And Don't Bring Jeremy (9 page)

“Well, what do you know,” he said. “We have our own Ron Guidry right here on our blanket.”

I punched him in the arm and we ended up wrestling, the girls laughing the whole time. It suddenly hit me that I no longer felt like the new kid in school. People knew me; I had friends! I got so excited, I threw myself on Danny with all my might and managed to pin him to the ground.

The picnic only lasted an hour. The buses came to take us back to our school. Patty sat with me and Danny and Michelle shared the seat behind us. Patty and I didn’t talk much, but I liked having her next to me. I couldn’t wait until the sixth-grade party, which was right after graduation. It was being held in our school cafeteria, with a live disc jockey running the show. I made a mental note to remember to ask Danny if he knew how to dance, so he could teach me just in case I felt like asking Patty.

We were almost finished with the last set. Mrs. Casey wanted them all done a week before they put on the play so that everything would be ready without any rushing at the last minute. As we were putting the finishing touches on all the details, Mark ran into the art room, panting with excitement.

“Did you hear what happened with your brother and Eddie?” he asked me.

A tingle of fear ran up my spine. “No, how could I? I haven’t been home yet. What happened?”

“They had a fight in the junior high cafeteria.”

“Jeremy?” I couldn’t remember the last fight he’d gotten into, if you didn’t count the squabbles he had with Mom and me.

“Yep, Jeremy.” Mark was grinning, like my brother had
just won a prize or something. “And he gave it but good to that creep. Eddie was crying when the gym teacher came over and broke it up.”

“Why were they fighting?” Danny asked.

“Eddie pulled his usual. Insulted Jeremy as he walked by with his lunch tray. Called him a retard. Jeremy put down his books and his tray and punched Eddie in the mouth.”

I was afraid to ask but I had to know. “What did they do to Jeremy?”

“Called your mother, I think, and Mrs. Gordon. And I heard both of them had to stay in for detention.”

I had two feelings inside me which kept getting mixed up as each tried to cancel the other out. First of all, mad as I was at him, I was glad that Jeremy finally got back at Eddie, and proud that he’d knocked him down. But I was afraid. Terribly afraid. Knowing Eddie like I did, I was sure that this wasn’t the end of the incident. I just knew that he was going to retaliate and do something horrible. Jeremy was my brother, but Eddie was my friend, and for some stupid reason, I felt like I was in the middle of it all.

I got up from the floor where Danny and I had been working. “I better go home. I should be there when Jeremy comes in, I guess.”

Danny nodded, understanding. “See you tomorrow. We can finish this then.”

Jeremy walked into the house about half an hour after I got home. I was in the den when he unlocked the front door. I heard him go into the kitchen and throw his books on the table. I ran up the stairs.

“Hi,” I said, suddenly nervous.

“Hi,” Jeremy answered. He took a container of Tropicana out of the refrigerator and started drinking from it.

“Don’t do that,” I said before I could stop myself. “Mom will be mad.”

“Mom’s not here and I’m just finishing it up.” He tossed the container toward the sink, about a foot from where he was standing. It fell on the floor. Disgusted, he picked it up and put it into the garbage.

“I had a fight with Eddie Gordon today. Mr. Helmsley made us stay after for detention.” He spoke as if it was no big deal, like it was something that happened every other day.

“I know.”

He gaped at me. “Who told you? Mom?”

“Mark. He stopped over at school while I was working on the sets.”

“I guess everyone knows about it.” He didn’t sound proud or embarrassed, just matter-of-fact.

“What happened?” I asked. “Mark said he called you a name.”

“Yeah, and I just about had enough of him so I let him have it.”

“Is Eddie okay?”

“Yeah!” Jeremy was suddenly angry. “What do you care so much about him for? I’m your brother. Don’t you care that he insults me all the time?”

“Sure I do,” I answered, feeling guilty. I’d never told Eddie to stop insulting Jeremy, since I knew it wouldn’t make any difference, except to get him mad at me. But I couldn’t help it. I liked Eddie, in spite of his faults.

“He’s a jerk,” Jeremy said sullenly. “It’s about time somebody put him in his place. I don’t know why someone didn’t do it sooner.”

“Yeah, well,” I began, “but to hit him like that.”

“He’s no good,” Jeremy went on. “I
know
he put that
shaving cream all over Laura Lee’s locker and I told him so again. He did it because he doesn’t like her, and to get Mark in trouble.”

“What does he have against Mark?”

“I heard some kids say that he tried to be good friends with Mark—taking him to ball games and stuff like that. Until Mark got sick and tired of his turning nasty for no reason at all and told him to get lost. So Eddie got even by making it look like Mark sprayed Laura Lee’s locker.”

“I can’t believe that,” I said.

Jeremy looked me straight in the eye. “You know, in some ways you’re a lot dumber than me.”

“Thanks,” I said angrily.

“If you’re so smart,” he said, “you’d never have gotten mixed up with Eddie Gordon.”

“That’s how much you know,” I said loudly, to make my point. “Maybe there’s a side of Eddie that you don’t know about. For example, how he was the only kid around here to become my friend. I didn’t notice anyone else taking the trouble to include me until he did.”

“Did you ever stop to think, Mr. Smarty Pants, that maybe Eddie got friendly with you because he has no friends? He sits alone in the cafeteria and on the school bus.” And with that, he stomped out of the kitchen and up to his room. He slammed the door so hard I was sure it would come off its hinges.

Mom came home soon after that and went upstairs to talk to Jeremy. Dad had a talk with him, too, after supper. Finally, around nine o’clock, Jeremy came down to watch TV in the den with the rest of us. As far as I could see, he didn’t seem at all upset.

“Did they ground you again?” I asked when Mom and Dad went into the kitchen for a second cup of coffee.

“Nope,” he said, grinning. “They don’t care what Mr. Helmsley says; they don’t blame me one bit for what I did.”

I couldn’t help grinning. “I must admit you probably gave Eddie the shock of his life when you smacked him one.”

“Right on the kisser,” Jeremy said, swinging his fist. “Right on the kisser.”

I watched some TV, then took a shower and got ready for bed. Mom called up around a quarter after ten for me to put the light out, that I had school the next day, like she always did. I lay there in the dark, not at all tired. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fight between Jeremy and Eddie. Somehow, even though I hadn’t been thinking about it much all evening, I knew it was of special significance to me. It had a greater effect on me than even the time that Eddie had claimed I’d thrown him a wild ball and punched me.

Maybe up until now I’d refused to look at the rotten things Eddie had been doing all along because I was flattered that he wanted me as his friend. I felt a twinge of shame. All along Eddie had been insulting Jeremy—calling him names and provoking him—and I hardly ever even tried to stop him.

But Eddie was especially nice to me, I reminded myself. He worked with me on my pitching and gave me baseball cards.

I glanced at my clock. It was a few minutes past eleven. Suddenly I wanted a glass of milk. I got out of bed and walked past my parents’ room. The door was closed and I could hear the sound of the TV. Downstairs, I was surprised to find Dad drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen table.

“Still up?” he asked.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I guess so,” I said, not sure where to begin.

Dad said nothing. He was good that way, knowing when to stay quiet.

“I wish I didn’t have a brother like Jeremy. I wish I had someone normal. Someone who could play ball and…” Crying, I crept into my father’s lap.

Dad held me until I calmed down. I never expected to say those things! They just came out.

“Sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean… I mean, I love Jeremy. He’s my brother, but…”

Dad patted my back. “Don’t apologize for your feelings, Adam. Your mother and I wish that Jeremy could function like other thirteen-year-olds, but we know he can’t. It’s hard on all of us, but hardest on Jeremy. He knows, better than any of us, how hard it is to live in a world where everyone can do things he has to struggle with.”

“I guess so.” I thought of Jeremy having so much trouble with his schoolwork and knowing that he had no friends because he was different. I wondered how it must feel to
know
that you couldn’t do lots of things kids even younger than you could handle easily.

“Then there’s Eddie,” I said after a while. “I don’t know what to do about him. He’s my friend, and then I think—how could I have him as a friend when he’s so nasty to my brother?” I looked Dad in the eye. “Do you think I should stop being his friend because of how he treats Jeremy?”

Dad sighed. “I suppose it would be easiest for you if I told you not to be his friend, but that’s not how it works. It’s up to you, Adam. You have to
choose your own friends and be able to decide if a person isn’t for you. My telling you not to see Eddie is like telling you how to feel about him.”

I thought about it. It was up to
me
to decide whether or not I wanted to
keep Eddie as a friend.

Dad laughed. “Don’t look so serious, Adam. I have faith in you that you’ll come up with an answer.”

“I guess one thing I
do
know is that, no matter how he is, Jeremy is my brother, and I’ll stick up for him.”

Having reached this conclusion, I yawned.

Dad stood up and patted my shoulder. “I think you’ll be able to sleep now.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I hugged him and went up to my room. It was only as I was drifting off to sleep that I realized that I never had my glass of milk.

* * *

But Jeremy’s victory didn’t last very long. The next day he left for school before I did. I was eating my cereal when he ran back into the house, swinging something long and furry from his outstretched hand.

“Look at this!” he shouted indignantly. “Just look at this!”

“Ick! Get that away from me!” I shouted. Mom gasped. It was a small squirrel. Dead. A string was tied tightly around its neck, from which hung a sign saying “For the re-tard.”

“That no-good, rotten Eddie Gordon,” Jeremy sputtered, barely able to get the words out. “Can you believe he did this?” he asked incredulously. “He’s mad at me so he goes ahead and kills a poor, innocent squirrel.”

I was disgusted. So were Mom and Dad.

“I’ll have a word with his father,” Dad said.

“But Leonard,” Mom protested, “we have no proof.”

We all turned to her, frowning.

“Well, it’s true,” she said shakily but firmly. She looked at me. “And he’s your friend, Adam, isn’t he? Would Eddie really do a thing like this?”

“No. Maybe. I—I don’t know,” I said, suddenly confused.

Dad went and got a shoebox and put the dead squirrel inside. “Go catch your bus, Jeremy. I’ll dispose of this, and your mother and I will decide what we’re going to do.” He looked at me. “And you finish your breakfast, if you can.”

I was steaming mad about the dead squirrel all the way to school. What a horrible, disgusting thing to do. Jeremy had to be right about Eddie and Laura Lee’s locker. But the squirrel. Ick! That was even worse. This was it, as far as I was concerned. Eddie was no longer my friend. I thought about him and all the good things he’d done for me, like helping me with my knuckleball and giving me baseball cards and being my friend when no one else was. I felt like crying. No matter how many bad things he’d done, it still hurt to lose a friend.

I didn’t get a chance to tell Danny about the squirrel until our class went to the library.

“What are you going to do about it?” he whispered.

“I’m going to talk to Eddie this afternoon. At practice.”

“What good will that do?” Danny asked. “He’ll only deny it.”

Suddenly Mrs. Hammel was standing between us. “Daniel and Adam, do you wish to stay in with me during recess?”

“No, Mrs. Hammel,” we answered contritely.

“Then conduct yourselves properly in the halls,” she said severely.

I looked down, but not before I caught Danny’s wink.

That afternoon we put the finishing touches on the office set. Mrs. Casey stopped by and said it was a terrific job. Then we grabbed some kids to help and carried all three sets to the auditorium, where they were rehearsing the play. The cast stopped saying their lines while we leaned the sets against the back of the stage. Mr. Landon, Patty and Michelle’s teacher, stood with his hand on his hip watching us. As we were leaving he let out a dramatic sigh and told the kids to go on with the rehearsal, since there couldn’t possibly be any further interruptions. In the hall Danny and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. We were a full five days ahead of schedule. We grabbed our books and left the school.