AUGUST
My father gave me some advice a long time ago. He held me by my arms, pinning them to my sides. Our faces were close. I tried to avoid his stare by looking down at my legs dangling in the air. I was little then, five years old. He shook me until I looked up at him.
“You’d better NEVER be a bitch!”
He’s been gone a long time. My mother and I ran away from him not long after he gave me that advice. He will visit now and then, when he thinks I’m afraid, on days like this. Right before class, first day of my senior year of high school. I could almost feel his hand grip the back of my neck, leading me to my seat. I was suddenly aware of the big hole in my jeans, right over my knee. My mom and I had just painted our living room last weekend and the t-shirt I wore still had paint on the sleeve.
The teacher had not shown up yet and everyone was still talking. Another white kid in the class half smiled at me. I nodded to him and found a seat in the middle of the room. My mother and I had just moved to Tucson Arizona
“Man, when my brother was here,” a boy behind me said, “the school was all black and Mexican. None of this white shit.”
“Yeah?” Someone else said.
“Yeah, it was cool.”
Sometimes my father knows when I’ll be afraid before I do. The teacher came in, apologized for the air conditioner not working and passed out a test. No pressure, she said, she just wanted to know if this was the right class for us. She looked at us and sighed as if she had been doing this for a very long time then walked out of the room after we began.
It got quiet then, like in one of those old jungle movies. A line of explorers trekking through the forest when everything seems to stop. The birds stop chirping, everyone pauses and draws their guns, waiting for the lion to make a move.
The only thing I could hear was my own pencil on my paper and my heart beat. No one else seemed to be writing. I took a few deep breaths and waited, wondering where the lion would attack from.
“Hey boy!” the kid behind me whispered. “Let’s see some answers!” The hyena next to him snickered. I stared forward and waited.
When he slapped me on the back of my head I was almost relieved, he was no lion, just a bully. He waited for me to respond and laughed when I didn’t. That’s when I turned and slapped him back. Now there was total silence, except for our breathing. I think he was more shocked than anything else.
Tony was embroidered on the shoulder of the football jersey he wore. He was big. He wasn’t any more a man than I was, but he had the body. I looked at his nose while I waited for him to respond. Tony had a big nose, but it looked straight. I decided that if he made another move I would hit him there. Before he beat me I would ruin that big nose. We stood up at the same time.
“Don’t you fuckin’ touch me!” he said while slapping the side of my head again. Now I knew the truth, the words weren’t to scare me, he just wanted attention. His eyes darted around the room. I guess people usually backed down from him and now he was confused. We could both hear the teacher’s footsteps coming from down the hall. Two of Tony’s friends stood up behind him. I heard someone stand up behind me.
I quickly raised my left hand to get his attention and hit him with my right. “Don’t you touch me,” I said. Maybe he recognized something in my voice; I said it without swearing or shouting. I kept my voice low and controlled like I learned in the detention center and group home I was in for a while, just like my father taught me. Tony didn’t know what to do with me.
From my experience with guys like Tony, he had gone as far as he was going to. This was just to save face. Neither of us wanted this to go any further and I expected one of his friends to pull him back to his seat with whispers about payback. Instead it was the teacher who saved us. We both listened to the heels of her shoes click on the hall floor. She entered the class and told us to sit down.
I watched him as I sat down before turning forward. Some Latino kid had stood up behind me. I gave him the same look I gave them, until I realized that he was staring at Tony. I nodded my thanks to him for standing up and he nodded back. Then we got back to our test. Gripping my pencil as hard as I could kept my hand from shaking.
After class I went to my locker and loaded my running shoes and clothes into my duffel bag. I shut the door and noticed the Latino kid’s locker was close to mine. I watched him stuff a pair of running shoes into his bag.
“Hey,” I said, “you run?”
He looked up and smiled. “Yeah, Cross Country. Why, you run?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “Well, I’m goin’ out for the team anyway.”
“C’mon,” he said. “I’ll show you where to go. My name’s Fernando.”
“I’m Shane.”
“Well, welcome, I see you’ve met the school asshole,” he said as we started down the hall.
“He the only one?” I asked.
Fernando laughed. “He’s everyone’s favorite. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to get in on it. I’ve known him since the fifth grade. My brother whupped his ass once a few years ago. Didn’t do him any good though,” Fernando shrugged. Taking a beating was probably how Tony got that way in the first place, but I kept that to myself.
Fernando seemed to know everyone. He greeted every other kid we passed going down the hall. He also dressed like a fashion ad, wearing a tight fitting v-neck t-shirt and baggy jeans. He wore several beaded necklaces and bracelets on both wrists. He looked like he was heading out for a night on the town; I looked like I was on my way to a construction sight.
Fernando led me to the gym. He showed me where to pick up a locker assignment and towel. We changed and went to the north side of the campus. Other kids were sitting on the grass and stretching. I knew right away who the best runner was.
I run because I’m angry. I run after some things, away from others. There were other angry kids, but I would beat all of them, except for Adrian
My mom is always after me to stop looking so angry. She says that a constant furrowed brow will spoil my looks or something. We all had that look, toeing that crack in the cement, getting ready to run. Except for Adrian
“Go!” he shouted. We heard the beep of the coaches stop watch and we were off. Another kid bumped into me to get position and gave me an elbow in the chest. I just ran and let it go for now. I was thinking of David. He taught me about using my anger. His first lesson was to never react but to pick your moment and make them have to react to you. I settled into the run and let my mind wander.
***
My first three years of high school were spent in a small town called Prescott Valley Prescott
town that it is next to. It has some larger places to get drunk.
David was a senior when I was a freshman. They used to call his father Bat-man because his father used to follow him around in his jeep when David was making long runs and would carry a bat across his lap, for his son’s protection.
Once during his freshman year some older kids on motorcycles caught David on the open road and beat him up for fun. David had hurt them just about as bad as they hurt him, breaking some bones in his right hand and screwing up the knuckles in his left on some guy’s teeth. His father took offense to this and from then on would follow his son around in his jeep on the weekends, when he was sober enough to drive. The other kids thought that it was cool and started calling him Bat-man.
A year or so after the attack David and his father went to where the older kids hung out and, holding the bat in his hands, David’s father watched while his son took the kids on one at a time. Afterwards, his father made him run home, honking the horn to make him run faster. When they reached their street his father pulled up alongside David and hit him once across his back with the bat. David told me that he fell and stayed on the ground for a long time. His father just kept on going. I guess he did it to remind him who was in charge.
No one could ever keep up with David. By the end of track season in the spring I could finish within a hundred yards of him. Usually if anyone was even close he would take offense, but he could see that I was angry too and it didn’t bother him so much.
David disappeared after graduation. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving and some people feared the worst. They whispered that his father had finally got too rough with him. I knew the truth, but I kept it to myself. He had come to my house the night he left and knocked on my window. I opened it and gasped, David was there, with the bat in his hands. Even in the dark I could see that it was bloodied. I took a step backwards.
“I beat him fair and fuckin’ square. He was even sober,” he told me. Like I would have doubted it. “I didn’t start in with the bat until he was already down.” His eyes weren’t angry any more. The anger was gone; he had the eyes of a corpse. He spoke without seeing me. “I have it now,” he said quietly. He held it up for me to see. I nodded. “They can call me Bat-man. I’m out of here. You’ll be the man now. I want you to tear it up...”
I nodded. My breath came out in a shudder but I stepped closer anyway. We worshiped the same God. Maybe he wouldn’t see how scared I was and there would be some transfer of power. I took up the baseball size rock I kept on my desk.
He told me once that the only thing he was waiting around for was a sign to tell him where to go next. I guess it came to him. I try not to think of him anymore, but sometimes he comes back to me.
“I know where I’m going now. Good thing your dad is gone. You won’t have to keep your promise and beat his ass.” He still wasn’t looking at me and I felt fortunate. His eyes would narrow like he was trying to read something far away. Then they would get big, like he was having trouble focusing. I think he was looking for something to have changed. Then his confusion seemed to pass and he was angry again.
“Happy huntin’,” he nodded looking at the rock in my hand. “Crazy fucker...”
“Goodbye.” I said. I caught myself starting to wave to him, but left my fists clenched at my sides. You don’t want to move quickly around David. It makes him uneasy and pisses him off. I didn’t want David mad at me.
I went back to my bed and put the rock on my desk. We had left my father before I could use it. It was a reminder of the only brave thing I had ever done. Years earlier, after my father had done something ugly to my mother, I ran outside after him. He had already gotten into his truck and was driving away. I picked up a rock and threw it at him. It felt like my heart stopped a second after I had launched it, but luckily I missed him by a mile. When he was farther down the road I went and found it. I decided that when I was a man I would try and use it again, but we left him soon after that. We were both lucky I guess.
The day after David came to say goodbye the police came and talked to me for an hour or so. They asked me the same questions over and over again, but my story was pretty simple. They had said that a neighbor had seen someone outside my house last night. I told them that I had heard something but I hadn’t seen anyone.
I wasn’t sure if they believed me, and I couldn’t tell how interested they were. Maybe they had known something of David’s family. Maybe they figured what David had done was what his father deserved. One of the Officers leaned forward and stared at me for a moment.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve been to David’s house one time when the neighbors called to report a disturbance. I know it wasn’t the first time and it probably wasn’t the last time that house had a disturbance. David needs help...” I don’t remember the rest of what the guy said. I kept my fists balled up at my sides to resist the urge to hit him in the face. A muscle started twitching under my right eye, the first sign that I was losing control. I had to grimace to keep it still. He leaned back and gave me a funny look.
“David’s father is going to be in the hospital for a long time,” the other Officer said. He said it sympathetically, like telling me my dog had been hit by a car. I didn’t even look at him.
I wanted to scream at them. David could have used their help a long time ago. They didn’t do their job so David did it for them. I wanted to laugh to show them how ridiculous they were, but I was afraid that I would start crying. So I stared off for a while and they asked my mom some questions. Things about David, like had he ever spent the night, stuff like that.
My mom had never met David. So she just sat upright in her chair, kept her arms folded across her chest and shook her head. She was staring at me as hard as they were and I didn’t dare look her way.
Then they asked if they could look around and I glanced at my mother, avoiding her eyes, and shrugged. We waited inside while they looked. The police took a long time. It sounded like they were doing more talking than looking. I tapped my fingers on the couch and stared at the wall, trying to pretend it was no big deal.
After Bat-man had left I waited until I was sure he was gone before going outside. I looked at the ground where he had stood and noticed the drops of blood on the drive way. It couldn’t have all been from the bat. Maybe Bat-man’s father had got in a few licks before he went down. David told me once about the big knife his father always had with him, strapped to his belt.
I looked around and tried to be quiet while I sprayed off the cement with the hose. I kept at it for about an hour to make sure that it was all gone, memories and the blood. Then I turned off the hose and with one last look around I ran back inside and locked the door. I had moved pretty fast but the memories were there, waiting inside for me.
I didn’t know where David went to, but I knew that they would never find him. David was gone forever. I don’t like to think of anyone ever running into him again.
***
We were doing three laps around the school grounds. It would be slightly over three miles. Adrian
I could tell that he was fading. After the second lap he lost his arm motion and kept his hands close to his chest. A couple times he broke stride and almost stumbled. I had been pushing him, waiting for the last corner. He felt me coming and grabbed onto the chain link fence to pull him around, forcing me outside. I passed him anyway and bumped him hard. He stumbled but kept going and finished about twenty yards behind me. Some loud white kid finished in fourth. He wore this oversized t-shirt that said: ‘I Love My Penis.’ With a big red heart for the word love. Fernando came in fifth.
I avoided looking at anyone, but the kid I had exchanged elbows with got in my face. He was black, had a shaved head and a handsome face. He was about my height and weight. Others came across the finish line and quietly moved around us to get a good look in case a fight broke out. This kid was different than Tony. If we fought it would be hard on both of us. Maybe it was out of respect, or fear, but luckily we looked away at the same time and moved apart.
“All right,” the coach said. He looked disappointed. Maybe he wanted us to think that he was in charge. Mr. Martin was his name. He talked to us for a while and told us that he expected good things from the team. We nodded and he just kept going. He started to ramble on and my mind began wandering. I started thinking about when I would have to deal with the black kid again and what I could do to avoid him. Then the kid with the penis t-shirt started shouting.
“Fuckin’eh! Were gonna win! Let’s kick some ass!” the weird white kid said while pumping his fist in the air. Mr. Martin just blinked and didn’t seem to know what to do about the kid’s enthusiasm. He scratched himself and looked to see if there were any other adults around.
“All right then, Justin ah, take it easy!”
“Whatever you say coach!” Justin shouted. He was rocking back and forth and hitting other kids on the shoulder and nodding to them. I was trying not to laugh. I noticed the black kid was looking down at his feet to hide his smile.
Mr. Martin congratulated the five of us who would be on the varsity team and gave some encouraging words to the rest who would be on the junior varsity team. Then he went to go watch the football team practice. He wore those tight shorts that football coaches wear.
“Like to see if his ass could make it ‘round this school!” Someone said.
I laughed. “Not unless somethin’ was chasin’ it.” I turned to look at the kid who spoke. It was the kid I had bumped into. Everyone else was heading back to the locker room. I held my breath for a moment, wondering what would come next.
“Man, he gets fatter every year.”
I sighed and relaxed. He nodded and gave me a smile. We resumed our stretching. The kid’s name was Marcus. We talked for a while and he asked me where I was from, where I lived, that sort of thing.
“This is a magnet school. We got kids from all over this city, come to this shitty school for all the fine arts and shit.” He told me. “First time I hear of some kid coming all the way down here from the sticks.”
I laughed at him. “They gonna send me back if I don’t do any fine arts?”
“You don’t do anything special?”
“I just live a few blocks east of the school,” I said. “How about you? You do anything special?”
“Me? Nothin’, I just live a few blocks south of the school,” he shrugged. “You can sure run,” he said and smiled.
I snorted and looked down at my feet, holding a stretch. “You too man. This is a good team.”
“We got some talented guys on this team, too. Fernando, he paints and shit, amazing stuff,” he said. “Justin, that crazy fuck, plays guitar. Blues, classical, anything.”
“What about Adrian
“He don’t do nuthin’ but run and look pissed off,” he said. “Dude’s a madman.”
Marcus and I talked for about half an hour. The more we talked the happier I was that we hadn’t gotten into a fight. We made amends by being friendly as boys who come to trading blows often do. I think that each of us knew where the other one stood. Maybe it was all by accident, but we respected each other. My mom would say we resisted our hormonal poisoning and used our heads.
The campus looked deserted as we walked back to the gym and changed. We said goodbye at the east gate. He said he avoids the south gate because of all the fighting that goes one there.
I ran across Euclid Eighth street . We shared the street with a bunch of college kids. The University of Arizona
Before I went inside I decided to work on our mailbox which looked like it had been ignored by the previous owners and was ready to burst. I put my bag down and started prying out the junk mail. When I pulled a handful out the rest was vomited out all over my feet. Someone came over to check the box next to ours when I was scooping the mail up off the ground.
“Hi,” she said. I turned to look at the woman next to me. She smiled at me.
I forgot all that as I stood next to her. I wished that time would just stop for a moment so I could get a better perspective. For the first time I felt like the heat wasn’t all bad and in fact, she seemed comfortable with it. She had a light blue tank top on made out of some silky material and jean shorts. I kept staring for a moment until she raised her eyebrows.
“Hi,” I said quickly. “I live here.” Meaning to say that I was new here.
“Yeah, I saw you guys move in last week. You go to school?”
“Yeah...do you?”
“Yeah, I’m a transfer student from San Francisco
“Oh,” I hoped she would not ask me what my major was. I wanted to avoid pointing down the street to Tucson High.
“By the way, my name’s Julia,” she said while offering her hand.
“Oh, my name’s Shane.”
Julia was varying shades of brown. Dark brown eyes that were darkest around the edges and became lighter towards the pupils. Her skin was lightly tanned and her shoulder length hair was a mixture of blond and light brown. I started sniffing. Something smelled good. I couldn’t tell if she was wearing perfume. If I didn’t think it would freak her out, I would have taken a step closer.
“You have allergies too, huh? Aren’t they a pain?”
“Oh, ah yeah.” I shook my head at my misfortune. I kept my eyes on hers, running a hand over my mouth in case I had any dried saliva on my lips left from my run.
“Well, I gotta get to work. You like coffee?”
“Uhm, yeah.”
“Cool, I work at the coffee shop on University. Drop by some time.”
“Okay,” I nodded. I replayed her invitation ten times in my head by the time I got to the front door. It seemed sincere. My mom had got back to the kitchen table from the front window when I got in. I caught her smiling.
“Neighbor girl, huh?”
I shrugged as I sat down to dinner. I waited to see what she knew before I spoke. She just let me eat and smiled.
“What?” I gave up. It was no use against my mother. She could always out last me.
“Nothing,” she said. She sounded like she had been offended. Which meant there was something.
“Mom...”
“She invited you to have coffee?”
“No...just to drop by where she works-”
“Same thing,” she said quickly. She got up and took her plate into the kitchen. “Listen, I’m going in early and I should get home before you have to leave for school tomorrow.”
“Okay. Will you have this night shift for long?”
“Most likely for the next year.”
My mom worked at a Safeway as the night manager. It was a good move for her from her job at a Safeway in Prescott Valley
“Later sport!” She kissed me on the cheek, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
“Bye mom, have a good night.”
Usually it was her hugs that made things better. When I was little she would have to go looking for me when she got home from work. I had usually run away from my father because he was in a bad mood. It wasn’t much better when he was in a good mood because then he would lock me outside for the day. Sometimes I would run from our house, sometimes my body would stay right there on the front porch and my mind would go away on its own. My mom would always come home and I would find myself in her arms. Then I knew I was safe for a while because she would be with me.
When I was thirteen we moved to Phoenix Prescott Valley
The next day in school I heard some kids talking about how they egged some trailer trash. I followed one of them home, just to see where he lived. That night I came back and did a number on his house. I broke windows instead of throwing eggs. It was a two story house and it had lots of windows.
Before they caught me I had scratched ‘white trash’ on the side of their car with a pointed rock. I guess it was the kid’s father who held me down until the police got there. I saw his mother too but she wasn’t crying after looking at what I had done, she just shouted at me and stomped her foot. The kid from my school just yawned and stared at me.
I was in a detention center for a while. It took some time for the property damage to be assessed. My mom had gotten the wrong time for my court date and was late for my appearance. The judge was not impressed and gave her a lecture. I kept my eyes on my mom because I knew that she was angry. Her lips were pursed and nearly white. I was afraid that I was going to have to pull her off of him, but she kept her cool. I admired her for that.
The judge put me in detention for two more weeks then sent me to a group home. He told me that if I was good I could go home in a month after completing my community service.
My mother hugged me and for that moment I felt that everything would be okay. She had to let me go after a while and I had to watch her leave. I try not to think much more about that time. I don’t know why I do at all since it only makes me angry. Sometimes I wonder what I should do with my anger and who should answer for it. I closed my eyes but the image of him came to me any way. David, naming himself Bat-man, holding the bloody bat, like it was an answer for him. Like he expected it to have brought him peace or something.
I finished cleaning up after taking a shower. I found something to study for a while before getting drowsy. It was only . I walked around the house a while until I gave in to what I wanted to do. I put on a pair of jeans, old running shoes and the University of Arizona
I put my USS Iowa hat on backwards and looked in the bathroom mirror. I don’t look like much. Just six foot tall, one hundred sixty five pounds. That’s what I tell people any way. I am six foot, but only one hundred fifty-five pounds. I guess that lying about my weight will make me seem bigger than I am.
University was busy. It’s full of restaurants, clothing stores, drug stores and other stuff college kids need. I spotted the coffee shop out of the corner of my eye. It was on the north side of the street. I was on the south side. I stalled by going into a record store across from it.
“What’s up Shane?”
I looked around and spotted Marcus at the back of the store in the pop/soul section. He had two CD’s, one in each hand. A store employee walked by eying him. When he passed, Marcus flipped him off.
“How you doin’,” I laughed. When I got to him he showed me the CD’s.
“Ya like Parliament?” He asked.
I shrugged.
“Ya know,” he rolled his eyes. “Flashlight!” He sang, but it didn’t help me any. “You better buy this,” he said, tapping my in the chest with it. I looked at Marcus for a moment and smiled. He kept humming the song to himself but the show wasn’t for me. I looked around the store. Two aisles over a young woman was going through some CD’s. Her hands were busy but she seemed to be keeping track of what Marcus was doing. I looked back at him and found him smiling at her. She smiled back and moved away.
“Uh-huh,” I smiled to let him know I was on to him and looked at the CD he was holding.
“Shh,” he whispered. The woman went to the checkout. She was tall, about our height. I couldn’t imagine what ethnicity she was. Her eyes looked Asian but she had dark skin and long, curly black hair.
“Five minutes Marcus,” someone walking by said to him. I looked up. It was a black guy in his twenties with three other teens following him. Marcus pursed his lips and looked back at the CD’s. I pretended that I hadn’t noticed them. He looked uncomfortable.
“I gotta go man. You gonna get that CD?”
“If you recommend it.”
“I do.”
We bought our CD’s and went outside. I noticed the guy who had spoken to Marcus staring as we went out the door. Then I saw the big white van parked right in front of the store. Marcus moved like he was going to walk down the street, so I took a seat on a bench in front of the van. Marcus stopped and joined me with a sigh.
The girl was walking slowly down the sidewalk. She paused and looked into a store window. She glanced our way and smiled at Marcus. He nodded and smiled back.
“You gonna get in trouble?” I asked. Marcus looked at me quickly. Maybe he thought I was making fun of him. When he saw that I was concerned he looked away.
“Nah, he’s cool. That guy in there’s a staff at the place I live. Michael trusts me, usually. I’ve been in the group home for a while now. It fuckin’ sucks most of the time.”
I nodded.
“What you up to?” He asked.
“I dunno. Just wanted to check things out.” I glanced quickly across the street. Julia was serving a table outside. My heart started beating like it was coming out of my chest. When I looked back at Marcus he was grinning.
“Ya know her?”
I shrugged. “Sort of. We just met this afternoon.”
“Go get the digits man!”
Before I could answer, Michael came out of the store. The three other kids followed him. They were all white and the two bigger kids looked like they could’ve been twins. They were taking turns swatting the third kid in the head. Michael had gone to the van. Marcus glanced over at him then quickly stood up.
“Back off punks!” he said to the bigger kids. I saw the smaller kid move quickly to his side. He was about half their height and could not have weighed more than ninety pounds. He reminded me of someone I knew from my group home days.
“Marcus!” Michael said. He came up to us and asked what was going on. Not much had changed, adults always seem to miss what happens first but are right on top of the reaction.
“He didn’t do anything Michael! It was fuckin’ Randy and Kevin. They started it.” The smaller kid shouted, like we were all a block away from him. People started to stop and stare. Michael rolled his eyes and sighed. He turned to face the kid, his back to me. Randy and Kevin were sneering at him. They both looked the same, with the close cropped hair, trained to lay forward. I saw the same tattoo’s on their necks, swastikas, cheap ones, like they had done them themselves.
I knew it would be easy to get to these guys. I made eye contact with the one closest to me. Randy or Kevin, I didn’t know which. I blew him a kiss and whispered to him, “Punk.” I motioned with my right hand, palm down, towards my groin as if I was patting the back of his head. I didn’t know how universal the gesture was but he gave me the reaction I was looking for.
“Fuck you!” He swore. He shoved me and I took a dive. I looked at Michael and got the whistle.
“What the hell, Randy!”
Marcus bent down to help me up. He tried to hide his smile. I knew how things worked in the group home. Marcus’s outburst would be forgotten and on the ride home Michael would be lecturing Randy about falling into past bad habits. Randy would probably have to go to bed early or do extra chores.
“Are you all right?” Michael asked me. I nodded, trying to look scared but not hurt. He asked me if I wanted to press charges. I took my time but told him no while I stared at Randy. His face was red. I could see a vein bulging out in his neck, making the swastika look larger. Michael ordered Randy and Kevin into the van. Marcus and I clasped hands.
“Later man. Let me know how it goes with your lady.”
“You too, man,” I said and glanced over at the girl he had been watching. She was still pretending to look in some store window.
“Yeah, she’s somethin’,” he nodded.
“All right man,” I said.
I watched them drive off. Marcus in the front passenger seat, the smaller kid sitting close behind him. Randy and Kevin were in the very last seat. Randy held the first two fingers of his right hand up to his temple. He motioned like he was pulling the trigger and then pointed to me. Kevin just flipped me off. I blew him another kiss as the van turned the corner. Then I tried to forget them, but I knew I would have trouble getting to sleep tonight.
Julia was coming out of the coffee shop as I ran across the street. She smiled at me and quickly delivered mugs full of stuff with whipped cream on top to some tables. I waited by the door and held it open for her when she was done.
“Hi Shane!” She said it like she thought it was golden or something. I could feel the heat hit my neck from under my t-shirt.
“Hi Julia,” I said. Like I knew it was golden. There were only a few people inside. She led me to a table and told me to hold on. Shelves of books lined the walls. It looked like other people were reading so I picked a book. It was something by Maya Angelou. I looked up when three women came in and one of them called out to Julia. She had brought me a menu and waved them over to my table.
“Everyone, this is Shane. Shane this is Nancy, Carrie and Jennie.”
I said hello and they just sort of smiled and nodded. Julia noticed my book.
“Oh, that’s one of my favorite books. How far along are you?”
I imagined that my skin became more red than white. I really wanted to leave. “Uhm, I was just looking at it. I got it from the...” I motioned behind me and put it back. One of her friends laughed. Julia smiled and attempted to usher her friends to a table. They seemed to want to stay at mine.
“I’ll see ya Julia,” I said.
“You have to go?” She asked.
“Mom doesn’t let you out too late, huh?” Jennie asked. The other two laughed.
I looked at her. “No ma’am,” I said. For a second she blushed and her friends giggled. Julia took my arm and walked outside with me. I wanted to apologize for embarrassing her. I didn’t know the books were just for decoration. I wasn’t going to apologize for insulting her friend though, she deserved it. Then Julia surprised me.
“I’m really sorry. Jennie can be a real ass. We’re getting together to study after I get off.”
“It’s okay.” It was. I thought she was embarrassed of me and was ushering me off. It seemed like she was embarrassed of them.
“Hey, you get a new CD?” she asked.
“Yeah, Parliament,” I took it out of the bag and showed her.
“Right on funky one! You listen to Parliament?”
“Oh yeah,” I nodded. I would thank Marcus tomorrow.
“Will you drop by again, sometime?” She asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
She was still holding on to my arm with both hands. She squeezed it and smiled. It seemed like a simple gesture but it felt like she was holding me everywhere.
“Good. I’ll see ya later then,” she said.
“Okay. See ya.” I walked to the curb and waited to cross. I quickly looked back and saw that she was watching me. Her arms were crossed under her breasts and her legs were close together. Before she turned away I could see her smile. It made my stomach do a flip.
I had played that scene over a hundred times by the time I got back to my house. I tried to carry it with me while I brushed my teeth, took off my clothes and got into bed. It was no good. It wasn’t Randy or Kevin that brought it back to me, it was the little kid that Marcus had jumped up to protect.
***
After my mother left me in court they took me to the detention center. I ended up spending the full two weeks there before I got transferred to the group home. Before I left I told a kid how lucky I was to be going there. He just looked at me, Danny was his name.
“You’ll see...” He shrugged and looked sad when he said it. Danny always looked sad so I didn’t think much of it. “Depends on which one it is, some ain’t so bad...some are very bad.”
I spent two weeks with Danny and it still made me cringe when he spoke. He had been in the system, or the ‘circuit’ as he called it since he was six years old. He got taken away from his family after he and his little brother found their father’s gun. They were barely strong enough to lift the thing, he told me. It was just the two of them and the gun and then there was a loud noise and his brother was gone. Danny was fifteen but he couldn’t forget it. I guess that his parents couldn’t either because they didn’t want him back.
The group home was in central Phoenix
It was late in the afternoon when we got there. The counselor introduced me to the staff member on duty, a big Latino named Fred. Then the counselor went into his office, got his briefcase and told Fred he was leaving early today. He waved goodbye and told me to be good. I said that I would and waved back. I had already forgotten his name.
We had to do a lot of paperwork. We went into the staff office and Fred asked me a bunch of questions. The house was real quiet, Fred explained to me that the kids were out playing basketball and to enjoy the quiet while it lasted. He smiled at me but I just shrugged. He gave me a large Tupperware container and tossed me stuff like toothpaste, shampoo, a brush, toothbrush and deodorant. He put a sticker with my name on it and showed me the shelf it went on in the office right inside the door. Everyone keeps their hygiene boxes here, he said. We just asked the staff member on duty for it when we need it.
“You know how to use everything in it?” He asked me. Meaning my box. I told him that I did. “Okay, we have to ask because some kids have never used this stuff before. Just make sure to scrub every crack and crevice and you’ll be all right.”
That made me laugh, which brought a lull in our conversation, which allowed me to think about where I was. Then I felt sad. Fred seemed to know how I was feeling so he kept me busy. After I got a tour of the house, Fred took an inventory of my clothes and told me about the rules of the program. The better we behave, the more privileges we get.
“You wanna get outta here, right?” he asked.
I looked at him for a moment. “Yeah,” I nodded.
“Remember that. You’re here to take care of business and go home,” he said. Fred paused and stared at me. I nodded again. “Just keep thinking about that. It’ll get you through. This place ain’t so bad, you just keep focused. Got it?”
“Yeah,” I said. I meant it this time. Fred seemed to know what he was talking about.
“Don’t get caught up in any shit here. That’ll just make it worse.” We kept on talking for a while about the rules and our schedules.
I wanted to talk to my mom so much I was having trouble concentrating. Fred decided to give me a break for a while when he kept having to ask the same questions twice. We just sat in the dining room and watched a football game on TV until the other kids got home. I heard the van pull up, the doors open and the shouting begin. Treavor was the first one into the house. He ran right up to Fred and started talking about a mile a minute.
“Fred, I scored eight points!” He said loudly before he was cut off by the others. There were seven other kids that came in and sat down in the dining room. Five at the main table and two by themselves at another. Fred and I were sitting around the staff desk.
“Shut up, man!” Someone said. It was one of the two kids who were sitting by themselves. “Oh, I scored eight points!” The big kid said, mimicking the kid. Some of the others laughed.
“Morgan, take it easy!” Fred told him. Morgan glared at him but kept quiet. Fred introduced me to everyone and told me their names.
“Fred, can he be my roommate? I don’t have one!” The little kid asked. Treavor was his name. He talked like I imagined a humming bird would talk, so fast I could barely keep up.
“Yeah, he can.” Fred said. He went in the office to get some sheets, a pillow and a blanket.
“Fred, can I suck his dick?” Morgan whispered, mocking Treavor. His friend laughed.
I looked at him and shook my head. Morgan smiled at me. When I didn’t smile back he glared at me and looked a question. Whatcha gonna do? I just looked away. Fred came out and led me to the back of the house to my room, with Treavor on our heels.
“This room gets cold at night, but it’s close to the bathroom,” Treavor was informing me as I made my bed. I sat down when I was finished then I noticed the nightstand that was between our beds. It was covered by four pieces of paper, they were watercolors of mountain and forest scenes. Treavor got quiet when he noticed what I was looking at.
“I’m sorry! I’ll move ‘em as soon as they dry,” he apologized.
“No-no! They’re real good, man!” I said. They were. Then I noticed that the walls on his side of the room were covered with drawings and paintings. Most of it was of animals and nature stuff. Then there were some strange stuff, abstract I guess. A bunch of colors, mostly red swirled around into different patterns. Angry looking stuff.
“You like ‘em?” Treavor asked.
“You did all this stuff?” I asked. When he didn’t answer right away like I had quickly become accustomed to, I looked at him. He just nodded and stared at me. “It’s really good.” I layed on my bed and looked at his art. Treavor moved around the room, straightening things and moving his drawings around. Then he just sat on his bed and worked on another drawing until Fred called us for dinner.
The other kids were already seated. The only two seats remaining were at Morgan’s table. Fred asked someone to say grace then the feeding frenzy began. When Fred went into the kitchen Morgan reached across the table and took a biscuit off my plate. He set it on his and shook his head at me.
He was a big kid. He was wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off to show off his arms. He looked like he was about sixteen years old. He and his friend had shaved heads and wore their pants tucked into their military style boots. Morgan’s eyes were so dark they looked black. Treavor was sitting next to me. I could feel him shaking.
Morgan glanced at his friend and sneered, his friend shook his head. I took the opportunity to reach over and grab my biscuit back. I set it right in front of my plate, then I took up my fork and waited. Morgan looked into the kitchen to check on Fred. He was busy making his own plate so Morgan reached over to take my biscuit. I quickly drove my fork down, driving it through the biscuit, into the table. Morgan recoiled his hand. I wasn’t trying to stab him, just warn him off. He glared at me then glanced back into the kitchen. One of the other kids laughed. I pulled my fork loose from the table top.
The kid who was laughing got up and went in to the kitchen. He came back and put another biscuit by my plate. He gave me a quick nod and glared at Morgan. My eyes didn’t leave my plate until Fred came back in.
Some other kids started snickering. Fred sat down at his desk and looked at everyone. He saw how red Morgan’s face was and he chuckled. I watched a bead of sweat flow down Morgan’s forehead. He wiped it off with the back of his hand then glared at me when he saw me staring. I looked back at my plate. Fred knew how things worked. Treavor told me later that night that Fred was the best staff member at the home.
Most of the kids weren't too bad. Most of them could get through the counseling, job training and school without too much trouble. Some of them, like Morgan, had just given up trying, they were through being told they were bad and were just going to live up to it. He and his friend, Al, were members of the Aryan Nation, or something like that. They had swastikas and daggers and different stuff tattooed all over themselves.
The next week was pretty quiet. I got used to the routine. We had to wake up early, do our chores, eat breakfast and then a tutor would come in to work with us until . Then some of the kids would go to work or take care of court appointments or meet with the counselor.
I spent a lot of time talking to Treavor. We’d talk every night before we fell asleep. His mother had abandoned him when he was just a baby, and he was left in the care of the guy she thought was Treavor’s father. I guess the guy had doubted it because he would tell Treavor all the time what a slut his mother was. He and his father lived in different small towns all over northern Arizona
His father had taken him to visit some relatives in Phoenix
Treavor still hoped to go home. Not to be with his father, but to be in the woods again. When Treavor would fall asleep at night I would watch him until I did. Even then he didn’t look at peace. He spent most of the time mumbling and thrashing around. Something had been taken from him by someone, maybe by his father. Sometimes I would cover up my ears with my pillow. I didn’t like to hear the things that he would say in his sleep.
He was small too. One night when his nightmares were particularly bad I just gave up trying to sleep and watched him. I remembered thinking that if he shrank just a few more inches he would disappear.
When we had free time I would watch him draw and paint. Most of the time his teeth would chatter, as if he was cold. Then he would lie down in his bed and curl up. He looked no bigger than a basketball. He wouldn’t sleep, he’d just lie there and stare off, like I used to do when my father was in one of his rages. Then out of the blue, he would sit up and start talking and asking me questions.
Treavor would ask me about my mom a lot. Especially after her nightly phone calls. She was working as a waitress and putting in seventy hours every week. She was saving up for us to move back to Prescott Valley
“You gotta good mom,” he told me. I nodded and he proceeded to ask me a string of questions. Was she nice? Did she cook for me? Buy me clothes? I nodded again and held up my hand for him to slow down. I bit my lip when I felt the tears well up in my eyes. “Oh, good, moms should do that kinda stuff,” he finished.
On Friday, after my first week there, we got our allowance. Fred took us to the mall to spend it. The boys loved going to the mall to check out the girls and try to get phone numbers. It was the big event. We all rushed out of the van once we hit the parking lot. Thankful to leave our last tie to the group home, for at least a little while.
Treavor went to an arts and crafts store and bought a new sketch pad. We hung out with Manuel, the kid who I had impressed with the use of my fork. Manuel had been in the group home for nearly a year and a half. We had become friends and he was nice to Treavor. Before bedtime he would come to our room and we would do push-ups and sit-ups until we felt like passing out. Manuel was the only kid there stronger than Morgan. Since I was only going to be there for a month I was working on getting him and Treavor together. Maybe after I left Treavor would have someone to look out for him.
Manuel was telling me about his girlfriend and showing me pictures from his wallet while Treavor drew a picture. We were seated at a table in the dining area of the mall.
“In one more year I’ll be eighteen,” Manuel told me. “Then I’ll move in with my girlfriend and our baby. Then we’re gonna live right!” He stopped talking when Treavor started laughing. It startled us. “Is that you little man?” Manuel asked. We both laughed.
“Look,” Treavor said. He slid his new pad across the table. He was looking around as if he would get into trouble if anyone else saw it. It was a characiature of Morgan. He had a huge head and a tiny body. He was screaming and his tongue was hanging out of his mouth. He was holding up his hand, it had a fork sticking out of it. Then we all started laughing until tears came to our eyes. We jumped when something hit the table.
“What the fuck is this?” Morgan shouted as he picked up the pad. We hadn’t noticed the other kids coming up the the table. As usual, Morgan was wearing a sleeveless t-shirt. I watched the vein that ran down the length of his biceps, even when he was relaxed he looked like he was making a muscle.
Luckily Fred was with them. “All right, lets move on,” Fred said as he took the pad away from Morgan. He closed it and tried to hand it back to Treavor, but he wasn’t about to take it. Treavor started breathing again, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Morgan. Manuel had to hold the pad for him on our way back to the home.
Manuel, Treavor and I got to stay up late that night because we had been good. We hung out in the dining room and watched TV with Fred. The other kids had been sent to bed early after Fred had asked everyone where the big kitchen knife had disappeared to. No one knew, so we were going to be on shut down for the weekend. That meant that we could not go outside until someone returned the knife.
“Think he’s gonna run tonight, Fred?” Manuel asked. He was talking about Morgan.
“Pretty soon,” Fred nodded. Fred could figure any kid out. He told us that Morgan was just waiting for someone from his gang to come pick him up. I guess they were all down in Tucson
“Here’s a quarter Morgan, run up to Circle K and call one of your buddies. What’s wrong? Can’t the Aryan Nation afford a bicycle? Maybe they could get one with a banana seat for you and Al to ride back to Tucson
Fred was Hispanic and had grown up in south Phoenix
“He’s gonna be all right,” he told me, but he was looking away from me when he said it.
At a commercial Treavor ran to the back of the house to go to the bathroom. I started to wonder where he was when we wasn’t back when the show started. I went back through the kitchen to our room, and when I got to the hall way I could hear Morgan’s voice coming from our room. The ugliness of it made me pause for a moment in the hall.
“C’mon ya little freak! Want some?” Morgan was saying when I got to the doorway. He had thrown some of Treavor’s art on to the floor and was urinating on a pile of it. Treavor was huddled on his bed in the corner. He was holding his knees to his chest. I don’t think he was even looking at Morgan. He just stared off and shook. I could see blood flowing from his nose. For a second I froze. Then something caught my eye. Under our dresser I could see part of the handle of the missing kitchen knife. Treavor had been the culprit. I bent down quickly and grabbed it. Then something came out of me. A scream that came from my gut.
Morgan nearly fell down in order to back away from me. He pulled up his pants and looked towards the window. He wasn’t going to be able to use the door. Treavor came out of his trance and scooted across the bed to stand next to me.
“C’mon’!” I shouted at Morgan. I waved the butcher knife back and forth to hide the fact that it was shaking in my hand. He stood there for a moment, one hand clenched in a fist, the other holding his pants up. He dove for the window as I lunged forward and just made it out. Lucky for him Treavor likes to keep it open. I went after him and Treavor jumped on to his bed. Fred had got to our room by the time I had got outside. He yelled at me to stop or something, but I couldn’t make out the words over Treavor’s screaming.
“CUT HIM, SHANE!” He screamed so loudly his voice cracked. “CUT THE BASTARD!”
I was running away from Treavor’s words as much as I was running after Morgan.
“CUT ‘EM!” He screamed, “CUT ‘EM, CUT ‘EM, CUT ‘EM!” For Treavor and myself I decided that I would. Part of me wanted to stay in the group home. Maybe after this they would make me stay longer.
Morgan ran for the front yard. I could hear him grunting as we ran. He knew I was catching up to him. He came around the corner of the house and his foot got caught on a sprinkler head. He went down and I fell on top of him.
He had managed to roll over when I sat up on him. Treavor was still screaming from the back of the house. It sounded like he was sitting right on my shoulder, his mouth right next to my ear. I guess I was so angry that I was holding the knife the wrong way. When I brought the knife down to stab him I hit him in the temple with the butt of the handle. I quickly turned the knife around and raised my hand to strike him again.
It was fortunate for both of us that Fred had made it through the house to the front yard by that time. He grabbed my wrist before I could bring the knife down. I felt myself being lifted into the air, off and away from Morgan. He scooted away from me and felt his temple. It was cut where I had hit him with the handle. Fred took the knife out of my hand and pointed it at Morgan.
“Listen up Morgan!” Fred said. Morgan just glared and Fred kept talking for a while. He was letting Morgan know it was time for him to go. I could hear the words but nothing made any sense to me. My body began shaking and if Fred had let go of his hold on me I would have sunk to the ground.
“Fuck you!” Morgan screamed. It startled me and I focused on him for a moment.
Fred reached into his pocket and took out some change he threw it at Morgan. “You best go make that call. You done hurtin’ people here.” He said in a voice that scared me. I tried to get away from him but he kept his iron grip on my wrist. “Jump motherfucker,” Fred grunted.
Morgan ran.
Fred still had a hold of me. When Morgan was out of sight I started shaking again. I thought I was going to throw up. I started thrashing around and Fred had to hold me down. We sat on the steps for an hour or so. Fred was holding me in a bear hug with his legs thrown around me to keep me still. I screamed for a while, then I just cried. When I had caught my breath I asked him again about Treavor.
“He’s gonna be all right,” Fred said. “Don’t worry.”
“He was scared...man...”
“Treavor will be fine man,” Fred said.
I shook my head but didn’t argue. I was talking about Morgan and the way he looked when I was trying to stab him. I imagined it was what my father saw when he was coming after me. After a while Fred let me go and we sat together on the steps.
“I like Treavor,” I said. “He’s...he’s amazing...”
“Yes he is,” Fred said.
“Only kid here that...does somethin’...creative. Only kid not afraid to do what he likes to do. Strongest kid here...but he’s got it so hard...”
“I know...” Fred rubbed his jaw and looked up and down the street. “Learn from him. Learn from his example.”
I remembered giving Fred a disgusted look even though I knew it wasn’t his fault. I just didn’t understand what he meant. “Kids like Treavor and this kid Danny I knew in detention...what’s there to learn...its just fuckin’ unfair...”
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