We said our goodbyes to Mark and I took the childish pleasure of pounding on Dave’s door till he dragged his ass out of bed and opened it. I smiled at him. “Bye Dave!”
He just stared at me and then shut the door in my face. I marked it as a victory and headed for the car and the tedious three-hour drive home.
***
After we arrived, I said, “Hi,” to my mom and went upstairs, closed the door, and sat on my bed with my back against the wall. I laid still and let the silence suck the noise from my head. I cast about for something to take my mind off the mayhem the mound had created in my orderly cause-and-effect physics-based reality. Of course, my search first reeled in my impending trial, which made me feel worse, so I recast and caught the memory of my dryad dreams. Now that was a keeper!
I lost myself in thoughts of her and eventually fancied I could actually feel the fond attention of my dryad. For some time, I soaked in my dream memories and watched the shadow leaves of my oak tree dance on the sunlit floor. It seemed they were dancing to the rhythm running through my head.
I could have sat there all day resting in limbo, but some internal timer went off. Shaking off the spell cast by the quiet peace I had found, I climbed off my bed and went to my desk to start my exciting afternoon of studying. As soon as I kick-started my brain, it revved up and ran off on its own.
Erik and my trial on Monday were the first destination. Not a happy place. As I considered facing the board, my heart ran fast, my hands started to sweat, and my mind churned with worst-case scenarios. Battleaxe Kramer would take her revenge against me and have me thrown me out for good. If that happens, how am I ever going to get into a collage? It isn’t fair. I get beaten up, and they throw me out of school? Erik was the crazy maniac, not me. Damn it, I should just leave, save everyone the trouble. Go off on my own…
My internal watcher, the voice that burst my bubbles, mocked my stupidity, and generally chastised my ego said, Don’t be a juvenile drama queen. It’s embarrassing.
I tried to follow my advice, shook off the pity party, and tried to bring my wayward attention back to French. I took a deep breath. Okay, the past participle of avoir is… Damn, that skull was hideous and scary. Uncle Mark could be its first victim. I should warn him.
That got the watcher going again. Don’t be an idiot! Demons and monsters are only fantasy.
Oh, yeah? I replied to myself. People don’t have dryads living in their trees who heal them overnight, either!
Oh… right… hmmm… Well, there’s nothing you can do about that, but if you fail French, you’re going to be spending another semester in high school! Get it together, Finn. Avoiding another semester in that pit is more important than life and death.
Am I strange because I can have conversations with myself? I’ve never felt brave enough to ask anyone else if they do it. I just hope they do. Anyway, I achieved partial success in scaring my focus back to French for a short while, and then somewhere between conjugating prendre and mettre, I found myself blankly staring at the black stick rolling around between my fingers. I had unknowingly picked it up.
My inner watcher kicked in yet again. Get a grip, Finn! Put the stick down and leave it alone.
But, it feels so good! I love the weight of it, the look of it, and the feel of it.
Perhaps you should clasp it to your chest with both hands and start cackling, “My Precious! Yessss!”
That made me smile as I realized how melodramatic I had been. I got another string and tied it to the base of the stick, using the notches to hold it in place. When I finished, I looped the string over my head and dropped the stick under my shirt, where it rested against my chest—a warm and comforting presence.
After that, I tried working on some calculus to no better results. Finally, I jumped up, unable to be inside one more minute. So, I went out to mow the lawn. I absolutely hate mowing the lawn, so that should tell you a little bit about my state of mind.
I was stuck with it as one of my “contributions” to the family, so I tried to make the chore something interesting. I didn't merely mow the grass; I “sacrificed” it to Phred, the god of lawns, and a long-term, multi-year, project of mine. As I mowed, I’d chant under my breath:
Hail mighty Phred, accept this sweat and grass.
Banish weeds and rot so I get a weekend pass.
Back then, my thoughts existed only in my brain, blissfully isolated and safe. Indeed, back then if someone thought that wishing or believing something could cause it to happen, they were either religious or wacko.
For me, my little game became sort of a moving meditation. This time, I fit the words to the rhythm running through my head. The beat had changed, but it seemed a continuation of the same song. Between the mantra and the tune, I actually got my mind off just about everything else and regained some composure and focus by the time I finished. I love meditation. I’ve been big into it ever since my dad taught me how to banish my night terrors through meditation and guided visualization.
I returned to my room ready to study, and had just dived into my calculus when my mom called, “Finn, dinner!” I was doomed.
Sunday night after dinner, I lost my groove and attempted to push myself through my homework. I gave up and went to bed after a short while. It took a long time to fall asleep. Anxiety about Monday kept me awake until late. What was I going to do when they tossed me out of school? Would I ever be able to get to college? What would I do instead? Work at Mighty Burger? Maybe I could beg Uncle Mark for a job...
I woke up Monday morning a changed man. My dreams that night hadn’t been at all what I’d expected. Instead of running screaming from demons, bears, principles, or Erik Parmely, I spent the night in the arms of my dryad.
In my dream, a song came from outside my window. Lovely and compelling, the music picked me up and carried me to my window. I opened up the pane and the warm night air flowed inside, bringing the scent of spring—new green, growing things. At the base of the branch, my dryad sat nude, smiling coyly at me. In the light of day, I couldn’t tell you how she could be nude and coy, but she pulled it off.
I climbed out on the branch and shimmied over to her, and spent the rest of the night petting and cooing and exploring. The longer I stayed with her, the more real and intense the dream became. When I awoke, the dream burned in my mind instead of fading away. It stayed with me as I showered and got ready for the day, and I even headed downstairs singing.
“You seem awfully chipper this morning,” observed my mom as I bounced into the kitchen.
“Sure! Why not? It’s a beautiful day; school is almost out. What’s not to be happy about?”
“Beautiful day? It’s dreary and wet, and last night you went to bed like a man heading off to the gallows.”
I looked out the kitchen window for the first time that morning. Nature had called up an Ohio special—a drizzly, dull gray day.
“Er, yeah, well, no use in worrying about what you can’t control, is there? Besides, the weather suits my mood,” I offered.
Both my parents jumped into the car with me as we went to talk to the school board. I was relieved to have both of them with me, regardless of what that might say about me. As we came closer to school, the angst of the night before replaced my earlier exuberance. I never got into trouble at school. The whole idea seriously freaked me out. I wasn’t a straight-A student, but I had always kept my nose clean. My little tiff with the Battleaxe was about as serious as I ever pushed. It mattered what people thought of me—I wanted to be the good guy.
As soon as I walked into the school flanked by my parents, embarrassment turned my ears bright red. I fancied that everyone we passed snickered at little Finny.
Ah, Teen Angst, how I do not miss thee.
We walked to the principal’s office, and the scary receptionist ushered us into the meeting room. I didn't really consider whom I’d be facing, but it was a mixed bag. The receptionist introduced us to Principal Hayman, two people I didn’t know, Mr. Schneider, and
Ms. Kramer. My blood ran cold when I saw that she’d actually be one of the judges.
Why me, God? I try to be good. Really I do!
After the introductions, we sat down in plastic chairs facing the board members who sat behind a couple of long folding tables.
I’d never really had much interaction with Principal Hayman. I liked it that way. He was big, scary and represented punishment. I liked that we never had cause to so much as exchange greetings. I’d never seen the other board members, either. They didn’t make much of an impact on me, because I can’t even describe them while recounting this story. I guess they faded into unimportance compared to the salvation and doom I perceived in Schneider and Kramer.
Principal Hayman got right down to business. “Mr. and Mrs. Morgenstern, Finn, thank you for meeting with us today. I want to let you know that we were constrained by school policy to suspend Finn until we could convene a disciplinary board hearing. It does not speak to his guilt or innocence in the incident we’re going to talk about today—the alleged attack that took place last Wednesday off school grounds.
“Let me emphasize that this is a hearing. It is not a trial, and we try to be as informal as possible while getting to the truth of the matter. I do need to tell you that we are empowered to make a decision in this matter, and can ban Finn from school if we feel it’s necessary for the safety of our other students. Any decision we reach may be protested, and we can call a full board meeting to consider the matter further. Finn, can you tell us what happened to you on Wednesday evening last week around...” He looked at his notes, “eight o’clock?”
I took a deep, shaky breath and told them my story, from leaving work to waking up in the tree the next day. I tried to pour sincerity into my voice with every word, but as I talked, I got the sinking feeling that either they didn't believe me or didn't want to be bothered with this.
After I finished, the principal scribbled down a few more notes and asked, “Does anyone have any questions for Finn?”
There was silence in the room while everyone looked anywhere but at me or Hayman, like high school students who had no idea what the teacher was talking about. They didn't even bother to scoff at the shattering bat. My fate had been sealed even before I got there.
After the questions continued not to come, he addressed us. “Thank you Finn, Mr. and Mrs. Morgenstern, please wait in the front office while we finish discussing the matter.”
We obeyed and left the room. While dizzy with relief to be out of there, I was also worried sick about what they would conclude.
After what seemed to be a long wait, but couldn’t have been more than about ten minutes, the receptionist invited us back into the meeting room.
We sat down. Principal Hayman said, “I won’t draw this out. We feel that Finn is not a threat to any of the students of this school. His behavior and the testimony of his teachers and other students lead us to believe that this issue should be closed with no marks on his record or any sort of suspension, probation, or disciplinary actions.”
The verdict left me stunned with relief. I came here ready to be led off to the gallows, but instead, I was a free man. You probably get the feeling here that “rebel” is not a great description of me. Cherish that feeling as the absolute truth.
Mr. Schneider winked at me. Gratitude flooded me, and I knew this entire decision had been because of his input.
“Do you have any questions for us before we adjourn?” asked the principal.
“Yes, I do,” said my dad. “What about Erik Parmely? You all may feel comfortable having my son back in school, but I’m definitely not comfortable having Erik anywhere near Finn. He took a bat to my son. I don’t want to give him the chance to do something worse.”
“Yes, Mr. Morgenstern, we are aware that Erik is a seriously troubled young man. He has been in several fights since he arrived at our school. He will not be allowed back on the school grounds this semester. That ban will continue until we receive some sort of indication by a counselor that his needs have been met, and he has worked through his anger control issues.”
“What about the other two boys?”
“Those boys are under suspension until we can talk to them at more length,” he answered. “Finn, what are your feelings regarding Richard Granger and Chester Keating?”
“I think they’re both thugs and shouldn’t be allowed in school,” I said, in my best earnest and sincere voice.
“Without Erik Parmely’s influence, do you feel they would represent a threat to you or the rest of the students in this school?”
I wanted to say, “Yes, absolutely!” but my annoying sense of fairness kicked in. My response came out grudgingly. “No, probably not. We got along fine before Erik showed up.” Sometimes I hate my sense of fairness.
Principal Hayman leaned forward with his arms crossed on the table in front of him. “Thank you for that honest observation, Finn. It certainly matches what we have seen, though it’s not an excuse for their behavior. I can tell you that this hearing was a formality. We needed to make sure we followed all school district policies to the letter. I’m sorry for any inconvenience or anxiety this may have caused.”
Whoa! The last thing I had expected was an apology from the principal. After that, we stood up, shook hands all around, and left, followed by the board members. When we made it to the hall, I turned and waited for Mr. Schneider. My parents paused with me.
Ms. Kramer came out first. She paused to cast me a stern look. “Mr. Morgenstern, I expect to see you in class on time tomorrow. Don’t forget, you owe me an essay.”
I nodded nervously to my teacher. “Yes, Ms. Kramer.” After a curt nod to my parents, she headed down the hall.
Mr. Schneider emerged from the office with a typical half-grin on his face. “Well, Morgenstern, so much for your burgeoning life of crime.”
I sometimes wondered if he was secretly related to Dave. I grinned and said, “I just wanted to thank you for being here and helping out in there.”
“No problem, Morgenstern. It wasn’t just me, though. Mrs. Kramer was just as convinced as I that you were not the type to do something like that.” That took me more by surprise than me being let off. “Really?”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong. She thinks you stink at composition and don’t appreciate the importance of articulate writing, but she doesn’t think you’re a criminal.”
“Wow! That’s better than I thought I would get from her!”
“You’re a good kid, Morgenstern.” He made a chin chucking gesture, then turned to my parents, and said, “You’ve got a bright one here. As soon as he gets some self-confidence and a little motivation, he’ll be someone who’ll go places.”
My mom smiled at that. “We know.”
I blushed. Before we left, a thought occurred to me. “Mr. Schneider! Hey, we were at a dig this weekend down near Serpent Mound, and we found this skull.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Yeah, it was great. But we found this skull that was all nasty and misshapen. It had these horny growths all over it. One of them was growing out of its eye. Do you have any clue what might have caused that?”
He tapped his chin, intrigued. “Just from that description, nothing comes to mind. Can you bring me the skull so I can look at it?”
“No! Er, uh, my uncle has it.”
“Well, that’s not much to go on. My first thought would be tumors. Could you get me a photo?”
I turned to my dad. “I’m sure we can do that. We took several pictures of our finds in-situ. I’ll see what Mark has.”
After that, my parents left for home, and I headed to class. Oh, yippee skippee! I could take my finals. I tried to remember why I thought suspension seemed like such a bad thing.
When I arrived at the lunchroom for lunch, Gregg, Jim, Dave, and Jeff were sitting at our traditional table in the back.
Gregg spoke up first. “Hey Homie! They decided you weren’t the scourge of the school after all!”
“Yeah, I sure fooled them.”
Dave couldn’t wait to swallow the bologna sandwich in his mouth so he just talked around it. “Shame on you, picking on smaller guys like that.”
I grinned back, sat down, and pulled out my PBJ. “I promised I’d keep my temper from now on.”
Jim asked, “So what happened at the trial?”
“It was really weird. It seemed like no one really cared or wanted to be there. After I told my side, they basically all said ‘Yep, sounds about right. Go on, get out of here.’”
Gregg’s face opened up in shock. “Whoa! It sounds like they suddenly got a clue!”
Dave laughed, “Will the miracles never cease?”
Jeff pointed a finger in the direction of my chest. “What’s that?”
I looked down and saw that my stick was sitting outside of my shirt. “Oh, it’s a stick I found at the dig. I thought it was cool so I put it on a necklace.”
Jeff said, “Hm, well, it looks better on a necklace than that bear whistle.”
Dave took another bite of sandwich so he could smile and talk with his mouth full. “I don’t know. I kind of like Finn walking around with that bear dangling from a branch like a tree sloth.”
I scowled at Dave while I formulated a retort, but Jeff derailed it. “Dave was just telling us about the mound, but he’s not particularly articulate, so we need to get the details from you.”
“Hey!”
***
After all the recent excitement in my life, school continued to be school. It felt almost surreal to be sitting behind desks all day, listening to the same old boring lectures. Not even my Programming or AP Physics classes seemed interesting. Surely, that weekend had been my real life, and sitting behind a desk in a classroom was nothing but a long, dull dream.
The Warrior’s Apprentice
The Dryad's Kiss Page 16