Being prepared for the gauntlet did help somewhat as he pushed toward the back of the bus. A rush of different emotions—anger, fear, and disgust, to name a few—raced through him as he and Izzy were mocked, poked, and even kicked. And the names, Fat Boy, The Ten, Ugly and Uglier, he heard them all, as did JD, judging by the sick feeling in Max’s stomach. Why in the world he ever thought poking a little fun at JD was no big deal, he hadn’t a clue.
“My dad came home early,” Izzy said as they plopped down into the same seat as yesterday. Max was unsure if her dad’s early arrival was a good thing or a bad thing. “I faked another episode. It worked like a charm.” She laughed, lowering her voice. “I got a one month supply of Perc’s. Awesome, huh?”
“Hey, porky, what’d ya bring for lunch today?” The tall kid ripped Max’s backpack off his lap and dumped everything out onto the bus floor. Pencils, erasers and paper flew everywhere, along with his lunch.
“Stop it, Greg,” Izzy yelled, reaching across Max for the backpack. Via JD, Max sat stone-still. He didn’t reach for his bag. He didn’t try and stop Greg. He didn’t say a word.
“Hey, fat boy, you going to let Icky Izzy fight your battles for you?” Greg laughed.
Max watched as the tall kid tucked the lunch under his shoe and stepped on it, grinding it into the floor. The small paper bag tore under the pressure and Max’s new love, fried chicken, became garbage under Greg’s shoe.
Izzy jumped over Max and scooped up the rest of Max’s things and put them in the backpack.
“Greg Hendricks, sit down,” bellowed the bus driver. Greg tossed his head back, laughing as he returned to his seat.
It was downhill from there. At school, someone came up behind him as he climbed the stairs and grabbed his right foot. Max fell and cut his chin open, resulting in a trip to the school nurse for a Band-Aid. Twice, kids ran by him and knocked books out of his hands. Max got shoulder rammed, tripped, mocked, and humiliated at every turn. With the exception of a few teachers and one or two other nerdy kids who offered him secret looks of compassion, Max didn’t catch a break all day. And still no Emma. He debated about running over to her house just to see her. He could climb the magnolia tree in the wooded lot behind her house and no one would even know he was there. But unsure of JD’s tree climbing skills, and after the disaster yesterday during PE, he didn’t dare try. Besides, the plan sounded a little too stalker-ish.
When the final bell rang at the end of the day, he quickly dragged himself to the bus. No way was he going to go through what he did yesterday.
Izzy didn’t take the bus home, and Max worried that if she walked, she might have to endure what he went through with Nate. As they drove past the strip mall, Max searched through the dirty school bus windows, and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t see Nate’s car or Izzy anywhere.
“What you looking for, butthead? A life?” Greg laughed as if his lame joke was funny. He slid in next to Max and thumped his arm down roughly around his shoulders. Max’s heart rate jumped again. “Dude, why don’t you do the rest of the world a favor and put a bullet in your head?” Max’s mind jumped to Izzy, and a sick feeling seeped into his gut. He leaned closer to the window hoping Greg would let go of him. “I’ll even bring you the gun,” Greg whispered. The bus lurched to a stop before Max could respond, not that he would have. All his concentration centered on not vomiting, he was that scared.
Greg stood and hiked his backpack up on his shoulder. Shaping his hand like a pistol, he pointed it at Max and pretended to shoot him in the head. Laughing, he stepped off the bus.
Max slowly sauntered to the front of the bus, hoping Greg would be long gone by the time he got off.
“JD, why don’t you sit up here by me from now on? I can’t do much when the other kids bother you if you sit way in the back,” the bus driver said as Max started down the stairs. He only nodded, knowing it was hopeless. He was the last one on the bus. There were never any seats left up front.
“Kill anyone today, fat boy?” Tim stood outside the house as Max came jogging up. He stopped dead.
“I’m still waiting for my pen. Remember what happened last time?” His eyes narrowed on Max. He had no clue what happened last time, but he figured it couldn’t be good judging by how scared JD became when he mentioned it. Max shrugged his left shoulder, not knowing what else to do.
Tim laughed. “I guess we can thank the good Lord above for your head injury then, can’t we?”
A small rust bucket of a car pulled up with a flashy blond behind the wheel. Tim climbed in and they drove away.
Max went inside and went straight to bed. He needed a nap. He didn’t wake until the next morning.
“JD! Two days in a row. Come on, sleepy head.”
It took everything Max had to get out of bed. He again had to race to catch the bus. It was a repeat of the past two days, only this time it was just him. Izzy wasn’t on the bus. The taunts and teasing speared Max’s head. He tried not to listen, but heard each and every word. He tried chanting the sticks and stones rhyme from his childhood in his head, but it didn’t work either. Words did hurt, and they hurt deeply. Each insult, each joke at his expense, hurt JD’s heart, his soul, and made him feel worthless. And drained, completely drained. If Greg were to offer him a gun today, Max wasn’t so sure JD wouldn’t take it.
School was a disaster again. Because he’d fallen asleep as soon as he got home yesterday, he didn’t get his homework done. But Max just didn’t care. His only focus now was getting through the school day in one piece. He didn’t even care that Emma still hadn’t shown up at school.
Mr. Vetter, his seventh period science teacher, kept him after class to talk about the homework assignment he’d missed. To Max that meant one thing; he’d have to walk home again. Max tried to listen to Mr. Vetter’s words, he really did, but with the fear ratcheted up so high in JD, it was near impossible.
JD led Max down the same pathway, to the same strip mall, to the same dumpster. Lying in the pile of dog crap, Max gave up. It didn’t matter that he smelled bad. It didn’t matter that Nate vowed to find out where JD hid and beat the life out of him. None of it mattered anymore.
It took Max ten minutes to get the energy needed to crawl out of the dumpster, and instead of the usual ten minute walk home from the mall, it took him twenty.
“You’re pathetic. If you were my kid, I’d take you out back and shoot you,” Tim murmured as Max came through the door.
“If you were my father, I’d shoot myself.” Max didn’t know why he said it. JD’s usual fear of Tim was gone. In its place stood resignation. JD wanted Tim to beat him. JD hoped this time it would kill him.
Tim flipped out at the insult. He ripped an extension cord out of the wall and laid into Max. Max sunk to the floor and let him. He didn’t try to block the blows. He didn’t beg Tim to stop.
When it was over, Tim grabbed Max by his hair and dragged him into the bathroom, shoving him in the tub fully dressed. His glasses flew off his face as he slammed into the tub, breaking. “Don’t even think of coming out of here smelling like that.” Max laid in the empty tub for a long time. He had no idea how long, but it was dark before it even registered that he was still in the bathroom.
He stripped off his clothes, and turned on the shower, bathing in under three minutes. He wrapped a towel around him, went straight to his room, and crawled into bed, falling asleep within minutes.
“JD, you need to get up or you’ll miss the bus.” Max stirred, but didn’t get up. “Come on, sweetie. I know yesterday was rough. Tim told me some kids jumped you on the way home from school yesterday. He said they thrashed you pretty good.” Mel stroked his hair. “As soon as we get another car again, I promise, you won’t have to take the bus anymore.”
The bus. Not again. Max couldn’t do it. He opened his eyes and looked at Mel, clueless Mel. “I have a terrible headache. Can I skip school today, please?” It would be the first time Max missed a day of school since the fourth grade when he
fell out of a tree and broke his arm.
“What about the pain pills the doctor gave you?” She adjusted the sheet over his body.
“I didn’t think I’d need them, so I tossed them.”
“Alright. I’ll call and see if we can get more. You stay in bed and rest. Tim’s gone for the day with his friend. They’re going to the horse races.”
Max wondered if Tim’s friend was blond and female. He also wondered if Tim had a job, but he was too tired to ask. He needed sleep, and lots of it. When Mel closed his bedroom door on her way out, Max rolled over and tightened the sheet around himself. Nodding off, he offered a small prayer, “Please don’t let me wake up, ever.”
“Max. Max, you need to get up,” the voice urged from the darkness that encompassed him. Max drew his head up, but no one was there. He lay it back down on his flat pillow. His cheek landed on a wet spot, probably drool, but he just didn’t care. A few seconds later he heard it again. “Max, please, reach down inside and find your strength. You have to get up.” This time Max recognized the voice.
He peeled his eyelids back and found Gabe standing next to him dressed in stone-washed Levi’s and a tan Hard-Rock Café t-shirt.
“I can’t do this, Gabe. It’s too hard. The abuse never stops. Every day, all day, over and over. I just can’t do it.” Max closed his eyes again, wanting nothing more than sleep.
“Remember what I told you? I said you would feel JD’s emotions. You have given in to his feelings, ignoring your own.”
Max wondered why Gabe thought he’d even care what he had to say. He wanted out of JD’s body. “I’ll sit in a holding cell until my allotted time is up. If it takes fifty years, it takes fifty years. Anything will be better than this.”
“No, Max. Anything isn’t better than this. Where is your fight? Where is your will to win?”
“Gone. It’s on the bus, crushed into a pulp under Greg Hendricks’ size twelve shoe, or maybe it’s over at the school covered in pizza sauce. Wherever it is, it’s gone.”
Max rolled over, away from Gabe. He pulled the sheet down to his waist. “Do you see these? These are from Tim,” he said pointing a finger over his shoulder at the angry red streaks across his back.
Gabe turned away in disgust. “Yes, I know. I saw.” Gabe rubbed his face.
Max swung his legs around and settled them on the thin carpet. He looked at Gabe, a tear trickling down his face. “I’m so very sorry,” Gabe said gently. “I wish I could have done something. Unfortunately, we can’t just pop in and strike people like Tim down with a lightning bolt, as much as we’d like to. But we can use people like you to help. You can’t give up on JD. He needs you.”
“I didn’t give up on him. JD gave up on himself.” Max pulled the sheet around his naked body and stood. He wandered into the kitchen for a drink of water. Gabe followed.
“So that’s it. You’re going to desert JD.”
“No, Gabe. I told you, JD deserted JD.”
“Max, we put you here to try and influence him. We want you to teach him about perseverance. You’ve spent your life working toward goals. Think about the hours you spent in the gym making your body strong. No matter how hard the workout, no matter how tired you were, you pushed through it and came out a winner.
“Remember when you were thirteen and the pony league baseball coach told your dad you’d never amount to anything in baseball?”
“Yeah.” Max smiled and leaned up against the sink. “When we got home, my dad asked me if I wanted to give up or prove that moron of a coach he was wrong. I said, ‘Let’s show him he’s wrong.’ We went out every day, for two hours a day, practicing. I even practiced in the snow. I wasn’t about to give . . . up.”
Gabe smiled. “JD never had anyone teach him that. He’s spent his entire life hiding from everything, and for good reason. His father died when he was a small child, and he’s not had a loving father figure since to help him. His mother, well, there are times when she barely gets through the day herself. Often, she has little left in her to give. Her poor choice in men, seeking what she thinks is love, and not forgiving herself for mistakes made long ago leads her away from what truly matters. All these things weigh her down, and often leave her little to give her son.”
“Does she know Tim beats JD?”
“She doesn’t allow it, if that’s what you think. She’s steps in every time she’s aware of it. But JD’s seen his mother get beatings that pale to what you went through earlier when she’s defended her son. He’s taught himself to keep quiet when one of her boyfriend’s beat him.” Gabe’s angelic face went hard and he added, “Or worse.”
Max dropped his head back. How was he supposed to help JD when he felt hopeless himself? His head hurt again. He turned to the cupboard and searched for the aspirin.
“What are you looking for?” Gabe asked, coming up next to Max.
“Headache again. The doctors told me I’d be getting them for a while, thanks to the accident.”
“Here.” Gabe laid his hand on Max’s head. A warm sensation surged through him. The headache stopped.
“That’s handy.”
Gabe smiled. “Max, please don’t give up on him. You’re the only one who can help him at this point. You need to teach him how to reach inside himself, like you did when you were thirteen. Or the hundreds of other times you had to overcome adversity. You didn’t give up. You dug in and worked.”
“But his problems are ten times harder than mine ever were.”
“You can help him. Push out his negative thoughts, his fears. Don’t let them take you over. You’re his mentor. You must be strong.”
“But how? How can I help him fend off these bullies?”
“JD’s not alone, even though he believes that. Remember Coach? He wants to help him, only JD’s afraid to confide in him. He worries his mother will get hurt. There are others, too, that want to help, only he doesn’t see them yet,” Gabe said. “Please don’t give up.”
Max shuffled over to the couch and sank onto it. How much more did Gabe think he could take? He knew he’d break if one more burden landed on the already oversized load he carried.
Yet, how could he not try? He cared deeply JD, and he’d only been with him three and a half days. Guilt swamped Max for not helping him when he was alive. He should have offered him friendship, like Emma wanted. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“Okay. I’ll give it another try. But I need help. I need JD’s fears to stop controlling me. I can’t function when they do.” Max closed his eyes shut, frustrated. “Can’t you just shut them off? If I only had mine to deal with, maybe I could do this. But to have both is overwhelming.”
“You need to know what he’s feeling to help him, otherwise you won’t know if you’re on the right course,” Gabe explained. “Max, JD’s feelings are vital to your success. You have to control your response. And when you do, JD will learn how to control them also. Remember, what you do will become his memories. If you stub your toe, he will think it was him.”
Max rolled his eyes. He had no idea how he’d do this. “I’m not making any promises,” he warned.
“I know. But I have faith in you, and so do your parents.” Gabe turned and went back toward the bedroom. Max followed him, wanting to get dressed before Mel came home.
Gabe opened the bedroom door. “Look.” He pointed to the door frame. “The frame’s been broken and glued back together here.”
“It’s an old house. I’m sure many things have been glued back together,” Max answered, wondering why Gabe bothered to point out only one flaw in house laden with them.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Gabe nodded.
“Oh, Tim broke JD’s glasses. Can you fix them?”
“JD has contacts in the second drawer down.” He pointed to the dresser. “Nice ones too. He chooses to wear the glasses to hide behind.”
“Really? Good to know.”
“Thank you, Max.” Gabe snapped his fingers and disappeared.
&
nbsp; “Can you teach me how to do that?” he said to the ceiling.
Chapter 8
Max dug out the contacts and put them in first thing. “Much better,” he smiled. He then wandered around the house, trying to come up with a way to help JD. After puttering in circles for twenty minutes, he went outside, needing something new to look at.
The heavy burden JD carried still seemed overwhelming and hopeless most of the time, but Max had to admit being up and searching his mind seemed to help, a little anyway. He tipped his head back and squinted at the sky. He smiled at the brilliant blue, a rarity in Port Fare. Gray was the dominant color most of the year. Max inhaled a lung-full of the late spring air, hoping to clear his head, and relishing the fact that it was a dry air and not humid for once.
“Perfect day for running,” he said to himself. Then an idea hit. Whenever he felt the pressures of life getting to him, he went to the gym and buried himself in a hard, sweaty workout. JD needed to sweat. Plus, if Max could help him lose the last of the extra weight he carried around, the kids would have nothing more to tease him about. Wasn’t getting JD in shape his plan all along? Max couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. He could almost hear JD groan. “Trust me, buddy. This will work.”
He ran back to the bedroom and dug through JD’s dresser hoping to find some shorts. He did, wadded up in the back of the bottom drawer. He tugged the wrinkled up mess on and went into the bathroom. “I’m going to show you a trick,” he said to JD’s reflection in the mirror, “but don’t let your mother see it because she’ll have a fit.” At least my mom always did.
A twinge of sadness tugged at Max as he remembered his parents. He missed them so much. Max shook his head. “I can’t deal with my pain and JD’s at the same time. Stay focused.” He took a washcloth and saturated it. He twisted some of the water out, but still left it quite damp. He then rubbed the wet cloth over his shorts.
“This is what I call the High School Boy’s Iron. Now that the shorts are damp, my body heat will dry them and the wrinkles will fall out, all without using an iron. Easy, huh?” Max laughed, feeling a little self-conscious talking to himself. His mom would come unglued if she knew he’d taught that trick to JD. She was all about proper.