Hero–Type (10 page)

"Look, don't ... Don't tell anyone this," she says, looking over her shoulder quickly. She has a slight overbite; I love it. "Don't tell anyone, but..." Her voice, already low, drops even further—I can barely hear her and I'm right next to her. "I really admire what you're doing."

You could punch me in the face with brass knuckles and not stun me half as much.

Then she walks off before I can respond, which is good because my response probably would have been something along the lines of "Abba-dabba-ga-dabba-boo." Only not so articulate.

Wow. Leah Muldoon hates America, too. Cool.

I
DIDN'T THINK
I
WAS "DOING" ANYTHING AT ALL
, much less anything admirable, but if Leah thinks so, maybe there's something to it. Maybe I
should
be doing something.

I start thinking about the stuff I read on the media center computer. I have this really wild idea.

If Leah was impressed by me throwing away some magnets, I bet I can
really
get her attention.

I can't start right away, though, because Flip has called a Council meeting at SAMMPark right after school. I head to the park and get there just as Flip pulls up with Fam and Jedi.

"Hail, Fool," I say, waving to them.

They hail me right back, and Jedi goes all
vvvvvvvhhhnnn, vvvvvvvhhhnnn
as Fam comes up to me. She looks concerned.

"How are you handling all this, Kross? You doing all right?"

"I'm—"

"He's fine!" Flip shouts from the park entrance. "Come on!"

"I'm OK," I tell her. She puts a hand on my arm and nods this sad little nod, and I suddenly find myself wondering: Is she
hitting
on me? Flip's girlfriend? God, please, no, let that
not
be happening. Fam is a buddy, a pal. And she's Flip's girlfriend. I mean, yeah, Flip treats her like crap, but Flip pretty much treats
everyone
like they're interchangeable parts in some model kit he's putting together. It's nothing personal.

I shake her hand off and go into the park, just in time to see Flip slapping the statue of Susan Marchetti on the ass.

"Baby, you are looking
fine!"
he says. "You are one
hard
body!"

I look over at Fam. I can't tell if she's upset or not. She just sort of looks resigned to it, right up to the moment that Flip grabs her by the wrist and pulls her close and kisses her. "And
you
are soft and squishy, just like I like it."

OK, whatever.

A few minutes later, Speedo and Tit arrive. They ride the same school bus, which takes them right past the park.

Flip leads all of us to a secluded area of the park, where we can talk in private. After a quick round of "Hail, Fool," he gets right down to business.

"OK, fellow Fools, we have a problem. One of our own has been assaulted."

Murmurs of agreement. An undercurrent of
vvvvvvvh-hhnnn.
I wonder what the hell he's talking about until I realize everyone's looking at me. Oh.

"I have been applying my not inconsiderable brain power to the conundrum and arrived at an inescapable conclusion. We can't let this stand. If the pissy little bitches who run this town want to make Kross's life miserable, they have to deal with us first."

Applause.

"Uh, Flip? What are you talking about?"

He grins at me. "Can't tell you, Kross. But don't worry—I have a plan. We've got your back."

"I don't want to get into any more trouble."

"Never fear. We're going to give you the cloak of plausible deniability."

"Say what?" asks Speedo. Jedi nods, making his light saber noise the whole time.

"I mean," Flip says, exasperated, "we're gonna do it in a way that no one can tie it back to Kross. Just trust me. It's a kick-ass idea. So sublimely Foolish. It's perfect. Especially in
this
town."

"Really?" Tit asks. "What is it?"

"Did you miss the part about plausible deniability?" Flip asks him.

"No."

Flip rolls his eyes. "We already started, doofus."

"Oh." Tit's expression suddenly opens up. "Oh! You mean when we took the—"

"Shut up!" Jedi, Flip, and Speedo say it all at the same time, and Tit slaps a hand over his mouth.

"This is what the Council is all about!" says Flip. His excitement is contagious—I can't help it; I'm a little excited, too. Flip's many things, but he's never boring.

"Be conspicuous from a safe distance!" he goes on. "Shove people's faces in their own perceptions. Darken the illuminated paths so that people have to feel their way around and learn the path anew. Right?"

"Oh, yeah!" says Tit. Speedo cries out "Whoo-hoo!" while Fam nods and Jedi does his Jedi thing.

"So, get out of here, Kross. Make sure you're visible tonight."

"Visible?"

"Just make sure everyone knows you're home being a good little boy." Flip grins a wicked grin. "We'll take care of the rest."

Flip sends the others off—"You have your assignments," he tells them—and then throws an arm over my shoulder and escorts me back to the car.

"What in the
world
are you thinkin', man?" He's grinning when he says it, though. "Fame and fortune just not enough for you? What game are you playing?"

"Nothing, Flip. Honest. It just ... happened."

"Come on, Kross. It's me." He spins me around so that we're facing each other, his hands on my shoulders. "Tell your Uncle Flipster what kind of con you're running. Why'd you pull those magnets off your car in front of the reporter?"

"Flip, I swear to God, it's not a plan. It's not a con. My dad told me to take them off—"

He interrupts me with an eruption of laughter. "Your
dad?
Your
dad?"

"Not so loud, man!"

"But your
dad
made you do this? That's what this is all about?"

"Well, that's what started it, yeah. But I'm—" "Your dad. I can't believe it."

He's starting to get the Flip-gleam in his eye. I have to stop it, fast. "Flip,
please
don't tell anyone I told you that, OK? This thing has taken on a life of its own and it would totally kill me if people knew. OK?"

He takes a step back and chews it over for a bit. "Never fear, Fool Kross." He puts a hand over his heart and holds the other one up high. "Fool's Honor."

For whatever
that's
worth. But it's the best I'll get.

He ushers me over to the car. "You need to get going. I have a busy night ahead of me on your behalf."

And even though I didn't ask him to do anything, I feel bad. "Thanks, Flip."

He waves it off. Now that he's got his thanks, he doesn't care about it anymore. "Don't worry about it."

I get in my car and I'm about to drive off when Flip knocks on the window. I roll it down.

"Hey, I meant to ask you—what are you going to do with the money? I mean, you'll still have some left after buying this heap, right?"

Only Flip would just come right out with it like that. It's one of the things I like about him.

"Yeah, I still have most of it. Probably put it away for college."

"You're still gonna do the college thing?"

"My dad'll kill me if I don't."

"Let him kill you." He wags a finger at me. "Better than yoking your mind to the oppressive idiocy of the academic Gestapo."

Flip's always saying things like that. About half of it is just stuff he says to gauge people's reactions. The trick is figuring out which half. I shrug and he shrugs and he shakes his head, muttering "His dad" as he heads back to the park, the Council, and whatever mischief he's got cooked up.

***

I head home with a whole new plate of anxiety to dump on top of my anxiety buffet. I don't think I've ever
not
known what Flip was up to, at least not since he kidnapped Officer Sexpot.

Man, I really don't want to get into trouble.
More
trouble.

I rummage around under the sofa bed a little bit. Maybe I should get rid of the tapes. What if Flip does something that gets me arrested and the police search the apartment and find the tapes and...

No. No. Calm down, Kross. That wouldn't happen. Right?

I try to put the whole thing out of my mind. I let myself think back to when I was a kid, when Jesse was still around. I could do no wrong back then. No matter what I did, he would look at me with the same shining admiration in his eyes.

It wasn't just shielding him from Mom and Dad's fallout, either. I mean, we had fun. We had our in-jokes and stuff. All one of us had to say was "Pandazilla and Aquahorse" and we'd both crack up laughing. It didn't matter that we got older and that the whole thing had been stupid to begin with. It was our memory, our secret, and we loved it. I made Jesse take Panda-zilla with him to California—I think it was my toy originally, but I didn't care anymore. I liked the idea of my brother carrying a piece of me—a piece of
us
«s—with him while he went to the other side of the country.

Ugh. It's no good. No good to think about that time. Not when I can
only
do wrong these days. I have my own "mission" tonight. I have a bunch of research from the media center. Now I need to turn it into a speech.

A speech. Good Lord, have I completely lost my mind?

Probably.

I sit outside on the porch. Mrs. Mac lets Dad and me use the porch because she almost never goes outside. I feel wide open and conspicuous here.

Occasionally Mrs. Mac passes by her living room window, which looks out on the porch. She shakes her head at me like I've done something wrong. I focus on my homework and then my speech.

The sun goes down and the streetlights come on. I turn on the porch light and keep working.

"How about that interview now?"

Yow! I was so focused, I didn't hear anyone walking up to me. I look up and there's Reporter Guy, his hands in his pockets, standing at the foot of the porch steps.

"Why would I talk to you after what you wrote in the
Loco
today?"

He shrugs. "Don't you want your side to get out there?"

Hell, I don't even know what my side
is.
"Like I trust you to report it."

He looks offended. "Come on, Ross. It helps both of us. It's win-win."

"I'm not helping you do anything."

"Fine. You want to play hardball? We'll play hardball. How'd you like me to do a story in tomorrow's paper all about your dad and what
he
did when he was in the army? Hmm? Would you like that?"

I freeze up. There's no way in the world I'm going to do an interview with this douchebag, but I can't just let him piss all over Dad, either. Can I?

He grins. "Do you even
know
what your dad did? Do you?"

And of course, I don't. Taboo. Forbidden.
Proscribed.
"Just get out of here," I tell him.

"You don't, do you?" He laughs, and it's an ugly, ugly sound. "Well, maybe you should read tomorrow's paper."

My body starts vibrating all on its own. I want to tackle him to the ground, give him a little bit of what the Surgeon got.

But even I'm not that stupid.

"Get out of here." My voice shakes with anger. "This is private property." I say it loud enough that Mrs. Mac can hear me through the window.

Reporter Guy nods and starts to back away. "You had a chance, Ross." He throws me a weak, half-assed salute before disappearing.

Now I'm rattled. He got to me. With Dad. He hit me where I didn't know it would hurt. But I'm also determined. I have Leah to impress and Reporter Guy to piss off. So I'd better be good.

I
WAKE UP AND GET READY FOR SCHOOL
. Today is the big day. Today I'll make my stand. I never cared about ribbons or any of that before, but now it's like the biggest thing in my life. It's like my mission. I'll state my case in a way that people will understand. Once I point things out to them, once I show them how I'm thinking, they'll get it. They'll come around. They'll see what I see. It won't be a big deal anymore that I took those ribbons off my car, because people will understand my point of view.

Last night, Flip made it sound like I would need an alibi for whatever he and the Council had planned. And now, on the way to school, I see why.

About a jillion years ago, Brookdale started building a bridge on the outskirts of town. No one can tell me what the bridge was for, but it was never finished. There are still two giant iron supports out in the middle of a field, though, like tombstones for the
idea
of the bridge. You grow up in Brookdale and you hear "Don't you go playing around the bridge" (even though it's
not
a bridge) a million times, and then you go and do it anyway.