by Bryan Mosier
I was sitting in Mrs. Carver’s Spanish room. I did not have Spanish on my schedule but that was where my buddies were hanging out before school started and Mrs. Carver did not seem to mind us being there since she was too busy posting selfies to any one of the many online dating sites that she was on. Alex and I were sitting in the back of the room talking with Tony and Paul, looking at the latest bunch of comic books that we had just gotten. I was showing off my latest treasure, a rough, mangled copy of Hulk number one-eighty-one. To look at it you would think that the only thing it was good for was lining the bottom of a bird cage. Its cover was hanging on by half a staple and the pages were all yellowed and torn but in my eyes it was the most precious thing I owned. Hulk one-eighty-one was the first appearance of my favorite comic book character, Wolverine. With his bad ass healing factor, razor sharp claws that popped out of his hands and a snarky attitude to match his tough as nails demeanor, Wolverine was everything that I wished I could be. Now, I do not know what made Marshall and his crew decide to come into that classroom that day. Maybe it was just a random happenstance but more likely he felt a glimmer of happiness in the universe and decided that he just had to stomp it out. When he walked through the door, like a Dementor you could feel the warmth and happiness leave the room.
“Well well, what do we have here? Looks like we have our own little comic convention going on. Don’t you boys think it’s time to grow up and put away the kid stuff. I mean come on, comic books are for little kids.”
I do notknow what came over me at that moment but the words just blurted out of my mouth before I could stop them. “That isnot true. They have some really good, serious messages sometimes.” Having someone disagree with him must have been a new experience for Marshall because the look on his face was one of complete and total shock. Shock mixed with a whole lot of anger.
“Really? I had no idea” was his response. Now, I have to admit, I was taken aback by the calmness ofhis tone. He seemed genuinely…interested. “Could you show me what you’re talking about. Have you got any good ones there that I could look at?”
Feeling a sense of relief and maybe even a little bit of empathy for him, I proudly presented my most prized possession.“Here, look at this one I said with pride. I think you will like this one.”
When he took the comic from my hands I could see in his eyes that I had made a terrible mistake. Where in one instant I saw curiosity and interest I now saw only a cold indifference mixed with genuine disgust. “So this is a really good one huh? You know what I think this is good for?” he asked. Taking the comic book in one hand he slowly crumpled it up in his fist. I tried to tell him to stop but the site of my treasure being destroyed caused the words to get caught in my throat. Not satisfied with merely destroying the thing I loved he continued. “I don’t even think this is worth wiping my ass with? Let me see.” Then, taking the crumpled remnants of the comic he stuffed it down the back of his pants and, lifting his left leg slightly and grunting loudly he filled the room with a sound and noxious odor that was bad enough to even pull Mrs. Carver away from her current Craig’s list encounter. Pulling the comic out of his pants he tossed it onto the desk where I was sitting. There it was, my treasured copy of Hulk one-eight-one, the first appearance of Wolverine, crumpled and torn and now sporting a terrible brown stain across the front cover. I could feel my face turn red and am sure that the heat coming off of my cheeks could be felt by everyone around. Tears of anger, no, more like tears of pure hate started to roll down my face. As he stood there with his friends laughing, all I wanted was to tear into him with all the ferocity of a trademark Wolverine berserker rage. But I did not. I sat there, humiliated. He kept laughing as he and his crew walked away. And I…I just sat there, wishing I had the strength the fight back.
“Hello Marshall, how have youbeen?” says Justin as he slowly walks up to the animated corpse that was once his high school nemesis. “Looks like you are having a pretty rough way of it. What, you not feeling so well?” Casually checking the pressure on his hand held air nailer, Justin strolls up to the stumbling form of the zombie that was once the person he hated most in life. Looking for the slightest glimpse of recognition and seeing none, Justin shakes his head and calmly puts the nailer under the zombie Marshall Henderson’s chin and pulls the trigger two times in rapid succession and then, after a brief pause to allow a grin to creep over his face pulls the trigger one more time. With a quick thud, each nail blasts out of the nailerand into zombie Marshall’s head, each one exploding through the top of the skull, stopping half way, the final one coming to rest between the first two. Miming smoking a cigar, Justin looks into the now even more deadened eyes of the zombie Marshall Henderson and says“Take that, Bub” and with a quick verbal“Snikt” turns to find his next victim.
Chapter 26
As Bryan takes in the site of the gymnasium filled with his former classmates dressed in their varsity jackets that they cherished more than anything else when they were alive the memories of past assaults come rushing back. Looking through the crowd of rotting faces he spots the one lone figure that he most wanted to find among the throngs of the undead. There, in the back, stumbling around aimlessly, now quite literally as he metaphorically did the four years Bryan new him in high school, is the unmistakable black quaff that could only belong to the despicable Steve Warnock. Standing a full six and a half feet tall his skinny frame stands out even among this mass of undead inhumanity. “Steve Warnock” whispers Bryan,“even now you’re still a goofy looking bastard”. As the memories come rushing into his mind from a place long buried deep in the darkest parts of his subconscious, Bryan is transported back to a day and a moment that has haunted him since his sophomore year.
The day was special. It was one of the few times in all the years that he had been in school on Halloween. It was his favorite day of the year, and, rather than on a weekend it had finally fallen on a day that they were actually in school. Better yet, the principal, for whatever reason, maybe he got laid the night before or his doctor finally upped his dose of Prozac, had decided to allow the students to wear costumes to school that day. What could be better? Getting to dress up as your favorite character and show the rest of the student body just how cool you really could be in your own unique way. And what costume was he gonna choose? That was as simple a decision as any he had ever had to make. Doctor Who was one of his favorite shows of all time. Now, a lot of people like Doctor Who and they get all giddy at the mere mention of a TARDIS and especially so when you talk about the new guys playing the role. There was that bald guy with the leather jacket that was oh so dark and then there was the skinny guy jumping all around yelling something about being all“timey wimey” and then there was the young guy with the really big chin and most recently the old Scott with the crazy eyebrows but in his opinion, Bryan considered them all mere interns compared to the one true Who played by the legendary Tom Baker.
With his floppy hat, brown coat and trademark oversized scarf,Baker’s look was as iconic as Indiana Jones’ fedora or Spock’s pointy ears and Bryan had everything he needed to make his costume as authentic as possible. The coup de grace came last year when his grandma had asked him what he wanted for Christmas. Knowing she was old and had a lot of time on her hands and was always up for a good knitting he told her he would like to have a handmade scarf. She seemed a little put off though when he told her the colors that he wanted though. She seemed to think the arrangement of red, yellow, blue and olive green stripes was a bit of an odd choice of colors and why did it have to be so long? There was no way he could wrap the whole thing around his neck and still be able to see over that much knitted fabric. She thought the whole thing seemed a bit odd and out of style for someone his age but she went along with it anyway. When Christmas morning came around Bryan went straight to the soft, lumpy present from his grandmother and tore into it. When he pulled the scarf out to take a look he was awe struck by how perfect it was. Holding it up to his face, both ends nearly dragging the fl
oor, he immediately wrapped it around his neck and in that moment he was the Doctor.
Now, the day he had been waiting for had finally come so when he got dressed for school that morning, he did so with an excitement and enthusiasm that he had never had before. Most days he moaned and groaned about having to go to school because he knew at some point he was going to be the butt of someone’s prank. But not today. Today he was going to astound everyone with his amazing costume and so he wrapped the scarf around his neck and placed the oversized floppy hat on his head and started off to school. Walking up to the front door of the school he was greeted by Alex, dressed in a respectable if not totally accurate, attempt at a Cyberman costume that consisted mainly of aluminum foil and a grey t-shirt and Justin in his perennial interpretation of a Dalek with the head of a plunger strapped to his forehead. The look on their faces when he approached was everything he had dreamt it would be. The oohs and aahs were audible and he was greeted with high fives all around. Now having his crew of likeminded Whovians with him they went on into the school with the expectation of a similar greeting. As soon as they walked through those front doors, Bryan knew that this day would not be the joyful experience he had dreamt of. Looking at the throngs of other students as they were passing to and fro, Bryan couldn’t see a single other costume among them. What he did see were confused looks and faces with mocking smirks accompanied by the sounds of snickers and laughter with the occasional finger pointing at him and his friends. Looking around at the others he tried to hide his embarrassment with a forced laugh and a“Looks like everyone else missed the memo.”
Deciding to roll with it, he started down the hallway to his locker so he could get his books for first period. Fumbling with the hand me down combination lock that had been used by who knows how many generations of his family that had passed through the halls of the school he opened his locker and, digging through the mountain of old papers, each one marked in bright red with one comment or another that, when boiled down to it, essentially informed him that he was lazy and needed to apply himself.
Pulling the ragged Biology book out from the bottom of the pile, papers spilling out onto the hallway floor and on top of the poor freshman who was unlucky enough to have his locker under his, he shut the door and turned to go to class. Looking down at his book Bryan turned but was suddenly stopped as he pressed into the tall slim figure of another student standing behind him. Looking up from his book his heart sank and a knot formed in his stomach as he recognized the towering individualstanding before him with his overly stylized black quaff of hair that shined in the fluorescent light of the hallway from the heavily applied layers of hair product. Steve Warnock was a sophomore and already a star on the school’s basketball team. By all rights he should have still been playing on the junior varsity team but because of his height and more than a few family connections within the administration, Steve was already in the starting lineup for the varsity team. By any account, to look at Steve most people would use words like awkward or gangly or lanky to describe his physical appearance. His face didn’t do much better forhis image either with its prominent beak nose, sunken cheek bones and almost completely lacking of anything resembling a chin. How this guy wasn’t the butt of every joke imaginable was beyond rational comprehension thought Bryan. “I guess having money and connections really does make a difference” he thought to himself.
“Hey there little man” came the falsetto voice, yet another reason why Steve’s popularity among the high school elite was a mystery. Steve in actuality was only about three or four inches taller than Bryan who outweighed him by a good fifty pounds but what he lacked in physical attributes he made up for in cocky arrogance.
“What’s going on Steve?” asked Bryan, trying to make sure his voice was strong to at least give the pretense of confidence.
“What, uh, is that you’re wearing there? Some kind of costume?”
“Yeah, it’s, um, y’know, Halloween so I thought I’d…” stammered Bryan, already angry with himself for the hesitation in his voice.
“Halloween. Don’t you think you’re a little old for costumes? I mean that’s something that little kids do ain’t it?” asked Steve, a grin of perfectly straight white teeth forming a sinister, upward arching crescent on his grossly proportioned face.
Regaining a little of his confidence and feeling the need to live up tothe character of his fictional idol, Bryan lifted his head straight and said“No. Certainly not. I think if it makes you happy you should be able to do whatever you want.”
“Really?” was Steve’s response.“That’s interesting. I’ll have to remember that”, and with that, Steve and his friends walked off down the hallway.
Feeling vindicated and somewhat proud of himself for educating Steve on the rights of individual expression Bryan went on to his first period class. The next two class periods went off without a hitch. In third period, Mr. Sargent, the computers and video game design teacher, an avid Star Wars fan and self-proclaimed geek, was even in costume wearing his awesome, totally authentic to the movie Obi-Wan Kenobi costume complete with his movie replica light saber. When the bell rang for third period to be over Bryan was feeling pretty good about how the day was going. Being fourth period Bryan had first lunch so that meant it was time to meet up with Alex and Justin and some other friends to go to the cafeteria. Today was Tuesday so that meant chicken nuggets and chicken nuggets meant mashed potatoes and mashed potatoes meant that they would have that unhealthily bright yellow gravy that Bryan loved to smother his plastic lunch tray in. Turning down the hall towards the cafeteria Bryan was completely oblivious when suddenly from the boy’s restroom two pairs of hands grabbed him, dragging him into the dank dimly lit room.
Looking up from the wet tiledfloor, Bryan knew immediately that this was not going to end well for him. Standing over him, looking even taller from his worm’s eye view from the restroom floor, Bryan saw the unmistakable form of Steve Warnock. To his left and right were two other boys, each wearing the same varsity jacket as Steve and the same sinister grin on their faces.
“Um, what…what…are you guys doing?” asked Bryan, his voice betraying his high levels of anxiety and fear.
“Oh, we’re just exercising our rights is all.” said Steve.
“Rights?” asked Bryan, his voice starting to tremble.
“You know. Like you said. If it makes you happy, everyone should be able to do what they want.”
“Um, I was talking about…” starts Bryan but Steve interrupts before he can complete the thought.
“You know what makes me happy? Do ya? Let me show you.” And with that three pairs of hands start grabbing at Bryan, tugging and pulling at his clothes. Bryan, trying to resist started kicking and punching at each of the boys as they pulled at his clothes. With a sharp tug, one of the boys managed to get Bryan’s shirt over his head but in doing so dragged Bryan up onto his knees. Seizing the opportunity Bryan, swinging with all his might managed to make contact with the nose of the other boy as he leaned in to continue the assault. Pain shooting through his hand Bryan was surprised when the calamity suddenly came to a halt. Looking up from the floor, disheveled and out of breath, Bryan could see that his punch had done more than he could have hoped. Blood was gushing from the boy’s nose and for a moment, Bryan felt vindicated and even a little proud that he had managed to stave off the attack. It was when Steve and the other boy turned away from their injured friend and looked back at Bryan that he knew he was in for more trouble.
“You little piece of shit! You fucking broke his nose! You little piece shit!” came the repeated accusation, as if it were Bryan’s fault that theyhad chosen to accost him like this. “I’ll teach you, you fucking little piece of worthless shit!” Everything after that was a complete blur. The kicking and punching came on so fast that all Bryan could do was ball up and try to protect himself. By the time the two boys had tired of beating him, Bryan could barely breathe. When the pounding had stopped, Bryan had, for the moment, thoug
ht that he was lucky. Lucky to have just survived such an onslaught.
Not content to just do physical harm the boys started to rip and tear atBryan’s clothes again. Already having lost his shirt, the next thing to go was his shoes, then his pants and finally, Bryan found himself lying on the wet floor of the bathroom, naked save for his now wet and blood stained underwear and clutching to the one thing he had left, the scarf that his grandmother had made for him that he cherished so much, now sodden with blood and sweat and a hefty serving of tears. Too weak to fight back, Bryan felt a new level offear as the two boys lifted his beaten body from the restroom floor. “Let’s go show everybody what a real loser looks like boys” said Steve. The short walk from the restroom to the cafeteria seemed to take forever as Bryan, unable to put up any resistance, was dragged naked through the hallway. Pausing for a moment outside the doors of the cafeteria Steve stopped to grab Bryan by the jaw, squeezing as hard as he could and saying“Happy Halloween mother fucker”. On that note, Steve jerked the door open hard and the two boys shoved Bryan’s battered, naked body into the cafeteria. Barely able to stand the only thing Bryan could do was to pull his tattered, soaked scarf around himself as the cafeteria burst into a loud cacophony of laughter. Tears began to run down his face uncontrollably as the laughter was punctuated with the occasional bit of mashed potatoes or chicken nugget being thrown at his quivering form.
Thinking back on the assault, how the three boys were hauled into the principal’s office together with Bryan, sitting alone in the lobby and remembering the farsethat followed. The boy’s had of course explained that it was just a friendly bit of horseplay that got out of hand when Bryan got mad and punched one of them in the nose. Tempers flared said Steve and, he admitted, got a little out of hand. But hey, boys will be boys, right? Seeing the principal’s nod of agreement was everythingBryan needed to know that nothing was going to be done. Hearing the principal say, though, that if any punishment were to be dealt out it would have to be to all parties involved meaning that Bryan could possibly get suspended as well. “Is that what you want?” was the only time the principal had directly addressed Bryan during the entire meeting. “No” was the only reply that Bryan could muster. “Well then, we’ll just leave it at that and put this whole thing behind us then” said the principal and with that Bryan got up and left the office. “You boys gonna beat those Red Devils tomorrow night” was the last thing Bryan heard as he closed the door and went on to class.