The Boys Who Danced With the Moon

by Mark Paul Oleksiw

  Generally, I would have been elated to have the house to myself for even an hour or so before school. Not anymore. I missed the organized chaos of starting the day with my mom. Although I would barely say a word to her on most mornings, it was the energy of her presence that was comforting.

  I found a pair of jeans that were ripped at the knee. I hated new jeans and loved my worn Levis and now no one could give me grief for the grass stains on them. I bore in mind the school rule . . . no shorts or ripped shirts. I threw on a plain striped Rugby shirt, yellow and blue, and hurried down the stairs to eat. I sang to myself, punctuating each verse with a creak of the wood stairs.

  While I was sitting alone at the table, my heart slowly began to race. Who would I sit with at lunch? I hadn’t thought of it before. I would look like the biggest dork sitting by myself in the cafeteria. It would be the first year I would be eating lunch in the cafeteria with the other kids. I always came home for lunch before since I lived so close to school. With mom at work now, it no longer made sense to leave the school for lunch. Suddenly, I would be with three hundred or so other kids at lunch. My heart was beating faster now. I mean, I had enough friends at school, but now I was the newbie at lunch. The thoughts raced through my head like a good stock car race, crashing into each other into a jumbled pile in my mind. All ugly and gross to visualize.

  An even worse thought seeped in: what if I ended up labeled as a geek, nerd, and general outcast? I played sports and all, but I read and did well in school. I didn’t speak much in class, preferring to stay unnoticed. Now all this would come back to torture me. I washed out my bowl and decided to just follow my friend Thomas at noon. Hopefully, we’d be in same class before lunch or have lockers near each other. I may be able to just tag along. Thomas was a neighbor and long ago had determined he was too lazy to come home for lunch. He had the routine down; I was sure of it. If I could just hang out with him, I would be okay. Normally I walked by his house to meet him before school, so I would make certain he would save a spot for me.

  The school hadn’t changed since junior high school. The same red brick structure. The sun was bright in the sky. As the masses assembled, I still felt apart and a little comfortable. While the eyes of the guys around me were dancing around to see what changes the summer had brought and picking out which girls had entered their top ten lists, the girls were scoping the boys, doing the same.

  I sat on the grass near the entrance and exhaled. We were getting older. The school year began as it always did—with the crisp wind and bright September sun. New clothes, new hairstyles. The same first-day fashion shows. The same first-day discussions of what summer was like. It was all the same ritual, except one thing had changed. I was not a little kid anymore and would not be younger tomorrow or the day after. When the bell rang to go in, I raised my hands to my face and felt the stubble from the spots I missed. Too late now.

  Two more years and then college. I acknowledged the smiles thrown my way with a grin. I wanted to soak it all in. Not sure why at that time, it just felt right. I took a million photos with my mind that morning as we walked inside the building, the paint still smelling fresh from the last-second coat put on to give it that new look again.

  The school year began without incident or embarrassment. I had a permanent spot in the cafeteria, thanks to Thomas. There wasn’t much time to talk at lunch. I learned pretty quickly how chit-chatting at the table was not tolerated. It was a sit down, open your bag, scoff, and take off operation. We only had fifty minutes, so the smokers ate quickly to step out to get a puff or two. Even kids who didn’t smoke took off outside to hang out. Beginning November 1st, we would be in “lockdown” mode, unless going home for lunch, and not allowed outside again until April. I guess the school was worried about kids freezing to death, although smoking just outside the doors was somehow tolerated.

  I spent my lunch hour most days finishing my meal at a leisurely pace and then wandering off to the gym to shoot some baskets with a couple of other guys or finding a quiet spot and putting on my headphones. I could smile at the girls walking by and avoid any uncomfortable small talk. There were some pretty girls in the school. I just didn’t know how to bridge the gap between us or what to say or how to speak to them without sounding like an idiot. Rather than crash and burn trying, I chose to stay quiet and close to the land, unsure how many knew who I was anyways. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to go outside with the others. It was just that they ate so fast and left so quickly, I didn’t want to be the tail of the dinosaur. Besides, nobody invited me. Not even Thomas. Thomas was a big-time smoker and by 11:30 was climbing the walls for a drag. It would have been awkward to start going outside with the guys, especially now since they would have felt sorry not asking me. I honestly assumed they didn’t think I would be interested.

  ***

  Christmas came and went. Before you knew it, half the school year was over. The winter announced itself with a thick blanket of white during the holidays, the sins of the summer now buried. I had gotten used to my new routine. I had my spot at lunch and quiet time after school.

  We all returned the first week of January trudging our way through the knee-deep snow. I got to my locker and dusted the snow off my pant leg and left what would be a huge puddle in front of my locker, which I managed to step in. My feet would be soaked all day. Shit. Double shit. I looked at the clock and realized I still had five minutes to first period, which was history. I could take off my socks and run to the washroom and, hopefully, get them dry fast enough using one of the hand dryers. In bare feet, I raced across the cold concrete floor of our locker bay toward the washrooms by the gym. As I ran into the restroom, I thought I had gone unnoticed.

  “Man. If it isn’t a prophet himself. Running barefoot through a school! Cool. Is this the dress code?” said a deep gravelly voice.

  “Sorry, sir,” I said, thinking it was a teacher or a principal of all people. “My socks are wet. I just wanted to dry them.”

  “Relax, man. Don’t sweat it. I’m not going to rat you out,” the confident voice said.

  I looked back to see who was speaking. To my surprise, it was a student, a new student. “Sorry. I totally thought you were a teacher . . . I mean, you know.”

  “Hey, man. Do I look like a teacher? Do I look like a fricken authority figure? You got nothing to be sorry for. I thought anyone running barefoot had to be the second coming. We can use a little of the JC. You know what I mean?” he said, grinning.

  “Look, I can’t say I know everyone here, and I’ve been in this town for years. You are new. I don’t recall seeing you in the fall.” I was never great at eye contact, so I didn’t see his reaction initially.

  He was slightly taller than me with broad, athletic shoulders. He had long sandy brown hair almost to his shoulders and a hint of a beard. He was my age, yet seemed older in many ways. He had a cross around his neck, a black T-shirt under a very faded jean jacket, and had jeans even more worn than I did, and wore construction boots. What did catch my eye was the union jack logo on one front pocket of his jacket and an unmistakable logo on the other. Blue and white circles, wrapped around a red bull’s eye.

  “Yeah, I am new. Went to St. Peter’s Academy until Christmas. Now I’m here. And the first guy I meet is straight out of the bible. That blows me away,” he said teasingly.

  “You like The Who?” I asked, gesturing to the lapel of his jacket.

  “Man, for some prophet, there is a lot you don’t know. No one puts a band’s logo on their damn clothes unless they are a true worshipper of the rock altar they play on.”

  “Of course, silly me.” Just then the first bell rang, and I prepared to sprint off when his hand grabbed my arm forcefully.

  “What’s up with the running? No performer ever goes on stage on time. Let the audience wait. The show will be well worth it.” He winked at me and for some bizarre reason, I was in on whatever act he was performing.
>
  “Right.” Suddenly I was walking at a pace slower than maple syrup in March. My socks were left on top of the dryer, and by the time I reached history class, it was too late. As I walked into Room 176, I could hear the whispers, “Where are his shoes?” With the new kid behind me, I had no way to go but forward.

  The voice behind me said, “I’ll sit in the back of the class. You sit next to me in case I need answers. I know you’ll have the answers.”

  I grabbed a seat at the back, and sure enough, my new friend took the one right next to me. I think half the class was looking at my bare feet, and the other half was looking at the new kid. I was getting my notepad and pen out of my bag when I noticed a figure hovering over me.

  “Mr. Wells, it seems that you have forgotten your foot apparel today. What will it be tomorrow: no shirt, no underwear, or will you be going total Roman on us and be wearing a toga?” said the voice in a stern whisper.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Lewiston. My socks got wet, and I went to dry them, and the bell went off. I forgot about them. It won’t happen again.”

  “I am sure it won’t. Please leave and get your shoes and socks right away.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll go with him since he probably forgot where he left them and to make sure he comes back in one piece,” said the stranger, leaping out of his chair and hurrying across the classroom amid the laughter that now had started.

  I turned back quickly to the see the new kid following me. Behind him, I could see the smiling class, and the biggest surprise was the smile on Mrs. Lewiston’s face. She was clearly enjoying the distraction on the first day of the winter semester.

  I waited for the new kid to catch up with me. “You know that is the first time I have seen Mrs. Lewiston smile—and probably the first time she has spoken to me and I cannot believe I didn’t get a detention.”

  “You must be kidding. She likes you. You must be an excellent student. I can tell. Besides teachers can have a sense of humor. They all do.”

  “I’m serious. I had her last semester. I didn’t even think she knew my name.”

  “She is a cutie. Maybe a bit too old for you. I’ll fix you up with someone your age who isn’t married. You got my word.”

  “What makes you think I need to be fixed up?” I wasn’t very convincing in my bare feet, torn jeans, and wearing a shirt only a mom would buy for her son.

  “Okay, okay. You can do your own fishing, just do not catch what I throw back. I’m sure you know that looks bad.”

  “Deal. By the way, what’s your name and what are you doing here, besides getting me expelled?”

  “Name is Marius. You do not need to know my last name. First-name basis, since I saved you from history class. We’re blood brothers now. I should let you know I was kicked out of my last school.”

  “No way.”

  “Between you and me, the story is that I got kicked out. The truth is my dad lost his job and couldn’t afford it anymore, so here I am.” Suddenly, his face took on a serious expression. There was no doubt he was entrusting me with the truth.

  “Hey, nothing wrong with that. Trust me. You won’t have any trouble making anyone believe you got kicked out. No offense.”

  “None taken. By the way, it would be a good idea if your socks weren’t inside out.”

  I think it took a few minutes to walk back to class. I sheepishly entered the class with my head down. With my seat all the way at the back, I knew I would have to run the gauntlet of leering faces. Fortunately, as I made my way in, I could hear Marius’s voice boom.

  “Mrs. Lewiston, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marius. I’m the new kid. I humbly apologize for disrupting what might be the very best lecture in the school. It won’t happen again.”

  By then, I had reached my seat and all eyes were transfixed on the stranger. I was safe and had flown under the radar until . . .

  “I do apologize, Mrs. Lewiston and classmates, for mistaking my dear friend for the Savior. It was the bare feet that threw me off!”

  I could just form a faint smile as the classroom roared with laughter. I fixed my eyes on my desk until it was over, barely feeling Marius as he messed my hair before he sat down. When I finally mustered the courage to look up at Mrs. Lewiston, she shook her head with a broad smile on her face and went back to her lesson.

  As in all schools, news of a new student got around fast, in this case, by lunchtime, it was the talk of the grade. By second period, Thomas had found me in the hallways.

  “I heard what happened. Were you the kid with the bare feet? Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cool. That is chick-magnet material. Good stuff. I’ll have your spot saved for lunch. See you then.”

  At that moment, I knew that finding a quiet place by myself to chill was not going to happen. I also felt a lot less isolated than I had in months.

  The arrival of Marius in my second to last year of high school—and my life—is most easily described simply as welcome. He forced me to stay in tune with his lead or be exposed and spotlighted as a helpless outsider. I played rhythm guitar behind his vocals. He was loud at the worst of times and, thankfully, incredibly confident and self-aware at the best. In his way, he gave me a voice I never knew I had. He often repeated observations that I whispered to him in class and plated them like a skilled chef to his captive audience, student, and teacher alike. I found it intriguing to see my words trigger such delight. I was the composer, and he was the singer.

  Marius was not the model student by anyone’s stretch of imagination. It was evident his spare time was spent just being cool. Alternatively, he had every seventies rock song memorized. He could easily recite the lyrics when pressed. Granted, each song carried the same melody when sung by him. No one dared call him out on it.

  He was physically imposing at almost six feet tall. His jacket pocket usually had a pack of Marlboros partially exposed.

  I couldn’t understand the interest Marius had in me or why he took me under his wing. At the best of times, I was a flawed anti-hero in his great epic. Feeling awkward with my head lowered as girls passed, I avoided any semblance of eye contact at all costs. Despite my shyness, he chose me as his friend from that first day we met. He would seek me out when he got a test result or needed help. When bored, he would focus the attention on me, knowing how uncomfortable that would make me. There were times when I thought he looked down on me as the squeaky toy for a playful dog. However, he would always apologize after for putting me on the spot and then tell me just to relax and enjoy. “Kiran,” he would say, “there are plenty of days ahead to be old and boring. Just not on my watch.” The one thing that was clear was that I considered him my friend and deep down I knew he had my back.

  There was jealousy over having this new character soaking up the limelight and being popular with the girls at school. Because of it, the others in my grade who I sort of hung around with, like Thomas, kept a distance from Marius, and therefore, from me. I suspected that they no longer knew how I fit into our circle of friends and, more specifically, how I no longer fit into the cell they had kept me in all these years.

  The winter semester passed quickly, my grades improved with my newfound confidence, and spring was soon approaching. A rumor spread around our class of a new student joining us shortly. Apparently, someone was transferring from another school. The term “bullied” came up in conversation. He supposedly skipped a grade years earlier.

  As we were leaving the school one day, I mentioned to Marius that I heard a new student was coming. He grinned at me and said, “Don’t worry. I already know. Mrs. Lewiston told me to be on ‘exemplary’ behavior with him, or else.”

  “I heard he’s younger.”

  “Yeah. I heard a year or so. I guess they don’t want me corrupting him, too.” He laughed.

  “Really, who else did you corrupt?” I laughed at my
question. “Ah, I see.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The morning bell rang, and everyone lined up to go back inside when I felt a tug on my sleeve. It was now early March, and it had been an unusually warm beginning to the last month of winter. We’d gotten to school early to play touch football. With each passing day, the arrival of a new student grew less likely.

  “Hey, Wells! I think you left your jacket on the fence.”

  “Shit. You’re right, thanks.” I looked across to the far end of the schoolyard. Sure enough, my jacket was hanging on the steel fence where I’d hung. I could also see a solitary figure moving toward it. I knew I was going to be late, but the darn jacket was new. There was no way I was going to let anyone steal it. “Who’s the kid near the fence?”

  “No idea. Must be someone’s younger brother.”

  Marius looked up and guessed. “New kid. I can smell the young blood a mile away.”

  “Weird that he’s coming to us so late in the year.”

  “I heard he moved in with his aunt. Some crazy stuff with his parents.”

  The rumors swirled like a Sahara sandstorm, as they always did with a new student. Stories in high school went viral quickly. They took root, whether they were true or not. It was rare for someone to change school this late in the year. Usually, it was beginning of a semester. His must be a special case.

  What a way to start a day. I raced across the yard as fast as I could, not taking my eyes off the jacket or the guy hovering around it. The funny thing was that as I got closer, I realized he wasn’t even trying to steal it. He was just standing and walking in a semi-circle around it, almost like he was studying it. I stopped about six to eight feet behind him. His back was turned. I could have clocked him, and he would never have seen it coming.