THE SCHOOL CAFETERIA WAS PACKED AS USUAL DURING breakfast the next day. All the cliques and sub-cliques had their own de facto designated tables in the center of the room. The nobodies like Howie and I usually occupied the outer tables. A few years ago, our school officials attempted to integrate the tables but the staff got tired of breaking up the countless fights that resulted, so the unspoken seating arrangements were allowed to resume. I didn’t really care, to be honest. I actually enjoyed our little corner of the universe at breakfast and lunch.
“I guess Jason is skipping school again today,” Howie said as he adjusted his glasses and took a bite of his sausage biscuit.
“It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s hanging out at 3D,” I replied. Howie smiled, no doubt amused that I used his nickname for the Third Dimension.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m thinking about going there as well after school. What about you? Do you have any plans?” Howie asked as I scanned the room for Fat Pat and his minions.
“Adam?” Howie asked after I failed to respond.
“Sorry, Howie. I was looking out for Fat Pat. With Jason not around, I am sure he’ll want to exact his revenge for yesterday.”
Howie’s eyes widened with fear as he wondered if he, too, would suffer the same fate as me if Fat Pat were to catch up to us.
“You’re right. We should probably head to class,” Howie suggested, trying hard to mask his fear.
I looked at my plate and bit my bottom lip as I considered leaving without finishing my breakfast. I was so worried about Round Two with Fat Pat that I had not touched my food. That was one of the only two opportunities to eat that I would have that day, so I knew I couldn’t afford to skip it.
“Let me finish my food, then we can go,” I said as I quickly stuffed a spoonful of oatmeal into my mouth. Howie nodded and continued to nervously look around the room as I dug into the rest of my lumpy oatmeal. It tasted terrible but I was so famished that I could have eaten a ten-gallon drum of it at the time.
I almost choked as I noticed Fat Pat and his goons enter the south entrance of the cafeteria. I instantly pulled the table cloth up and ducked underneath the table before Pat could notice me. I tugged on Howie’s pants leg but he remained completely stiff.
“Howie, we have to get out of here!” I whispered as I tugged his pants leg again. Howie said nothing.
“Howie?” I repeated.
“They’ve already seen me, Adam. I don’t want to give you away. Just get the heck out of here,” Howie mumbled under his breath.
I turned and started to crawl away when I heard a loud smack. “Aw!” Howie cried. Fat Pat must have slapped Howie in the back of his head. I knew this because I was all too familiar with Fat Pat’s usual choice of greeting.
How can I run away and leave Howie behind to be tormented? I thought as I paused to contemplate my next move.
“Where is he?” Fat Pat growled.
“I don’t kno-”
Smack! — Howie’s words where cut off by another slap from Pat.
“I don’t have time for your games, dork! Where is he?!”
Suddenly, Howie was violently lifted from his chair as I remained underneath the table, still searching for the courage to stand up for him.
Why can’t I save Howie like Jason saved me? I thought, feeling pathetic for having to rely on Jason for everything.
I peeked from under the tablecloth when I heard a loud noise suddenly ring out. My heart sank as I witnessed Howie’s face slam to the ground. The pain in his eyes intensified as Fat Pat sat his 340-pound body on Howie’s head and shattered the lenses of his glasses. I clenched my jaw and gritted my teeth as I watched blood trickle from Howie’s nose and drip onto the floor.
That’s when it happened. Something inside of me just snapped and a burning anger suddenly emerged from within me. I knew I could possibly suffer a fate far worse than Howie’s by revealing myself, but I couldn’t continue to allow my best friend to endure such torment.
A tidal wave of adrenaline suddenly rushed through my veins. As the rage within me smoldered, for the first time in my life, I decided to fight back. I had never felt a rush of that magnitude before, but I instantly knew that I liked it. The adrenaline seemed to fuel my rage as well as my body. Suddenly, I didn't feel so feeble and weak. Suddenly, I felt powerful.
I burst from beneath the table, flipping it on its side as I revealed myself. The nearby students scurried away as the table and the breakfast trays that once sat upon it crashed to the floor. Fat Pat and his two goons grew tense with fear for a moment until they realized that it was I who had emerged from beneath the table.
“What do we have here?” Fat Pat snarled as he stood and approached me. Within seconds, he and I stood nose to nose as the crowd of students clamored with anticipation. There were no teachers present to break us up, as most of them were off smoking or doing whatever it is that public school teachers that don’t give a crap do before class.
Pat smirked as he grabbed and twisted the collar of my shirt. “Hiding under the table as your dork friend gets the beat-down— I didn’t think it was possible to be that big of a wimp.”
My adrenaline rush increased as my anger intensified. All that I could see was my fist and Fat Pat’s face, and all that I could think about was how badly I wanted to punch through it.
It was Fat Pat who threw the first punch. The incoming right jab seemed to creep through the air in slow motion as if he was submerged in water when he threw it.
Catch it! My brain screamed at my hand, but I was frozen with shock. An incoming blow was heading toward my face, and I was too shocked to do anything about it because, for the first time in my life, I felt that I could actually do something about it.
Catch it! My brain fired the impulse at my right hand again as Fat Pat’s massive fist neared its target. Finally, my hand snapped into action and grabbed Fat Pat’s fist, stopping it mere centimeters away from my face.
The crowd stood frozen in silent awe as I stood with Fat Pat’s failed punch within my grasp. I too was frozen with the disbelief of having successfully defended myself for the first time in my life. The feeling of triumph that followed was interrupted as one of Fat Pat's goons cracked me over the head with a breakfast tray.
I released Fat Pat’s hand and fell to the floor as he and his minions attacked me in unison. As always, the kicks and punches did not hurt, but this time, to my amazement, nothing hurt. Not the laughter from the crowd. Not the insults from Pat and his gang. Not even the fact that I was being beaten. As the “beat-down” continued, I shielded my face with my arms and smiled.
“Break it up!” yelled Dr. Kathleen “Kate” Stripling, our new high school principal. Fat Pat’s friends scampered away as she forced her way through the crowd. Pat ignored her command and continued to punch me as she approached. Dr. Kate finally grabbed Fat Pat’s shoulder and yanked him away from me.
“Ms. Kate, you can’t put your hands-”
“Shut your mouth this instant, Patrick, before I have you expelled!” Dr. Kate snarled. Fat Pat instantly fell silent. Dr. Kate helped me to my feet and glared at us both.
“I want you both to report to my office, immediately,” she ordered.
Fat Pat sulked. “But Ms. Kate-”
“That’s Dr. Kate, Patrick, and this is not a negotiation!” she snapped. Fat Pat hung his head and finally trudged away, headed toward her office.
I was barely able to stand by the time I made it to the office. My adrenaline high was long gone and the only thing left was an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion and the dread that I felt as I contemplated the punishment that was sure to befall me once my mother found out that I had been sent to the principal’s office. I tried to force myself to be happy about the fact that I was able to somewhat defend myself for the first time in my life, but as I sat there waiting for Dr. Kate to call me in for sentencing, I couldn’t help but focus on the two troublesome questions that were racing through my mind:
How was
I able to do what I had just done— and most of all, why did I suddenly feel so exhausted?
6. GOOD COP/BAD COP
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