by Greg Fowler
He was just the Stupid Boy.
37. AFTERWARDS
Eddy sat there, shivering out in the cold for a long time. Even well after Mr Crowe had gone. Eddy had heard him charge back downstairs, yell something at Mrs Crowe and anyone else in hearing distance, before storming out of the house and slamming front door behind him.
Eddy thanked God for the small mercy that he’d chosen to walk off in the other direction. If he’d come the other way he might well have spotted him there in the tree.
Then he heard Mrs Crowe come quietly into the room above him. She was crying too. It was some small comfort to know that she was there for Reagan but his own cowardice still tormented him. He wanted to slap himself and pinch his arms until they bruised but even then his pitiful fear of being heard won through.
In the end Reagan left her bedroom with her mother and when Eddy heard her door close behind them he also feared for a door on their friendship. And he fully deserved it too.
It wasn’t until very late that evening that Reagan came back into her bedroom. Eddy had no idea what the time was but the moon was way up high and the street had been quiet for ages.
Her mother was with her for a while and although Eddy couldn’t hear what she was saying, it was all said in the soothing tones he himself often yearned for. Eventually she too left, turning off Reagan’s light and gently pulling the door closed behind her.
‘Reagan,’ whispered Eddy as loud as he dared…which wasn’t all that loud. He hadn’t heard Mr Crowe come back but you could never be too careful.
No answer.
‘Reagan.’ Just a touch louder this time.
‘Leave me alone.’
That was about the very last thing Eddy ever wanted to hear and it broke his heart. His fears had come to haunt his reality. Through his complete and utter failure as a friend, he’d lost her forever.
‘I’m s…sorry Reagan. I m…miss you.’ Eddy knew they weren’t good last words but they were all he had and so he slunk back down into his bed and sought simple solace with Mr Tree…except of course Mr Tree needed him more right now.
The following morning hit with a frost that lay crisp on the grass outside.
Eddy, who wasn’t in the habit of sleeping much these days, was up bright and early. He wasn’t exactly parked at the side window but he was never far away from it…just in case.
Reagan was sleeping in this morning and it was a school day too.
But she had to get up sooner or later and eventually she did. When Eddy plucked up what courage he had and went over to the window he found her with her back to him, playing with her dollhouse.
She hasn’t played with that thing for years.
‘Are y…you alright?’
‘Don’t look at me.’
‘Okay.’ Eddy didn’t know what else to say and in deference to her wishes he lowered his eyes despite her back still being to him. ‘Um…c…can we still b…be friends?’
Eddy held his breath. There it was, it was out there. Part of him wished he could take it back, that he’d never asked. What if she said ‘no’.
For quite some time though, nothing at all was said. Eddy tried to keep his eyes off her (something he didn’t entirely succeed with) and Reagan kept fiddling with that toy of hers.
‘Yes.’
The word came out of nowhere and Eddy second guessed himself a couple of times before he was sure he’d heard it.
She still had her back to him though.
‘D..do you want t..to talk about it?’
Reagan turned around and faced Eddy. One eye, her left one, was completely swollen over and it screamed at Eddy in violets and blues. She also had a nasty scratch along her right cheek and Eddy just knew, deep in his heart that that came from Mr Crowe’s wedding ring.
‘Daddy hit me Eddy.’ Reagan broke down. ‘Daddy hit me.’
Eddy was in that room in an instant, hell or high water. Mr Crowe could walk right on in as far as he was concerned. Nobody… NOBODY hit Reagan.
Just as she’d cuddled him when he needed it most, he cuddled her, holding her close to his chest and letting her just let it all out. There was nothing to say. The one thing she needed, and the one thing he could do, was to just be there.
That’s what friends did. That’s what best friends did.
Eddy made up his mind, right then and there, that he would let nothing get in the way of his friendship again. Not fear, not excuses and most of all, not stupidity. But he also knew, to make that happen he was going to need Mr Tree.
38. PUTTING IN THE HOURS
Reagan didn’t go to school for the rest of that week. Mrs Crowe didn’t go to work either.
Unlike Reagan, Mrs Crowe didn’t have any marks on her face but if Eddy was correct, she was walking with a limp. He reckoned she was a brave lady. Throughout the days while Reagan recovered at home she continued to smile at him and ask him how he was. Her eyes were sad though. Sad, not just because of what had happened to her and Reagan, but because she couldn’t hide it from Eddy and yet couldn’t bring herself to try and explain it to him.
Eddy wouldn’t class Reagan as necessarily happy but she did improve over time. It was good having her at home. He could keep an eye on her that way and while she didn’t always smile at his ‘silly Eddy jokes’, when she did, it was all worth it.
When she was sleeping or when she was downstairs with her mother, Eddy put in the hours with Mr Tree. He absolutely had to. He understood the tree was continuing to ‘take’ from him but, under the circumstances, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not for a million dollars and not for a million years.
There were no guarantees anything would come of it of course. Grandma Daisy might just have succeeded in her mission to destroy whatever it was that made Mr Tree so incredible, so magical. But, as Mrs Crowe had said once, where there’s a will, there’s a way.
The fact that the tree was taking something from him had to have some sort of meaning. It was sick and Eddy had the medicine from what he could tell. Only live patients were well enough to take their medicine. And what exactly did medicine do….it made you better. The logic was all in place.
The downside being that the logic in this case was a two edged sword. Logic also suggested that when something was taken from you, you were the lesser for it and that was certainly the case here. Eddy struggled through the days now. Like Mrs Crowe, he did his utmost best not to show it but it was getting harder and harder to hide it. Even Grandma Daisy had said he looked a bit peaky and that was saying something.
Reagan, despite fighting her own battles, had noticed it too and although she pressed him for what was wrong he wouldn’t tell her. If she knew she might try and stop him. She might even tell Grandma Daisy so she could put a stop to it and he couldn’t have that.
The last thing any of them needed to know was about the blood. Over the past couple of days, after a particularly long spell with Mr Tree, his nose had started bleeding, sometimes quite profusely. The only way he’d been able to hide it from everyone was to use one of his shirts as a towel. Thank goodness Grandma Daisy hadn’t noticed it missing yet but she was bound to sooner or later. It was stuffed in the back drawer of his desk and by now it was more blood than material.
He needed Mr Tree to be better. He needed that because, if Mr Tree got better, then everything would be well again. He’d be able to help people again. He’d be able to know things…and he’d be able to make it so Reagan would never, ever be hurt again.
39. WHAT ARE THEY?
Life had moved on, but not entirely.
Mr Crowe had returned and, for some reason Eddy couldn’t fathom, they’d taken him back in. Reagan told Eddy that her Dad had promised to be good and never hit her again. Not only that but he’d got himself a job too. Not a suit and tie job though. Dressed in old clothes, he’d get picked up every morning in a van and get dropped off every evening in old and dirty clothes.
Eddy never asked Reagan about that. It didn’t seem like the right thing to do.
On this particular day, with winter now struggling in fits and starts towards spring, Eddy and Reagan were back out on Mr Tree, sharing another load of good old jam sandwiches. Her bruise was a distant memory, at least physically, and she seemed to be in a happy go lucky mood. Just the way Eddy liked it.
As always, Grandma Daisy was tucked away downstairs somewhere and Eddy now knew where in fact that was. She was watching one of those TV thingies. Eddy hadn’t even known there’d been one in the house until Reagan had told him. She said she could see it through one of her downstairs windows and she also said that Grandma Daisy watched it for hours on end. If so, that was just fine by him.
‘Do you ever want anything different than jam?’
‘Nope. J…jam’s my favourite.’
‘Okay.’ Reagan shrugged her shoulders and tucked deep into her second sandwich. ‘We got honey.’ She said through a mouthful of bread.
‘J..just jam. Always jam.’
‘Fair enough. Guess what?’
‘What?’
‘Richard Duggan asked me out yesterday.’
‘Oh.’ That went way over Eddy’s head but if he had to take a stab, he didn’t like the sound of it.
‘In the cafe, right in front of everybody. Can you believe that?’
‘Nope.’
‘I said ‘no’ of course. You’re supposed to say no the first time.’
‘Oh.’
‘That’s what Molly says anyway.’
‘Wh…who’s R…Richard D…Duggan?’
‘He’s a boy at my school, silly.’
‘Oh.’ Eddy didn’t like this subject any more. ‘Are you going out today?’
‘Yep. Mum and me are going to the mall.’
‘Cool. Are y…you going to g..get that new music thing y…you wanted?’
‘I have to wait til next week for that. Mum says I don’t have enough money yet.’
‘Oh.’
‘Whew…it’s getting pretty warm out here.’ Reagan placed the last of her sandwich to one side, pulled her thick woollen jersey over her head and tossed it easily through her bedroom window before picking her snack back up and treating herself to the last bite.
‘Wh…what are they?’ asked Eddy curiously pointing at her t shirt.
‘What?’ replied Reagan looking down to where he was indicating.
‘Th…those.’
‘What?’
Eddy reached over and touched one of the things he meant.
‘Eddy!’ squealed Reagan, laughing a little at the same time. ‘Don’t touch that.’
‘Why?’
‘That’s my boobies.’
‘Y…your what?’
‘My boobies.’
‘What’s b…boobies?’
‘You know, like ladies have.’
Eddy thought about this for a few seconds and finally it dawned on him what she meant.
‘Oooh,’ he said with wide eyed wonder. ‘You mean those. Like Grandma Daisy.’
Grandma Daisy did indeed have very large ‘boobies’ but Reagan seemed quite perturbed by that.
‘If I ever get boobies like your Grandma I don’t think I’ll ever be able to walk straight again.’
‘Wobble, wobble,’ said Eddy out of nowhere.
‘Wobble, wobble,’ echoed Reagan as she wiggled what little chest she had and they both cracked up laughing…Eddy nearly choking on the last of his sandwich.
40. NATHAN’S RETURN
It was a school day but for some reason the big kids were getting out early. Eddy was at the front window anyway just in case Reagan wasn’t too far behind. That, and because he was too tired to move. His nose had bled so much today that he’d come close to passing out and it was only a reactive hand that had stopped him from hitting the floor.
So when Eddy saw Nathan approaching he registered it with a strain of resignation. He didn’t need this at the moment but, in all honestly, he just couldn’t be bothered moving. Not even enough to shift out of view.
His second best option, to play statue until Nathan passed by, almost worked too. But ‘almost’ was a long way from good enough. The boy that Eddy had once known as Bert as in Bert from Sesame Street, was for all intensive purposes past him when, for some unknown reason, he decided to check Eddy’s window out. And there of course, staring straight back at him, was Eddy.
Nathan slammed on the brakes and all Eddy could do was hold his breath and wait for the profanity. It had to come, especially after Grandma Daisy had sent him packing a few weeks back. What a hellish night that had been and it looked like he was still set to pay for it.
‘Hey.’
Well, at least that was better than Pissy Pants.
Nathan made a motion for Eddy to open up the window and figuring it was a lost cause Eddy did just that.
Might as well let him get it over and done with. Otherwise he’ll just start throwing stones again.
‘I got a question for you.’
Still no ‘Pissy Pants’.
Eddy stayed silent. The less he said the less he could get into more trouble with.
‘Why’d you tell me that stuff about the Battle of Borodino?’
Here we go.
‘P..pardon?’
‘The Battle of Borodino…remember, you told me it happened on September seventh, 1812?’
‘S…sorry.’
‘No, I didn’t say you had to be sorry. I asked you why you told me that stuff.’
‘I d..don’t know really.’ Nothing like a snippet of honesty to throw himself further under the bus.
‘Well whatever it was I guess I owe you a thank you.’ It came out a little begrudgingly, but it did come out, and it was most certainly not what Eddy was expecting.
‘Why?’
‘I passed my history exam by fifty one percent, that’s why. If I hadn’t of got that question right I would’ve been in a whole world of trouble.’ Nathan paused to bring himself back on track. ‘But what I want to know is how on earth you knew to tell me that.’
‘It j…just did. I don’t know wh…why. I promise.’
‘Whatever it was kid, thanks.’ Nathan smiled, he actually smiled. ‘History’s not my thing but I needed it get into University next year. Mum’s thrilled. She never thought she’d see one of her kids go to uni. She’s pretty much rung everybody she knows.’
It sure looked as though it was a satisfying thing to make your mother proud, but Eddy didn’t really know too much about that.
‘I suppose I’m the one that should be sorry,’ continued Nathan. ‘I, we, shouldn’t have done those things to you kid.’
‘Th…that’s okay.’ And all of a sudden it was.
41. EDDY!
‘Eddy!’
‘Eddy, can you hear me?!’
‘Wake up!’
‘Is he alright Mrs Sullivan?’
‘How am I supposed to know, I’m not a doctor. Eddy! Wake up this instant.’
‘Is he alright Doctor Philips?’
‘If I didn’t know any better I’d say he’s suffering acute physical exhaustion. The same thing marathon runners get hit with……’
‘Eddy. Eddy can you hear me? It’s me, Reagan. They’re giving you some medicine. Please be well Eddy. I need you.’
Eddy didn’t recall the hospital visit at all. Not even a snapshot. If what Reagan told him afterwards was true, and he had the scars to prove it, it was probably for the best. She said that they’ve put all sorts of stuff into him. Needles (really, really huge ones), tubes, machines…you name it, if it was in the hospital they put it in or on him in some form or fashion.
Reagan had visited with her mum every day, no exceptions. She even bought him a present with her pocket money. A watch. One that lit up in the dark. That way, she said, he would know when he shouldn’t be awake…as crazy as that sounded. Either way, that watch was about the coolest thing Eddy had ever seen, certainly a mile better than anything else he owned.
Now he was back at home didn’t mean he was to be up an
d about either. That was doctor’s orders. It was Grandma Daisy’s too. She hated hospitals she said, hated them with a passion. If he got sick again he was going to have to go back there by himself and that was a promise.
She also wasn’t high on the idea of having to pay him two extra visits every day. Three, as normal, for his meals and two more to give him his medicine…his yucky, yucky medicine. She’d come in like it was her that had to swallow the stuff, feed it down his throat and walk back out like there was no oxygen in the room or something. Still, figured Eddy, it was a whole lot better than having her sticking around.
In between Grandma Daisy’s laboured visits, if Reagan was home, his bestest friend ever was by his side. She’d also purchased a joke book and so they spent quite some time together as she sat on the edge of his bed and tried to find which one would make him giggle the most. And invariably she found out.
Just like she always did.
It was during one of these bedside sessions that Reagan appeared to have taken a quiet pill. Up until that horrible experience in her bedroom with her father, this sort of thing never happened. If anything, she’d always been the life of the party. More recently though, Eddy had noticed, she could be her happy go lucky self one minute and then switched off the next. It worried him to see that. No, worse than that, he hated it. He hated it like Grandma Daisy hated Mr Tree.
‘You are okay, aren’t you Eddy?’ Everything about her, from the solemn look in her eyes to the resigned slope of her shoulders had Eddy on notice.
‘Y…yeah. Of course I am.’ In all likelihood Eddy would’ve answered the same way if he’d had a snake attached to his eyeball.
‘You one hundred and fifty percent promise?’
‘One h..hundred and fifty one p…percent.’ Reagan didn’t smile at that. She didn’t so much as flinch. ‘Wh…what’s wrong Reagan?’
‘I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you, that’s all.’
That was, without doubt, the best and the worst thing Eddy had ever heard her say.