Chapter 9—THURSDAY
Blaise looked over Chris’s shoulder. “Looks like Sammy’s got some new friends.”
Chris turned around to see Sammy having lunch with Terry, Cory, Brian, and Joey. They were talking about the adventure they had the night before. Cory appeared to be holding their attention with a tale of his own. When he told them how he identified himself as Justin Case, they broke into hysterical laughter.
Chris went back to eating. “Well, I guess he’s back.”
“That’s a good bunch of guys there, Chris. I’m glad it all worked out.” Blaise finished his milk and crushed the box between his hands. “For Sammy, anyway; but, I hope this thing doesn’t backfire.”
“I wouldn’t worry. If anything happens, I’m sure the guys can handle it.”
“Wow. What’s with you? I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say don’t worry.”
“I just figure there’s more to life than worrying about everything. I’ve been missing too much. Jeez, Blaise; there’s so much more to do than what I’ve been wrapped up in lately.”
“Oh, I get it.”
“You get it? You get what?”
“Tracy Miller. Yes, my friend, there’s a whole other world out there.”
Chris smiled. “Yeah well, I just need to lighten up, ya know. I’m not even seventeen yet. The way I see it, there’s plenty of time to make the world a perfect place, and if I’m gonna do it right, I’ve got to start with myself.”
“The man in the mirror.”
“Exactly.”
“Good,” Blaise said, standing up to leave. “Chris, I’m glad to hear it. You’re a good man, and I’m proud to have you for a friend.”
“Thanks, Blaise. That really means a lot to me.”
“I really mean it, too, Chris.”
“I know you do. Thanks.”
They dropped off their trays and made their way through the cafeteria, each one stopping to talk to somebody. Blaise made it a habit to talk to the freshmen. They looked up to him and talked to him like he was a celebrity. He liked being the big brother and role model. Chris tended to engage the older students and talk about school activities. When he came to the table where Sammy was sitting, the lunch hour was nearly over.
“Good job last night you guys.” Chris shook hands with everyone. “You make a good team. Thanks for helping out.”
“We had a blast doing it,” Terry said. “Wish you were there.”
“Wish I was, too.”
After school, Chris left with Sammy. They sat in the living room at Sammy’s house, and Sammy told Chris the whole story. Sammy was explaining how Brian had rigged him with exploding fake blood when the doorbell rang.
There were two well-dressed men at the door who flashed badges and introduced themselves as Detectives Orman and Bykowski.
“How can I help you, detectives?” Sammy tried to speak calmly, but his heart was pounding violently.
The older Detective Orman said, “Is this where Samuel White lives?”
“I’m Sammy White.”
The detectives looked at each other and shrugged. Bykowski took out a notepad and asked, “Do you know a Seth Johnson?”
Sammy thought for a moment. He looked at Chris, then back and said, “I go to Holy Cross. I don’t think I know anyone there named Seth.”
“According to Mr. Johnson, you were murdered by your classmates last night for being a member of his gang,” Bykowski said.
Sammy looked puzzled. “I don’t get it.”
“We have him in custody and he’s looking at some real time. He’s trying to cut himself a deal by trading information. Unless we’ve looked up the wrong Samuel White, well, there’s obviously been some kind of misunderstanding. Sorry to bother you gentlemen.”
“No bother, detective.”
The detective put his notepad back in his pocket and started to leave, then said, “Just one more thing…”
“Yes?”
“There was a 9-1-1 call last night reporting gunfire. Would you know anything about that?”
“No sir.”
“Does the name Justin Case mean anything to you?”
“No sir.” Sammy laughed a little and said, “That can’t really be someone’s name, though, can it?”
The detective looked at Sammy as if he were trying to read his thoughts. “I’ll bet you’re right: there’s a lot of wise cracks making 9-1-1 calls. Well, thank you. Have a good day.”
“You, too.” Sammy closed the door, leaned up against it, and slid to the floor.
Chris peered through the drapes and said, “They’re leaving.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god, Chris. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”
Blaise was down in The Paper finishing up some work. He looked at his watch and decided it was time to go rescue Johnny from Brother James’s after-school experiment club. He placed his papers in his backpack, turned the lights out, and opened the door to leave. While his eyes were adjusting to the darkness, the first blow caught him on the left side of his head. A burst of fireworks sparkled before him as he tried to regain his sight and balance. Someone took him by the lapels of his blazer and pulled him out of the classroom, throwing him to the concrete floor of the basement hallway. Suddenly aware of the fact that someone was trying to kick his ass, Blaise lunged forward to retaliate. He took another hook on the side of his head, but managed to wrap his right arm around his assailant’s neck and pull him down. Just as he was about to lay into the guy’s face with his left fist, someone else was lifting his legs off the ground. He lost his grip and fell helplessly to the floor. While being kicked by a third attacker, Blaise rolled to his right and grabbed hold of two legs and wrenched them with everything he had until their owner toppled. The other two menaces wailed on him as he groped for something to hang on to. Blaise managed to get into a position where he could inflict some pretty good hits on the one he had brought down, but it was not long before the other two pulled him away. They suddenly stopped. They left him and ran down the hallway to the exit. Blaise could only see enough to confirm that there were three of them.
He sat up and leaned against the wall. The pain in his left side and head began to throb as he took a mental inventory of parts of his body that were hurt. He looked at his left hand and saw the blood, but the exit lamps did not put off enough light to determine if the blood was his own. He closed his eyes and could feel the swelling on the left side of his face, the sharp pain in his cheekbone, and stinging lip.
After catching his breath, Blaise stood up slowly. He used the wall for balance, and then leaned against it. He took a few steps and stopped. He felt nauseous and dizzy, so he sat down again and closed his eyes.
Johnny descended the stairs into the darkened hallway. He found the light switch at the bottom of the stairs and flipped it on. Blaise heard him coming and looked up, but what he saw was a clear Johnny standing next to a blurry twin. “Hi there Johnny. Sorry I’m late, but I got held up on my way to get you.”
Johnny looked at Blaise more closely and said, “Good god, Blaise.” He knelt down beside him and examined the swollen eye. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. There were three of them.”
“Three? Who?”
“I don’t know. They jumped me when I came out of The Paper.”
“Can you walk?” Johnny grabbed Blaise under the arms trying to help him up.
“Ouch-oh. Damn that hurts.”
“Man, they worked you over good. We’ve got to get you some help. I’ll call an ambulance. Stay right here.”
“No. Don’t call. I’ll be fine.”
“Blaise! You’re not fine. Look at yourself.”
“Yeah? Well what am I supposed to tell the police?”
“Tell them you got jumped in the hallway.”
Blaise hobbled, his arm around Johnny for support. “Johnny, what if the guys who jumped me are
your friends from last night? Then what do we tell the cops?”
“Wait a sec.” Johnny bent down. “You must have dropped your wallet.”
Blaise looked at the billfold in Johnny’s hand. “That’s not mine.”
Johnny opened it and took out the California driver’s license. “Jason David Arnold.”
“That eliminates the Mavericks. If we find Jason with a fat lip tomorrow, we can safely assume he was one of the three.”
“Who do you think the other two were?”
“Vince Januzi, no doubt, and one of his stupid friends. Hopefully they each have a fat lip.”
“So you got some hits in?”
Blaise looked at his hand. “I hope so. I either got some teeth, or I was just hitting the wall. I spent most of the time trying to protect my face and my balls.”
“I hope you did a better job of protecting your balls than you did your face.”
“I think my balls are the only part of my body that doesn’t hurt right now. Johnny, you have to drive us to Chris’s house.”
“You need to go to the hospital. Besides, I don’t have a license.”
“Sure you do, Jason.”
“Oh thanks.”
“I still can’t go to the hospital, even if it wasn’t the Mavs. I need to see Chris. I can’t go home like this either. I’ll have to spend the night at Chris’s house, and I need your help, okay?”
“Okay. Let’s go.” Johnny helped Blaise get up the stairs and then to his car where he held the door open so Blaise could gingerly lower himself into the passenger seat. When Johnny reached in to fasten the seatbelt around Blaise, he got a good look at the extent of the injuries on his friend’s face. As he strapped himself in the driver’s seat, Johnny said, “I’m a really good driver, ya know. I’ve got my permit.”
“I know.”
“I still wish you’d let me take you to the hospital.”
“Chris’s, Johnny. Please.”
“Hang on.” Johnny drove cautiously knowing that any little bump would be painful for Blaise. He pulled into an ARCO station, parked, and started to get out.
“What are we doing here?” Blaise asked.
“I’m getting some ice for your head.”
“Good idea. Thanks.”
Sammy drove Chris home. They sat in the car for a while talking. “I wish I had a date Friday night,” Sammy said. “I’m not gonna smoke pot anymore.”
Chris looked puzzled and started laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“You kill me. You wish you had a date. You’re not gonna smoke pot anymore. What are you talking about?”
“You know why I haven’t asked a girl out for so long?”
“You’re gay?”
Sammy laughed and slugged Chris in the arm. “Because I’ve been in love with smoking pot. I think it’s diminished my sex drive.”
“You still think about girls, don’t you?”
“Not really.”
“Cuz, you gotta fix that.”
“I know.”
“Here’s what you gotta do: every time you feel like you want to fire one up, think of a girl you’d like to go out with. Then, call her up and ask her out. Or, before you call her, write a poem for her. A love poem. Then go see her and read her the poem.”
“Poetry?”
“Poetry.”
Sammy started laughing and said, “I could do that.”
“There ya go. You’ll be the ladies’ man before you know it.”
“Poetry. Why didn’t I think of that? Sammy breathed a sigh. “Now I really want to find a date.” He reached inside his pants to adjust himself. “I think it’s working already.”
“See, it’s like magic.”
“Or else it’s just you. I don’t know, maybe I am gay.”
Chris got serious. “Sammy, if you weren’t my cousin, I’d definitely be gay. I love you, man.” He looked out the rear window and saw Blaise’s car pull in behind them.
Johnny jumped out of the car and ran up to the house. He looked at Sammy’s car and saw Chris getting out.
Chris called to him, “Were you driving the Blaise mobile?”
Johnny ran over to the Camero. “Blaise is hurt pretty bad, Chris. I tried to take him to the hospital, but he wouldn’t let me.”
Chris and Sammy hurried to Blaise’s car. When Chris saw Blaise holding a bag of ice on his head he said, “Holy shit! What happened?”
“Just help me get in the house,” Blaise said, unable to hide the pain as he twisted to get his feet out of the car. Johnny and Sammy helped him up. Chris closed the car door and ran ahead of them to unlock the house.
When they were inside Chris said, “Take him to my room. I’ll get some towels.”
“Get me some aspirin while you’re at it.”
Blaise sat on the bed, and Johnny and Sammy helped him get his jacket and shirt off. Chris handed Blaise a couple of aspirin tablets and a glass of water, and then offered him a wet cloth. “Look up Dave Clark,” Chris said, handing Johnny his address book. “Tell him to get over here fast. Tell him to bring his aid bag.” Chris left the room again while Johnny dialed and Sammy wiped blood off Blaise’s face.
Chris returned with a bottle of Jim Beam. He poured some in a glass and handed it to Blaise. “Drink this. It’ll take the edge off. Did you get a hold of Dave?”
“He’s on his way,” Johnny said.
Chris took some clothes out of a drawer and handed them off to Sammy. Then he picked up a flashlight and looked at Blaise’s face closely. He shined the light in Blaise’s battered eye and moved the beam back and forth. “Dave’ll fix you up, Blaise. It doesn’t look too bad. Who did this?”
“Some old friends.”
Johnny handed Chris Jason’s wallet. “Yeah. They left in such a hurry, too.”
Chris looked in the wallet. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Who else?”
“Two other guys,” Blaise said. “I couldn’t tell who they were. They never said anything. It was dark. I only saw shadows when I wasn’t seeing stars.”
Chris picked up the phone and dialed.
Blaise held up an empty glass. “Give me another shot.”
“Terry. Yeah, how’s it going? Look, we’ve got a problem. You’d better just get over here. Okay, thanks. See ya.”
Blaise had on one of Chris’s sweatshirts, and, with his face cleaned up, looked a lot better. Sammy wrapped some ice in a towel and helped him lay down.
“Oh this has been just one hell of a day,” Blaise said, holding the cold pack to his face. He closed his eyes. “What am I gonna tell Kathleen? She gets so upset over things like this.”
The doorbell rang. “That’ll be Dave.” Chris ran out of the room.
Dave came in and pulled the chair over beside the bed. “Kathleen do this to you, Blaise?” Dave opened his bag and took out some first-aid supplies.
“Very funny. How’s it look, doc?”
Dave looked Blaise over while pulling on latex gloves. “Not too bad. I can tape this up here so it’ll heal properly. Open your mouth. Yuk. You really should get that stitched up.” He felt Blaise’s shoulders and moved down his arms. “Anything hurt?”
“No. It feels all right now.”
Dave felt his chest and ribs, pressing. “Hurt?”
Blaise groaned when Dave pressed on his left side.
“You might have a cracked rib, buddy. What are you doing here? You should have gone straight to the ER.”
Blaise took a deep breath. “I’ll be all right. If I still hurt tomorrow afternoon, I’ll go see a doctor.”
Dave started taping the cut over Blaise’s eye. “Tomorrow afternoon?”
“I’ve got a speech to give in the morning.”
Dave laughed. “I can’t wait to see that.”
The doorbell rang. “That’ll be Terry.” Chris did not move as fast as before, and he closed the door to his ro
om. He spoke with Terry in the front room, bringing him up to speed, and then went to the kitchen to set out some food.
Terry went to the bedroom and joined in the process of making Blaise more comfortable. After a few minutes, he asked to be alone with Blaise.
Johnny, Sammy, and David went to the kitchen where Chris was pouring Pepsi into ice-filed glasses. He handed drinks to Sammy and David and told them to have a seat. He picked up two more drinks and said, “Johnny, come with me.”
Johnny followed Chris into the living room. Ice jingled in the glass as Chris handed it to him. They sat down on the couch and Johnny watched Chris set his drink down and pick up a large envelope, which he seemed to stare at while running his forefinger up and down the sides and across the top. They could hear Sammy and David laughing about something in the kitchen.
“I want to thank you for what you did,” Chris said, still staring at the envelope.
“What did I do?”
“You know—that thing with Sammy and the Mavericks.” Chris spoke softly and finally looked at Johnny. “It was pretty cool what you did. I just want to say thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I was glad to be of service. But then, so was Terry and the other guys. I think if you and Blaise wanted the moon, they’d figure out a way to get it down. They’re good friends.”
“Yes, they are. They’re real good friends, Johnny. Right now Terry’s in there, and I hate to think what he might have in mind for whoever did that to Blaise.” Chris stared off into the distance thinking about so many different things at once. It was all catching up with him and he felt as though he might break any moment.
“Are you alright, Chris?” Johnny still did not know how to take Chris. He felt a little awkward not knowing what to say or do while thinking that Chris looked like he might start crying.
Chris set the envelope on his leg and pressed his fingertips to his eyes, rubbed them, and took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’ve just got too much on my mind. I need to lighten the load I guess.” He took the envelope and handed it to Johnny.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a picture I want you to have.”
Johnny removed to photograph from the envelope and held it up. “I’ve seen this picture before.”
Chris leaned over close to Johnny and looked at the print. “That little Polish boy never did anything to hurt anyone. Neither did his family, I imagine, nor anyone else he ever knew. But he was Jewish, you see. They believed that the Jews were responsible for all their problems. There are still people in the world who feel that way. There are Catholics who feel that way about Protestants, and there are Protestants who feel that way about Catholics. They call each other names, Johnny. Terrible names. And they teach their children unbelievable lies, and of course, the children believe their parents and they grow up hating and believing it’s right to do so.
“I’ve spent a lot of time lately thinking about how much better things would be if we all learned to get along. I don’t like the word ‘tolerance’ though; it implies something bad about other people that we put up with. We have to work at accepting people for who they are and appreciating the fact that they’re different. The NAZIs couldn’t do that. And then they had to dehumanize the Jews in order to legitimatize what they were doing. This picture has reminded me that we live in a world where people will rationalize their evil and accept a false view. You’ve helped me see how knowing the truth sometimes means you have to take a stand and fight for what is right; even if it’s a hard thing to do. So thanks. This picture is forever etched into my memory and so I don’t need it anymore. Let it remind you of a time when you did something to help my cousin get back on the right track. Maybe one day you’ll give it to someone else and little by little we can make the world a better place.”
“Thanks, Chris. That really means a lot to me. You and Blaise have really brought a lot of change into my life lately. All for the better, I might add. Gee, I don’t know what else to say, man. I feel like I should give you a hug or something.”
Chris sighed. “Just drink your Pepsi, bro.”
“Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”
Terry sat down and looked at Blaise. “Did you see anything before you were hit?”
“No.”
“Were you aware of anything unusual before the attack?”
“No.”
“What do you remember thinking about after you were hit?”
“At first, I thought something had fallen on me. Then, when someone grabbed my jacket and yanked me out into the hallway, I knew someone was trying to kick my ass.”
“You didn’t see who it was?”
“I couldn’t see anything. You know how dark it is down there when the lights are off. I could just make out shadows. I can only say that there were three of them.”
“Did they say anything to you?”
“Nothing. In fact, it was kind of spooky.”
“You found Jason’s wallet at the scene, right?”
“Johnny found it.”
“Can you think of any reason Jason might have been in the area other than to kick your ass?”
“No, he never goes down there.”
“How long was it from the time they left and Johnny found you?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe twenty minutes.”
“What did you do after they left?”
“I stood up and tried to walk, but then I started feeling sick and dizzy. I sat down, closed my eyes. I waited for the dizziness to go away.”
“What happened next?”
“I sat there trying to think of who would do this to me. I could only think of Sammy’s gang friends.”
“But finding Jason’s wallet makes you think it wasn’t the Mavericks, right?”
“Unless Jason’s a Maverick now.”
“Jason doesn’t do anything that Vince doesn’t tell him to.”
“I know.”
“Okay, Blaise, what do you want to do?”
Blaise closed his eyes in thought. “I don’t know. I wish I could make peace with those guys.”
Terry shook his head. “Blaise, you can’t always get people to see the world the way you do. How are you going to make peace with a bunch of thugs?”
“I don’t know that, either. Maybe they just need a little exposure. I could start giving them a little more attention, you know, put them in the spotlight. We can only see how it goes tomorrow.”
“You’re the man.” Terry stood up and opened the door. “You feel like you’re going to be all right?”
“I’m good. Thanks. Could you hand me the phone? I need to call my girl.”