Chapter 4—SATURDAY
Sammy woke up first. He looked at Chris’s digital clock. 5:14 was too early, so he rolled over thinking he would go back to sleep. The foam mattress on the floor of Chris’s room was comfortable enough, but he could not go back to sleep. He had too much to think about. Even if he could get out of his association with the Mavericks, there was Jeff to think about.
Jeff and Sammy used to be customers. Occasionally they would buy marijuana from a guy named Seth who was a year out of Lincoln High. Seth was funny and well liked, and he drove a nice car. Everyone said it was a dope car. Everyone knew Seth was a guy you could get stuff from. Everyone knew he was a Maverick. When Seth learned that Sammy went to Holy Cross, the wheels started turning in his head: as far as he knew, Holy Cross was an open market. Having someone on the inside could be potentially profitable. Indeed, very profitable.
Membership in the Mavericks was offered to both Sammy and Jeff. They talked it over before joining. The Mavericks were known to be a gang, but they preferred the term “organization.” It was also well known that they were not a warring gang, but rather one that belonged to a business class. Sammy and Jeff saw nothing but free grass and the opportunity to belong to the secret world of the Mavericks.
On the night of their induction into the organization, they were each given a handbook and instructions to memorize it, and guard it with their lives. They were sworn to secrecy regarding the contents of the book and anything relating to the Mavericks. After their swearing in, the other members beat the shit out of them. Sammy couldn’t believe what was happening. He thought it was a double-cross or some kind of a sick joke or maybe even a murder ritual. Then, as suddenly as they started, they stopped. Seth helped them to their feet and told them that if they ever betrayed the Mavericks in any way, what they just experienced would be nothing compared to what they would be in for. Then he shook their hands and congratulated them. The others gathered around to do the same. They were Mavericks.
Sammy looked over to the bed where Chris was sleeping. There was just enough of dawn’s early light to see his face mashed against the mattress, his lips and nose contorted. Sammy smiled at the sight. Chris was perfect. Well, as near perfect as any kid could be, and Sammy’s problem was that he just could not keep up. It was easier to let Chris go on and do his thing, pretending they had different interests. Sammy would have given anything to be like Chris, though. He idolized him, but could not let on that he did. The last thing he ever wanted to do was cause trouble for his cousin. Joining the Mavericks might not have caused a conflict, but he realized that the only reason the Mavericks let him in was to get the dope market at the Cross. It was not a big market, but it was growing. He did not see a lot of money, either, but Seth had told him to be patient. Soon, after he established a steady clientele, he would be allowed to introduce the good stuff. Then he would see some big bucks.
Sammy knew that he was the problem. He had become a disease and was deliberately injected into the young and healthy body of Holy Cross High. Chris knew it. Blaise knew it. Sammy’s plan was to never let Chris know what he was doing. In some deals he even had other students make deliveries for him in an attempt to keep his exposure to a minimum. It was a difficult charade, but it seemed sound enough. It was fun, too, to be honest. It was a game of high stakes, every trade a thrill. Was he sorry for what he had done, or just sorry that he got caught? Was he ashamed of what he had done, or merely embarrassed at being found out?
Sammy had two big problems: what would Chris and Blaise do, and what would Seth and the Mavericks do? Chris was not talking about it. All day Friday Chris acted like he always did back when they spent a lot of time together. And why not? It was he who had changed. He was the one, not Chris, who had run amuck, screwing things up. Was Chris putting off the inevitable? Did he have a plan to remove this cancer from his school? Sammy closed his eyes and envisioned Chris walking up to him. Chris grabbed Sammy in a tight embrace saying, “Sammy. Sammy! My very own cousin, Sammy!” Then Chris kissed Sammy very hard on the mouth and pushed him away. Sammy was shocked and embarrassed. He looked around and saw Blaise and a lot of other students looking at him while whispering to one another. There were Jesuits in long robes pointing at him while two police officers came up from behind and placed handcuffs on his wrists. They led him out of the room, but instead of seeing daylight and a squad car, they entered another room—a very dark room. The police officers removed the cuffs and lifted Sammy onto a table, forcing him to lie down. Then, several Mavericks gathered around and began pulling his clothes off as the cops left the room. They held him down to where he could not move, and a strip of duct tape was placed across his mouth. Then Seth appeared, smiling. Seth looked up and down the length of Sammy’s body. He reached out and touched him. His fingers walked like a spider across Sammy’s chest and then over his face. Sammy tried to talk, but only a muffled noise and snot came out of his nose. He tried to wriggle free, but could not move an inch under the tight collective hold of the Mavericks. The spider hand walked across his chest and down the flank of his abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch. The fingers traced the curve of his pelvis, crossed over his thigh, and abruptly ceased his balls in violent grip. Sammy screamed through his nostrils as every muscle in his body strained. Seth’s hand squeezed and twisted and pulled. Seth continued to smile as electricity ran through his hand into Sammy’s testicles and up through his gut. When the current reached his heart, everyone in the room vanished, and Sammy sprang forward to an upright position, gasping for breath.
His eyes raced around the room as he struggled to get free of the sheets and blankets that were wrapped around him. The luminous red numbers, 5:58, came into focus. The room was lighter now. He looked at the bed where Chris was sleeping, but Chris was not there. His heart was still pounding, though he was getting his breath back. The door opened and Chris came into the room, closing the door gently behind him.
“Where were you?” Sammy asked, still breathing fast.
“I went to the bathroom.”
“When?”
Chris looked closely at Sammy. “Just a minute ago. Are you alright?”
“Did you grab my nuts?”
“Your nuts?”
“My balls! Did you grab my balls a while ago?”
Chris started laughing. “I didn’t touch your balls. Honest, man. What are you talking about?”
Chris tried to look concerned while Sammy explained, “God, Chris. I just had a mother dog of a nightmare!”
“You dreamed that someone grabbed your balls?” Chris started laughing again.
“It’s not funny, Chris. I almost had a heart attack.” Sammy reached into his briefs and started feeling around, checking each one.
Chris really started laughing, and trying to keep from making too much noise, he fell onto his bed and buried his face in his pillow. Finally, finding everything in order, Sammy started to laugh a little, too. The sight of Chris cracking up into his pillow while wearing nothing but his shorts made Sammy feel more at ease. This was not the Chris who came to him in a bad dream. Chris was more than just a cousin. He was a good friend, and he knew how to make things better. He did not know how, but Sammy figured everything would be all right if he just left it to Chris.
When Chris was able to stop laughing, he sat up and said, “Well, since we’re up so early, you wanna go fishing?”
Kathleen’s mother told her to be careful. The idea of two kids like them going to San Francisco for the day frightened her. Her father was encouraging, however, and told them to have a good time. They had each been to San Francisco several times, but this would be their first trip together.
Blaise felt like he had to get away. He knew that he needed to leave Chris alone with Sammy for the weekend, and he wanted to be alone with Kathleen. The ocean air would help clear his head, and the sights would take his mind off of things. He and Kathleen w
ould have a good time, eat good food, and talk about the future.
As they crossed the Bay Bridge, Blaise could tell that Kathleen was having anxiety. “What are you worried about?” he asked.
“This is the bridge that collapsed during the earthquake.”
“Well, it’s not going to collapse today.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know. It’s going to be all right. Okay? And even if it does, we’re together, and that’s all that matters in the whole world. You and me.”
They found a public garage to park in, and then walked to the tracks where they caught a cable car and rode to Fisherman’s Wharf. They walked for miles with the wind in their faces while eating sour dough bread. They talked about school and friends. They looked at each other and took pictures. They asked strangers to take pictures of them together and they took pictures of strangers. The diversity of people in San Francisco was a delight for them to see. It was a bright variation from their routine days of school uniforms and conservative neighborhoods. Blaise loved what he saw. It was so different and made him think of life beyond high school.
“What do you want to do after you graduate?” Blaise asked.
“I want to go to college, but you know that. I’m not sure what I want to study, though.” Kathleen looked at Blaise and smiled. “Why? What do you think I should do?”
“I think you should do whatever you want.”
Kathleen looked out over the Bay. “I’d like to be a doctor.”
“You’d be a good one.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah. A pretty one, too.”
She giggled softly and pulled his head to her. She kissed him on the forehead and said, “What would you like to do?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot lately. I know exactly what I want to do.” He paused for a moment. Then, as if exposing his most personal thoughts, he said, “I’m going to join the Army.”
Kathleen tried to not let her surprise show. She could tell he was serious, but she also knew that it was not common for boys from Holy Cross to enlist in the Army. Most who wanted to go into the military went to one of the academies or a university with ROTC. She asked, “Why do you want to do that?”
“I want to be a soldier. I want to see the world. I want to do something on my own.”
“But why the Army?”
“I’m tired of people telling me what to do.” Blaise laughed and said, “Just kidding. No, seriously. I always wanted to be in the Army. And I’ve always wanted to enlist. It’s like something I have to do. I know I could go to college and be anything, but whatever it is I become, I want to be able to say I was a soldier. One day I’d really like to be the governor of California, but when that day comes, I want to be able to say that I was in the Army. I joined up.” Blaise looked into Kathleen’s eyes hoping to find understanding.
“What about us?”
“I want us to get married.”
“When?”
“When I finish Basic Training. I’ll come home, we get married, and then we go where the Army sends us.”
“What if you get killed in a war or something?”
“What if the Bay Bridge collapses on our way home?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Say you’ll marry me.”
“What if they send you to somewhere where I can’t go?”
“Then you’ll just have to wait for me. I’d still be your true loving husband.”
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“What if what doesn’t work?”
“Our marriage.”
“Why wouldn’t it work? You planning on running off with a better looking guy already?”
“I couldn’t find a better looking guy if I tried.”
“Then say you’ll marry me.”
“I’ll marry you, Blaise Bizet,” Kathleen said. Her eyes filled with tears and she wrapped her arms around him.
Blaise held her tightly. He breathed a sigh of relief, as though he had wagered his whole future on a single bet, and won. He whispered in her ear, “I have something for you.”
Kathleen let go of Blaise and her face brightened. “What is it?”
Blaise reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a small package. “A present.”
She snatched it from his hand and looked it over while turning it around and shaking it. “Blaise, you’re full of surprises today.” She carefully removed the wrapping and opened the box. “Oh my god! Oh, Blaise, it’s so beautiful.”
“It’ll be a reminder. So you’ll never forget that my heart belongs to you. And every time you see it, remember this day. After we graduate, we can officially get engaged, and I’ll buy you a ring, but until then, wear this necklace.”
Blaise fastened the chain behind her neck. A single diamond, set within a heart of gold, sparkled in the sunlight. “Oh Blaise, it’s lovely. Thank you.”
They hugged and they kissed. They walked on Fisherman’s Wharf and they held each other. They were happy. Blaise was very happy—not once, until the drive back to Sacramento, did he think about school.