The Bully

by Paul Langan

“Deal,” Darrell said. He noticed the music had softened and people were pairing up to dance in couples. “You wannace?” he asked. He could not believe that he had said it. He was almost certain she would laugh.

  “Yeah,” she answered. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

  Darrell put his arms around Amberlynn’s waist and pulled her gently to him. He noticed that he was about as tall as she was, though when they first met, she seemed a bit taller. As he danced, he felt her warm hands around his neck. He did not want the dance to end. But then he saw a familiar face through the corner of his eye.

  Rodney was standing at the edge of the crowd of dancers. He was watching them, a tight-lipped grin plastered on his face.

  Darrell knew that if Rodney was around, Tyray was not far away. His pulse started to pound. He was not sure what to do. He did not want to tell Amberlynn he was afraid, but he did not want to cause another embarrassing moment for her like the one in English class. The slow song was ending and a faster song was already starting. Darrell knew he had to get away from Amberlynn or else both of them would be targets.

  “Amberlynn . . . I’ll . . . be right back,” Darrell said.

  “Where are you going?” she asked. He could tell by the look on her face that she was confused.

  “I have to tell Harold something. I’ll be right back.” He walked back to where he had been standing when he arrived at the dance. He could not see Harold or Rodney. The cafeteria was dark except for a few weak lights over the dance floor. Crowds of students seemed to bounce and sway in unison, and the beat of the music grew louder and more intense. Darrell felt like he was trapped inside a giant heart that pumped and throbbed around him. He was scared. The only idea he could think of was to find Mr. Mitchell. But he did not know what he could say even if he found him. Nothing had happened. Not yet.

  Darrell was moving quickly towards the hallway when he felt a large hand grip the back of his neck.

  “Why you in such a hurry, midget man? You and me got some talkin’ to do.” It was Tyray.

  Tyray steered him forward. Darrell was not sure where he was going until he was shoved into the men’s room. Several other kids came in. One of them stood outside the door to stop other kids from going in.

  “How much money did your momma give you tonight?” Tyray asked.

  “I ain’t got no money,” Darrell said.

  “Boy, don’t you lie to me! I ain’t playin’ games with you. I know you’re sweatin’ Amberlynn. I can make you the biggest fool in this high school. And I’ll drag her down there with you. She won’t ever look at your sorry face again, and the rest of the school will laugh every time you walk in a room.” Tyray stepped closer. “Man, everybody already knows you’re a scared little punk. What they don’t know is that you been payin’ me each week. When I tell everyone that, people will laugh so loud, they’ll hear about you and your poor sorry momma all the way back in Philly. Now whatcha gonna do?” Tyray growled.

  Darrell hated Tyray, but he feared him more. Three of Tyray’s friends, including Rodney, were in the bathroom. Darrell was cornered. He hoped a teacher would walk in and rescue him, but he was alone. He could not bear to think of what Amberlynn would say if she knew he gave money to Tyray each week. But most importantly, Darrell did not want Tyray to make fun of her.

  Slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out his mother’s change.

  “See, he ain’t as stupid as he looks,” Tyray said, creeping even closer to Darrell and grabbing the money.

  “Your momma must be real proud of you,” Rodney added wih a chuckle.

  “Now about Amberlynn,” Tyray said, gripping Darrell’s arm. Tyray’s friends also grabbed him, their arms like thick ropes preventing him from escaping. Darrell struggled, but he was unable to free himself from the three boys’ grasp. They yanked him over to the back of the bathroom where a large trash can stood.

  “Let go of me!” Darrell yelled.

  The boys lifted him off the ground and dropped him head first into the trash can. Darrell’s face landed on a pile of wet paper towels and empty soda cans. Darrell winced at the heavy scent of orange soda and the chemical detergent the janitors used to clean the bathroom.

  “You ain’t nothin’ but trash, Darrell. Remember that. Stay away from Amberlynn, or next time, it’ll be worse,” Tyray said. Darrell heard footsteps and then the sound of the bathroom door closing.

  Enraged, Darrell tried to pull himself from the can. With one great push, he managed to tip the trash can over, and he and all its contents spilled out onto the bathroom floor. Darrell stood up amidst the trash and saw his reflection in the mirror. Bits of paper were caught in his hair, and a soda stain marked his white shirt. Tears welled in his eyes. He never felt worse. Tyray and his friends were taking everything from him. And he was still too weak to protect himself. Wrestling had not helped him at all.

  A group of boys came in to use the bathroom.

  “Man, look at this guy,” one of them said. Another one laughed.

  Darrell stared into the mirror. A tear rolled off his face and dripped onto the tile floor. Darrell wanted to scream. He wanted to yell as loud as he could at the world for what it allowed to happen to him, for how it allowed Tyray to get away with everything. He wanted to curse God for allowing his world to be filled with so much torment. Darrell kicked the trash can, sending it smashing against the bathroom wall.

  Then, as the other boys left, Harold walked in.

  “Darrell, where you been? Amberlynn is looking . . . . What happened to you? Why you got trash in your hair?”

  “Leave me alone!” Darrell screamed, rushing out of the bathroom. He shouldered his way through the crowd, stormed down the hallway and made his way out of the school. He started to sprint as fast as his feet could carry him. He wanted to get away forever from the people who laughed when they saw him, who humiliated him when they got the chance. Darrell sprinted the mile back to his home, tears streaking down his face. The lights were out when he got back to the apartment. He went into his dark room, sat on his bed and quietly wept.

  Chapter 11

  On Monday, Darrell did not have to go back to school except for wrestling practice. The winter recess had come, and Bluford High was closed for the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. Darrell was grateful he did not have to set foot in a classroom for a while. He did not want to see Amberlynn. He was sure she was mad at him for leaving her at the dance. He wondered if she found out why he had left so suddenly. If she did, she was probably ashamed of what a coward he was. Still, Darrell was glad about one thing. At least he had spared Amberlynn from Tyray’s teasing.

  Darrell and his mother spent Christmas Day with Uncle Jason’s family. Despite a delicious dinner of fried chicken and mashed garlic potatoes and receiving a new outfit from his uncle and aunt, Darrell couldn’t wait to get home, away from his cousins’ constant bickering.

  It was the first Christmas Darrell had spent away from Philadelphia and his friend Later that evening, in the quiet of his own living room, Darrell remembered how he and Malik used to compare presents right after the holiday. He wondered if Malik would like the new Nike warm-up jacket his mother got him for Christmas. It seemed like years had passed since he stood on his street with his old friends. He was thinking about the last time he had seen Malik when his mother sat down next to him.

  “Darrell, is everything okay in school?” she asked. “I know I’ve been busy lately, but I am a little concerned about you.” She watched him as she spoke.

  He wondered why she seemed so worried. Maybe she had figured out what he was doing with the lunch money. Or maybe she wanted to know what he had done with the change he had from the dance. He did not want to lie to her, but he did not want to tell her the truth either.

  “You seem to be doing so well. Your grades are better this marking period.” It was true, Darrell thought. He had done better in school since he joined the wrestling team. “Jason and I are so proud that you are wrestling, and I was happy to see that
you wanted to go to the dance. That takes a lot of courage, especially for someone new to the school. But with all that, you still don’t seem happy. You walk around like you got something on your mind all the time. And every time I ask you, you say, ‘I’m fine, Mom,’ ” she said.

  Darrell turned away from his mother. He wanted to tell her the truth about the money and about Tyray, but he could not bring himself to do it. He just did not want her to worry, and he did not want her to tell Uncle Jason. He would only make Darrell feel worse about everything.

  “It’s just hard, Mom,” he said, fighting to stay calm. “It’s hard to get used to things out here . . . but I’m okay.”

  “Baby, if I can do anything for you, let me know. You’re not alone,” she said. Then she gave him a hug.

  But I am, Mom, he thought. I am alone. Who else is here with me?

  Two days after Christmas, Darrell came home from wrestling practice and heard a noise coming from his uncle’s garage. It sounded like kids yelling. He put his head up to the door and listened.

  “Lemme out!” a child cried. Darrell could tell it was his cousin Nate’s voice.

  “You gonna give me the remote control car you got for Christmas?” a second voice said. It was Travis.

  “Lemme out! I can’t breathe!” Nate screamed. There was terror in his voice.

  “Give me the car, and I’ll let you out,” Travis yelled back.

  “Please let me out! Somebody help me!”

  Darrell yanked open the garage door.

  In the dim light, he saw Travis sitting on an old wooden trunk that was pad-locked shut. The sound of Nate’s sobbing was coming from inside the trunk. Though it was dark, Darrell could see Travis’s eyes glistening slightly. “Let me out!” Nate begged.

  Darrell felt Nate’s pain. But what froze Darrell for a second was Travis. In his cousin’s young face, Darrell saw Tyray. He spotted his hateful smirk lurking maybe just a few years away. Darrell knew that if no one confronted and stopped him, Travis would grow up to be another Tyray. Darrell could not sit still. He could not allow a bully to get away with hurting another kid, especially in his own family. Despite what Uncle Jason had said, Darrell could not let Travis torture his brother.

  “Leave him alone!” Darrell yelled and walked into the garage. “Let him out of there now.”

  “My dad said not to listen to you. You can’t tell me whatto do,” Travis said defiantly.

  Darrell did not care what his uncle said. In one swift move, he yanked Travis off the trunk and pushed him firmly into the wall of the garage. “Give me the key to the trunk,” Darrell growled.

  Travis looked surprised. “Let me go!” he screamed. “I’m gonna tell my dad.”

  Darrell saw a shiny metal key in Travis’s hand and grabbed it. Quickly he unlocked the trunk and helped Nate out.

  “My dad’s gonna kick you outta your house and fire your momma. You’ll be poor like you were before you got here!”

  Just then Uncle Jason’s deep voice bellowed through the garage. “What’s the problem in here?”

  “Dad, Darrell’s pushing me around,” Travis whined.

  “He locked Nate in the trunk and wouldn’t let him out until he gave away his Christmas present,” Darrell explained.

  Uncle Jason looked shocked. “You do that, Travis?” he asked.

  Travis trembled.

  “He did, Dad,” Nate insisted. “He stuck me in the trunk, and I couldn’t breathe, and he wouldn’t let me out ’cause he wanted my car. I was scared—”

  “He’s lying!” Travis howled.

  A terrible look came over his uncle’s face, as if he saw something horrible that he had never wanted to admit existed. He walked over to his older son. “What do you think you are doin’, boy? You could have choked your brother in there.”

  Travis shrugged his shoulders and looked at the ground.

  “Don’t you ever try to hurt your brother again, you hear me! Just ’cause you are bigger don’t give you the right to push him around or take things from him. I ain’t raisin’ no bullies in this house,” Uncle Jason yelled. “Now we are gonna get this mess straightened out. Both of you get in the house. I’ll be there when I’m done with Darrell. And I’ll say this once, Travis, you better tell me the truth ’cause if I find out you are lying, you might not come outside again until next Christmas! Now get inside.” Both brothers ran into the house. Uncle Jason looked over at Darrell.

  “I’m glad you were here, Darrell,” he said. “I know I told you not to get involved with them, but you did the right thing. A man’s got to stand up when someone else is in trouble, even if it means he might get himself into trouble.”

  Darrell could tell his uncle was struggling to find the right words. He liked that Uncle Jason had called him a man.

  “Look,” his uncle continued, “I’m sorry I upset you at your first wrestling match, Darrell.” He paused awkwardly. “Maybe you don’t need my help, but maybe I need yours. You showed me that I need to pay more attention to what’s happening with my boys.” He stopped again and looked at the trunk that Nate had been trapped in. “You’re a good kid, Darrell. You are coming along just fine,” he said quietly and walked into the house.

  Darrell was stunned. He stood in the garage after his uncle left. He quietly closed the trunk, laid the key on top, and went home. For years, Uncle Jason had made him feel smaller and weaker. When he was a young boy, Darrell had dreaded his uncle’s visits to Philadelphia. But now things were suddenly different. For once, his uncle said something good about him. For once, he seemed to respect him. At first, Darrell could not understand why Uncle Jason had acted so differently, but the more he thought about it, the more it started to make sense. Darrell was different from the person he had been a few months ago.

  Two months ago, he raced home ever day to hide from Tyray. Now he stayed after school to go to wrestling practice. Six weeks ago, he could not even climb halfway up the ropes in practice. Now he could reach the top every time. During his first weeks at Bluford his grades were low C’s. Now they were all B’s. When he arrived in California, he knew no one. Now he was friends with Harold, danced once with Amberlynn, and talked regularly with the guys on the wrestling team, even older guys like Kevin. What made him even happier was that he had grown an inch since he got to Bluford. He was different, he realized, but not different enough. Darrell still lived in fear of Tyray. He still paid him every Friday. And, worst of all, he allowed his fear of Tyray to keep him away from Amberlynn Bailey, the only girl he liked at Bluford.

  The day before New Year’s, Darrell won a wrestling match for the first time by beating a freshman from Sterling High School, 8 to 2. Coach Lewis was so happy that he hugged Darrell when he stepped off the mat.

  “You’ll be varsity by your junior year if you keep working this hard,” he said. Kevin told him that he seemed to be learning faster than even he had.

  That night, his mother bought him his favorite ice cream, mint chocolate chip, and the two sat on the couch and ate it together.

  At midnight, she told him she wanted to give up fast food in the new year. “I’m gonna get big if I don’t watch myself,” she said. “How about you? Any changes you want to make for the new year?”

  Darrell just smiled and shook his head. He wanted to keep his New Year’s resolution to himself. But he knew what it was. It had been building since the moment he handed his mother’s money to Tyray. It had continued to grow since he read Hatchet, since he joined the wrestling team, since he held Amberlynn close to him at the Freshman Dance. He just had not been ready before. But he was now.

  He was going to stop paying Tyray.

  Chapter 12

  The first Friday of the new year, Darrell did not walk to the supermarket parking lot to meet Tyray. Instead he took the back street to school.

  Darrell pictured Tyray and Rodney standing by the supermarket waiting for him. He wondered what they would think when they realized he was not going to meet them. Darrell could almost hear Ty
ray yelling and cursing.

  Darrell knew Tyray and Rodney would try to get the money from him somehow. But he was not going to pay them again—even if Tyray hurt him. Darrell had decided that his days in school were miserable whether he paid Tyray or not. So why pay him? He had been humiliated since he arrived at Bluford. He had lost a chance with Amberlynn, and he had been robbed of his mother’s money for weeks. What more could they do?

  When Darrell arrived in school, he felt better than he had in months. Knowing the lunch money was in his pocket—not Tyray’s—made his whole day more cheerful. He had decided on New Year’s Day that he would use the money to buy his own lunch in the cafeteria. For the first time in weeks, Darrell did not carry sandwiches in his backpack. Even though he did not like most of the food at Bluford, he knew today’s lunch would be one of the best he ever had.

  Darrell got to English class early. Tyray and Rodney had not arrived yet, and Darrell wondered if they were still looking for him at the supermarket. As he waited for Mr. Mitchell to come into the classroom, Darrell could tell that Amberlynn was watching him. He had been avoiding her all week, even though she looked like she wanted to talk to him whenever they made eye contact. He was still embarrassed about the dance, but he chose to avoid her because he knew Tyray would tease her if he saw them talking.

  Tyray and Rodney arrived in class at the same time. As they walked up the aisle to their desks, Tyray stopped next to Darrell.

  “Where were you this morning? You owe me ten dollars. Now you’re gonna have to pay extra, or I’ll bust your head after school today,” he whispered. A droplet of Tyray’s spit landed on Darrell’s face. Just then Mr. Mitchell came in, and Tyray moved to his desk. For the rest of the class, Darrell tried to ignore what Tyray had said. He did not know what he would do when Tyray confronted him. He was tired of running. But he was still scared.

  At lunchtime, Darrell joined Harold in the food line.

  “You didn’t pack lunch today?” Harold asked. Darrell had never told his friend the full truth about why he always packed his lunch.