I was just about to shoot a store owner when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, Stu."
I almost jumped out of my skin. "You scared me," I said.
Donny laughed. Then he glanced at the television screen. "Killing store owners," he said. "Good job. I like that." He took the controller from me. "No more for today. We have to get you home. You do what I say, Stu, and you can play this game again. Next time I'll give you a little something that will make the game that much better."
I scrambled to stand up. If I did what Donny said, I would get to play this game again.
Donny slung his arm around my shoulder. "Remember what I said. This is our special time. No one can know. If you let anyone know, it won't be special anymore."
I nodded. "Okay," I said. Donny had a cool car and cool video games.
I needed to do what he said.
"Can I go to the washroom before we go?" I asked.
"Down the hall to the left," he said. "Be quick."
I went down the hall but then couldn't remember what he had said. Left or right? I wasn't great with my left and right anyway. There was a door that was closed, and I figured it might be the one so I opened it. But it wasn't the washroom. The only thing in the room was a table, some chairs and a big thing that looked like a scale, and packages of white powder.
And guns! Guns! Real guns. I wanted to see them. Touch them. What if I put one in my hand and pretended to shoot it? I could pick something on the wall and snipe it just like in the video games!
I went to the table and picked it up. It was way heavier than I thought it would be. And cold. The metal was hard. I wrapped my hand around it and stared at it. Then I pointed it to the wall. Boom. Boom. What would happen if I actually pressed the trigger?
"Hey!" Donny stormed into the room. "What the f— are you doing in here? Put that down!"
I did what he said and I put the gun back on the table.
Donny grabbed my arm and dug his fingers into my skin. His eyes had changed and they looked black. In my mind, I saw my biological mother, when I was little. Her eyes used to get like this.
I ducked. "Don't hit me," I said.
He yanked my arm and pulled me out of the room, his fingers still digging hard into my skin.
"Don't," I said. "You're hurting me."
He let go of me, and I rubbed my arm. Red marks were appearing where his fingers had been.
"Don't be nosing around." It was like he hissed his words. "And never touch my guns."
My throat felt really dry and my stomach was turning upside down.
"I still have to pee." Now I really had to pee.
He shoved me hard toward another door, which opened and, sure enough, I saw a toilet and sink.
"Go," he said.
I went to close the door but he blocked me from doing that. "I want the door open."
At first it was hard to pee knowing he was watching me, but then it came out. I finished, flushed the toilet, and washed my hands.
He didn't talk to me at all when we walked outside. When we got in his car, he looked over at me. "What you did in there was wrong, Stu. It's my house. My things. I tell you what you can play with and where you can go." He started his car and peeled away from the curb, squealing his tires.
I wondered if him grabbing my arm was my consequences for going in the room.
"We have time for a fast ride," he said.
I glanced over at him and now he was smiling at me, so I smiled back. He wasn't mad at me anymore. He put his hand on my shoulder.
"We're friends," he said. "Don't forget that."
After a fast spin on the highway, a super-short one, he dropped me off, three blocks from my home, and in a different spot.
"How come you're dropping me off here?" I asked.
"Run, kid. You're fast. Keep telling your parents you're at track-and-field practice. And don't mention my house or my room. You do, I will never let you play my video games again." He smiled at me. "You liked those games? Right?"
I nodded. I got out of the car and, because I wanted to make Donny happy and keep the smile on his face, I took off running as fast as I could, which wasn't as fast as I really could because my backpack kept shifting all over the place, slowing me down. Too many stupid books that Tony made me take home.
I kept running anyway because if Donny watched me run fast maybe he'd still like me.
I heard his car and when I looked back, he'd done a U-turn in the middle of the street and taken off the other way.
Didn't matter. I'd still run fast because he told me too and because he was right about my parents thinking I was at track and field.
By the time I got home, I was tired and sweating. The sun shone in the sky and the rain that had happened had cleared everything and made buds come out on the trees, and it was hotter than it had been in days. I stood for a few seconds, trying to catch my breath before I walked around to the back of my house.
When I opened the back door, I heard voices and it sounded like Sam was at my house. He'd only been to my house a couple of times before: once when my parents wanted him to come to dinner and another time when we were getting ready to go to an event and my parents were driving us. I couldn't always remember everything, but I remembered that event. A dance with a disco ball and we did the conga line and danced like robots. And there had been a photo booth where I dressed up as a cowboy and Sam had dressed up as the lawmaker. It made me think about how that event had been a lot of fun too, and that Sam never grabbed my arm when we were friends.
I stood still and listened to the voices. It sure sounded like Sam. I dumped my backpack on the floor and took the stairs two at a time.
"Stuart," said my mother, almost as if she was out of breath. "You're home!" She held her hand to her chest for a second then she reached out and hugged me, which was kind of weird. I'd just come home from school. No big deal.
When we walked into the kitchen I found out I was right. Because sure enough, there was Sam, sitting at my table where I ate breakfast.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him.
Sam looked funny, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't do. He glanced at my mother and she glanced at him, then they both looked at me.
"I'd like you to sit down," said my mother.
Uh oh. Had I done something wrong? Was this going to be a consequences talk? I hated that talk. I sat down anyway. Sam sat down too because he'd stood when I came in.
"Sam said he saw you getting into a car after school," said my mother.
I looked at Sam. "You saw me?"
He nodded. "Little Man, buddy, that guy is bad news."
"You know Donny?"
"Donatello. Lots of people know him," he said.
"Look at me, Stuart," said my mother. So I did. "You told me you were at track and field." Her eyebrows were squeezed together and she stared directly into my eyes.
I hung my head and slid down the chair. I stared at the tabletop.
"Why did you lie to me?" she asked.
"I dunno," I said, kicking the chair across from me.
"Can you think about this for a minute?"
"Okay." I still stared down, not wanting to look anyone in the eye. I hated looking people in the eye. My hands automatically moved up and down my thighs, and I scratched. The sound of my nails on the denim kind of echoed because no one was talking.
Why did I go with Donny?
"He has a super-fast car and took me for rides," I said. Then I thought of something else. "And he wanted to be my friend."
Sam blew his breath out, like, super loudly, like he'd just come off the basketball court, only he couldn't play basketball anymore.
"Stuart," he said almost in a whisper, "I'm so sorry."
"This isn't your fault, Sam," said my mother.
I looked up. "Is it my fault?" I sure hoped it wasn't.
My mother blew air out of her mouth too. "Let's not place blame. But Stuart, you can't just take rides from people you don't know. And you can
't lie. You lied to me about going to track and field."
"He's not a stranger anymore. I know him now," I said. "Only the first day was he a stranger. He said I was special. Sam didn't want to be my friend anymore, but Donny said we were friends."
"I did so still want to be your friend," said Sam.
I stared at him, and this time I definitely frowned. "No, you didn't. You quit Best Buddies."
"Because I was sick," he said. "And…I just couldn't handle anything but school." He rubbed his hands together and had that droopy look on his face like he was a sad dog.
"You still quit," I said.
"You're right," he said. Then he sucked in this huge breath of air. I just looked at him. He looked at me too, like, right at me. "We can go back," he said. "I can join up again. Let's do the I Can Play event. It's on the weekend. I'll go with you."
"Sure," I said. I stood up, thinking that everything was over.
"Sit down, you," said my mother. "I want to chat a little longer." She clasped her hands together.
I hated when she did that because that meant we might have to talk on and on and on. I was tired of talking and sitting. So boring.
"How about we put on a timer and go for five minutes," I said. That's what she always did to me. Put on a timer when she wanted me to do my homework.
"Fair enough," she said. She got up, went to the oven, and put the timer on.
"Five minutes," I said. No longer."
"Okay." She came back to the table and sat down. I hoped the minutes were ticking by. "I want to know—what else did you do with this…Donny?"
I thought about the errands. And the video games. And the fast driving in the car. Which one did he tell me not to tell? Then I thought about how mad he was going to be because he was going to think I told about us.
"I wasn't supposed to tell that we were friends," I said.
"It's important," she said.
I thought about how he'd squeezed my arm so hard it made marks. I looked at it to see if they were still there. Then my mother leaned over and lifted my sleeve. "What are these marks?"
"I dunno," I said.
"Did he hurt you?" She leaned even closer to look at my arm.
I yanked it away. "No! He didn't hurt me. I went in the wrong room. He was nice to me. He took me for fast car rides." My words just tumbled out of my mouth.
"Oh, my goodness," said my mother. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. "I need to call your father."
My mother got up and snatched her cell phone off the counter. I was so happy when she turned the timer off on the oven and went into the other room.
Now it was just me and Sam sitting at my kitchen table. I was glad not to have to talk about Donny anymore, but it was kind of weird to have Sam at my house because, well, it just was. Friends didn't come over to my house anymore. They used to—kids in the neighbourhood—but not anymore. Not since, like, grade four or something.
"So, what do you think about going to I Can Play this weekend?" Sam asked me. "Your mom said she would drive us."
"Sure," I said. "But only if you are going and we are going as Best Buddies." I twirled a paper napkin around and around and around, until it made me dizzy. Then my stomach growled. "I'm hungry," I said.
We have a huge pantry in our kitchen. One shelf is filled with food that I'm allowed, including taco chips. I pulled out the bag and brought it over to the table. Then I got some salsa out of the fridge. I held it up. "This is the hot kind."
Sam laughed and I sat down and we both ate some chips, right out of the bag.
"I promise I'll go back to Best Buddies," he said, in between bites. "I'll call Justin tonight. How's that? Or…" he pulled out his phone, "we could call him right now."
We called Justin and Sam put the phone on speaker. We chatted for a few minutes and Justin sounded excited that we were coming back. He kept saying how good the I Can Play event would be for me. Lots of running.
When Sam had pressed end, he took another chip but this time he didn't eat it and instead just cracked it into two. He looked at me and said, "Stay away from Donny. Okay? He is bad news. Like, really bad news."
I took a chip out of the bag and ate it without even looking at Sam. Donny had been nice to me, well, except for today when he'd hurt my arm. I looked at my arm and could still see red marks, and they looked like they might turn into bruises.
"He'll give you bruises like that on your face and body if you do something he doesn't like," said Sam. "If you see him again, promise me you'll run as fast as you can the other way, okay?"
I didn't answer but dipped my chip in salsa then ate it. "I've said enough," said Sam. "Anyway, I should get going." "How'd you get here?" I asked.
"I phoned your mom when I saw you get in the car and she came and picked me up and brought me over here."
"Mom!" I shouted out.
She came into the kitchen, holding her phone in her hand. "Stuart, what is it?"
"You need to give Sam a ride home."
She actually smiled for the first time since I had got home. "Okay," she said. "Why don't you come with us for the ride?"
On the way to Sam's house, we didn't talk about Donny and I was happy about that because I didn't want to talk about him anymore. But on the way home, my mother started in on me again about him.
"He's a known drug dealer," she said, "and you can't be hanging out with him."
"Okay, okay," I said.
"You didn't do any drugs with him, did you?"
"NO!" I screamed. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
So, we didn't. When we got home, everyone was at our house, and even Mary was over, even though it wasn't a night she usually comes over.
My mom and I walked into the house together and when Declan saw me he said, "You rode in Donatello's car?"
"His name is Donny." Then I thought about the car. "You should see how fast it goes," I said. "You'd love it."
"He's a drug dealer y'know. Everyone at school knows that." I shrugged.
"If you hang out with him you could go to jail," said Declan.
"Jail?"
"Declan, that's enough," said my mother.
"I wish we could get the guy on something," said Mary. She drummed her fingers on the counter as if she was thinking hard. "But everything is hearsay and nothing would stick. He'd walk. And this kind of thing could make him turn on Stuart."
My dad shook his head at her. "You're right. We have nothing at this point. It's only Stuart's word. Unfortunately, that won't fly. But he may slip up. I think we should talk to the school and get some sort of street surveillance. They need to know he's cruising around."
Mary took me by the shoulders and looked directly in my eyes. "You're a lucky, boy, Stuart," she said. "Having a friend like Sam." She pulled me in for a hug, but it was hard because of her big stomach.
"You're too big," I said.
She laughed for a second before she got serious again. "You stay away from him, you hear? Run like the wind if he comes close to you."
CHAPTER TEN SAM
It was Cecil who told me about Stuart and that Donatello guy. On Thursday, when I got to school I entered the front doors, my head down, my hands shoved in my pockets, and banged into Cecil. His hair was wet as if he'd just stepped out of the shower. I stared at him and felt a pang. That used to be me in the mornings, especially in the spring.
"Working out?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied. "Spring tryouts are on the weekend. Nelson wanted to work with me."
I nodded, remembering doing the exact same thing last spring with Coach Nelson. Early morning sessions before I tried out for spring league. I had juggled track and field (my specialty was the 100 and 200 metres) and basketball.
"Good luck," I said.
"Crap, man. I'm just gonna say it. You woulda been a shoo-in. Angelo's trying out too. Nelson thinks he might make it."
"Seriously? Angelo?" Angelo was good but needed work on foot speed.
"Yeah. Don't think th
e track team will pack the same punch as last year." He patted my shoulder. "We need you."
At least I was missed. For some reason that made me feel slightly better but also way worse. I held up my fist and he hit it with his. And just like that, the conversation about sports was a done deal.
We started walking to English class. What else could we talk about?
"You get your assignment done?" I asked. Lame conversation. Cecil and I didn't talk about school work. Ever.
Cecil nodded. "Done and done. I kind of liked the book I picked. Three Day Road. About World War I and a guy who gets hooked on drugs." He snapped his fingers. "That's what I meant to tell you. You need to get back to your little buddy. I think he's gonna be in a mess of trouble soon."
I frowned at Cecil. "What are you talking about?"
"He's hangin' with a baaaad dude."
"Stuart?" Stuart's parents watched him pretty closely.
Cecil looked at me and raised his eyebrows up. "I think I saw him gettin' in a car, behind the back of the school. Past the track area. Not good. The guy's name is Donatello Dunn and he was in my brother's grade all through elementary. He's nasty, into all kinds of crap. Gangs, robberies— seriously, he's on a path to jail. He's already spent time in juvie."
"Are you sure it was Stuart?"
"Not a hundred percent. That's why I didn't set off the alarm. But you may want to check in on him."
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