The Fourth Stall

by Chris Rylander

  “What happened?” I asked as we went inside. Brady was reading a book and Fred was playing his Nintendo DS.

  Then I looked at Joe. He was green, like cartoon characters look when they’re sick. I thought he might blow chunks right there in my office. Right in the only stall in the school with no toilet. But he swallowed hard and I was pleased that words came out of his mouth and not his lunch.

  “They got to him,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Must have been some of Staples’s guys. Tanzeem got jumped outside of school this morning; they were just waiting for him. I saw him in the nurse’s office, Mac, and he was pretty messed up. It was so bad that the nurse sent him home,” Joe said.

  “Whoa,” I said. The school didn’t send kids home unless it was really bad.

  Joe nodded, looking ill again.

  Staples had taken out Tanzeem before I could even talk to him. Which meant that he had known about my plan to hire him. Which led me to believe that Staples possibly had a spy or maybe an informant, or some other way that he was getting information.

  “Well, we’re just going to have to do this ourselves, then. We’ll be Fred’s personal bodyguards. He’ll just stay here with us every lunch and recess,” I said.

  I didn’t like where this was headed. It almost made me want to go to the principal, but I couldn’t. Mr. Dickerson wouldn’t get it. He would only make things worse somehow.

  Chapter 6

  After school that day Joe, Vince, and I walked Fred home. We were two blocks from our school and two from Fred’s house, exactly halfway, when they stepped out from behind the shrubs and onto the sidewalk. There were five of them total: Barnaby Willis and four high schoolers.

  Two wore baggy clothes and had long hair. They had a dangerous look to them, like they wouldn’t think twice before punching a little kid in the face. The other two were athlete types with spiky hair and polo shirts. Barnaby wore the same clothes he had on this morning and also a look of revenge.

  Now, Joe is a big guy, the biggest at our school. In fact, he was even bigger than two of the four high school kids in front of us. But he is only an eighth grader, and there is only one of him. We weren’t going to be able to fight our way out of this.

  “Hey, hey, hey, look what we have here,” one of the high schoolers said.

  “Yeah, I thought I smelled a rat,” said another.

  “Oh no,” Fred said, tugging at my sleeve. “That’s Staples’s posse. They do all of his dirtiest work. We’re in trouble now, Mac.”

  I already knew that we were in trouble.

  “Who are your new friends, rat?” asked another of the high schoolers.

  “Wait, wait . . . I know you. You’re that problem-solver guy,” said a spiky-haired kid. “It just so happens that I have a problem. Can you help me?”

  I just stared at him.

  “You see, my problem is that I have a rat and a quitter to deal with, and I don’t know how exactly to go about it. On one hand, I could set a trap. I could trick this quitter-rat-snitch and then squish him when he’s least expecting it. Or on the other hand, I could just get a stick and take care of this rat problem right out in the open. What do you think, Mr. Problem-Solver Guy? MacGyver, isn’t it?”

  The other high schoolers laughed at this.

  I just kept staring at him. At this point I figured he must be PJ, the guy Fred had said was second in command to Staples.

  “Yeah, that’s a tough one, isn’t it?” PJ continued. “I guess the best way might just be to pound him into the ground. After all, the more simple a plan is, the less that can go wrong, right?”

  He started walking toward us. The other four followed. They walked slowly but with a purpose.

  “Split up,” I yelled, and grabbed Fred’s arm.

  Fred and I ran to our right, across the Andersons’ front lawn. I didn’t see where Joe and Vince went. I pulled at Fred’s arm to help him keep up with me. We ran around the side of the house to the backyard. Fred breathed hard, struggling to keep up. I could hear at least two of the five high school kids following us, their heavy footsteps pounding the soft grass. I tried not to think about what would happen when they caught us.

  And they would catch us. Fred’s legs were just too short to outrun high school kids. Not only that, but our backpacks were weighing us down, too. I veered right and headed for the corner of the next house. I pulled Fred along, hoping he wouldn’t fall. We turned the corner sharply and then I dropped to the ground, pulling Fred down with me.

  I sat with my backpack to the house and listened to our pursuers’ approaching footsteps. As soon as I heard them near the corner, I stuck out my leg and held my breath. The one in the lead never saw it coming. I felt a sharp stab of pain in my shin as his feet tangled under my leg and he went sprawling. PJ was running too close behind to stop. He didn’t have time to react, and his legs tangled up with the first kid’s. They grunted as their bodies collided with the ground in front of us.

  I lifted Fred to his feet.

  “Run!” I said.

  “But, Mac—”

  “Fred, just go!” I yelled, and gave him a shove. He took off through the bushes and disappeared behind a fence.

  I turned to face my pursuers, who were just getting to their feet. I made sure that I stayed between them and where Fred had run.

  “Go get the little rat. I’ll deal with this one,” PJ said.

  The other kid made a move to get by me and I stepped in front of him. He grabbed my shoulders and threw me to the ground and then ran after Fred. I started to get to my feet, but PJ lifted me up first. He slammed me against the house and held me there by the shoulders. The edge of one of my textbooks pressed painfully into my lower back.

  “So you think you can get away with tripping me?” PJ said. His breath was hot on my face. It smelled like rotting pizza. I squirmed. “What’s the matter? You want to get away?”

  “Yeah, your breath smells. Don’t you ever brush your teeth?” I said.

  “Whoa, look at that. You’re just a little punk, aren’t you? Staples is going to have a lot of fun with you,” he said. “But not before I do first.”

  “We’ll see,” I said.

  “I was going to go easy on you but not anymore,” he said, still pinning me to the side of the house.

  I was just starting to formulate a plan when I saw Fred come out of nowhere. He ran right up behind PJ with his backpack reared back to strike. I instinctively flinched as Fred started swinging it toward PJ.

  The next thing I knew I was on my feet and PJ was on the ground holding his side.

  “Come on,” I said, and grabbed Fred’s arm.

  We ran back toward the alley. My shin and back ached and I wanted to stop, but I forced myself to keep going. I led us around the next house and across the street. We crouched behind a bush.

  I peeked back through the leaves.

  PJ stood up and grabbed his ribs. He bent over and it looked like he was trying to catch his breath. Then after a few moments, he calmly walked toward the street, away from where we hid.

  PJ met up with the kid who’d chased Fred after I’d tripped them. The kid shook his head and raised his palms to the sky. PJ shoved him and said something harshly. The other kid shook his head again. Then they walked down the street and out of view.

  “How did you get away?” I asked as we remained hidden in the bushes.

  “I just hid and he ran right by me. He’s kind of dumb,” Fred said.

  “Thanks, Fred. You really saved me.”

  Fred just shrugged, but I thought I saw him blush.

  We waited in the bushes to make sure the coast was clear. My shin and back still ached. I felt pretty helpless. That was twice in one day that I had been cornered and then rescued. I didn’t know whether to feel lucky I had good friends or ashamed that I couldn’t defend myself.

  After I was convinced that Staples’s posse was really gone, we headed toward Fred’s house. I dropped him off, making sure he was sa
fely inside, and then I jogged to Joe’s backyard.

  We had agreed long ago to meet there if we were ever split up unexpectedly. Vince’s trailer park was the farthest away, near this neighborhood called the Creek. It was the dirtiest, shadiest neighborhood in town and everybody knew that that’s where you went if you needed drugs or something like that. Pretty much everybody stayed away from the Creek unless they lived there. And my house wasn’t a good option because that’s where we hid the Funds. In a time of panic or danger why would we want to lead anyone there?

  When I got to his house, I found Joe sitting calmly on the stump of a tree that had been cut down a few years ago. Joe had convinced his dad not to dig up the stump and it became Joe’s favorite chair. He always called dibs on it long before Vince or I could even open our mouths.

  “Hey, Mac,” he said.

  I nodded at him. It looked like he’d put up a good fight. He had a reddish purple eye and his lower lip was a little swollen.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah, fine. I’m kind of worried about Vince, though,” he said.

  Joe was one tough guy, that was for sure. I didn’t think I would be so calm after getting punched in the face. I didn’t think any kid could be so calm after getting punched. It’s moments like this that make me pretty happy he’s on my side.

  “What happened to Vince?” I asked.

  Vince was a funny guy, and he was super smart and good with money and numbers, but like I said before, he’s not very good at confrontations. He usually just avoids them altogether. Joe caught his breath while I looked out into the street. I didn’t see any sign of Vince. Joe’s house was only a few blocks from where it had all happened, so Vince should have been there by now.

  “What happened, Joe?” I asked again, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt.

  “Well, the other three came right after me first and Vince ran. I think Barnaby wanted revenge, because basically the two high schoolers held me down while Barnaby pounded me like a punching bag. But then Vince came back. He shouted at them to get their attention and then he started making fun of them. He really let them have it, too. It was pretty funny. Anyways, one of the high schoolers went after Vince and that’s the last I saw of him. But he saved my butt, because once it was down to just two, I was able to fend them off pretty easily. After I got a few punches in, the chickens took off just like Willis did this morning,” Joe finished. That sounded like Vince; he was basically the least glamorous hero that ever existed.

  “We should go look for him,” I said.

  “I’m sure he’s okay, Mac. He had a decent head start.”

  I nodded. And we needed to wait there because that’s our protocol if we get split up in a pinch. But it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Just sitting there while Vince was possibly in danger was basically torture.

  We waited for almost ten minutes, but it seemed like ten days. I was starting to get so worried that I thought I might cry, which would have been embarrassing. I kept picturing the horrible things those high school kids might’ve been doing to Vince right at that very moment. All the while Vince would probably be trying to make jokes, too.

  Finally, Vince showed up. He came walking casually into the backyard from the street. He looked okay, as far as I could tell.

  “What took you?” I asked. Though, really, I didn’t care. I was just relieved he’d made it back in one piece.

  “I just wanted to make sure it was all clear. Are you okay?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “Thanks for helping me out, Vince,” Joe said.

  “What happened? Didn’t he get you?” I asked Vince.

  He shook his head and laughed.

  “It was close, but I got away. When he came after me, I ran faster than I ever have before. He chased me all the way down to Pete’s house. He was going to catch me, too, but I knew that if I got to Pete’s house his mom would be outside gardening. And I knew that he wouldn’t dare touch me with some lady watching.”

  Pete’s mom was obsessed with her garden. One time we were over at his house playing baseball in the street and the ball landed in her garden. She screamed at us and then picked the ball up and threw it on the roof. She was kind of crazy.

  “So she was outside, then?” I asked.

  “Is the Pope Catholic?”

  “I don’t know, is he?”

  “Yeah. My grandma always says the Pope is Gouda, but I think that’s a cheese and not a religion,” Vince said while grinning. “Did you get Fred home okay?”

  “Yeah, the little kid actually saved me.”

  “You were saved by a third grader,” Joe said.

  Vince laughed.

  “Whatever,” I said. “What matters is that this is bigger than just Fred now. We’re in for a fight. A dirty one.”

  Joe and Vince nodded.

  This was nowhere close to being worth twenty bucks. But I had a reputation to uphold. And Fred needed my help. He had saved me back there. Not many third graders would have had the courage to do that.

  Tomorrow we had to start thinking about ourselves. We would get revenge for what they had done to Joe and for the attack this morning. We obviously had more to worry about than just protecting Fred now. Or even just protecting ourselves. The whole school was at risk. Staples was dangerous, and he wasn’t going to just shut down his operation on his own.

  Besides, what else did I expect? I couldn’t just keep protecting Fred forever. Eventually I’d run out of money. Eventually more kids would come to me for help with Staples. We couldn’t live like this. The only way to end this was to get Staples out of my school for good. We definitely needed to do more than simply protect Fred; we needed to take down Staples.

  Chapter 7

  I guess that this is as good a time as any to take a moment and tell you about how our business got started. How Vince and I built it up out of nothing.

  It all started when my family lived in this trailer park called Bella Vista. I was in kindergarten and we had just moved to town. Vince lived in the trailer next to mine. He was really nice to me right from the start, which was cool because nobody likes being the new kid.

  The day we moved in, my parents were moving boxes inside and unpacking and stuff like that. I sat out in the grass in front of my trailer playing with some Transformers.

  “Hey,” I heard someone say.

  I looked up and saw a kid about my age standing over me. He had dark hair and dark eyes and he was smiling.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “Is that Soundwave?” he asked, nodding at my Transformer.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Cool. He’s my favorite. Hey, do you like nachos?” he asked.

  “Uh, yeah, why?” I asked.

  I was pretty sure that he was going to ask me to come over and have some with him because that’s usually what followed a question like that, but of course at that time I didn’t know what Vince was like.

  “Cool. Me, too. Hey, do you want to go play football?” he asked.

  “Uh, okay, sure,” I said.

  After I got my parents’ permission, we set out walking toward the huge playground across the street. I saw some kids of all ages in a clearing running around and throwing a mini football. I’d never played with older kids before, so I was already really nervous. At that time I didn’t realize that that’s just how trailer parks are. They’re kind of like their own little club. There were only so many kids living in Bella Vista trailer park, so they all usually kind of hung out and played together regardless of how old they were.

  “My name’s Vince,” he said as we walked toward the clearing.

  “Cool. I’m Christian.”

  Right before we got there he said, “Have you ever seen a rattlesnake in real life before?”

  “No, have you?” I asked, hoping that he had and that he’d tell me all about it.

  “Nope,” he said, and then he didn’t say anything else.

  After a while longer he said, “My grandma sa
ys that pudding is the only reason to get out of bed in the morning.”

  I started laughing and so did he. I knew it already—I was going to love hanging out with this kid. He’d made me laugh even though I was so nervous I felt like crying.

  When we got to the playground, Vince coughed loudly and said, “This is Christian. He’s a good friend of mine and he wants to play, too.”

  “Okay,” said an older kid holding the football. “I’m Barry and this here is Eric.” He pointed to another older kid. “We kind of run the football games here. You’re totally welcome to play if you want.”

  “Thanks,” I managed to say. I was still nervous, but these kids seemed pretty nice. And it was Vince who had gotten me the invite.

  “Hi,” said a few of the other kids closer to my age.

  Then we played football. Well, we played football as well as a group of kids between kindergarten and fourth grade could, which was with lots of fumbles and dropped passes and not a lot of rules, even though we still spent a lot of the time arguing over the few rules we did have. But it was fun, mostly because I’d just made a new friend.

  Vince came over the next day and we played video games. And the following day I went to his place. Pretty soon, we were hanging out every day. And I still hadn’t got tired of Vince saying stuff like, “My grandma says that the only real way to eat a pinecone is with tortoise gravy and a sense of self-worth.”

  We would go over to each other’s trailer and play video games and board games. We used to do this thing called Gameday. It was where we would play all of the board games we owned on the same day. And we would track our scores and keep records of who was winning and losing in this huge notebook. That was Vince’s idea. Turned out he was obsessed with statistics and records even back then. It’s no surprise he eventually became the business manager.

  The point is: We were pretty inseparable. And one of our favorite things to do was to bring all of our action figures to this huge playground in the middle of the trailer park and play desert action movies and stuff. We did this almost every single day during that summer between kindergarten and first grade.