Why Did You Hurt Me?

by Phylicia Joannis

CHAPTER EIGHT:

  On The Run

  Max’s mind is racing, his pulse is way out of control, and he has no idea where he’s going. His mind is clear on only one thing: he needs to get as far away as possible.

  He feels his left leg slip as he rounds a corner. Pain stabs his knee as it slams into a wall. He winces and hobbles a few seconds before breaking back into his stride. The commotion behind him lets him know he’d better not slip again.

  His mind tries to shut out the noises behind him. “Almost home, almost home,” he tells himself over and over. Whether or not that will make a difference is unclear, but he’s out of ideas. The clang of an overturned garbage can encourages him to move faster. He prays he will lose them soon. Shouts in the distance let him know they’re still too close.

  He didn’t want this. He just went to the drugstore to pick up some milk and bread. A few thugs had been hanging out by the entrance. Max had hoped if he just ignored them and didn’t make eye contact they wouldn’t bother him, but they had been waiting for him when he came out.

  •••

  “Hey dude!” one of them snorted, obviously high. The others laughed.

  Max glanced at them nervously and tried to keep walking, but one of the others blocked his way.

  “You little white boys always think you better,” he snarled. “You think you better than me? Eh?” The young Latino put his face directly in front of Max. He was drunk. Max couldn’t mistake the smell on his breath.

  “I don’t want any trouble,” Max said quietly.

  “Well looks like you found it,” Smelly Breath smiled and looked Max up and down. Max’s hands began to shake, which only served to encourage the boys.

  He closed his eyes slowly, willing his knees to stop knocking. They didn’t. When he opened his eyes again, they were still there, and the two on the side were inching closer to him.

  “What’s the matter?” another asked in a high pitched voice. “You scared?”

  “Nice shoes,” one of them commented with a sneer. Max swallowed hard and prayed.

  “Hey!” the door of the store opened with a loud bang. The owner stuck his head out. “I don’t want no trouble at my store! You kids get outta here! Now!”

  “Hey shut up old man!” one of the others waved a hand at him.

  “Get out of here before I call the police!” the man waved the phone in his hand.

  Smelly Breath lifted his hands in the air and backed away from Max. “We were just leaving,” he said with a grin. The others backed off as well, laughing and joking. Max could feel a cold sweat forming on his neck. As soon as they rounded the corner he turned to the storeowner.

  “Thanks,” he said, tightening his grip on his groceries.

  “You be careful, and go straight home,” the man replied sternly. Max nodded and started on his way home. He’d only gone a few yards before the creepy feeling of being watched tingled up his spine. His suspicions were confirmed as soon as he turned his head. Three boys, headed by Smelly Breath, were following close behind him.

  Max picked up his pace, glancing back occasionally to see if they were still following him. They showed no signs of slowing or stopping. Max began a quick trot, but soon discovered they were keeping pace with him. The half-gallon of milk and loaf of bread in his right hand were weighing down his arms. Max began to run, ignoring the wild churning sound the milk made when it bounced off his thigh.

  One of the boys hollered, “Get him!” and Max took off full sprint. Somewhere along the way he dropped the milk and bread, but he refused to look back. They were after him, and there was no telling what they would do if they caught up to him.

  •••

  Max is less than three blocks away from his house. He’d taken several back alleys to try to lose the boys, and the last few turns he took seemed to do the trick.

  He allows himself a short break to catch his breath. He thinks he might puke. His breath is coming in short rasps, and he wills himself to calm down. His eyes burn with tears, and he shuts them tight. His chest is on fire, and his lips are dry.

  He needs to get home, quickly, but he can’t will his legs forward. His arms and legs ache. He shouldn’t stick around; he knows that. He glances down the road. His house is just a couple blocks down. He sticks out his right foot, then his left, and slowly begins to pick up the pace. Max smiles in relief. He is almost home!

  A car zooms past him, headed in the opposite direction. He turns to watch it drive off. It speeds around the next corner, its tires squealing in protest. Max shakes his head and turns back in the direction of his house. He stops. The boys are in front of him, two blocks down. He feels his heart drop into his gut as they turn, first to the right then to the left. They see him. Max sees them running toward him, but can’t get his mind to register that fact to his legs in time.

  Run! Run! He wills them to move. Please, God, run!

  After what seems an eternity, he finally begins to run in the opposite direction. His legs feel like lead, and the thugs are less than a block away now. He stumbles over a water hose left out on the sidewalk. His hand smacks the pavement before he regains his balance and he cradles it with his other hand.

  He looks back. They’re right behind him. Max focuses all of his energy on running, though where he’s running to is moot at this point. He just needs to get away. They are going to hurt him. He knows that much. They’re on his heels now. Max feels all hope drain from his body, and despair washes through him. Raw fear permeates his veins, gripping his spine and freezing his legs.

  He hears them directly behind him. One grabs his shoulder and swings him off balance. Max hits the ground with a hard thud. His shoulder feels out of place as the rest of them pounce on him. Fists and feet fly at him from all directions. His mind screams for them to stop, but the words never make it out of his mouth. Max begins to thrash, kicking out with his arms and legs. A blow to his head sends stars dancing behind his eyes. He feels himself passing out, but suddenly Smelly Breath grabs him by his shirt and slams him against the wall of a house.

  Max blinks slowly. He looks past Smelly Breath to the tiny audience that’s come to watch. The demon children have run over to see the commotion, giggling and pointing as Max gets pummeled. No one else is around. Smelly Breath slugs him in his gut, and Max feels bile rise to his throat. He coughs violently, shrinking to his knees in pain.

  “Hold him up!” Smelly Breath orders one of the boys to grab Max. The children are still laughing. Max feels his left eye swelling. Nausea fights its way to the surface, and Max’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Everything becomes fuzzy and Smelly Breath and his gang begin to blur together. Max detects movement out of the corner of his eye. Smelly Breath sees it too. He turns around, which is all Max sees before passing out.

  •••

  Max hears his name several times and turns over. He’s at the park, and his mother is in front of him, calling for him to come follow her. He watches her disappear into the woods behind the park.

  Where is she going? Max wonders. He follows her past the trees and calls out to her, but she doesn’t respond. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots her. He begins running towards her, pushing away stray twigs that block his path. He keeps calling out to her, but she continues to run.

  She makes a sharp left, passing a large wild bush. There is a small trail leading up to an old wooden gate. The gate looks like several pieces of wood stapled together on a rusty hinge.

  His mother walks past the gate and disappears. Max runs to catch up, but once he passes the gate, he can’t find her. He looks in every direction, but she is nowhere to be seen. A crackling sound to his right catches his attention. Max squints past the trees as he spots a faint light in the distance.

  He follows the light. It takes him deeper into the trees, and, for a brief moment, he wonders if he will be able to find his way out. Max stops when he finds the source of the light. A small house is sitting in the middle of a clearing. It’s hidden at first by a
few trees, but just beyond the trees are three or four yards of grass. The house is on fire. Max hears his heart beat in his ear drums. What he sees next sends his mind in a flurry. His mother is running toward the house!

  Max takes off, running and screaming for her to wait. Doesn’t she know the house is on fire? As he nears the house he sees that the fire is coming from one side. Something tells him to run towards the side that’s burning. He follows his instincts and notices a small basement window, almost too low for him to see through.

  Flames lick the roof and the sides of the walls, but Max rushes to the window anyway. He feels the heat from the fire, but it doesn’t burn him. He looks through the window and sees a large room filled with black smoke. Something else is there, or someone, lying on the floor.

  The smoke makes it hard for him to see clearly. Suddenly, the walls begin to shake and buckle. Max hears a loud crack as the roof collapses. His mind tells him to move, but he can’t let go of the window ledge. The tremors cause Max to shake violently. He hears his mother calling him.

  “Max! Max! Max!”

  •••

  “Max? Hey Max, you alright, man?”

  Max feels himself being shaken. He opens his eyes and immediately shuts them when the light hits them. The second time he opens one eyelid at a time and squints.

  Max is on the ground; Frank and another boy are squatting next to him. Frank has his hand on Max’s shoulder. Max winces as the pain in his body rushes over him. He feels like swearing, but restrains himself.

  “What happened?” Max asks. He remembers the boys who chased him, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

  “You were getting the crap kicked out of you,” the other boy snickers.

  Max grimaces. “I mean after that.”

  Frank ignores the question. “Can you sit up?” he asks. Max nods and slowly, with Frank’s help, props himself up. His whole body aches from the bruises he knows are there. Max massages his face in his hands and closes his eyes against the ringing in his ears. There is a pulsing motion coming from the back of his head. Max reaches back and feels a goose egg under his hair. He winces as he caresses it lightly.

  “Are you okay, Max?” Frank asks again.

  “Yeah,” Max replies. “Where are those guys at now?”

  “We chased them off of you,” the other boy shrugs.

  Max looks at him in disbelief. “How did you manage that?”

  “With this,” the young man reaches into his back pocket.

  Max tenses, expecting him to pull out a gun. He doesn’t. Instead he pulls out a small cloth with a symbol woven on it. It has the word S.K.U.L.L.S. and a picture with crossbones across the front in purple and red colors.

  “We keep these on us. Everyone in this neighborhood knows if you mess with one S.K.U.L.L.S. member, you mess with all of us. We came around the corner and saw them beating you up. Frank here,” the boy points to Frank, “told them to leave you alone. They weren’t going to listen at first, but when we showed them our creed cloth, they backed off. We couldn’t save your shoes, though.”

  Max looks down at his feet, realizing for the first time that his shoes are missing. This time he does swear. He glances at Frank and quickly apologizes. “Sorry, it slipped.”

  Frank doesn’t notice. “Sorry for what?”

  Max shakes his head. “Never mind.” Max slowly takes a step towards his house. “Listen, Frank, thanks for helping me out. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t been here.”

  Frank nods and places his hand on Max’s shoulder. “Max, I like you, man. You’ve got some great potential. This time I happened to be here, but as soon as those guys catch you alone again, you’re toast. You’re not gonna walk away with just a few bruises. You’ve got to have some sort of protection.”

  Max nods in agreement. “I’ve been thinking about that, Frank. I just... I don’t know about it.”

  Frank shrugs. “We’re having a bonfire tonight in the woods. You should come. Hang out with some other S.K.U.L.L.S. members, ask some questions, and find out what you need to know. Just give me a call if you decide to go, and I’ll come pick you up.”

  Max nods again. “I think I will.” Frank helps Max home with occasional commentary from his friend, whose name, Max later discovers, is Steve. As soon as Max gets settled inside, Steve and Frank leave. Max looks at the clock. His father will be home soon, and an hour later he’ll be off to his AA meeting.

  Max thinks about Frank’s offer. Max usually goes to bible study on Wednesdays, but this is important, isn’t it? Besides, if he goes to church with swollen eyes and bruises, Martin will freak out. He makes up his mind. He’ll call Frank as soon as his father leaves for his meeting.