by Luke Loaghan
“Hey…there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do or anywhere I wouldn’t go for you,” I said.
“Thanks, David.”
Juan Perez was also a highly ranked senior student, at the top of the class. I did not know much else about him, other than the fact that I didn’t care for him or his political antics. When he left, I saw him glower at me.
Delancey seemed lost in thought, staring in silence out the window at slowly falling snow flakes. It was cold where we were standing. I was about a foot from her, and I could feel the heat and warmth radiating from her body.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked.
“Well, it’s just that I wish it didn’t have to end. I’m not ready to leave high school. I sometimes think that life is over after high school. At least life as I know it. I have a lot of expectation and demands from my family, and once I get into college, the expectations will increase.” She kept staring out the window.
“It’s the opposite for me. I can’t wait for high school to end. I really don’t want to be a kid anymore. I just want to live my life, my way. I want to leave and never look back.” I was feeling very confident in the way I said things. The more I said it, the better it sounded.
“That’s because you have nothing holding you back. For me I am constantly getting pulled in different directions,” her eyes were melancholic as she spoke.
“I guess that’s true,” I agreed, never before considering that there was really nothing holding me back.
“I have a lot here. I’m very close to my father, and my mother, and just my whole life in New York. We go to restaurants and Broadway shows, and high society parties. It’s really a wonderful way to spend my teenage years.”
Delancey had a great life, and she was attached to her high society soirees, and her night life. Delancey was a good friend, and I was very attracted to her. Nonetheless, I was hesitant to jeopardize our friendship by trying to take things a step further. I still felt that she was out of my league. For now, I was happy just to be in her company.
I rented boots and skis and joined a group of kids taking a lesson. It was helpful, but I realized you just have to do it, and no lesson was really going to prepare me for actual skiing.
I stood waiting for the handheld lift to take me up the beginner’s hill. Natalie was going up the bunny trails. I was still staring at Natalie as the lift was coming my way. I reached out and grabbed it, distracted, not realizing the force with which it would pull me up the hill. It pulled my arm very fast and very sharply. I felt a twinge in my shoulder. I tried to let go, but my sleeve was caught in the lift, and I found myself getting dragged to the top of the bunny slopes. My skis were being dragged with me, and my ankles were twisting. I was struggling to free my wrist from the lift strap.
I continued to be dragged up the hill, and could see the faces of my fellow students pointing and laughing. I finally managed to straighten up and at least look like I knew what I was doing. I freed my sleeve at the top of the hill. If I wasn’t cold and wet, I probably would’ve been warm enough to feel embarrassed.
From the top of the hill I felt frozen with fear. Everyone was going down the hill so fast. “Its now or never” I shouted, and quickly jumped down the hill. The wind was whipping across my face, and I was exhilarated. Other people were waving to me, and it felt like I was flying. It was so much fun, until I tried to stop, and could not slow down. At the very end, I twisted my legs, and came to a stop by violently tumbling down. My legs and knees twisted, and my face rubbed against the ice like sandpaper. I couldn’t wait to do it again. By the end of the day I was ready for a bigger slope, which I figured I could do the next day.
I changed out of my wet clothing. Maurice entered the room and his skin was bright red from ski burn, matching his red hair. We both sat in our beds completely exhausted. No sign of Eddie. I took a hot shower and got ready for dinner. My shoulder stiffened, and I had aches and pains all over. I had bruises on my ribs and back as well. I really didn’t mind; I had a high tolerance for pain.
I ate dinner with Maurice and a few other kids that I did not know too well.
Maurice was eating shwarma, his meal brought from home. It looked like a gyro.
“One man’s gyro is another man’s shwarma, you say tomato and I say shwarma,” he said. The others seemed like normal kids; many were involved in various organizations throughout the school. Their personalities were much easier to deal with than Sam’s.
There were kids from the yearbook committee, from the band, from the chorus, and the last thing we spoke about was Stanton or colleges. I felt like I chose the wrong friends, and missed out on knowing a lot of cool people. This was my opportunity to remedy that notion before high school was over.
The food was pretty good, but, like my father always says, all food is great when you are hungry. I had worked up quite an appetite skiing.
I went back to the room and took a nap. When I awoke, I could barely move my shoulder. I was in tremendous pain. Maurice said my shoulder was completely swollen. I took another hot shower to loosen it up.
At the dance party, I grabbed a Coke and watched the kids dance. It turned into a great party quickly. The music was loud, and the ski lodge provided flashing strobe lights and a smoke machine.
I was the only one not dancing. It looked worse that I was not dancing than it would if I was a bad dancer. In addition to being a terrible dancer, I could barely move my shoulder. On the life map, I wrote that I would never be intimidated by any situation or person and so I started dancing with some friends. Delancey and her friends joined in.
A student fell down while dancing. Laughter followed. I thought nothing of it and kept dancing. At least no one was laughing at me. After the second song, I was less nervous. I danced five songs and went to the table to get my soda.
There were two identical cups of soda on the table. Unsure of which was mine, I took a sip from one of the cups and realized there was a lot of liquor in it. I grabbed the other soda. It was just coke. This one was actually mine. On the dance floor, the kids continued dancing and laughing. Another kid fell down. More outbursts of laughter followed. Most of the kids were drunk.
Jacob noticed that I was favoring my shoulder. He offered me a shot of whiskey, saying it would numb the pain. Jacob held out the plastic cup inches from my mouth. I didn’t want to seem like an unsociable loser. I sipped it slowly, and he complained that I was doing it all wrong. He said “Drink it quickly, like a shot.” I swallowed it fast and it burned my throat. Jacob laughed.
The school chaperones were dancing as well, oblivious to the inebriated situation. The Life Map was in my thoughts. This really didn’t fit in with not having any regrets, because if I got drunk and made a fool of myself, I would definitely have regrets. It was easy to not have another drink because the whiskey tasted awful. If they had beer, it probably would’ve been a tougher decision. That was the last drink I had.
I continued dancing. Ms. Bulzer was also dancing. Some kids were entering and exiting the back of the dance hall. I went to see what the activity was about and as I exited, I smelled pot. Twenty kids were smoking pot outside. Juan was walking back into the dance party. He glowered at me again, this time with red, watery, glazed eyes.
I thought about my options. I wasn’t planning on smoking pot and didn’t come this close to graduating and getting out of New York, only to be suspended, expelled or arrested for smoking pot or hanging around kids that were. One of my goals on the Life Map was not to be arrested. I immediately went back to the dance floor. The one shot of whiskey had kicked in and I was buzzed.
Maurice had joined the party by this time. I asked him if he was going to dance, and he said, “There are no laws against it” with a big smile on his face. He said he was Sephardic, not Hasidic. “The rumors of my Hasidim have been greatly exaggerated.” And then he spoke of god, religion and his point of views for the next few minutes.
“We’re at a party. Maybe we should dance,” I said, quickly getting bor
ed by the conversation. Maurice was quite the dancer. He moved like Michael Jackson – and ended every song with a moonwalk. He even did the moonwalk during slow love ballads. I danced a few songs with Delancey before Juan Perez rudely cut in.
Delancey was giggling non-stop with Juan, as I watched from across the room. It was obvious that they were both stoned. When Delancey fell down, I realized she was completely drunk as well. Juan was all over her as he tried to help her up. I walked over, stepped in front of Juan, and helped Delancey up.
“She’s fine,” Juan said. Delancey nodded.
I asked her to walk off the dance floor with me.
“Delancey – it’s obvious that you are not your self and I really don’t like Juan all over you like that.”
“I know. What’s with that guy? He’s all touchy feely. Typical politician. But I’ll be fine. Walk me to my room.” I took Delancey to her room, and then went to my own room.
It was after midnight, and I was completely exhausted from the skiing, and also from waking up so early. My shoulder felt more than swollen and I was in tremendous pain. Maurice arrived back at the room shortly thereafter. Eddie was already in the room when we arrived. The party was still going strong. My shoulder was stiff and throbbing. I intended to try to sleep it off.
Eddie had been night skiing. He talked on and on about the skiing he had done, and boasted that he was the best skier in our high school. Then he left the room and went to the party. I went to sleep. So did Maurice.
At three in the morning, I awoke to a rumble outside of the room. There was shouting and loud thumps, sounding like a fight had broken out. Maurice turned on the light. Eddie came inside panting, and locked the door behind him; he went to his suitcase, and pulled out the gun, placed it in his pocket, and then placed the nun-chucks in his hand. I asked what was happening.
“It’s getting pretty bad out there. It’s us versus them. The Deceptors are here. Are you coming?” Eddie said.
“Don’t go out there,” Maurice said.
Eddie described how he had been ambushed and punched in the face. I could see a bruise on his face.
“Eddie, if you’re going back out there, leave the gun here,” I said, smelling alcohol and marijuana. That wasn’t exactly a winning combination considering he had a suitcase full of weapons. Eddie didn’t reply. He had completely lost all self control.
Maurice shouted at him, “Eddie if you take a gun out there, your life is over!” It’s not easy trying to talk sense into an inebriated, oversized Chinese gangster. If he didn’t have the gun, it would have been easier to reason with him. A gun changes everything.
I’ve been around people with guns my whole life. If Eddie didn’t have a gun, he would have just been angry and somewhat dangerous considering his enormous size. But since he had the gun, it was like he was on steroids. He was practically salivating to go out there and show his gun off. Eddie wanted to be the kid with the most power. There was no long term thinking in his mind.
“I’m going out there, with or without you,” Eddie said.
Maurice yelled, “We’re not in a gang, and this isn’t a gang fight!”
“One of them could have a gun, and this would even the playing field,” said Eddie. “I’m only going to use it for self defense. How’s it going to look if I don’t strike back? People will talk. They’ll say that I’m a wimp.”
That’s how most people justify carrying a gun. They think it’s only for an extreme situation or for self defense. In reality, Eddie was building up bravado, and he aimed to brandish his weapon to let everyone know that he had it. Eddie wanted to be the big gangster tonight. He headed for the door.
Maurice shouted, “It’s all over – no college, just jail if you go out there.”
“You are not thinking straight; just put the gun back into your suit case,” I pleaded. Eddie walked out, gun in one pocket, and nunchucks in one hand. Maurice and I stared at each other.
“This is not good, and it’s going to get ugly,” Maurice sighed. “We should tell Ms. Bulzer.”
“I don’t think we have that much time.” I was getting dressed to go after Eddie, when Maurice tackled me to the ground. My shoulder hit the floor hard, and I screamed in agony.
“You’re not going anywhere. That’s world war three out there, and you’r unarmed. Stay in the room; there’s nothing you can do.” Maurice sat on my legs, and I could not move. I tried to push him off, explaining that Delancey might be out there.
“Do you have a death wish?” he asked.
There was a loud commotion and then two gun shots. People were screaming and we heard the rumbling of a stampede.
Maurice hit the ground next to me. “Something happened!” he screamed. I ran out of the room to find Delancey. Flashing police lights could be seen out the windows. I thought it was the last time I would see Eddie, that he might be dead. There was no sign of Delancey. The police ordered everyone to their rooms. Minutes later, Ms. Bulzer and the police removed all of Eddie’s belongings.
The police found the butterfly knife, the ninja stars, and the red rope. One of the cops held the rope and remarked, “If you give a man enough rope…well, you know the saying.”
They searched our drawers as well, but did not find any more weapons. Ms. Bulzer, in disbelief, mentioned that Eddie had been accepted to St. John’s University.
The ski lodge announced they were throwing us out. Everyone had to pack their belongings. At seven a.m. we boarded the buses and headed back to Brooklyn. I sat next to Delancey on the bus. She said she had returned to the party after I dropped her off at her room, but was very confused about the events. She remembered someone falling on top of someone else and a fight breaking out.
It was a long, silent bus ride home, and Delancey was clearly upset.
“I had to sit on David to keep him from running after you,” Maurice said to Delancey. “He was willing to risk getting shot to make sure you were safe.”
I was embarrassed when Maurice blurted this out.
“Is that true?” she asked. I nodded. “Why would you risk your own life to find me?”
“I was just worried that something could’ve happened to you. I’d go the distance for you Delancey.” She smiled and said “I know.”
Three hours later the buses arrived back at Brooklyn. Delancey and I went to Junior’s restaurant on Flatbush Avenue.
“I took your advice,” I said to her, with a wry smile.
“What advice was that?” she wondered.
“I decorated my home for Christmas.”
“What did your father think?”
“He didn’t say much, but the next morning he made us breakfast. I guess there’s a first time for everything.”
We took the subway to the West Side of Manhattan and I carried her bag the entire way. She insisted that she could carry her own bag, but I wouldn’t let her. My shoulder was still stiff, still swollen, and it was a struggle. To my relief, one of the doormen took it from me when we arrived at her building. She gave me a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek as we parted.
Chapter 10
My grandmother was cooking a feast. She noticed I was favoring my shoulder and gave me an ice pack to reduce the swelling. Harry was at his job, and my father was at work. Drained from the lack of sleep and the long bus ride home, my grandmother’s hot soup was just what I needed. I just sat and vegged.
“David, how are you doing with your grandfather’s passing?” she asked.
“Fine. But I do miss him.”
“I know you were close with him. Lake talked about you all the time. Are you sure you are okay with everything?” Now she sounded concerned.
“It’s going to take time to get used to him being gone,” I replied somberly.
“I know that you have a hard time letting go. At least you did when your mother passed. Your father is the same way. You get it from him.”
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.” The year following my mother’s death was hard on all of us, a
nd my grandmother said she heard me crying in my sleep, although I never grieved when I was awake.
My grandmother made enough food for three days. We talked about school, and I told her my desire to leave home and go off to college.
The topic of my father came up, and I asked if she thought that my father was lonely. She paused, put her hand on her hip, and said, “He must be. That’s probably why he doesn’t want you to go away to college.”
She was silent for a while. The silence was broken when she said, “You know he lost your mother twice.” A month before my mother passed for good, she was in the hospital. We were all there with her. My mother was very sick, and at one point, her heart monitor went flat, indicating that her heart had stopped beating. My father was devastated, and he crumbled to the floor like a mudslide.
We all thought she had passed, but the doctors and nurses came in and brought her back with a defibrillator. She flatlined for more than a minute, and the doctors revived her. But we got her back for only a month. My father did lose her twice.
Following New Year’s day, gossip spread about the maelstrom of events during the ski trip as the day wore on. By lunchtime, everyone knew about the party, the drinking, the pot smoking, the pills, the fight, and of course, Eddie’s involvement.
I told Sam, Carlos, and John my version of the story. Sam rolled his eyes when I told him that Maurice was one of my roommates. Sam was not only in the habit of making ethnic slurs against Italians, but every other ethnicity as well. It would be fair to say that he hated just about everyone. Finally, unable to stay quiet, he said, “Did he convert you to hasidim?”
“Actually he’s Sephardic. And I had a great time with him and he did me a big favor,” I said.
Carlos was very interested in the party. “What kind of liquor?” he asked nonchalantly. I did not feel the need to answer.
“Man…I really should’ve gone. If I was there, I would’ve had a lot to drink, and probably would’ve smoked something. It’s a ski trip; you’re there to have fun,” Carlos said smiling.