How to Beat the Bully Without Really Trying

by Scott Starkey

  The walk to art was difficult. Rishi whispered, “What’s the matter with your legs?” I must have been walking funny.

  “Nothing,” I muttered through clenched teeth.

  We filed into art class and while everyone else went to sit down, I went straight up to Mr. Borus. “Can I go to the bathroom?”

  “May I,” he replied.

  “May I go to the bathroom?” I said correctly.

  “Yes, you may,” he answered. I zoomed out of the room and did some sort of speed duckwalk to the bathroom. I passed the sinks and urinals, went to the last of the three stalls, locked the door, and was about to unbutton my pants when I heard the boys’ room door smash open. Two voices made me temporarily forget my bathroom woes. Toby was speaking and Josh was grunting.

  I felt uneasy, to say the least. Despite his leaving me alone, Josh was still big and seemed to hate me with his whole heart. Hearing Toby spitting out my name made a scary situation considerably worse.

  “I’m telling you, Josh, Rodney’s nothing.” I caught my breath. I probably could have walked out past them, given them a mean look, and been out of there, but I froze and stood quiet.

  “You keep saying that, but I don’t seeing you doing anything,” Josh bitterly reminded Toby.

  “I’ve tried everything! I got him to go into the McThuggs’ yard, I got . . .”

  Josh interrupted him. “Yeah, Tobe, I was there for most of it. How did all those things turn out? I seem to remember the McThuggs running away from him. He hung out in Old Man Johnson’s for like an hour and who knows what he did to Mrs. Lutzkraut that day of the play! You said you had him with those dumb tights. . . .”

  Toby responded, “I did. It was all set. Yellow tights, my dad recording it, how was I . . .”

  “If he’s nothing, then how’s he doing all this stuff?” Josh finally asked. I was curious too. All my attention was on their words and I had forgotten about my other issues.

  Toby said, “I mean, he’s not tough. He’s smart. He seems to be able . . .”

  “Not tough! Are you saying I’m not tough?” I heard some shuffling and what sounded like a choking sound.

  “Nouunnnnnhh no yaaaarr,” Toby tried to speak, but something, or someone, was making it difficult. Finally after some coughs and sniffs he wheezed, “Man, you didn’t have to do that. You’re the toughest here. That’s my point! Gosh!”

  Josh grunted and said, “For not being tough, he managed to break my nose and knock me out, remember?” As he said “remember” it sounded like he shoved Toby into the wall. “I had a headache for a month,” he continued. “I’m not getting hit like that again. Maybe you should try to fight him if you’re so confident.” There was a long silence. “That’s what I thought.”

  In listening to their conversation I had forgotten that another part of me had something big to say, and when it came out it would be no silent squeaker. It would be a big blast. I knew I was caught but jumped up onto the toilet to hide my legs.

  “Who’s in here?” Josh screamed. I didn’t say anything, convinced that I was finally done for. When they caught me in the stall hiding, they’d know Toby had been right, that I wasn’t a tough guy. What tough guy hid in a bathroom stall?

  “Who’s in here?” Josh demanded a second time. “Toby, look under there!” Fear had me like a vise. Almost in a trance I stopped breathing and looked at the graffiti and boogers on the back of the door and held my breath.

  “There’s no legs,” Toby told Josh.

  “Kick the doors open!” Josh yelled. Toby must have paused, for Josh continued, “Out of my way. I’ll do it!” Just then I heard the first of the three stalls slam open hard. The whole frame seemed to shake and some plaster fell from the ceiling onto my hair.

  “I’ll do the next one!” Toby sniped. They were at the second stall. Soon they’d be up to mine, and I’d be done for. I heard the kick but it seemed as if the door hadn’t opened at all.

  “Nice kick, girly.”

  “Well,” Toby whined defensively, “I think it’s locked.”

  “Oh, is it? Then I’ll kick that lock right off.” A deafening explosion shook the bathroom. The door of the stall next to mine practically flew off its hinges. “Looky, looky. Well it seems this little kid’s been listening to us. You been listenin’?”

  “Ahh,” a little scared voice squeaked.

  “That’s what I thought. What should we do with this little spy, Toby?”

  “The toilet’s right there,” Toby suggested.

  “You know, Tobe, I knew there was a reason I liked you,” Josh answered.

  At this point the kid, whoever he was, started crying and made a break for it. I heard him trip and fall flat to the floor but he was up in an instant and out the door. Josh and Toby were cracking up.

  “Hey look!” Toby laughed. “Diarrhea of a wimpy kid.” That got them laughing even harder.

  “Just like old times,” Toby said as the laughs dwindled.

  “Good times,” Josh answered.

  “Times that could come again, if only someone was taken care of,” Toby said, getting more serious.

  “You’re back to that now, Toby?”

  “Josh, if I can prove that Rodney isn’t all that tough, will you pound him? Just think about how good we had it before.”

  There was a long pause, but finally Josh replied, “Toby, if you can somehow prove that, well, there’s no one I’d rather hurt than Rodney Rathbone. It’d be a dream come true.” They were both quiet for a minute. Then Josh added, “I’d better get back to class.”

  “Oh man, Mr. Borus is waitin’ for me, too. Let’s go.” After a minute the door slammed shut, leaving me in silence. It wasn’t silent for long, however. With an explosion that almost shook the tiles off the walls, I finally did what I had come in there for.

  Chapter 17

  THE MOVIES, GIRLS, and CANNIBALISTIC DEATH MUTANTS

  So, I was dead meat. I would have to be careful around Josh and Toby. I’d need to be tough in every way. I couldn’t walk into a trap or let anything distract me. I’d focus completely on the situation. Nothing would break my concentration . . . not blond hair blowing in the breeze, not blue eyes looking over at me, not even a sly smile in my direction. . . .

  Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, I couldn’t let anything distract me. But it was such a pleasant distraction, and no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts kept returning to Jessica—and this problem I was having. You see, while I should have been walking around flexing my muscles, giving Toby menacing looks, and e-mailing bad articles about Ohio to Rocco’s mother, I spent half the time trying to get closer to Jessica. Only whenever I did, Mrs. Lutzkraut or Greg or Kayla or even Rishi would somehow foil my moves. Then one day I got my chance. It came in late March during recess when I happened to overhear the girls talking.

  “Let’s go to the movies on Saturday,” Kayla was telling Samantha and Jessica.

  “I’m in,” Jessica answered. “What time?”

  I moved a little closer, wanting to hear more.

  “We should go early, maybe right after dinner,” Kayla suggested. “Let’s find out when Animal Boy is playing. I hear it’s so funny. Ask your parents and let me know tomorrow. I’m sure my dad can drive us.”

  This was getting interesting. Running into Jessica “by accident” at the movies would give me a chance to see her without Mrs. Lutzkraut or that jerky Greg lurking over my shoulder. Everyone, including my three best friends, had really started to like Greg, but not me. He was my competition, and I was suspicious of his surfer charm and permanent tan.

  Back in class, I fought off thoughts of movie theaters and girls and tried to listen to Mrs. Lutzkraut’s boring math lesson, but after a few minutes I looked over at Jessica. My mind immediately went to Saturday. If only I could see her at the movies, I could talk to her for a while and maybe even sit next to her in the dark theater. . . .

  “Rodney!” snapped a familiar, nasty voice.

  “Yes, Mrs. Lutzkr
aut?”

  “What do you call the bottom number of a fraction?”

  “Jessica,” I blurted out. I meant to say denominator, of course, but it was too late. The whole class started laughing and I could feel my cheeks get red hot. Rishi was whooping, the girls were giggling, and Greg was rolling his eyes. Jessica, by the way, was also a bit red and looked down into her textbook.

  “That’s enough!” Mrs. Lutzkraut snapped and the room silenced even faster than it had erupted. “Rodney, are you allergic to paying attention? Maybe you’ll be able to learn the parts of a fraction if there are no young ladies around to distract you. Plan on joining me for recess tomorrow!” I almost said, “Great, I’ll bring the chocolates,” but thought better of it and kept my mouth shut for the rest of the day.

  On the bus ride home my friends teased me about my answer in math. Rishi kept asking, “What is the least common Jessica of one-half and two-thirds,” which even made me laugh. After a while, though, I was ready to change the subject and decided to bring up the movies. My friends thought going on Saturday was a great idea, and Slim and Dave agreed that Animal Boy was a good choice. Rishi, however, wanted to see Cannibalistic Mutants of Death Eat New York.

  “That movie looks so dumb,” I said, wanting to be near Jessica on Saturday and, just as important, cannibals and mutants didn’t sound like my idea of a good time.

  “Are you kidding? It looks awesome,” Rishi replied.

  Slim added, “Yeah, you get to see them eat brains!” That not only spooked me, it turned my stomach.

  “I think it’s rated R, though,” Dave pointed out. “We can’t get into that show.”

  Way to go, Dave, I thought. Eventually Rishi agreed that Animal Boy wasn’t a bad second option. All we needed to do now was check with our parents and get someone to drive.

  Later that night at the dinner table I brought up the movies. My parents didn’t mind, so I asked if they could take us. My dad, who was making a puddle of gravy in his mashed potatoes, acted like he didn’t hear me. My mom, however, made a face.

  “I don’t know, Rodney. I made plans to have the Windbaggers over for dinner that night. . . .”

  “I’ll take you boys!” my dad volunteered, practically spitting out his pork chop. His hearing had suddenly improved.

  “Donald, you know Fred and Ethel are coming over, and Fred wants to talk to you about insurance, remember?”

  My dad looked like he was trying to swallow something rotten and replied, “This is our son we’re talking about here. I’m most concerned with his well-being, and if I have to sacrifice a couple of things that I’ve been looking forward to . . . well . . . that’s what being a parent is all about. Isn’t it?”

  My mom sighed. I doubted she was buying any of my dad’s nonsense, and I really didn’t care. All I knew was that my plan had been set in motion.

  As I walked away from the dinner table, Penny followed me into the den. “What do you want?” I asked. “You’re not coming to the movies with us!”

  “No kidding. I was going to tell you something important, but never mind now.”

  “What could you possibly tell me?” I teased her. “That you’re mean and short and . . .”

  “Greg is planning to ask out Jessica.”

  “What?” I yelled. I felt the blood drain from my face, but not wanting her to know how I really felt, I asked more calmly, “Really? That sounds nice. I doubt she’s interested in him, though. Anyway, how do you know so much?”

  “I’m friends with his sister, Sunshine.”

  “Sunshine? What kind of name is that?”

  Penny frowned. “It’s a nice name, and Greg’s like the best-looking kid in town, so I know she’s interested. I thought I’d tell you so you can give up on her. Not that you had a shot anyway . . .”

  “I got a shot! Uhh, I mean I’m not interested so it doesn’t really make any difference.”

  “Then how come you say her name when you’re sleeping?”

  “What? I don’t do that!” Do I? I thought.

  She was smiling at me now, clearly enjoying the moment. “Have nice dreams tonight, Rodney.” She walked off to her room.

  I hated to admit it to myself, but I believed what she said. I wondered whether I really did have a shot at Jessica. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that my movie plan had better work. I kept going over it in my head. Before drifting off to sleep, I turned face-down into the pillow. It was hard to breathe, and I was pretty sure I’d suffocate, but at least Penny wouldn’t hear me calling anyone’s name out.

  Chapter 18

  FRIGHT NIGHT

  For almost an hour on Saturday my dad kept yelling up the stairs, “Aren’t you ready to leave for the movies yet?”

  “Relax!” I shouted back. “I told the guys we would pick them up at five and it’s only four thirty.”

  “Well, it’s always better to arrive early than late,” he muttered nervously.

  “I wonder if the Windbaggers feel that way about their dinner invitation,” I teased him.

  My mom had invited them to come a bit later so my dad could see them. Now he was in a complete panic. “Let’s get a move on, Rodney!”

  The truth of the matter is that I was busy looking for just the right shirt to impress Jessica and had even spent a little extra time on the hair. To my father’s great relief we finally headed out to pick up my friends. I noticed Rishi eye my slick hair as he got into the car, but luckily he kept his mouth shut. I was nervous enough about how I’d act with Jessica without him teasing me. Heavy raindrops began pelting the windshield as we drove off to the big multiplex theater at the mall.

  Most of the way there, Dave and Slim were quiet while Rishi kept up a steady conversation with my father. I, on the other hand, split my thoughts between hoping we would run into the girls and praying we didn’t run into any undesirable types, like Greg the Magnificent. Suddenly I focused on what Rishi was saying to my dad.

  “The movie you’re seeing, Mr. Rathbone. What’s it called again?”

  “What?” I shouted. “Dad, you can’t go to the movies with us!”

  “Relax, son. What I said is that I’m seeing a documentary on fast food. Apparently, they’re finding that some of that stuff is bad for you.”

  Even if it was a different movie, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about my dad being under the same multiplex roof. Not tonight, at least. “Aren’t the Windbaggers coming over?” I reminded him.

  “Well, I thought you might need an adult around tonight.”

  “Dad, we don’t need . . . ,” I began.

  “Now, now. I don’t plan on holding your hand, but it’s important for parents to spend time with their children, and tonight is a bit dark and stormy. Look at that thunder and lightning. What kind of a father would I be if I just dropped you off?”

  I knew my dad too well to buy this whole noble act. “Trying to avoid an insurance conversation?” I asked him.

  “Like the plague,” he replied.

  By the time we got to the mall, it was pouring and the sky was as dark as night. We made a dash for it through the parking lot and a lightning bolt hit so close that some car alarms went off. I hoped the storm wouldn’t keep the girls away.

  After buying the tickets, we hung out in the lobby for a minute until my father walked off. I saw Rishi look down the corridor that had entrances to the different theaters. I, too, was looking for something, and there by the orange neon lights of the concession counter I saw her.

  “Guys, do you want to get popcorn?” I asked.

  “What do you think, Rodney?” Slim asked while pushing me aside. “Extra butter, here I come!”

  As we approached where the girls were standing, Samantha noticed me and called out, “Hey look, it’s our star math student in person.” Everyone laughed.

  “Is Greg with you guys?” Jessica asked. That one pierced my heart like a dagger.

  “No, he isn’t,” I said flatly.

  Kayla walked over. “Hi, Dave. Why
don’t you sit with us?”

  “Sounds like a great idea,” I blurted, a little too enthusiastically.

  Rishi put his arm around my shoulder and whispered, “I see what you’re up to, but you’d better leave the rest to me. I’m the professional here and I have an idea that will get Jessica right where you want her.”

  Before I could ask what he was up to—I never trusted Rishi’s bright ideas—the multiplex suddenly went dark and thunder boomed through the walls. All the girls screamed and my heart started racing. With a flicker, the lights came back on. “That was weird,” I said to Rishi, secretly relieved. “Anyway, what’s this idea you were about to mention?”

  The popcorn guy interrupted us with, “What you want?”

  “Everything,” Slim answered. By the time he finished blowing a year’s worth of allowance on junk, it was my turn. I ordered an ultra-mega popcorn and something called a Super-Vente Deluxe Coke, which cost like twenty bucks and was the size of a fish tank. I turned back to Rishi but he was already heading off.

  We rejoined the girls, handed our tickets to a yawning teenager, and began walking down the long blue hallway where we could see the sign for Animal Boy lit up at the end. I was thinking about how I was going to sit next to Jessica when Rishi set his plan in motion.

  “Look, guys, there’s no one around,” he began.

  “So?” Kayla asked.

  “Don’t you see? We can sneak into Cannibalistic Mutants of Death Eat New York. It’s starting in two minutes.”

  “It’s rated R,” I reminded him. The last thing I needed was some scary movie.

  “Actually, it’s not R,” Kayla pointed out. “It’s PG-13. Look at the sign.”

  “Excellent!” Rishi shouted. “Let’s go in. The two movies are on at the same time. The Mutants will rock—”

  “Yeah,” I interrupted, “but I’m not sure the girls really want to see Cann—”

  “I’ll check out the Mutants,” Jessica announced, and that ended that.