You Found Me

by Joel Cobbs

  Now the movie was annoying me. I knew it, I just knew it. For some reason it wouldn't come to me. It had a very strange ending that made me wanna watch it. I like good endings, but this one was different. It had a sense of power to it, as if some feeling behind it had long since been lost over the years. I'd never heard of it before. Was it James Stewart? Yeah, that's it. At least, I think it is. After a while I just gave up due in part to the fact I was pulling into the parking lot where we were supposed to meet. I found a parking spot and texted Max to see if they were here.

  Max has been my friend for longer than I can remember. Seriously, I couldn't tell you when we met. We were something like two and have been friends ever since. He was another that was really smart. He texted me back and said they were in the food court. I got my stuff together and went inside.

  The air had thickened since I left home. Humidity here was unbelievable, and growing up here doesn't help any. One may believe that someone like me who has never left the South would be completely used to it. One should never believe anything unproven. Anyways, I saw them and headed that way. They were waving at me and yelling out my name. It was kind of embarrassing but made me smile at the same time.

  The trouble with pain is that you have to keep it all on the inside if you want to avoid any unnecessary attention, which is exactly what I wanted to do. You have to be careful to not let anyone know what you are feeling and how it is affecting you. I realize that sounds sort of obtuse and selfish, but I didn't want to bother anyone with what was going on. My life didn't need to interfere with theirs. Big John, Lisa, Michael and Max were all there.

  With all that in mind, I lied to each and every one of them. How're you doing? “Doing fine.” How've things been? “Making progress.” I answered all the questions given with a lie. I think I was doing fairly well at it because no one was trying to contradict me or read me as if I were a book with a lot of typos.

  “We were debating about eating or just walking through the mall,” Big John said. “What do you think?”

  “I don't care. Whatever works.” (My usual response). We then took turns going around in the group with everyone either not caring or using my response. We did this all the time. Not on purpose of course, it just ended up like that. We went two or three times before Lisa finally took charge and said she was hungry. Then we had to decide who was going to eat where. Thankfully, this was a lot easier than the previous decision. We all debated about who had the best food and some other meaningless crap before finally going our separate ways Michael stayed to guard our table so no one would take it.

  Even though the mall didn't have a lot of people there at the time, it was notorious for having tables magically disappear at random. You could claim a table and have a party of a thousand and the table would suddenly go to a couple who just wanted some space.

  Max and I went to one of those Cajun Grills. The name was kinda stupid though, considering the fact that it didn't seem like they served anything related to Cajun food. Seeing as I don't really know that much about Cajun food, I couldn't really say.

  They served a little bit of everything. They had some of the best friend okra, mashed potatoes, and macaroni and cheese on the face of the planet. Their chicken was pretty good too. They didn't include drinks or refills though. As evil as that may or may not have been, it didn't affect me that much since I always get sweet tea there, which come with free refills.

  “Gotta love this stuff.” Max would try to live off of this if he really wanted to.

  “It's pretty good.”

  “Oh. More of that, please,” he said to the lady behind the counter. He always wanted as much as he could squeeze out of them. Back in Dawson City at the old Dawson City Mall, Max knew everyone at the Cajun restaurant by first name and was given a little bit of leeway when it came to getting extra food. He gladly paid for it in other cities since he was so used to the large portions.

  “No, that's enough,” I said. I could see signs of resentment that seemed to say Look at your friend! He got extra and so can you!

  That didn't bother me. Lately I hadn't even been able to finish a sandwich, let alone a full meal.

  We finished, paid, and made our way back to the table. Big John had traded shifts with Michael and Lisa, who had both gone to different places. Lisa could barely digest anything due to this nasty digestive disease she'd been cursed with as well as being hypoglycemic. We all knew what to do in case something happened. She was at Subway getting some sort of vegetable sandwich. Michael was over a generic pizza place. He had this nasty addiction to pizza. He'd come to terms with it and now accepts who he is.

  After several minutes of food searching, we all sat down and starting eat. The conversation was slow at first, seeing as we were kinda eating.

  “Can you believe this election?” Big John said.

  “I know,” Lisa said from behind her hand. She had this really cute habit of covering her mouth as she talked when there was food in her mouth. Seeing as the rest of us are guys, she was the only one who did it. She was as close to a guy as you can get without crossing some serious boundaries. This was one of the things that kept her from crossing them. “I have no idea how far they're willing to go.”

  This election was the first one for me, Max, and both Big and Little John. We were excited and scared at the same time. Another wonderful thing about the south is its conservative nature. Two of my cousins are hardcore Republicans and constantly criticized anyone who dared contradict them. College students, I've noticed, are the exact opposite.

  I was a firm believer in voting. It was something you must do or else keep silent of how things were going. I hated hearing someone at work say “Oh I hate this and I hate that and why'd he have to do that” only to ask who they voted for and get “Oh I don't vote.” We had all agreed to vote in every election that we were going to be there for.

  “Man this chicken is good,” Max said.

  “Haha, politics not your thing?”

  “No, really John. This chicken is good.”

  “I bet they put some kinda drug in it just for you,” I said. “I have no doubt.”

  “Hey Max,” Michael said, “maybe that's why you are so addicted to it. May have a chance at a really good lawsuit there.” We all chuckled. One of the main things we loved to make fun of was the legal system and how people would sue someone just for stepping on their toes because it could lead to them having trouble walking which would cause them to lose their jobs because it got infected.

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “I could just ask for free meals for life as the settlement.”

  “Yeah, that's gonna happen,” Lisa said.

  “Looks like it's gonna be a good year for Alabama,” Big John said. “Don't ya think, Rob?” I rolled my eyes.

  “Oh yeah. Except for that one game.”

  “Oh don't bet on it this year,” Big John said. “Auburn ain't about to win another. I'm sure Saban is going to make sure they stay where they belong.”

  “On top?”

  “That's what she said,” Max chipped in and we all laughed.

  Our group was different than a lot of the ones at UAH. Most of them were people in the same classes, some Greek societies, sports, organizations, etc. Our group had only two things in common. Each other and Rosetta Falls. If it wasn't for that, we probably wouldn't hang out. We'd each eat alone every day and that would be that. Thankfully we were friends and managed to avoid all that.

  We finished and threw all our junk away and walked around the mall. There wasn't much to this mall for it to have two floors. There was the food court, a Starbucks, a KB Toys, a Dillard's and a bunch of independently owned stores that offered terrible service and were there because they had been since the building was built. We walked one side, then the other, and did the same on the first floor. There was a Disney store that was going out of business. No one really shops at that mall anymore expect for women looking to buy some new shoes or clothes. If it wasn't for their four stores, the place would b
e gone.

  Boredom came to me quickly, so I told them I was leaving and made my way back to the truck. I was tired and wanted to go home. The pain that was my mother wasn't going to be there anymore now had me down and I needed something to take my mind off of it. I plugged my iPod in and scrolled for a song.

  Superman (It's not easy), Five For Fighting.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The paper they were holding was not one that made them happy. Rob sat there, awaiting his punishment. The paper was a note from school, saying he had failed two test, forgotten two homework assignments, and a small conference with the parents was needed. There was “nothing” to worry about, which was as much of a lie as could be possibly said. Rob's life was at stake at the moment. His Dad paced back and forth; his mother was just leaning against her dresser. Rob, all of fourteen, was sitting on their bed.

  “Rob, this is unacceptable,” his Dad said. “You can't be making these kinds of grades. You can't just skip through class and expect life to just fall into your hands as if you deserve it. You have to work--” Mom interrupted.

  “And I'll be dang if I'm gonna let you make these kinds of grades. Robert you are smarter than this. Why didn't you pay attention or ask for help or whatever could help keep you from failing?” Rob just sat there. “Answer me!”

  “I don't know.”

  “You can't cop out of this one, Robert. You'd better start making some good excuses whether they're true or not.” Dad turned to him.

  “Rob, excuses or not, we need to know what's going on. Since this is just in math we know where you're struggling but why didn't you come to us?”

  “I don't know. I didn't realize I was struggling this bad.” His Mom nearly flew at him.

  “What do you mean you didn't realize it?! Robert you were failing?”

  “I know, Mom. I'm sorry.”

  “Robert. Sorry doesn't cut it. We're going to go and talk with the principle or teacher or whoever and find out what you're doing in class instead of paying attention.”

  “Until then, Rob, you're grounded from all electronics and hanging out with friends.”

  “What about Max's party this weekend?”

  “Don't bet on going,” his Mom said.

  “Okay,” Rob sighed, trying his best to brush it off. It wasn't working.

  ------

  The meeting was the next day. It was urgent, the counselor said, and needed to be taken care of as soon as possible. Rob sat with his parents and waited. The clock was ticking, making time feel longer than it actually was. They were sitting in the office (tick, tock, tick, tock) the secretary typing away at her computer and not paying them the slightest attention (tick, tock, tick, tock). The counselor's door was shut, leading Rob to believe he was either next in line or was simply being tortured in agony. His punishment had only just begun. He was already grounded from all but one thing he enjoyed, which was books. Thankfully they'd taken mercy on him and allowed at least that. (Tick, tock, tick, tock) The door opened.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Thompson?”

  “Yes,” Mom answered.

  “Please, come right in.” It was one of those phrases with double meanings. It came out as a request, not pushing anything on the parents, simply a question. Underneath the pleasantry, it was really a battle call, the forces ready to answer and take care of business. There was a traitor among the soldiers and it was time to see that his punishment was issued as well as just, two things Rob never thought were possible in the same sentence. Rob's parents answered the call to war.

  “It seems to me things aren't going so well for Robert. I wanted to meet with the two of you and discuss what exactly it is that is going on with him, whether it's boredom, ADD, or simply lack of initiative on his part. Any of them are possible and I'm not going to rule anything out.”

  “We just want to know what's going on too,” his Dad said, holding Mom's hand. “That's all we really care about right now. We want him to do better and we know he's capable of more.”

  “And I completely understand your concern. Believe me, I want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do. I feel that if we work together we can solve this and help get Robert back on the right track.” Rob sort of looked up at the mention of his name, though he wasn't really paying attention. He was more concerned with what was going to happen to him rather than what was going to lead up to it.

  “Rob,” the counselor said, “would you mind stepping outside for a few minutes while I talk with your parents?” The counselor had a thing for double meanings. This wasn't a request and he knew it. No matter what he said, he'd have to leave.

  “Would you mind” was also becoming an interesting phrase, Rob noticed. You could just about respond in any manner and it could be accepted. The number one response he got most often was “Yeah, sure, no problem.” Technically, this was saying that you do mind, which meant you didn't want to do whatever it was they were asking. “No, not at all” was the other response he got. This was the correct one, but he rarely heard it. He found himself often wondering with these thoughts.

  He smiled and calmly left, sitting on the bench outside the office. (Tick, tock, tick, tock.) His thoughts wandered to different places. The lobby was tastelessly decorated. There was obviously no theme going. Just random things put here and there--

  Rob shook his head. He had no idea why he was thinking about what the room looked like. He didn't care. He wanted to know if he was about to have his hide torn to pieces. They were in there walking about something that he only had a generic idea of. He wanted so desperately to know what was going on in that room. It was hard to swallow, a massive lump forming in his throat. He felt like his entire life was hanging by a thread with three people each comparing their scissors and the best way to cut it. He wanted it to be short and sweet, though life rarely gives you what you want. The door opened and he saw their faces. Things didn't look very promising for him.

  “You can come back in, Robert.” He swallowed passed the lump. He entered the room to see what it was they were going to do. “We've spent a lot of time thinking about this, Robert. We've decided on several things that will be done. All these things were suggested by me, then discussed with your parents.” Rob couldn't tell if he was trying to shift the blame away from himself or just help make the transition a little easier for Rob. Neither really worked in his mind.

  “Robert, you are going to have detention for the rest of the semester, possibly the year depending on your grades. However, your detention will be different than the others. During that time you will meet with a private tutor and go over everything and help get you caught up on the things you may and may not understand.”

  Rob had no idea how to take this. It sort of sounded like a good idea. He'd only been to detention once before, so he had an idea of what it was he'd be missing out on. He knew writing sentences was something he could live without, and maybe the tutor would be helpful.

  “This will help you with your grades and with any other problems you may face in the future, okay?” All Rob could do was nod. “Okay. Your parents will handle everything else. We'll have weekly updates with you and your tutor and monthly updates with your parents. I hope this works, Robert. Your grades and education are the two most important things you have right now.” Rob just nodded again. He still wasn't sure if he was thrilled or devastated. Either was possible.

  After all that, he and his parents left.

  ------

  The ride home felt much longer than the ride to school. There was an uneasy tension in the air, one much worse than earlier. Everything wanted to be said, yet nothing at all at the same time. No one wanted to be first.

  Rob's thoughts drifted to what his tutor was going to be like. He wasn't really looking forward to it, but it was better than a lot of the alternatives, which he was happy to skip.

  Would it be a man or woman? Would it be a student or another teacher? Would it even be a teacher? Maybe it would be someone hired that doesn't go to the school, as to avoid any e
mbarrassment. Rob thought that over and knew that wasn't going to happen. Unless it involved their football team, Lewis County High School didn't care about embarrassment. If you did something, everyone knew what it was and that you did it. The joys of small town life. They pulled into the driveway and Rob unbuckled his seat belt.

  “Go to your room, Robert, and we'll be there shortly.” His mother always had this way of wording things that sent chills down his spine. He knew what was coming, it wouldn't take a genius to figure that out.

  He went to his room and sat on his bed, thinking. Why was all this happening? He hadn't really done anything wrong. Just because he was bad at math didn't mean he had to be treated like a criminal. He was just as human as the next person. Max was terrible at history, was barely passing with Rob's help, and no one was jumping down his throat trying to make him do things that were either absurd or just stupid in general. Both Rob and Max had things they weren't that good at, but only Rob was taking the punishment.

  Rob suddenly felt like he'd been treated unfairly. He was going to tell his parents what he felt and why he felt that way. They couldn't just pick on him when there were others having just as much trouble as he was. He wanted justice, that's what he wanted. He was ready to face them and tell them this.

  The door creaked open and his father entered. In his hands, he had his belt. Rob's parents were not the violent type, but knew when punishment was necessary. Rob felt all the courage he'd had in his hand moments ago vanish. He tried to swallow passed the lump again, finding it just as impossible as before. Tears were starting to form but he fought them back. His Dad closed the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I was ready for the trip. I'd packed everything I needed. I wasn't really sure how this was going to go. Dad and I had never taken a trip like this before, especially after something as traumatic as what just happened. I stopped. It hadn't “just happened” anymore. It happened months ago.