood rolling down his face, but he tried hard not to move.

  “Hey!” A voice called from a distance.

  Blaze heard feet start to scatter – they were running. Someone, presumably a teacher, had saved him.

  He felt another kick smash into his face. “You better pray I get back on the team for next week’s game,” Tre said. Then he took off running too.

  “Stop!” The voice called now much closer than before.

  It was Mrs. Roque, the cheerleading coach.

  She knelt and pushed Blaze’s hands away from his face.

  “Oh my God. Who were those boys?”

  Blaze opened his eyes but said nothing.

  “We need to get you to the trainers. Your face is pretty banged up. Do you know who those boys were?”

  He shook his head.

  “Don’t try to move. Just lay here and I’ll call someone to help,” she said.

  Two seconds later he tried to sit up. His head was pounding and it felt like his nose may be broken. The concrete where he’d been laying was covered in blood.

  “You boys are so hard-headed,” she said putting her hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need to move until the trainers check you out. You took quite the beating.”

  “I’ll be fine. Not the first time I’ve been in a fight.”

  “That wasn’t a fight. It was a gang of thugs beating up one kid.”

  Blaze was sitting up now. He shook his head back and forth to try and get the cobwebs out. He was dizzy and lightheaded.

  And then he was angry. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the other boys, so he wasn’t sure who they were.

  The trainers cleaned up his cuts, applied some ointments and a few bandages.

  “You’ll be all better in a few days,” one of them said. “You may want to get checked out – could have a broken bone in your face.”

  “On the outside maybe I’m fine,” Blaze mumbled. He pushed gently on his face to somehow tell if any of the bones in his face were broken.

  Mrs. Roque thought she’d heard him say ‘on the outside’ but she was uncertain. “Did you say something, Blaze?”

  He shook his head. “No ma’am, I’m fine. Thanks for the help.”

  “We should tell the principal and call the campus police,” Mrs. Roque said.

  “No. It’s okay. Like I said, I’ll be fine. I don’t even know who did this.”

  She could tell that what he really wanted to do right now was leave more than anything.

  Blaze walked over to his car, threw it in drive and sped off.

  One of the assistant athletic directors was heading her direction.

  “Saw a bunch of commotion over here,” he said.

  “Uh yeah, a few kids jumped Blaze Planter. Do you know him?”

  “Hmm, I don’t believe so. Is the kid okay? What the heck was the fight over?”

  “He’ll be fine… took quite the beating though. He never said what it was about.”

  “Does he know who they were? They students here?”

  “Said they jumped him from behind and then he turtled up. So, he doesn’t have anything. I tried to get him to file a report, but he just jetted off.”

  Chapter 22

  Blaze sat outside of Dr. Smyrl’s house and watched. His face hurt. His face hurt badly. He sat up tall and looked in the rear-view mirror. Why hadn’t he just walked up to her front door and told her what was on his mind? How long was he going to just sit?

  Or was this just a stupid idea all together? He knew what she’d told him back at her office – but maybe she changed her mind? Maybe she was waiting on him, hoping that he would come by. And here he was.

  It hadn’t been hard to find her address. Five minutes on Google and voila.

  The Band-Aids on his face made it look worse than it was. So one by one, he yanked them off.

  Finally, it was almost dark outside. The last thing he needed was a nosy neighbor seeing him there. Or a stupid classmate.

  Slowly, he pushed open the car door and made his way to her doorstep. He looked around both directions but saw no one. The street hadn’t had much traffic the last thirty minutes.

  Blaze looked to the right of Dr. Smyrl’s front door and noticed a doorbell cam. He tried to avoid looking into it and rang the doorbell.

  A moment later he heard her voice through the camera. “Blaze, what happened to your face? Are you okay?”

  He stared into the camera now. “I’m fine. I fell down some stairs. Can we talk?”

  It was late and usually Dr. Smyrl didn’t talk to patients this late unless it was dire. Maybe this was. But why hadn’t he called? And why was he at her front door?

  “Give me a second to put a robe on. You do realize that it’s late Blaze?”

  He could hear the strain in her voice. “I really need to talk,” he said softly.

  A few minutes later the door slowly opened. “Well come in,” she said and waived him through.

  Dr. Smyrl, nearly all six foot of her, stood wearing not much more than a robe. And for the first time he saw her with her hair down. It was long, blonde and shiny. A lot longer than he’d imagined.

  She stared at him with a look of sadness and a hint of anger.

  “Who did this to you?”

  He paused. “I don’t know.”

  She moved her hands to her hips. “So we’re going to start off lying? Is that why you came?”

  He shook his head.

  “Okay Blaze, who did this and why?”

  “I didn’t see them all. I was getting into my car and someone hit me from behind. Hard enough to knock me down.”
<
br />   “Come here with me,” she said walking into her living room.

  She pointed to her love seat.

  “If you’d been hit from behind you wouldn’t have all of those marks on your face.”

  “I fell to the ground and covered up – just like a little punk. Then I got kicked all over.”

  “Did one person do this?”

  “No. There was a group of them.”

  “Not fighting a group of boys by yourself doesn’t make you a punk, Blaze. And you didn’t see any of them? Couldn’t make out one voice?”

  He said nothing.

  “Blaze?”

  “Tre Johnson. I was leaving the football field and I saw him about fifty yards behind me. He called my name, but I kept walking. I don’t know who the others were.”

  She frowned. “What were you doing at the football field? I thought you hated football. And the players.”

  He swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought this line of questioning out.

  “I don’t know… just walking around killing time.”

  “Killing time at the one place where you knew you wouldn’t be wanted? C’mon Blaze.”

  “I’m allowed to be at a football field. That isn’t illegal, is it?”

  “Not illegal, no, but considering the circumstances not very smart either,” she pointed to his face.

  Blaze leapt to his feet. “So it’s my fault that I got beat up?”

  “Sit down, Blaze. No one said that it’s your fault. I said that it isn’t very smart to hang out where you aren’t wanted. How did you think it would end?”

  He said nothing.

  “So why did you come here?”

  “I want you to stop seeing me. I want to get a new Dr. so…”

  “So… what?”

  “So we can you know… listen I know there’s something here,” he said sliding closer to her.

  She smiled and then softly laughed. Her face reddened a little. “Whatever you think, I’m sorry if I said something or –”

  “Or what? What are you saying? That you don’t want to be with me?” His tone was stiff now.

  She had never been afraid of Blaze before or even thought for a second that he might hurt her. But now she was uncertain.

  “Blaze, you’re a sweet kid. But I would lose my license and-”