by Jack Dey
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Chapter 22
Jaimon cowered at his desk, midway up the aisle of the fourth row of seats in his science class. He felt like a fugitive just before being discovered and arrested, sealing his fate into a sordid round of retribution at the hands of his tormentors. It was one thing being the victim of mass condemnation, condoned and ratified by the silent authorities, but it was a totally different set of rules if you dared to strike back. He slouched down low in his seat, trying desperately not to be noticed but even that response was drawing some teasing stares from his classmates. He didn’t care. He was hunted through the halls of forced institutionalisation and his only response now had to be survival.
And survival meant being invisible.
Miss Jenkins was busy explaining some theory or other, her face alight with passion for her subject and as a result, white spittle gathered in the corner of her mouth. Jaimon just couldn’t concentrate on her impassioned monologue and looked around constantly, sweeping the scene for any impending threat and gauging the accessibility of the escape route.
He peered around the room full of thirteen year old students and his eyes rested on the empty seat of Jim Dowden. A knot tightened in his stomach and threatened to strangle his internal organs while a cloud of nervousness and panic stalked his every heartbeat, wondering why Dowden wasn’t in class.
It hadn’t even been an hour since Salena had grabbed his towel, twisted it into a tight whip and nailed the change room bully with vicious accuracy. The memory of the sickening sound and the immediate effect it had on Dowden as he hit the change room floor, screaming in pain, was still fresh in Jaimon’s mind. Even though Dowden got what was intended for Jaimon, Jaimon still felt sorry for him and now the anticipation of impending reprisals was worse than the injury itself. His lips twisted into a passing smile and his thoughts momentarily drifted to Salena and her courage to take on the bully. He wouldn’t have had the nerve to enter the girls’ change room, albeit in a disguise, let alone settle a very lopsided score on behalf of a friend.
“Sit up please, Jaimon! If you need to sleep, please do it at home!”
A chorus of laughter broke out and all eyes turned to face him, shocking him back into the scene. His knees hit the underneath of the desk and made it bounce, spilling his books onto the floor in an attempt to obey the authoritarian figure represented at the head of the class. Further laughter erupted as he fought to regain his balance, arms and torso dancing like a demented clown, leaning out from his chair to retrieve his books from the floor.
“Settle down, people! There will be a test on this next week, so you had better listen carefully.”
A collective groan rippled through the building while Miss Jenkins recommenced at the point of digression.
Jaimon’s mind began to close out the tedious lecture and the voice droning on became a distant, subdued mumble. His thoughts once again turned to his desperate situation. The student gossip-grapevine obviously hadn’t caught up on the incident in the change room but he figured once they did, he... and Salena would be picked on mercilessly. He began to fume and wished Salena hadn’t interfered; at least if he had been injured instead of Dowden, then the rest of the school population wouldn’t want to settle a score on behalf of one of their own.
A loud knock at the classroom door interrupted the lecture. Jaimon jumped, his heart pounding as he followed the gaze of his classmates and turned to face the principal, with Jim Dowden standing solemn and dark faced beside him. The class listened silently as a whispered conversation took place between Miss Jenkins and the principal. Once the instructions had been conveyed, Principal Bern nodded to Dowden and he limped painfully to the front of the room, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor and awkwardly took his seat. The stunned eyes of the class followed the injured Dowden’s amble to his place at the front of a row. A murmur trickled across shocked lips, while a close by student began to quiz Dowden on his injury and ask the questions that the rest of the students were curious for an answer.
Once Miss Jenkins finished her conversation with the principal, she made her way back to the head of the room. “That’s enough, class. You can ask Mr Dowden about his war injuries during recess,” she reprimanded and then continued on with the lesson.
Jaimon’s heart was pounding in his chest and he couldn’t make sense of the situation. It was almost as if Principal Bern didn’t know the facts of the incident and Dowden had kept the cause of the injury quiet.
The Nazi war siren broke into the interrupted lecture, announcing the end of class. Among a growing frenzy of students preparing to leave the science class, Jaimon threw his books into his bag and nearly knocked over the desk trying to make for the door before he was trapped.
Miss Jenkins had to raise her voice to be heard over the clatter and agitated movements of teenagers packing away their books and preparing to disembark her class. She reminded them of the upcoming test while her eyes focused on Jaimon’s disappearing figure, already out of her class and running down the corridor.
A gathering of students formed around Dowden until Miss Jenkins ushered them out of her emptying room. There was just ten minutes until her next group of students arrived and if she was quick, she could grab a much needed coffee to lubricate her voice before another hour of teaching began.
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By the time the lunch recess siren sounded, Jaimon’s imagination was about to boil over. He couldn’t understand why the grapevine hadn’t condemned him, and the student body seemed uninformed or at least, unconcerned at Jim Dowden’s plight. Each class he attended, his peers seemed normally aloof towards him and treated him with their usual disdain. Nothing like he had expected.
He paced around the area bordered by the manual arts block to try and gain much needed perspective. He wasn’t supposed to be in the off limits to students area, but it was the only place he could be alone. Jaimon strode towards one end of the yard, turning around abruptly just before a set of windows where he knew teachers were bound to be patrolling from within the manual arts building. As he turned, his gaze fell upon a tiny figure casually leaning her back against the brick wall with one leg bent at the knee, her small shoe flat against the wall behind her and an impish grin forming on her lips.
“Hey, Bob!”
“Salena! Boy am I glad to see you!”
“Thanks, Bob, but you really aren’t my type. I like big-round-chubby boys,” Salena jollied him, a crooked smile spreading across her face and she almost laughed at her own absurdity.
“Huh?!” Jaimon seemed distracted and confused at her attempt at humour.
“You look like the posse is about to lynch you and hang you by the neck!” Salena quipped and then her face broke into a beaming smile. “Did you like the way ol’ Dowden went down? I thought it was a pretty cool shot myself.”
Salena coughed and tried to stifle another laugh at Jaimon’s unappreciative response, but she was obviously proud of her achievement.
“That’s just it, Salena. I have been expecting Dowden and his gang of thugs to come after me–us–to make us pay for what we did!” Jaimon was stressing and the worried babbling was stealing her joy.
“Whoa, dude! Calm down! No one is coming after you–or me–for that matter.”
“What?! You sure don’t know these people, Salena. They will pick on the weak and the unprotected mercilessly, and if you dare stand up to them they will make your life unbearable!” Jaimon almost screamed at her.
“Haven’t you heard the old saying: treat ‘em mean keep ‘em keen?”
Jaimon’s eyes were boring into Salena, wondering how she could make light of such a desperate situation. “What...?!”
Salena sighed heavily. “Seriously, dude, you are one messed up puppy. People that have to use fear and intimidation to dominate others are called bullies... right?”
Jaimon nodded in agreement.
“Well...! Ninety percent of the time if you call their bluff and stand up to them they will b
ack down, and if you use the same weapon on them that they were using on you, they lose face with the people they are trying to impress and become embarrassed... got it so far? Then they try to hide the fact they were stood up to and defeated. My guess is that Dowden was embarrassed by our unexpected retaliation and is attempting to hide the details of being beaten at his own game and he is trying to prevent being embarrassed among his mates. I doubt he will try it on again and if he does, we will take him down again!”
A mischievous smile painted itself on Salena’s face then a determined, faraway gaze crossed her cloudy eyes, staring past Jaimon, engaged in a new round of strategy.
“What about the other ten percent of times you call their bluff and they don’t back down?” Jaimon worried.
Salena’s face contorted and her eyes focused on Jaimon again, perplexed by his lack of faith. “Well, dude, that’s when you make like a tree and leave–and fast... get it? You seem to have that bit down pat!” The crooked smile became all teeth as she laughed at her own gag.
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Chapter 23
Jaimon had a personal study period to finish the afternoon and most of his peers had found large tables in the library foyer to huddle together in a community of camaraderie. As he passed by, it was obvious from the don’t-even-think-about-joining-us stares, even if there was an unoccupied place, there wasn’t any room at their table for him. He quickly walked past his classmates and found a lone, vacant cubicle by a window looking out over a passageway joining the maths and science blocks.
Whenever his classes coincided with Salena’s, they would sit together and he didn’t feel like such a freak. He wondered why she had befriended him, and then her unattractive features flashed across his mind. He smiled and began to understand. She, like him, lacked the charm and the good looking attributes of the popular kids that attracted the masses, while their awkwardness and difference sentenced them to life on the outer fringes.
An unwelcome notion crept into his mind and he shuddered at the thought of kissing Salena, then he realised why they were such good friends. Salena was definitely not the subject of a teenage boy’s fantasy, but what she lacked in looks she made up for in sheer spunk and humour. He still couldn’t believe what she had done earlier that morning to Jim Dowden, the sheer guts it took to face one of his bullies. He was amazed at her lack of fear about the distinct possibility she would be targeted too as a consequence of her actions, standing up to Dowden on Jaimon’s behalf.
It seemed like she really didn’t care about her own safety.
Sudden movement outside in the passageway between the maths and science block caught his attention through the library window and he glared at the gathering. A wave of fear stabbed at his stomach as he watched Dowden limp up to Rositer, his animated actions leaving no doubt Dowden was explaining Salena’s expertise with the towel in the change rooms. The older boy began to humiliate Dowden in front of his following, kicking him in the spot the towel had done its deadly work, making him wince and causing Dowden to turn sideways, deflecting Rositer’s attack and protecting himself from further injury.
Jaimon’s concern began to peak as he watched Rositer place his arm over Dowden’s shoulder and draw him into his group, huddled, obviously devising a plan. He knew his day was about to get a lot worse, and the sandy hill overlooking the school property blocking his safe access home would surely be the scene of retribution.
He had to find Salena and warn her... fast!
Jaimon watched the clock on the wall above the librarian’s head with dreaded concentration, willing the time to pass.
Finally the siren wailed and Jaimon shot out of the library, almost knocking over the table in his haste and burying the exit door handle into the red brick wall, with a loud clang. He grabbed at his school bag from its resting place deep within the ordered confines of the bag racks with a well aimed swipe, the sudden weight of the bag threatening to uproot his hasty steps and flatten him face up on the concrete. Borne out of sheer adrenaline, the bag found its place against Jaimon’s shoulders with a slap, assisting his escape with the forward momentum of a freight train running on rocket fuel, while his feet struggled to stay under him.
Students were spilling onto the passageways from every occupied classroom, causing human bottlenecks and slowing down his run into a hasty walk, threatening to stall his escape while he shoved his way through the belligerent crowd. Soon Jaimon disappeared into a massive wall of moving humanity, wondering how he would find Salena in the sea of faces before she unwittingly stumbled into Rositer’s trap. He craned his neck, searching over taller students, jumping on the spot to gain a vantage point and maybe catch a glimpse of the fire red hair among the crowd of blondes and brunettes dawdling towards the school exits in a force of chaotic teenage posturing. He figured his actions were futile; Salena was smaller and shorter than he was, but he wouldn’t give up.
She had stood by him in his morbid challenges and he was determined to do the same for her.
Jaimon reached a pathway that divided the school buildings. The pathway led to a set of steps that descended down onto a long driveway and eventually exited the school grounds a good five hundred metres away. From his vantage point atop the stairs, he stopped and peered out over the vast school property while scanning the mass of teenagers, moving in a battalion-like march away from the battles of the day and towards the relative safety and freedom of their homes.
In the distance, he could see the grey sandy hill and the regimented march of students topping the hill like a group of soldier ants, ignorant to the fact of an impending one-sided slaughter about to take place there. But still he couldn’t see the flames of the small redheaded girl. Groups of straggler students were still exiting the school premises and bumping into Jaimon’s stationary figure, partially blocking the pathway at the top of the steps.
“Hey, Bob... what ya looking for?”
“Salena...!” Jaimon yelled, causing nearby straggler students to stare at him, deliberately bumping him as they threaded past.
“We really have to stop meeting like this otherwise people are going to talk,” the crooked grin was back on her face.
“This is no time for joking, Salena,” Jaimon’s worried face and wild eyes suddenly disturbed her and she sighed.
“Okay! What catastrophe is looming now?” Her cloudy eyes searched his, but she had already guessed it had something to do with Dowden.
“Dowden and Rositer are waiting for both of us to walk up the sandhill at the edge of the school and then they are going to settle the score,” Jaimon was in full-on babble mode.
“Calm down, Bob. How do you know we are about to be lynched?”
Salena dropped her bag from her shoulders, making an audible sput noise as the bag’s tiny plastic feet made forced contact with the concrete.
“I saw Dowden and Rositer talking during the last period and Dowden was making mimed reference to your towel whip, then Rositer drew him into his group of thugs and they were scheming together. I feel responsible for getting you involved in my problems.”
Jaimon’s sudden revelation took Salena by surprise and she stared at him for long seconds.
“Gee tar, Bob. But I already told you I like big-round-chubby boys.” The smile broke out in full across Salena’s face and she giggled, obviously enamoured by his sudden protective announcement. She could see Jaimon was about to launch into another nervous barrage of doomsday predictions so she started to cut him off.
At that moment, two senior boys bumped Jaimon as they passed by, interrupting Salena’s speech.
Directing his verbal poison at Jaimon, one boy exclaimed, “FREAK...!”
Jaimon stared back at the boys, stumbling out of the way to let them pass, wondering whether they knew of the proposed attack about to take place.
Salena didn’t seem perturbed by the senior boy’s torment and refocused on a forming idea. “It’s simple, Bob. We take another route home and then devise a surprise counter attack of our
own.”
Salena’s face was aglow with a battle plan.
If Dowden got what was coming to him, how is Salena going to beat Rositer and his gang of thugs at their own game?
Salena swiftly led Jaimon down the driveway and instead of turning right, up to the grey sandy hill at the end of the driveway, she followed the road to the left for a way and then turned off into thick bush via a small bush track not easily visible from the road until they came into a small clearing. Pointing to a fallen tree, she motioned for him to sit onto its trunk.
“Wow!” Jaimon exclaimed. “I had no idea this was here.”
“Yeah, it’s where I come and think when I have a pressing matter,” Salena offered.
She bent down just to the side of him and searched around under the fallen tree. Finding what she was looking for, she produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Taking a cigarette, she placed it in her mouth and then lit the other end, dragging in a lungful of pungent smoke and then exhaled it into the air surrounding Jaimon, handing him the cigarette.
“I..I don’t smoke, Salena,” Jaimon babbled, shocked at her casual expertise with the small, smoking, pencil-like apparatus.
“Look, Jaimon! If we are going to defeat these guys and get them off our backs, you are going to have to trust me and do exactly as I tell you... capisce?!” Salena seemed stern and commanding, thrusting the cigarette at Jaimon once again.
Jaimon took the cigarette from her hand. Her small presence seemed to fill the area and he felt like he couldn’t refuse. He lifted the cigarette to his mouth and took a small drag and then began coughing hard, choking on the vile, blue smoke.
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Chapter 24
Two intensely tired ash-grey eyes peered slowly around the room, confused and distracted by the unfamiliar surrounds. A machine was beeping in time with the increasing ache in her head, giving an audible account of her rising fear. From her position confined in a hospital bed, she twisted her neck to face a glass window in the wall of her room and could see people outside in white uniforms moving about in a frenzied chaos of busyness.