"Why is that good?"
"You're not in jail. Some kids said the cops arrested you. But they just PC'd you, right?"
"What?"
"Turned you over to parental custody."
"I guess that's what happened. I'm suspended for two weeks, and my dad grounded me."
"That's tough. So what are you going to do about it?"
"What can I do?"
"Get Ben to confess."
She makes it sound easy. "I already went over to his house. He didn't say anything about confessing."
"Tell him he's got to or you'll turn him in."
"I can't."
Tanya lets out a long sigh, which sounds like a hiss over the phone. "Why not?"
"I'm probably his only friend in the whole school. And his father will kill him."
"Did you spray anything, Dev?"
"No."
"Did you know he was going to?"
"No."
"Then why should you do time for something you had nothing to do with?"
"You mean you'd turn him in, if it was you?"
"Damn straight. And I'll tell you something else, if he doesn't turn himself in, I'll walk into Marion's office and do it for him." to go to Ben's. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson. I can't imagine the punishment Dad would put on me this time. What comes after grounding?
But Tanya's right. I shouldn't have to take the rap for something I didn't do. I'm not that good friends with Ben.
I get to his house and knock. A woman opens the door. She looks very nice, kind of like a nurse, not at all what I expected from what Ben said about his mother. A little kid is standing at her leg.
"Can I see Ben, please?"
She shakes her head. "He isn't here."
"Do you know when he'll be home?"
She shrugs and rubs the head of the kid. "He went to live with his father in Texas."
Texas. My witness is in Texas?
"He's coming back, isn't he?"
"He'll be going to school down there now."
This is bad. Ben could be gone forever, and I can't prove anything. "Did he happen to say anything before he left?"
"He said he was glad to go, that's all."
I'm going to die Wednesday, May 5,2060.
That's what deathclock.com says. It's a pretty cheesy Web site, actually. There's a skull with gears whirring behind it—I don't know what that's supposed to mean—and a gravestone inscribed with what else? RIP.
Anyway, Deathclock says I have 1,857,298,500 seconds left in my life, which seems more than enough for a person to do whatever he's going to do, especially if he doesn't have any idea what that is. Maybe I won't be a vet but instead a shrink for teenagers. They could come to my office and do whatever they want the whole session. It would be the one hour of the week when nobody was asking them stupid questions or telling them what to do. That would help kids, having nobody bugging them for an hour.
"Devon?"
It's Dad's voice, in the hall. He's home early. I'm lucky I made it back from Ben's in time.
"Yeah?"
He takes my answer as an invitation to open my door, which it wasn't. I quickly click out of deathclock.com. I don't want him to think I'm thinking about suicide or anything.
"Your headmaster called. He wants us to come right over to the school."
I check my watch. It's four-thirty. "What does he want?"
"I don't know. He called me at work and said for all of us to come over. We're going to pick Mom up on the way. Change into some school clothes, and hurry."
Dad's always telling me what to do like this—"Change!" "Hurry!" Just once in my life I'd like to hear him say "please."
The headmaster isn't smiling like I'd hoped when we walk into his office. This must be more bad news. Maybe they found a bomb in one of the classrooms and they're saying I planted it. Ben doesn't seem like the type of kid who would do that, but I didn't know he would spray the whole school, either.
EnglishAlgebraEarthScienceLunchFreePeriodGymClassicsDone. EnglishAlgebra ... If I can say this four times, I know everything will be all right. EnglishAlgebraEarthScienceLunch... Lunch—I'd love to go back to school just to eat with Tanya. That's what I miss the most.
"Devon?"
"What, Mom?"
"Take a seat."
Where was I? LunchFreePeriodGym...
"Mr. and Mrs. Brown, thanks for coming in so quickly."
Mom and Dad nod. What about me? I came over quickly, too. I'd liked to be thanked. GymClassics...
"I'll get right to the point. Some new information came to us this morning—appeared right before our eyes, you might say. And we've been following up on it for the last few hours. I thought you should see for yourself."
Here it comes—a pipe bomb, an Uzi, a hand grenade. And somehow my fingerprints will turn up on everything.
The headmaster steps up to the chalkboard at the back of his office and hits a button. Down drops a miniature movie screen. The first thing I see is a swastika. Mom gasps—she's been doing that a lot lately. Dad raps his fist on the arm of his chair. This is going to be terrible. English Algebra ... The screen keeps lowering. There are words on it, sprayed in black—"Benjamin," "fun," "Nazi." The screen stops, and the headmaster reads the whole message out loud: "I sprayed 'Nazi' all over the school, and it's the most fun I ever had at Baker. Benjamin L. Cavendish."
I read the message again myself. I can't believe it—Ben confessed! Something good is happening to me for once, and I didn't have to make it happen.
The headmaster turns to me. He's picking at the sleeve of his jacket as if there's something on it he can't get off. He looks kind of uncomfortable. Now he knows how I feel almost all day every day.
"As you can see, Devon, apologies are in order."
Apologies—I like the sound of that. So I'm waiting for the actual words, something like We were rotten and wrong for accusing you of doing such a terrible thing and suspending you and getting your parents mad at you. We'll never be able to make it up to you, but we'll try by letting you cut classes whenever you want and still give you A's.
But Marion turns to Mom and Dad, as if he's done with me. "You can imagine how surprised I was when I lowered the screen today. Shocked, actually. We had to rethink everything that went on here, and from what we now know it seems Devon didn't do any spraying of the school."
I look over at Mom. After a few seconds she looks back and gives me a smile. It's a sad smile, though, and I figure that's because she feels guilty for not believing me.
The headmaster moves behind his desk. "I'm sorry we put you through this, Mr. and Mrs. Brown. We thought we had proof—I think you'll admit it certainly appeared that your son was guilty."
Go ahead, Mom, give him a lecture about rushing to judgment. You're the lawyer. Maybe we can even sue the school ... for ruining my reputation—that's it.
"Things didn't look good, you're right."
No, Mom, he was wrong wrong wrong!
Marion rubs the side of his head as if he's got a big headache. "I guess there's a lesson in this for all of us."
Yes there's a lesson: Don't be so sure of yourself. Trust a kid once in a while. Don't convict him unless you know all of the facts. Even then, check the facts again!
Mom sits forward in her chair, "For all of us? What's the lesson for Devon—that adults have the power to judge and convict and punish, and we'll use that power however we want to?"
All right, Mom!
Marion hits the button that raises the screen, and the graffiti disappears. "Devon did admit he was at the school, Mrs. Brown, and he wouldn't turn in the perpetrator of the vandalism, which is a violation of our honor code. That would have warranted a suspension in and of itself. In light of the circumstances, though, I think he has been punished enough by the suspension. I'm reinstating him to school as of tomorrow."
The headmaster stands up. Mom and Dad stand up, too. Is this over already? They kept me in this office for hours when they thought I sprayed the school, and it's
only taken Marion ten minutes to sort-of apologize.
He sticks out his hand, and Dad takes it to shake. "What will happen to this boy Benjamin?" It seems odd to me that this is the only thing he would ask, something about Ben, not me, his own kid.
"He's in Texas now with his father, and I think Ben's going to get the help he needs down there. Mr. Cavendish admitted that he has to reconnect to his son in a more positive way. They're both going into counseling." The headmaster moves toward the office door, and we all do. It's like he's shoving us out. I can't believe it—Ben in counseling with his father. That doesn't sound like getting killed to me.
Mom stops. "Why 'Nazi,' though, Dr. Marion? Why did Benjamin choose that word to spray the school with?"
"That's interesting, actually. There's no evidence he's involved in any neo-Nazi group. Apparently he was calling people Nazis to strike back at them for the tough time he was having at The Academy. Frankly, he was flunking out, and I think this was his parting shot."
Dad turns to me. "Is that your understanding, Devon?"
I nod even though I don't think I understand any of this at all.
Everybody's quiet on the ride home. It seems to me we should be telling jokes and laughing it up. After all, their kid is no longer considered a "Nazi"-spraying wacko—that's something to celebrate. We can get back to my regular life, where we only have to worry about my OCD.
"So, we won't have to move now, right Dad?"
He looks over his shoulder, locks eyes with me for a moment, then looks back to the road. "That's right, son."
Son—it's been years since he's called me that. Maybe he doesn't like thinking he has a son with all kinds of obsessions. I'm not as crazy as I seem. I just have this disorder that the doc is going to get rid of with behavior modification. Actually, he said I'd be curing myself by using my willpower. I don't know how that's going to work, but I'll give it a try.
Mom turns half around in the front seat. "I wish you had told us or the school about this other boy, Devon. You shouldn't protect someone who commits a crime."
"He said his father would kill him, Mom, really kill him. That's why I didn't turn him in. I thought you'd believe me anyway."
She reaches through the opening in the seat to squeeze my arm. "I'm sorry, Devon. I can't explain why I was so ready to accept that you did this. I guess I thought it was just another odd compulsion that had gotten into you. I should have known that you weren't that kind of boy."
There, a real apology. When someone really apologizes, then you can forgive her.
I squeeze her hand back. "That's okay. I might not have believed me, either."
CHAPTER 27
I'm euphoric to be in school today. I wonder how many kids have ever felt that.
I don't even care that kids have been staring at me all morning. One girl said, "What are you doing here?" I started to explain, but the bell rang and she left. It sure got around fast that I was guilty of spraying the school. Now that I'm innocent, nobody seems to know.
So I get my lunch from my locker and I'm ready to head outside to my usual spot on the steps to meet Tanya. As we were walking out of English this morning she whispered that she had a surprise for me. I can't imagine what it is. With Tanya, anything seems possible.
I close my lock and pull down once to check it. When I look up, there she is.
"You ready, Dev?"
For some reason I think she means something more than to go eat. All of a sudden being surprised doesn't seem like so much fun. "I guess."
"Give me your hand."
"What?"
"Your hand, give it to me."
I hold up my right hand. Then her hand, black on the back side and pink on the palm, closes around it. "Let's go."
I start walking with her down the hall. "Go where?"
"We're eating in the cafeteria."
She's got to be kidding. I stop and try to pull away, but she has a good grip on me. "I can't eat in there. I told you that."
"Not only are we going to eat in there, we're buying lunch, you and me." She grabs the lunch bag from my other hand and tosses it in the trash barrel. "We might even sit at a table with other kids."
"No, wait a minute. You hate it, too. It smells rank. You'll probably gag and throw up."
"Just deal. If I can, so can you."
"But think of Alonzo." Alonzo! I whirl around, but there isn't anybody else in the hall. "You have to let go, Tanya. Alonzo's already jealous about you."
"I'm not his property. I'll hold hands with anybody I want."
"But what about me? Don't I get to pick who I hold hands with?"
"You don't like holding hands with me?"
I do like holding her hand. It feels strong and warm, like wearing a tight glove.
"I like it okay, but not..."
"Okay?"
"I like it a lot."
"Fine, then let's go in the cafeteria."
Everybody looks up when we walk in. Somebody whistles, and then a couple of kids clap. I keep my head down. If Alonzo's going to kill me, I want it to be a quick chop to the back of my head. I don't want to see it coming.
Tanya sticks her two fingers in her mouth and whistles.
"Listen up. Devon has something to say."
Everybody gets quiet. They're all looking at me. Tanya elbows me in the ribs. "Tell them you didn't do it."
"What?"
"You want everybody to keep thinking you sprayed their school?"
"No."
"So tell them you didn't do it."
I've never spoken to this many people at one time before. What if my voice cracks?
"I just want to say that I didn't spray the school. The headmaster knows that now, which is why he let me come back. I was in the building when the spraying happened, but I didn't do anything myself. I didn't even know the other kid was going to, and I'm sorry I didn't stop him. I guess that's all."
Nobody says anything. I don't know what I expect— Three cheers for Devon: Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Not likely. No one even claps for how brave I must be to make a speech like this. After a few seconds the kids go back to eating and talking to each other like normal. I guess that's good.
"There, that's taken care of. Now let's eat." Tanya pulls me to the food line. The sign over the entree section says "Meatloaf." That has to be the single most disgusting thing a school could offer.
She taps on the glass to get the server's attention. "We'll take two, please, with gravy."
"Wait, I'm a vegetarian, remember?"
"Okay, he'll have the fish."
The woman hands over the meatloaf to Tanya, then gives me a big plate of some gelatin-looking kind of white fish. Next to it are a few dried-out string beans and a ball of mashed potatoes, made with an ice cream scoop. This isn't going to be easy. At least there's a roll, and two pats of butter.
When we reach the ice cream cooler, Tanya opens the top and looks in. The vanilla cones are piled on top of one another. There must be twenty of them. She digs her hand through the vanillas and pulls out one from the bottom—chocolate.
The cashier looks at it, then Tanya. "That's chocolate, you know."
"Yes, I see that."
"You always buy vanilla, Tanya."
"That's true. I mean, that was true. I buy whatever kind I want now."
I grab a chocolate cone for myself and get my money out to pay. The cashier gives me a look like, "I haven't seen you before."
I figure I should explain myself. "I'm new."
"That's nice." She hands me my change, and I follow Tanya to the middle of the cafeteria. She sits at the end of a long table. A couple of freshmen are at the other end, but they don't look up.
I lean forward to smell the fish. You wouldn't really know it was fish if they hadn't put a sign on it. Tanya forks up a piece of her meatloaf and swallows it whole. I figure that's her way of not having to taste it. She cuts off another piece and then stops, her fork halfway to her mouth. "Oh, what a foul and unpleasant odor approaches."
"Nothing I can't handle." She sticks the meatloaf in her mouth and swallows.
"That's good." Alonzo reaches over my shoulder and takes the roll from my tray. That was the only thing I was going to eat. He punches me in the arm, but not very hard. "Nice speech you gave there, kid. But I knew all along you didn't do it. You don't have the cajones."
I nod that he's right, even though I don't know what he means. It always throws guys off when you agree with them when they're taunting you. Tanya waves her fork in the air. "This boy has all the parts he needs, Alonzo."
"You know that for a fact?"
"I know that for a fact."
I still don't know what they're talking about, and I'm sure not going to ask. They stare each other down for a minute, then he tosses my roll in the air and it splats onto my plate. "Have a nice life together." With that he leaves, the girl still hanging on his arm.
Tanya acts like nothing happened. She starts humming some song—loud humming, like she's in the chorus room.
I lean back in my chair and look up. The flags look colorful hanging from the ceiling. But the Japanese one with the big red circle in the center is twisted up at its base and doesn't hang as far down as the others. Felix should really get a ladder and fix that. I'll have to suggest it to him.
"You're not eating, Devon."
Okay, forget the flag. What's it going to do—fall from the ceiling and suffocate me? That's pretty unlikely. And if it is going to fall, I can't stop it. Mom's right. Bad things happen sometimes, and you can't stop them. But good things happen, too.
Tanya stuffs the last of her meatloaf in her mouth. I pick my roll out of the mashed potatoes and take a few bites. It's pretty soggy. Then I cut apart the fish and spread it around on my plate to make it look like I ate some.
Tanya dives into her ball of mashed potatoes with a spoon. In three mouthfuls she's done. I've never seen a girl eat faster. Then she unwraps her chocolate cone and takes a lick. "Delicious. Best ice cream I've ever had."
I tear the paper off my cone and lick. The chocolate tastes just regular to me, not good or bad. I guess Tanya's using her willpower to convince herself she likes chocolate now.
Not As Crazy As I Seem Page 14