by Tom Twitchel
“That ass! Good that he’s getting expelled! Who says that kind of stuff?” Her eyes sparkled while she waved her arms around punctuating what she was saying.
“Yeah. Well…I learned a lesson. I can’t let bullies get under my skin. I reacted just like he would and now Mr. Goodturn is going to have to pretend that he’s my grandfather and meet with the vice-principal.”
She wrinkled her little nose. “That doesn’t seem fair. But I guess your vice-principal has to do what he has to do.”
“At least I’ll be out of class and out of circulation for a week. So, why did you come over tonight exactly?” I asked, wanting to change the subject.
Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she sighed. “Anything else going on at your school?”
Back to that? “No, what are you talking about?”
“Like Morp?” she said, a little sharply.
Oh, that. “Yeah, everyone is all over that. I’m not going. At least I wasn’t planning on going but now I couldn’t go even if I wanted to because of the suspension.”
“So, you aren’t going? What about Justine? Hasn’t she asked you?” Her mouth was drawn into a thin line.
Now we were getting to it, I thought. “She’s going with someone else.”
Her tight-lipped pose softened a little. “And she didn’t ask you?”
Blowing out a long breath, I said, “Yeah, she did. I said ‘No.’ I don’t want to go. So now she’s pissed. Satisfied?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped.
This whole conversation was dumb. “It means that I turned her down. I’m not going and I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it. Are you going to your Morp?”
“Maybe. There is someone I’m thinking of asking,” she said.
That didn’t make me happy. The only two girls I knew well were busy telling me they were going to a dance with somebody else.
“Umm. Does he know?” I mumbled. Who was this mystery boy? I couldn’t figure out which would bother me more: knowing or not knowing.
“He should,” she said. “But he’s a little clueless.”
“Maybe he’s too stupid to figure it out.” I was being a jerk, but I wasn’t happy with the way the conversation was tracking. Antagonizing her wasn’t going to fix anything but my mouth was on auto again.
Lifting her lip in a half-smile she said, “Yeah, maybe.”
“Sounds like a real winner,” I grumbled.
Maddy narrowed her eyes a little and cocked her head to one side. Her shorter haircut didn’t fall over her eyes as much. I could see both green slits really well.
“So, what are you doing this weekend then?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve got a ton of homework. I don’t understand why teachers load it on when they know it’s a weekend before a big dance. I’ll probably work one of the parks on Saturday morning,” I said, suddenly depressed. She probably wouldn’t be able to go with me if she was going to be busy getting ready for a dance.
Shrugging her shoulders Maddy slid off the stool. “If you go to a park make sure you take Breno with you. Well, I guess I’d better head home.”
“What? Why? That’s all you came here for? To ask me if I was going to Morp? Why don’t you hang out for a while?”
“No.” she shook her head. “You’re being a poop. I’ll see you later.”
“Let me walk you out then,” I said. A poop? Really?
“Whatevs.”
I grabbed my jacket and we made our way downstairs. As we passed the third floor, I looked back and saw most of the boxes had been taken away and the door to Miss Lapham’s apartment stood open.
Maddy noticed where I was looking. “Is that where she lived? The beezy you messed with?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I don’t think anyone’s going to throw her a going away party.”
When we got to the lobby, I could see the van outside getting closed up. My soon-to-be-gone neighbor was nowhere to be seen.
We got to the bus stop pretty fast and zipped our jackets trying to stay warm while we waited for her bus to arrive.
“Sorry. I was being a…” I started.
“Poop?” asked Maddy with a smile.
“Yeah. That.”
“I forgive you. I was kind of cranky too.”
“Are we good, Maddy?” That was me being insecure, but I couldn’t help myself.
Turning to face me, she put her hands on her hips and smiled as the bus rolled up to the stop.
“We’ll always be good. Someday, you’ll figure that out you nutball.”
That made me feel a little better. “Cool. Well, I hope you…this guy…so call me if you don’t go….”
Shaking her head, she gave me a quick hug. People were getting off the bus behind her.
“Yeah, well, I feel a little conflicted about the dance,” she turned to climb up the steps into the bus. She looked back at me over her shoulder. “He’s really kind of an idiot.”
The door hissed shut and she winked at me as the bus started to pull away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The next day it was overcast and drizzly and I would have rather just stayed under the covers but forced myself to brave the cold floors and head for the bathroom to take a shower. When I walked back into the bedroom, I could hear the wind kicking up pretty good, which meant a chilly and wet walk to the bus stop. I slammed through breakfast and took off for school.
Friday was my first day of in-school suspension and was an entirely new experience, not in a good way. Reporting in at the office came first, which was uncomfortable. Then I was sent to one of the study cubicles in the library to be supervised by the librarian. There were days when school seemed to drag, but none of them compared to in-school suspension. I guess that’s the point, right?
By the end of the day, including the extra time tacked on for detention, I had all of my homework done. No texts from Justine and I didn’t send her any either. What would I say? As I left the building, the halls were still full of students, band members preparing for the big game, faculty and parents coordinating concessions and working on various tasks associated with the weekly football game and the dance. There was an urgency to all of their movement that I didn’t feel. I just wanted to get out and get home. I didn’t see anyone I knew except for Russell Chu, who waved weakly at me as he walked in the other direction. Yeah, that didn’t feel strange at all—only very.
Rain spattered the windows of the bus as I rode home. The wind was whipping the clothing of people hustling along the sidewalk, but the heater in the bus was working fine, even if the smell of diesel fumes found their way in. As the bus shuddered to a halt at my stop, it really started coming down hard. I ran as fast as I thought safe but by the time I got inside my building, I was thoroughly soaked. The puddle I left behind at the front door and the wet footprints that followed behind me brought Breno’s face to mind and I felt a little guilty as I climbed the stairs.
Maddy texted me that she wasn’t going to the dance, but couldn’t get away for the weekend, which while disappointing in one obvious way, lifted my spirits a little in a completely different way. As I passed the third floor, I noticed that the door had been closed to Miss Lapham’s old apartment and the few remaining boxes had disappeared as well.
When I opened the door to my apartment, I sighed and dropped my damp hoodie on a barstool.
I was not pining away about the dance and Maddy’s decision not to ask whomever it was made me feel less messed up, so I had little difficulty in relaxing and watching TV. After dinner, I decided to practice my knacks. The metal playing cards were not much more than a nuisance when flinging them at an assailant. The tweaker I’d stuck a couple into hadn’t been seriously discouraged from attacking me. So I’d bought a bunch of marbles and several tubes of BBs. The question was where could I practice where it would create the least damage in the apartment?
I dragged a big piece of poster board out from behind my desk in my bedroom and set it against th
e wall in the living room.
Experimenting with the BBs, I found that I had no trouble controlling a dozen of them at once and speeding them along fast enough into the poster board that they would bury themselves in it. The marbles were more impressive because they were bigger. The fact that they were heavier and the spherical glass surface was so smooth made them trickier to influence. I’d put in a lot of practice with them over the last few weeks and I had gotten the hang of it. They left huge dents in the poster board. One actually went through it.
Around ten o’clock I heard pounding from the apartment below me and realized that the racket I’d been making was probably upsetting my neighbors. I yelled a loud “I’m sorry” and put everything away. Padding back into the kitchen, I heard a noise coming from the hallway outside my front door. Poking my head out into the hallway, I could tell it was coming from the third floor so I walked over to the stairwell in my socks and peeked over the railing. There were boxes scattered around the entrance to Miss Lapham’s old apartment and the noise was coming from inside. That seemed like record time for re-renting a vacant apartment, and a weird time of day to move in, but what did I know? I figured I’d meet the new tenant eventually, but I was in no hurry. The less attention I attracted, the better, as far as I was concerned.
Shuffling back to the apartment, I looked back at the stairs feeling an odd sense of something following me but there was no one there.
Trying to shake the feeling of being watched, I went back home. I was preparing to settle in with a book when someone knocked at the door. That didn’t weird me out at all, feeling spooked and then having someone knock on my door. I was shakily relieved when I looked through the peephole and saw it was Mr. Goodturn.
I opened the door and welcomed him and we shook hands. Despite our growing bond, Mr. G hadn’t turned into the hugging type. He was wearing a black windbreaker and a black baseball hat. His short stature made him look child-like in the cap although the jacket was strictly old school.
“Good evening, Benjamin.” He removed his hat. “I just returned from a quick trip out of the city and I wanted to stop in to say hello on my way home,” he said, as we walked over to the dinette table, hooking his hat on a chair back.
“How was your trip? What was it for?” I asked, sitting down across from him.
“Ah, best not to discuss it. Counting chickens before they hatch, as the saying goes. My goal wasn’t achieved, but I have high hopes. I’ll have to take another approach. I underestimated the challenges,” he said. He looked tired.
In an attempt to steer the subject in a different direction I said, “Mr. Goodturn, since you’re here, I had a couple of things I wanted to talk to you about.”
“By all means. I’m listening,” he replied.
Attempting to be brief, I explained my problems at school and asked if he would be willing to stand in as my grandfather.
“Of course,” he answered. “I could share some advice with you as well, but it seems as though you have the right perspective. I’m glad you stood up for yourself, but violence isn’t, in most cases, the best first response.”
I was relieved. It wasn’t that I had doubted that he would agree to help; it was more about worrying that he would be disappointed in me.
“I had another question I’ve been thinking about,” I said.
“Yes?” he raised his eyebrows.
“Well, I was curious about our knacks. You told me they were rare, but I’ve run into four people who have them. You, Miss Hoch, Breno and Oso. That seems weird if they’re supposed to be uncommon. Sort of like too coincidental. Why do you think that’s happening? Have you thought about it?”
Rubbing his tuft of red hair, he nodded. “Yes, of course. You’ll recall that my old partner had a slight knack as well. My theory, and that’s all it is, a theory, is that our knacks tend to draw others who have them into our lives. The stronger the knack, the more likely it is that others, whether their knacks are fully developed or not, will gravitate toward those people who are fully manifesting. Our respective knacks might actually be creating a strong attraction for others with knacks. In Sonja’s case, her knack specifically seeks out other’s so that isn’t a coincidence. Even before we married and she was not aware of her ability, I believe that, on a deeper level, she and I were drawn to one another by our knacks. Your hoodlum acquaintance, he knew of your ability before he approached you because of his own abilities. Breno’s presence is of course because of my connection with him.”
“That all makes sense I guess,” I responded, not at all sure that it really answered how we had all managed to congregate in Seattle.
Sliding off the chair and grabbing his hat, he smiled at me. “Very good. Benny, the simple reason I stopped by…” He looked at his shoes. “It was important to see you after my trip. Time is fleeting and I just felt a strong need to say hello and to see your face.”
It felt good to know that he cared about me. Whether my mom ever came back into my life or not, I had people who were important to me, who cared. There was an awkward pause, and he ambled over to the door. Two guys, getting all sentimental.
Mr. Goodturn broke the silence. “I’ll see you soon I hope.”
“Thanks for coming by Mr. Goodturn,” I said.
It poured the rest of the weekend so I was basically trapped in the apartment. Having caught up on all of my homework, I had plenty of time to myself.
Yeah, so I had that going for me.
BOOK SIX
From Worse to Awful or Don’t Try To Be A Hero
CHAPTER ONE
My release from suspension arrived with no fanfare. Not that I expected any. When I got to class, Justine ignored me. Hard to do considering we sat right next to each other. Whether it was my imagination or the real deal, it seemed like the other students avoided eye contact too. Sure seemed like a lot of whispering went on though. Mrs. Sayles was cool and aloof, which struck me as a little odd. I mean, what would they have done if I had been involved in something truly awful? Waterboard me?
No surprised hellos or hugs in the hallway either. I felt like a leper. Lunch was no better, but I did notice that Russell Chu had been adopted by Justine’s friends. Munger’s buddies threw a couple of dark looks in my direction, but the caf monitor was on them immediately. Apparently, Mr. Conroy wanted to nip any potential issues in the proverbial bud and had put out the word.
Baffle was sitting at a table by himself, but I didn’t have any interest in joining him. He had something to apologize for and I had little motivation for being the one to offer an olive branch.
And that’s how my reentry into the student population went.
The rest of the fall fell into a pattern and went by slowly. My trips to the park and my social life continued unchanged. Justine spoke to me only when necessary and although she was never rude, it was clear that she was still hurt and confused. Her friends ignored me, except for Kayla, who gave me the stink eye at every opportunity. Baffle and I steered clear of each other and other than the occasional chin nod in passing, didn’t interact at all. I’d been mostly a loner before and was again, only more so. Thoughts of Miss Hoch drifted away and seemed like more of a bad dream than the horror show it had felt like after the attack. Oso never showed up at Canal Park looking for me and I never went back to Rogers so I could almost pretend that he and I had never known each other. Maddy and I hung out a lot and because her parents continued to travel extensively for work, we enjoyed a lot of freedom. Mr. G and I had dinner together a couple of times a week and I started to feel like I had family. Probably put on a few pounds from all the heavy German food too.
Fall break was right around the corner and I was more than ready to be done with school for a while and all of the loneliness there. It could have been worse, I thought. Yeah. Worse is apparently not relative. Bad is just bad.
The weather allowed for fewer trips to the park but I had developed enough of a reputation so that there was always a good crowd for the masked boy magician
on days when the weather permitted, and for the first time in my independent life, money wasn’t a worry. School had gotten crazy for most of the student population at Roosevelt, but not me. My grades were in great shape and my winter projects were essentially complete. I was lulled into a sense of security by the dullness and predictability of my schedule.
Things bent back in a familiar direction when Justine approached me on a Friday morning. We had talked off and on for weeks and our conversations had slowly become friendlier but nothing more than casual stuff.
“Benny, I need to talk to you,” she said as we were leaving first period and she fell in stride beside me, her dress swaying while she balanced her books.
We’d just been in class together for an hour so I was confused. “Can it wait? Until lunch?”
“No. I don’t want anybody to hear what we’re saying.” She looked around as though she was afraid of being spied on. Her long dark blond hair swung gracefully in rhythm with her worried glances in front and behind us. Brown eyes wide and cheeks flushed she was obviously concerned about something.
“Okay, but we don’t have much time between classes. What is it?” I asked.
Glancing behind her again, she leaned close to me as we walked down the hall side by side. “It’s about your friend Sam.”
“Yeah. We’re not that close anymore,” I replied.
Still leaning close and whispering she said, “I know, but I can’t talk to his other friends. They’re part of the problem.”
I stopped walking. “What’s going on Justine?”
“When the band was packing up after the game I overheard some of the boys talking to him. They’re planning something. It sounded more than just shady; it sounded scary, like people might get hurt.”
She had my full attention. I had always wondered about his connection to Rusty’s friends and Munger’s group and whether that was going to get him into trouble.
“What? What did you hear?”
“Well, I didn’t hear what it was that they were talking about except that it’s supposed to happen during the assembly before the break, and that Sam is getting them something they need to do whatever it is they’re going to do. They said it would make a statement.”