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Shark

Page 6

by Jeff Ross


  I gave her my cell phone. “Anything happens, you call the police, okay?” I said. “Stay in here. Hide in the closet if you have to.” I hated doing this to her. Filling her with fear again.

  “Who is that hammering?” Mom called.

  “Mom, leave it,” I yelled as I ran out of the room. But I was too late. She’d already opened the door. War busted into the room, looking like hell. He had a black eye, a bruised cheek, a long cut across his forehead. His left arm was in a cast. He was scruffy again, hunkered in his leather jacket.

  “You little fucker,” he said. “You screwed that up.”

  “Warren!” Mom said.

  “You shut up,” War snarled.

  “Don’t talk to my mom like that.”

  Mom seemed to want to speak but just stood there, looking stunned.

  “Oh, now you’re going to stand up to me?”

  I could see something in his eyes. The same thing I’d seen in the eyes of the hockey dad just before he’d swung at my dad that day. Pure rage. This was directed right at me. It felt awful. It felt as if I was falling back in time, and all the feelings and emotions were rolling back out. Ready to swallow me.

  War was big. But I made a quick assessment and decided that if it came to it, especially with the one arm in a sling, he wouldn’t destroy me.

  He came at me and grabbed my collar.

  “Warren!” Mom yelled.

  War spun me around, hitting a lamp and sending it smashing to the floor.

  “You abandoned me, you little shit.” I didn’t reply. I didn’t have anything to say. “We’re doubling the amount I need now. Sixteen.”

  He had me in a one-armed bear hug. I brought my arms up and smashed them back into his stomach. He let go immediately. I spun around to face him. He was holding his injured arm, his face still twisted with that rage.

  “We’re over,” I said. “I have nothing to do with this.”

  “Yes you do, son. I’m in your life now.”

  “Warren,” Mom pleaded. “Mark, what’s going on?”

  “I’m not doing it again,” I said. “That’s not how I play.”

  “You will, or I’ll make your lives a living hell.”

  He came at me again, his arm raised. He could hit me, that I knew. But I didn’t care. I wasn’t giving in to him. I wasn’t giving in to a bully. I was not going to be the victim of someone else’s anger.

  I brought my leg up as he approached and drove my foot into his knee. He fell sideways, taking a side table with him. He swung as he went down and caught me on the side. I fell back, smashing into the mirror that covered the hall closet door. A second later he was up again, hobbling toward me. He was about to throw another punch, one that would certainly have knocked me out, but my mother grabbed his arm. He shrugged her off, and when she came at him again he tossed her to the side, sending her headfirst into a wall. I was so angry that I jumped up and ran dead into him. But he was bigger and stronger, and a moment later I was pinned beneath him again. He had his fist raised, ready to drive it into my face, when I heard the sirens.

  One of the things that had appealed to my mom about the little house she’d found when she decided to move us here was that it was only a block away from a police station. Not one of those little community ones either, but a real one. One where officers were always coming and going. Where someone was always around. So when Wendy called the police, officers were dispatched from less than a block away.

  War was dragged away in cuffs. Mom and I each told our story of what had happened. I had to sit there in front of her and tell her about the gambling. About how War had promised he’d be a never-ending part of our lives if I didn’t play along. She looked as if she was about to cry. The giant bump on her forehead was awful to see. Maybe the worst thing ever.

  I had a broken rib and various cuts on my face and arms, which was no fun for me but much worse for War. I’m seventeen, which meant he’d come into our home and assaulted a minor.

  When the police were done with their questions and everyone had left, my mom said, “I had no idea.” It was just the three of us again, the family.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said. “He should never have preyed on a kid.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. The police told us that that War was going to be in jail for quite some time, probably somewhere upstate. Assault on a minor is pretty serious, especially when you are already on probation. Since he wasn’t from around here originally, the police said it was unlikely we would ever hear from him again.

  That’s what we would hope for. That War would disappear from our lives completely.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Hippy asked, I told him the whole story. At first I wasn’t going to. I mean, it’s embarrassing, right? The way War inserted himself into our lives. The way he took advantage of me.

  The way he made me do things I swore I would never do.

  Hippy laid a hand on my shoulder and shook his head.

  “And here you are,” he said. “Right?”

  “Right.” I leaned down to take my shot and thought about those words. And here you are. That was the point, right? It was shit. I’d made some poor choices, but here I was.

  It all could have been worse in countless ways.

  Mom has decided to visit Dad in prison. They’ve talked on the phone a few times in the past few weeks, but she has yet to actually go visit. It isn’t that she blames him for what happened. It was an accident, after all. But it was an accident that could have been avoided. He could have managed his anger. He could have left it all alone.

  He could have let me stand up for myself that day rather than getting in the middle of it all.

  “I should have told my mom what was happening,” I said to Hippy.

  “You did what you did, man. It’s behind you now. Yeah, learn from it, I guess. But don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  “Okay, whatever you say.” I banged the four and then the eight into a side pocket and straightened.

  “I’m going to beat you one of these days,” Hippy said.

  “Whatever you say,” I replied, laughing.

  We have not seen War again. Apparently, he was released on bail and then disappeared. The officer who came to our house the night of the fight returned to fill us in. Turned out old War was wanted in a couple of other states too. He’d likely gone someplace where the police didn’t know about him.

  You won’t see him around here, the officer said. But if you do, give us a call. And that was that.

  I can tell Mom wishes Dad was around. We didn’t tell him anything about the whole mess. He is in counseling, working on his anger, and we were worried that if he heard about it, his guilt at being unable to protect us would push him over the edge again.

  None of this has helped Wendy at all. She is still afraid of men and likely will be for a long time to come. She has dug into her art and hides in her room after school, reading books. And she has never talked to me about anything that happened that night. I think she will someday, but in her own time.

  As for me, I’m fine. I wish I could say I’m great. But I feel awful about how I behaved. I could have reached out for help. I could have talked to Mom or Hippy or even the police. I didn’t have to do all of that alone. I didn’t have to let myself be sucked in. I didn’t have to do what someone told me to do because he said he owned me.

  No one owns me. I will never allow someone to think that again. If I learned anything at all from this, it’s that you can’t let people push you around.

  But, at the same time, you don’t have to push back either.

  Jeff Ross is an award-winning author of several novels for young adults, including the Orca Soundings titles Coming Clean and A Dark Truth. He currently teaches scriptwriting and English at Algonquin College in Ottawa, Ontario, where he lives with his wife and two sons. For more information, visit www.jeffrossbooks.com.

  Titles in the Series

 
Another Miserable Love Song

  Brooke Carter

  B Negative

  Vicki Grant

  Back

  Norah McClintock

  Bang

  Norah McClintock

  Battle of the Bands

  K.L. Denman

  Big Guy

  Robin Stevenson

  Bike Thief

  Rita Feutl

  Blue Moon

  Marilyn Halvorson

  Breaking Point

  Lesley Choyce

  Breathing Fire

  Sarah Yi-Mei Tsiang

  Breathless

  Pam Withers

  Bull Rider

  Marilyn Halvorson

  Bull’s Eye

  Sarah N. Harvey

  Caged

  Norah McClintock

  Cellular

  Ellen Schwartz

  Charmed

  Carrie Mac

  Chill

  Colin Frizzell

  Comeback

  Vicki Grant

  Coming Clean

  Jeff Ross

  Crash

  Lesley Choyce

  Crush

  Carrie Mac

  Cuts Like a Knife

  Darlene Ryan

  Damage

  Robin Stevenson

  A Dark Truth

  Jeff Ross

  The Darwin Expedition

  Diane Tullson

  Dead-End Job

  Vicki Grant

  Deadly

  Sarah N. Harvey

  Dead Run

  Sean Rodman

  Death Wind

  William Bell

  Desert Slam

  Steven Barwin

  Down

  Norah McClintock

  Enough

  Mary Jennifer Payne

  Exit Point

  Laura Langston

  Exposure

  Patricia Murdoch

  Fallout

  Nikki Tate

  Fastback Beach

  Shirlee Smith Matheson

  Final Crossing

  Sean Rodman

  Firewall

  Sean Rodman

  First Time

  Meg Tilly

  Foolproof

  Diane Tullson

  Grind

  Eric Walters

  Hannah’s Touch

  Laura Langston

  Heavy Freight

  Sigmund Brouwer

  The Hemingway Tradition

  Kristin Butcher

  Hit Squad

  James Heneghan

  Homecoming

  Diane Dakers

  Home Invasion

  Monique Polak

  House Party

  Eric Walters

  I.D.

  Vicki Grant

  Identify

  Lesley Choyce

  Impact

  James C. Dekker

  Impossible

  Jocelyn Shipley

  Infiltration

  Sean Rodman

  In Plain Sight

  Laura Langston

  In the Woods

  Robin Stevenson

  Jacked

  Carrie Mac

  Juice

  Eric Walters

  Kicked Out

  Beth Goobie

  Knifepoint

  Alex Van Tol

  Kryptonite

  Lesley Choyce

  Last Ride

  Laura Langston

  Learning Seventeen

  Brooke Carter

  Learning to Fly

  Paul Yee

  Lockdown

  Diane Tullson

  Masked

  Norah McClintock

  Middle Row

  Sylvia Olsen

  My Side

  Norah McClintock

  My Time as Caz Hazard

  Tanya Lloyd Kyi

  Night Terrors

  Sean Rodman

  No More Pranks

  Monique Polak

  No Problem

  Dayle Campbell Gaetz

  Off the Grid

  Lesley Choyce

  One More Step

  Sheree Fitch

  One Way

  Norah McClintock

  Outback

  Robin Stevenson

  Overdrive

  Eric Walters

  Pain & Wastings

  Carrie Mac

  Picture This

  Norah McClintock

  Pinch Me

  Gabrielle Prendergast

  Plastic

  Sarah N. Harvey

  Rat

  Lesley Choyce

  Reaction

  Lesley Choyce

  Redline

  Alex Van Tol

  Refuge Cove

  Lesley Choyce

  Responsible

  Darlene Ryan

  Riley Park

  Diane Tullson

  Riot Act

  Diane Tullson

  River Traffic

  Martha Brack Martin

  Rock Star

  Adrian Chamberlain

  Running the Risk

  Lesley Choyce

  Saving Grace

  Darlene Ryan

  Scam

  Lesley Choyce

  Scum

  James C. Dekker

  Sea Change

  Diane Tullson

  Shallow Grave

  Alex Van Tol

  Shark

  Jeff Ross

  Shattered

  Sarah N. Harvey

  Skylark

  Sara Cassidy

  Sleight of Hand

  Natasha Deen

  Snitch

  Norah McClintock

  Something Girl

  Beth Goobie

  Spiral

  K.L. Denman

  Sticks and Stones

  Beth Goobie

  Stuffed

  Eric Walters

  Tagged

  Eric Walters

  Tap Out

  Sean Rodman

  Tell

  Norah McClintock

  The Way Back

  Carrie Mac

  Thunderbowl

  Lesley Choyce

  Tough Trails

  Irene Morck

  Triggered

  Vicki Grant

  The Trouble with Liberty

  Kristin Butcher

  Truth

  Tanya Lloyd Kyi

  Under Threat

  Robin Stevenson

  Up North

  Jeff Ross

  Viral

  Alex Van Tol

  Wave Warrior

  Lesley Choyce

  The Way Back

  Carrie Mac

  Who Owns Kelly Paddik?

  Beth Goobie

  Yellow Line

  Sylvia Olsen

  Zee’s Way

  Kristin Butcher

 

 

 


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