The Tower

by Lynn Moon

  “Ah, man,” I yelled. “Ow.”

  Using my backpack as a shield against the sharp thorns, I struggled to get up. Unfortunately, with me came most of the now crumbled vine. My grandmother’s huge plant, with thorns bigger than my little finger, now looked dead under my feet. Feeling stupid and wondering if I killed the darn thing, I sucked on my wounded hands as I limped to the stable. As usual, Saddlebag’s snorts greeted me. Smelling the fresh hay, I paused to enjoy a few deep breaths. I thought about returning to my room, but quickly ignored it. I needed this escape.

  Glancing down, panic sliced through my stomach. Covering my legs were the vines and leaves from my grandmother’s rosebush. One-by-one, I pulled them from my sweatpants. After a while, my legs were vine-free. Staring at my now bloody face in the old mirror, I cringed as the cool water soothed my cuts and scratches. I often wondered why someone had put a sink and mirror on the outside of the old barn. Tonight, I was glad that they did. Examining myself in the dim light, I groaned. A few of the cuts would definitely leave a mark on my face.

  Standing under the darkened skies, I paused as the cool evening breeze embraced me. Why me? Why can’t I have a normal life with a normal family?

  Saddlebag snorted, again. Funny, he could nudge me awake without even touching me.

  “Sorry, big boy.” With my hands still shaking, I rubbed his neck. “You’re ready to run, too? Let’s get outta here.”

  As always, the familiar sound of the creaking saddle renewed my spirits. Unconsciously, we aimed straight for the towers. The pounding of Saddlebag’s hooves against the hardened earth almost matched my heartbeats. We rested on the ridge that overlooked the two towers. The towers’ silhouettes almost glowed through the darkness. Could they somehow be creating their own energy? Crazy thought. Together, they looked wicked, evil maybe. Was an invisible force somehow controlling them? A lone lamppost, casting eerie shadows along one side, grabbed my attention. I shivered wondering what ghosts waited for me inside the darkness.

  Charles had explained that these towers housed our water supply; ours and three other families. To me, however, they were my towers. My personal sanctuary away from the crazy world that haunted me. Even if there were evil spirits hiding somewhere down there, I still had every right in the world to intrude.

  Releasing the reins gave Saddlebag the control he so enjoyed. As we entered the small valley, I yawned. Even though sleepy, I still wanted to be with my towers. After tying the reins to the lower rung, I climbed. As so many times before, I counted to one hundred before I finally reached the top. Every twenty steps or so, I stopped to catch my breath. I must really be tired tonight.

  I found that the best view was on the side overlooking downtown Atlanta. At night, the lights gave off such a brilliant show. I loved watching the planes the most; just tiny specks that danced along the horizon. Where were all the passengers going? Did a young girl sit alone on one of them, scared in the knowledge that her life was changing forever? It seemed a lifetime ago when I sat alone on one of those planes; a lifetime that I once enjoyed so much more than this one.

  Up here among the stars, my thoughts were truly mine. I could erase all my negative feelings and almost recharge my soul. Spreading out a small blanket, I sat. Leaning my back against the tower, the coolness slowly filled me, replacing my built-up anger. After a few moments, I ripped opened a bag of potato chips and popped open a soda. The sizzle echoed through the valley, making me smile. As the wind carried my anger even farther away, my mind relaxed a little more. I was finally starting to feel like myself again.

  “It’s nothing personal, yah know.” A familiar and frightening voice startled me.

  Tensing up, the soda splashed onto my sweatpants. Brushing away the drops, my heart froze as my eyes locked onto the face of the meanest girl at school. Christina, who tortured me daily in English and equestrian, boldly stood before me on my personal tower. The girl who nick named me Powder Puff because my skin looked more white than black, had the audacity to invade my personal space. I prayed she was just an illusion—a nightmare. Maybe if I blinked enough times, she’d disappear.

  Christina knelt down and repeated her words, slowly. “It’s nothing personal, yah know.”

  Accepting that my illusion was real, I sighed. Christina, my very own personal nightmare, was standing right in front of me.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, wishing my heart would stop pounding so hard every time I saw her. “What’s not personal?”

  “Us, hating each other.”

  Never in my life had I ever hated anybody, and I wasn’t about to start now.

  “I don’t hate you, Christina.” My mother had taught me to accept others; no matter what. I wasn’t about to violate her trust now just because of one bad girl.

  “You’ve got to hate us, Powder Puff.”

  Christina glanced down at my bag of chips. I could almost feel her taste buds awakening inside my mouth. Looking away, I held out the bag.

  “Here, help yourself,” I said, not really wanting to share.

  “Got another one of those?”

  Her eyes glanced down at my drink. I pulled another from my bag and handed it to her.

  “Thanks.” She winked as she popped the top. “Where you from, anyway?”

  “New York.”

  “What brought you here?”

  “My mother died. I’m living with my dad now. I had never met him before. It’s not easy.” I wasn’t sure why I told her that. It just came out.

  Christina stared at me. Was she trying to analyze or decipher me; determine what made me tick? Taking another sip, she twirled a chip between her fingers.

  “You didn’t know your dad? Really?”

  “Nope, not even his name.”

  “So, now that you’ve met him, what’d yah think?”

  “Okay for a guy, I guess.”

  “He’s a really good lawyer. Too bad he doesn’t help his own.”

  That was how they talked all the time. Always acting as if it was us against them. To me, it was stupid. We were all in it together, whatever it was, which I had no idea.

  “By his own, you mean black?” I asked.

  “Ah-huh.” Christina grabbed several more chips. “He only helps white people. You knew that, right? Few years ago he got that guy off.” Christina stared into the darkness as if trying to see something. “That murderer. He killed those kids on purpose.”

  “What kids?”

  “Shot ‘em just ‘cuz they walked down his street. By the way, Powder Puff, in case you didn’t know, one of those kids was my baby brother. He was only seven.”

  “I’m sorry, Christina. I didn’t know.” Chills ran up my spine. A murderer? My father helped a murderer? My hands were shaking again. Why would he do such a thing? Just for money?

  “It was a long time ago, Powder Puff.” She took another sip. “I got over it, but I’ll never forget.”

  “Did it happen at night? Maybe the guy couldn’t tell it was just kids? Maybe he thought they were planning on breaking into his house or something.”

  “Black people are always breaking into white people’s houses, right?”

  Why did she always have to turn my sentences around like that?

  “I just meant that in the dark,” I tried to explain, “maybe he couldn’t tell who they were.”

  “It wasn’t at night, nope, middle of the day. Sun as bright as ever. Guess he didn’t care if they was kids or not.”

  She frightened me. At the same time, I kind of felt sorry for her.

  “You’ve got it bad, Powder Puff.” She emphasized my nickname. “You’re not white and you’re not black, and your father is a white wanna-be. You might as well do yourself a favor and jump off this tower tonight. End it before it gets worse, and it will, yah know.”

  I couldn’t believe what she just suggested. What Him Crocker did or didn’t do in court shouldn’t have anything to do with me. Christina stood, brushing off her jeans. Taking another sip, she poi
nted toward the small private lake.

  “I live just over there.” She smiled down at me. “Funny huh? We’re neighbors and we can’t be friends. I’m almost sorry about that.” The look on her face surprised me. Was that empathy in her eyes? “Actually, Powder Puff, you’re a nice person. And … they shouldn’t have done that to your saddle yah know. Jessie and Kera have some real issues, so don’t trust them.” She stared at me frowning for a moment before adding, “I really am sorry. But, I do have to hate you.”

  Then, she disappeared down the ladder. As her lone shadow walked toward her home, the echo of Saddlebag’s hooves pounding against the ground reinforced her feelings toward me. She had let him go. I’d have to walk the several miles back to my house, in the dark, alone.

  CHAPTER 15

  A SIMPLE THING

  IT WAS MIDDLE MAY, and in just a few weeks, classes would end for the summer. I’d been in that school for several months now, and every day my fear and anticipation of what would happen to me grew stronger, making my life even more miserable. To make matters worse, my dad drove me to school every morning; a requirement at DA. I already accepted the fact that he hated me and didn’t want me living with him. It was the only explanation I could come up with. We hardly ever said a word to each other, other than three: good morning or good evening.

  One good thing; no one messed with my replacement saddle. Unfortunately, my damaged one sat openly at the stable’s entrance as a reminder to all students that the administration was watching. I wasn’t sure if it accomplished that. However, it did remind me of my total embarrassment on a day that I’d rather forget.

  Our term for tennis had ended, and since every end followed with a start, it was time for swimming. The school provided our swimsuits—black with a red stripe running along both sides. At my old school, I was on the swim team. Although I never won a race, I never came in last either. Just before lunch, instead of changing into shorts, I now had to change into a tight elastic swimsuit. Yuck. It looked like something my grandmother would wear.

  Spinning the dial on the gym locker several times, I wanted to make sure it locked. I did not need any more vulgarity written inside my textbooks. I could hardly read the words now. Kera and Jessie walked by, giggling. As always, I knew their pleasure came at my expense. Again, I didn’t know why.

  The steam from the indoor pool covered the windows blocking the wonderful sunlight. Why does a gym have windows if they’re just going to steam up anyway? My towel refused to stay on the hook, so I tossed it onto a nearby bench. The coach waved for me to hurry.

  “We have a lot to go over girls,” she yelled. “Please take your seats.”

  Sitting down at my assigned place on the cold metal bench, the coolness tickled the back of my legs. At the same time, it felt a little warm. What an odd sensation. Behind me, Kera and Jessie laughed. I glanced around. I couldn’t figure out what was so funny. As Joe had suggested, I just ignored them.

  “Okay class, settle down. Today we’re going to work on our breast stroke.” The instructor demonstrated how to move our arms, and the girls behind me giggled even more. She did look funny flinging her arms in the air. I smiled. “Katie and Petunia, you two were on a swim team before. Come up here and demonstrate the stroke for us.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” Katie said, jumping up from the bench and skipping over to the instructor.

  Her eagerness to impress everyone rubbed me the wrong way. Refusing to be last, I too jumped up. As soon as my legs left the bench, I heard a scream; my scream. The back of my legs burned as if on fire as blood pooled around my feet. My whole body shook. I doubled over in pain as if someone had just punched me in the gut. Streams of sweat ran into my eyes. The room spun in all directions, pulling me to the floor. What was happening to me?

  “Oh, my,” the instructor yelled. “Kevin, call 9-1-1. Kevin, where are you?”

  “I’m right here.” Kevin, the assistant coach, threw several towels at Coach Stevens. “Apply pressure, quick. She’s losing blood.”

  “What happened?” Coach Stevens yelled so loud, it hurt my ears.

  They both looked scared. Kevin pushed on my back, forcing me onto my stomach. I fought to get up, but didn’t have the strength. My legs burned. I needed to get them to the water; cool them off. Why wouldn’t he let me up? I screamed again as Kevin pushed several towels onto my legs.

  “Stop touching me.” As pain shot through my legs and into my chest, I flung my arms out at him, trying to grab hold of the towels. “Get away from me.”

  “Her skin’s still on the bench.” Although Kevin whispered, I heard his words.

  My skin was still on the bench; what was he talking about? Pain ricocheted again through my body. Only this time, I could hear a bell. The pain hitting like waves reminded me of a ringing bell. Resting my head against my arm, I ignored the sound and concentrated on breathing. For some reason, once I inhaled my lungs refused to let it go. A million knives kept slicing through my skin. It hurt so much I couldn’t think. Everything looked so dark. As I fought for what little air I could get, I screamed.

  Way off in the distance, sirens blared. Were they for me? Instead of getting closer, they seemed to be going farther away. Everything seemed to be going farther away. I hardly heard my coach’s voice anymore. Then a terrifying sound ran through my ears, digging deeply into my soul. It was the sound of the girls’ laughter. Their extreme happiness crushed what little hope I had at ever being happy at DA. In its place, was a deep emotional bruise that I knew would never heal.

  Reality didn’t sink in until much later that evening. Opening my eyes, I knew right away I was in a hospital room. Bandages covered my legs from my waist to my toes. I resembled a mummy. My left arm ached from an IV that ran to a plastic bag hanging on a metal hook. As I tried to pull the needle from my arm, my father grabbed my hand.

  “Don’t touch it, Pete,” he whispered. “Do you hurt?”

  I nodded. “I don’t feel so good.”

  “Do you remember what happened?”

  I shook my head.

  “I’ll tell you what happened. Some, some thing painted fast-acting glue on the bench. No one confessed, of course. But this was a deliberate act of pure hatred.”

  “Everyone knew that was my seat.” It hurt to talk. My father stared down at me. Was he angry with me?

  “Do you always have issues like this?” he asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Like this?” he repeated, waving his hands above my bed.

  “Are you asking if I’m used to people treating me like crap?” Why would he ask such as stupid question? “Of course not. I want to go home, now. I want my real friends back. I want my real school. And I want my mom. She’d know what to do.”

  “Pete, this kind of stuff just isn’t normal.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? This would never happen at my old school.”

  As we argued, a light knock rapped on my door. I couldn’t resist a small smile when Joe peeked around the corner. With his face partly blocked by a large bouquet of flowers, he entered the room.

  “Colorful flowers for a colorful girl.”

  “Hi,” I whispered. When our eyes met, my tears fell.

  “Ah, little one.” Joe hugged me around my shoulders.

  “What’s going on at that school, Joe?” Was my father demanding answers from my riding instructor? Joe was nowhere near the pool when this happened.

  “We’re not sure.” Joe rubbed my shoulder as he talked. “For some reason a few of the students seem to be after her.”

  “What’s she doing to provoke them?” my father asked, his eyes glaring at Joe.

  “Provoke them?” Joe repeated my father’s words. “Nothing. What in the world makes you believe that Pete is provoking them?”

  At least someone was standing up for me. Although, it should have been my father.

  “The administration has questioned every student,” Joe added, as he glared over at my dad. “So far, nothing. We simp
ly have nothing to go on.”

  “They hate me.” I wiped my eyes. “Christina said it’s because I’m white and not black. She said you freed a murderer that killed her little brother.” I pointed my finger at my dad. If he was going to accuse me of this, I was returning the favor by accusing him of creating my terrible new life. “She said I’d never fit in, no matter what, because of you. She said that you are just a white wanna be.”

  The anger on my dad’s face said it all. Now I knew for sure that he hated me.

  “What happens in my courtroom has nothing to do with you. That girl had no business saying such things. I’ll close that place down if I have to.” My dad stormed out of my hospital room, his ranting and raving echoing through the hallway. He didn’t even take the time to say goodbye.

  “He acts as if this is my fault.” I couldn’t stop crying. The tears just kept falling.

  “It isn’t your fault, little one.” Joe kissed the top of my head. “The doctor said you can go home in a few days. Let’s concentrate on that.”

  I couldn’t concentrate on going home. My legs hurt. However, after two days in that dreary hospital room, the doctors did send me home. For two weeks, I recovered in my own bed. When I did return to school, gym classes were a non-issue. I sat in the administration building instead. Were they punishing me because people didn’t like me? My reflection in the office window disgusted me. Now I saw why people hated me so much. The sight even made me sick.

  Riding my horses was also off limits. With my legs throbbing, I couldn’t imagine sitting in a saddle anyway. After my accident, Charles arrived an hour earlier to pick me up. That was what everyone was calling it; my accident. It wasn’t an accident, was it? Nope, it was an intention.

  Each day I seemed to leave the office more depressed than ever. The only bright spot to this whole mess was leaving school early. An extra hour meant empty hallways. Empty hallways meant no one to pick on me.