Punk Like Me

by JD Glass

  The Þ rst part of my plan for the day went well enough. I got into the rather empty school building and changed, then just sat quietly in homeroom, going over my homework, studying. It was hard to pay attention, though, because I felt so nauseous, and my body just ached everywhere.

  I know Sister Carlos eventually asked me about my absence note, but I don’t remember what I told her. In fact, I don’t really remember too much about my classes that day, because at some point, I do remember being walked by someone to the principal’s ofÞ ce—I can’t for the life of me remember what class it was, could have been English, it might even have been math (but I hope not, that would have been humiliating in front of Sister Attila)—and being led into the nurse’s room.

  The very next thing I do remember, though, is feeling an ache in my head and sides that was related somehow to the bitter taste in my mouth. I was lying down on my side, and for some reason I kept

  • 226 •

  PUNK LIKE ME

  thinking that I had to get up to walk the dog, Ringo was waiting for me.

  I could hear him whining, whimpering at my door. Damn, this pillow was hard. Small, too.

  If Ringo would only let me sleep a few more minutes, I’d be okay, I’d stop feeling so sick. Please, Ringo, just give me a few more minutes, I promise, I’ll walk you; I just feel like such shit, Ringo, please. And I’m so cold, just a few minutes to get warm, to feel better, but the sound just wouldn’t stop, and it felt like I was ß oating in electric blue water, like being dipped in peppermint, but the water was made of a piercing high note, and I could breathe in it if only I tried. All I had to do was try, but I was scared because I didn’t think peppermint would feel good in my lungs, and I couldn’t Þ nd the surface.

  It occurred to me that my eyes didn’t burn, so maybe this wouldn’t burn my lungs either, and I was about to breathe in when I wondered, what if I change my mind? What if I want to get out of the water? But even though I was ß oating, I couldn’t see the surface, I couldn’t Þ nd it, and no matter how I moved, I couldn’t ß oat up where I thought the surface was supposed to be, I couldn’t get to the air. I’d be stuck there, in that electric blue water that felt like air and stung like peppermint, and no one would know where I was.

  It struck me then that my father wouldn’t Þ nd me, and that made me grimly happy in a small way, relieved even, but then I realized, neither would my mother or Nicky or Nanny, even though I was sort of mad at her. But Mom didn’t love me anymore, and I had to tell Nicky and Nanny that it was okay, that I was okay and I loved them, Mom too, and Dad, even though he was cranky. But I started to move and I knew there was a city at the bottom somewhere, and I didn’t want to go, but I was falling, not down, but in somehow, through the water, and it was beautiful; and I knew if Samantha was there I’d stay, but Blade wasn’t in the water with me, there was nobody there, why was I alone in the water?

  Suddenly, I realized that if I moved any farther I’d never get back to the surface, wherever that was, and I could see the beautiful lights now, below my feet, but I couldn’t see my feet so maybe it was in front of me and that was weird, and I knew that I had to share that beauty with someone. I knew with a very certain surety that Samantha would recognize those lights and want to see them, too, and Nicky, he would love it there, I knew he would. I had to go back and Þ nd them, had

  • 227 •

  JD GLASS

  to bring them with me because they’d understand it. I had to get out of there, but I’d come back with people who would understand and appreciate the beauty of it.

  There was a voice, and it was talking. No, it was yelling. It was me. I was telling myself to get up, Nina, get up, wake up, open your eyes, and I didn’t know why I was yelling at myself, when my eyes were already open. “See, it doesn’t sting your eyes,” I told my silly voice, “and we can breathe, too,” and I started to take a deep breath to demonstrate, but before I did a thought struck me. “Nobody cries here, you know,” I said, and I thought, that was good, because I was never ever going to do that again, anyway. I was going to the beautiful place with all the lights. I could see them all now, and they were like clouds or bubbles, and they were people; they were coming to meet me, to share their beauty and their warmth with me. I could tell because I wasn’t cold anymore.

  Nicky would Þ nd me someday, so would Samantha, and I’d greet them when they got there, and I told them so. I was going to go wait for them and make beautiful things while I waited, and we’d all laugh about it later, because it was funny, delightful, because it felt good. I laughed in pure joy and moved forward to join the dance that was starting, no, it was ongoing, it was. There was a place for me, waiting all this time, there, a hand stretched out for mine, and I knew who it was, my friend, my dear beloved friend, my family, I was so glad, so very glad…

  Now the sound was back, no, it had been there all along, and my voice was screaming at me to get up, get up, get up. “Okay, Ringo, I’m coming, I’m coming.”

  There was a gentle hand on my back, but it hurt where it touched, and my ribs and head ached as I opened my eyes and puked my guts up into the pail a hand held in front of my face.

  “Okay, now, steady there. You’ll be all right, you’ll be all right…” a sister’s voice soothed and she gently patted my back.

  I ß inched away from the touch and, Þ nally, the gagging and outpouring stopped. The sister handed me a napkin and a paper cup with water, and I looked up to receive them, right into Sister Attila’s eyes. “Thank you,” I rasped out, tired, aching, and grateful.

  “You’re most welcome, Nina,” Sister answered gently, and I took the napkin and the water, wiped my face, and drank. The water was soothingly cool as it went down my tight and hot throat. There was blood on the tissue, and as I sighted along the green leatherette chaise

  • 228 •

  PUNK LIKE ME

  I’d been lying on (you know the kind—ß at, hard, rounded, one end raised about twenty degrees), I saw blood on the little pillow someone had put there for my head. “Home Sweet Home,” someone had stitched in butter yellow on the blue silk, and now it was red. My nose or mouth must have started bleeding again. I was embarrassed.

  I threw both the cup and the tissue into the basket, and Sister Attila removed it, then watched me as I struggled to sit up straight. I couldn’t.

  The pain was too intense in my ribs and head but, mercifully, the nausea and dizziness were gone.

  I leaned my head back against the wall. Okay, so it was math class that I’d lost track of. I eyed Sister warily while she watched me. I’d tried so hard to never show the slightest sign of weakness in her class, dammit, and that was gone now. I was sure I’d hear about this in class to no end. I could just imagine it. “Boyd, think you can stay awake this time? Perhaps you’re reacting to your last exam? That would make me ill, too, I’m sure. Nauseous, even,” but she said not a word for a bit, just watched me, analyzed me.

  Finally, she spoke. “Are you okay, Boyd?” Well, let’s see, I was broke, homeless, disowned and disavowed, beaten and bloody, had just embarrassed myself by bleeding and puking in front of her, I think I had just spoken to God and S/He was blue water and peppermints. Did I forget something?

  Oh yeah, I was gay. Grounds for excommunication, execution in older times. And the girl I was dating or whatever you want to call it (fucking just didn’t really seem appropriate for me) had either been the victim of my father and Jack and Joey’s lies and machinations or was the, with a capital THE, biggest bitch in the world. And my nose was broken. And maybe a few ribs. And I think I had a concussion. Does that sound okay to you? Nah, me either. I didn’t say any of that, though.

  Concussed I might be, crazy, never.

  I tried to nod, then decided against it. “Yes, Sister, thank you,” I said instead. The queasiness came back, making me blink.

  “Would you care to tell me what happened?” Automatically, I went to shake my head to the negative. Mistake, big bad mistake. I swayed from m
y position against the wall, and Sister came over to help me (do life’s little humiliations ever cease? No!).

  “Never mind, Nina, just lie here a bit,” she ordered softly, putting the little pillow back in place for me with a little tissue over it, so I wouldn’t have to lie in my own blood again. “I’m going to see if the

  • 229 •

  JD GLASS

  principal, Sister Clarence, has gotten in touch with your mother.”

  “Please, don’t call my mother,” I said as she left the little room, and I don’t know if she heard me or not. I closed my eyes, and seconds later both sisters had come into the room. I sat up as best I could on my own, so I could pay proper attention. They stood before me.

  “I’ve spoken with your mother, Nina.” Sister Clarence spoke Þ rst.

  Her expression was very serious and she didn’t seem pleased. I could only wonder what my mother had said. “It seems that there’s no one available to pick you up, and even were we to send you home in a car, there’s no one there to watch you…” She let that hang in the air, her expression concerned and puzzled as well. I’d been sent home from school before when I’d been sick, and that had never been a problem, and Sister Clarence knew that. As the principal, she’d been the one to send me home.

  Sister Attila’s brow furrowed in concentration as well. “She can’t just stay here till the end of day, and we can’t put her on the bus at that time…hmm…” She spoke softly and stroked her chin in thought. She turned to Sister Clarence. “Clarence, I have an idea. If you’ll excuse us, Boyd.” She nodded at me, and they stepped out, closing the door behind them.

  I couldn’t really hear what they said, but I knew whatever they were discussing, it would put the needs of the school Þ rst—couldn’t have improprieties, I knew. But I was starting to feel sick and sleepy again, so I wasn’t going to worry about it more. I put my head down.

  The next thing I knew, Sister Clarence was helping me sit up and put my coat on. I couldn’t really focus; her words were swimming in and out, and I couldn’t see very clearly. Something was on my left eye, weighing it down, making the lids heavy. A bar or something was in front of it.

  “Okay, Nina, the seniors get out early today…” I lost the rest of that statement as I stood, “walk you down—”

  “No, Sister, I’m Þ ne,” I protested. “I can walk, really, I’m okay.” I didn’t understand her, really. The seniors were going to escort me down the hill? Was this an exit party? In that case I didn’t want company.

  In the end, Sister Clarence walked me out of the school and to the main door, where a black car stood waiting. Sister had carried my book bag and gym bag, someone took them from her and placed them in the trunk, while someone else opened the back door and let me in. I put my head down right away. I had no energy left for anything else, and my

  • 230 •

  PUNK LIKE ME

  head was painful and heavy.

  “Keep her with you, keep an eye on her until you can get in touch with her parents at home. Then see what they want to do.” I heard Sister Attila’s voice faintly through the window. I heard Sister Clarence add something, but I couldn’t hear what it was. The roar in my head was too loud; then very clearly, I heard, “I’ll do whatever is necessary, Sister.” It was Samantha, I was in Samantha’s car, and suddenly I could Þ ll in the blanks to what Sister Clarence had been trying to tell me. The seniors got out early today; they were sending me home with Samantha until someone could take me home, so that way there’d be someone to keep an eye on me. I didn’t think I needed anyone’s eye on me, though; I thought I just needed a nap. And maybe a new life. Could I get a do-over?

  Samantha got in and the door closed with a thump that jarred my whole body and made my teeth bounce. I must have made a sound, because Samantha softly apologized as we pulled out. “I’m sorry, Nina, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Samantha, Sammy,” I singsonged from my perch on the car door.

  “I’m A-OK, you can just drop me off at the train, I’ll be Þ ne.”

  “Okay, later. I think I’ll do what Sister Clarence asked Þ rst, though, if that’s all right by you, okay?” she asked me, and I could hear the smile in her voice. That made me feel good, and I closed my eyes again.

  The next thing I knew, I heard the trunk opening and closing, and a few moments later, the back door was opening. “Must be one hell of a ß u you’ve got there, Razor,” Samantha was saying as the door swung wide. “I knew you should’ve gotten some rest last night. You gave it all in the pool last night, I—” she broke off with a gasp, “guess,” she Þ nished softly, staring.

  I’d Þ nally sat up, and Samantha could really see for herself what I looked like. I suppose the nuns had just told her I was sick, so she wouldn’t worry unnecessarily.

  My head throbbed as I looked back at her through my right eye.

  The left just didn’t want to work for some reason; it wouldn’t open more than a crack. “I caught the ß u with my head,” I tried to joke and smile, but smiling hurt my face.

  “You sure did,” she tried to joke back. “C’mon, let’s go inside, okay?” Samantha urged gently, and she smiled at me, but her eyes looked large and frightened. And even with the smile, the corners of her

  • 231 •

  JD GLASS

  mouth were tight, like I’d seen them get before when she was angry, and I was now much more familiar with what she looked like that way.

  “Are you mad at me?” I asked her cautiously, because I wasn’t sure anymore, not of her, not of anyone, and I was better off Þ nding out sooner rather than later. “I’m sorry Sister made you drive me,” I apologized as I struggled out of the car. Samantha caught me around the shoulders and walked me up the ß agstones to the steps that led to her front door.

  “I volunteered, Nina,” she informed me softly as she opened the door and guided me in. I noticed my book and gym bags were right by the door as we walked in; she must have brought them in for me, I thought vaguely as she guided me past one room, through another, and up some stairs.

  “Here, lie down,” she ordered gently, and I did. I have some fuzzy recollections of Samantha helping me get changed, helping me get my shoes off, stuff like that. I remember I was very reluctant to lift my arms because of the pain, and Samantha gasped when she saw my ribs.

  A soft, clean white T-shirt ß oated down over my head and arms, covering my torso, and as I lay down, Samantha asked me in a whisper,

  “Who did this, Nina. What happened?”

  My eyes were closing as my head touched the pillow. “It’s okay, Samantha, it’s not a big deal,” I tried to tell her, “it was just, you know, a disagreement.” It’s not that I was trying to blow Samantha off; it was just that I was feeling sick again, and I didn’t want to go into the whole thing right now. That hurt much more than just my body to think about.

  Samantha tried again, “Oh Nina, your beautiful hair…what about your parents? Do they know?” She ran a soft Þ ngertip along the exposed skin above and in front of my ear. “Have you told them? Did anyone call the cops?”

  That got me, and I tried to laugh bitterly but failed; the sharp pains across my ribs prevented me. “Yeah, they know, they know all about it, and they don’t care,” I told her. I was drifting again, and I could feel fresh breezes make their way across my face, like a perfect summer’s day. A thought struck me, and I spoke aloud without realizing it. “My mom, she doesn’t hit like a girl.”

  “Baby, that’s just not possible,” Samantha whispered, still stroking the one part of my body that didn’t make me grit my teeth. I could hear the shock in her voice, and a trace of the anger I was starting to

  • 232 •

  PUNK LIKE ME

  recognize. “Sleep, Nina. I’m right here, rest a bit, okay?” I felt her lips softly touch the bare skin I’d shaved that morning.

  Someone was calling my name, and there was a dance I was supposed to be part of. I had to get there, the call was irresistible
, and I didn’t have too much energy to stay to talk. My eyes were closed, but I saw stars and bright Þ elds and clear blue water. In the middle of the Þ eld stood a huge stone, big enough to climb, big enough to comfortably hold six people, a dog, and a picnic, and I knew that it would be a perfect place to watch the stars from.

  It was striated, weathered, and worn, and I could tell that it had been dumped there a long time ago, after the earth had cooled then warmed again. The weather came and went, but still that stone remained, cracked and unlovely, yes, but still looking at the stars.

  “I’m a rock, Samantha,” I said dreamily, and I smiled.

  • 233 •

  • 234 •

  PUNK LIKE ME

  CHAPTER TWELVE:

  A SORT OF HOMECOMING

  Someone was crying—not sobbing hysterically, but the kind of crying you do when you’re helpless and there’s nothing left to be done and tears are useless, but you can’t stop them. It wasn’t me, I knew. I wasn’t doing that anymore.

  I felt a soothing, cool pressure on my face, and I realized I was lying on my side. I still hurt all over, but there was a clarity to the pain, not the disorienting twisting and half awareness that I’d had before.

  I raised a hand to my face and encountered a cool, damp washcloth over my head and left eye, so I gently removed it and opened them—

  both of them. The left one was still sore, but at least there was light, and it was good.

  The Þ rst thing I noticed was the light streaming in through the blinds covering the windows about ten feet away. The walls were a light yellow, and the rug across the ß oor was a tawny beige. About three feet from the foot of the bed was the door that led out to a hallway; if I tilted my head a bit, I could see stairs that went down. To the right of the door was a desk, with a pile of books and a few small pennants, and on the wall was, of all things, a Love and Rockets poster, and next to that, a Led Zeppelin one—you know the one, with the angels being cast out of heaven? I looked at the pennants on the desk again; they were from school.