RAGE (11 page)

She laughed, then said, “Oh no.”

“What?” I asked.

“My mom’s coming. I’m going to have to go. Hurry up and ask me, Brian.”

Swallowing the nervousness, I asked, “Carly, will you go to the dance with me?” The words felt funny coming out of my mouth. I’d never asked anyone to go anywhere with me before. It felt odd, but good at the same time. It probably helped that I knew she wanted me to ask her, and I knew she was going to say yes.

She smiled and leaned toward me. She glanced at her mother’s approaching car and back to me. “Yes,” she said before planted a quick kiss on my cheek. Then, she stood and jogged off to meet her mother. Over her shoulder, she called, “See you at school tomorrow, Brian.”

She left me sitting under the tree with the memory of her warm lips against my cheek. My palms were sweaty and my heart was pounding in my chest. Only this time, it was in a good way.

Feeling happier than I could ever remember, I sat under the tree and memorized the feel of Carly’s lips against my cheek. Though the kiss had been quick, her lips had been soft on my skin, her breath smelling of cake and Kool-Aid. I would never forget that feeling if I lived a thousand years. And her scent, a flowery smell that reminded me of summer. I committed that to memory also.

Somehow, the day seemed brighter now, though the sky was still gray. I felt lighter, and freer than I ever had.

Staring at the empty paper plate and the plastic cup made me blush. She had been thinking of me. She’d even said she had been. And she’d said a lot. It made me feel good. I sat there for a while, enjoying the feeling. When my stomach began rumbling again, I knew it was time to go.

I picked up the trash and carried it with me, dropping it into the first trash can I came to. I headed home, though I didn’t want to. First, Travis was there. I didn’t want to face him anymore than I ever did, but especially not today. He’d ruin the buzz I was feeling from spending time with Carly. Second, we had almost nothing to eat, and the rumbling in my stomach wasn’t going to go away on its own. So I changed courses and headed to Jack’s Diner.

When my mom was working, she’d sometimes give me something to eat. Hoping this would be one of those times, I walked into the diner and took a seat at the counter. There weren’t a lot of people in the diner, and for some reason, no one ever liked to sit at the counter. I didn’t understand why. I liked the counter. It sat up high and let me watch the people cook and prepare the food.

Mom came over to me after filling some coffee cups for an old couple sitting at a table.

“Hi, Brian. What are you doing today?”

“Nothing. I just went to the park.”

She stood with her hands on her hips. “Did you tell Travis where you were going?”

I shook my head.

She made a face. “You should’ve told him, Brian. You know how he worries about you.”

I wanted to tell her everything, but this wasn’t the time or the place, and I’d tried once already. She’d passed it off as a life lesson.

“Brenda,” said the man cooking.

My mom turned and saw that she had an order ready. She quickly grabbed the plates, balanced them on her forearms, and rushed them to the customers with a smile. She really was a great waitress.

When she returned, she asked if I was hungry. Had she ever had time to notice the lack of food we had at home, she would know that I was almost always hungry. But I didn’t blame her. She worked all the time. She gave Travis the money to buy groceries, which he never did. Mom never noticed the lack of food because she was barely home, and she ate at work. On the rare occasion that she noticed our cabinets were bare, she’d ask Travis and he would simply tell her he hadn’t had time to make it to the store yet. And as usual, she believed him. It was quicker and easier that way.

I nodded.

“What would you like?”

Excited at the thought of having a real, hot meal, I chose my favorite. “Cheeseburger and fries.”

She wrote it down on her order pad, and gave it to the cook. She then went to the soda machine, and poured me a glass of my favorite cola.

As she sat it in front of me, I heard the bell ding, meaning someone was coming into the diner. I watched as she rushed off to take their order. Then, I took a drink of my soda. As far as food went, what had started out as a pretty crappy day was actually shaping into a great one. First cake, and now this.

I would’ve come in more often for food, but Mom had told me a long time ago that I couldn’t be coming in all the time. She’d warned me that Jack may not like it and she couldn’t afford to get fired. So I limited my visits to once a week, sometimes, twice.

When Mom sat the plate of hot food on the counter in front of me, the smell made my mouth water. Between the food and the attention from my mother, I nearly wet myself with excitement. It happened every time.

I ate slowly, not only to enjoy the burger and fries, but also to appear that I ate food like this all the time. I didn’t want to look like I’d never eaten before. For others, a meal like this was normal, but for me, it was a luxury. The rest of the week would be crackers, stale cereal, hard bread, and whatever else I could scrounge up. But today, well today was a hot meal that I could eat without the fear of Travis looming over me.

At least not yet.

When my meal finally and sadly came to an end, I was stuffed. Mom had refilled my drink three times because refills were free. Between all that soda and every morsel of food that had been on my plate, my stomach was bulging. My jeans even fit tighter than they had when I’d walked into the diner. I loved it.

When she came to get my empty plate, I said, “Mom, I need some clothes.”

“For what, Brian? Don’t you have clothes at home?”

“Yeah, but I need nice clothes. I’m going to the dance. With a girl.”

She looked at me with her head tilted, her eyebrows squinted together. “With a girl?”

I nodded.

“Is this girl too good to show up with you the way you are? Does she not like the real you? Because if that’s the kind of girl she is, you don’t need to be going to any dance with her.”

She turned to put my plate away and I wished I hadn’t even brought it up. By the time my mother came back, I’d decided to figure out something on my own.

I thanked my mother and left, heading home. She stuck her head out the door and called after me. “You mind Travis, you hear?”

I kept walking as though I hadn’t heard her. I don’t think she knew just how much I hated him. I knew she didn’t know about how he treated me. She’d once witnessed him smack me across the face, but had said nothing. I figured she knew. She had to know. I hadn’t been clumsy before Travis came into our lives, so why would she believe that I could be so clumsy as to cause myself all these bruises now. Because it was easier than dealing with the truth, that’s why.

The closer to home I got, the slower I walked. I was putting off the inevitable. Whether it was now or an hour from now, I was going to have to walk through that front door and deal with him.

Instead of working myself up into a panic before I had to, I turned my thoughts to Carly. She was a bright spot in the dark world that was my life. She was the only one I had.

This reminded me that I had to figure out a way to get decent clothes. My options were really limited. I wasn’t even exactly sure of what I should wear. A suit? Fancy pants? Slacks? I had no idea. I’d never been to a dance before. At the risk of looking like a weirdo, I’d have to ask Carly what I was supposed to wear. Then, I’d have to find something, and then find a way to get it. All this trouble for a dance. No, not a dance. All this was for Carly. And that made it no trouble at all.

While I’d been thinking about all that, I had failed to notice that I was no longer alone. Still a few streets away from my house, I became aware that I was being followed. I hadn’t been paying attention before, but I was certainly paying attention now, and I heard several footsteps behind me, keeping pace with me. I quickly glanced back over my shoulder and shuddered at what I saw.

Dominic, Taylor, and Spencer walked side by side on the sidewalk behind me. Behind them, was Dominic’s unwillingly obedient brother, Garrett. He looked like he wanted to be here about as much as I did.

I kept walking, trying to ignore that they were there. Just a few more streets and I’d be home. Which was no safer at all, but at least with Travis, I knew what to expect. With these guys, I never knew. Lately, they’d taken their bullying to a whole new level.

Behind me, I heard them giggling, but I pretended not to notice. I walked a little faster, and so did they.

Fighting the urge to look back and see if they were any closer, I kept walking without seeming to be afraid. Bullies liked it when you were afraid, and I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.

I kept walking. They kept following.

Only a couple streets away now, I was starting to think I could make it home without anything happening. Surely they wouldn’t start anything with me on a weekend when they had no audience. Bullies loved an audience. It’s why Travis was on when Dale and Mike were over. But now, there was no one around to witness and laugh about their cruelty.

As I started down my street, feeling better about the situation the more I thought about it, it happened.

A rock about the size of a baseball hit me between the shoulders. I stopped walking, unable to make my feet move. It knocked the breath out of me. While I grimaced in pain and gasped for air, I heard them laughing.

Before I could catch my breath and make my feet move again, I was tackled from behind. Face-first, I was forced to the sidewalk. Skin ripped open as my face slid across the rough concrete, rocks gouging my cheek where earlier, Carly’s soft lips had been. My knees were scraped, and I was sure my jeans had holes in the knees now.

As I tried to get my hands under me to push myself off the sidewalk, I was grabbed by the hair of my head, sending bolts of pain shooting from the knots. My head was jerked back and Dominic, who sat on my back now, leaned down and spoke into my ear.

“What are you doing out, Boozer Loser?” The others laughed as if this had been funny. When I failed to answer, he yanked harder on my hair, jerking my head back further. “Well? Answer me, assface.”

Barely able to speak, I said, “Nothing.”

“I didn’t ask you what you are, shitlips.” Again, the others laughed.

Dominic, fueled by his audience, slammed my face against the concrete. When he jerked my head up again, I saw the pool of blood that had come gushing from my nose, now seeping into the cracks of the concrete.

“Look at that, boys,” Dominic said. “He even bleeds pussy.”

As his entourage laughed, encouraging this behavior, Dominic slammed my face against the concrete a couple more times. The last time, he didn’t just slam it to the ground. He rubbed it around, making sure to give me lots of scrapes. I felt every one of them.

I yelled for him to stop, which was against my better judgment. I knew that would only make it worse, but it had fallen out of my mouth before I could stop it.

While he continued to rub my face against the concrete, I felt the others begin to kick my legs. I was actually glad that Dominic was sitting on my back, keeping them from kicking my sides. My ribs still hurt from the fall on the coffee table, and they wouldn’t have been able to take anymore abuse.

A car approached, and the four of them ran, leaving me lying in a pool of my own blood. The car slowed down, and I looked up from the hard, dirty sidewalk. I couldn’t have been a pretty sight to see. Blood gushed from my nose in a steady stream, and ran freely from the scrapes that now covered my face. As soon as the driver saw me, he sped up, driving on. But that was okay, because he had at least scared off the bullies. I don’t know what I would’ve said to him if he had stopped. It was probably for the best that he kept going.

Slowly I got to my feet and looked down, wobbling. As I’d suspected, the knees of my jeans were torn, my knees bloody. The puddle of blood on the sidewalk was bigger than I’d thought. My back was throbbing where the rock had hit me. My face burned and the back of my head was stinging. Without bothering to look around, I headed home, limping and hobbling the whole way.

Though my bloody lip trembled and my nose began to run, snot mingling with blood, I refused to cry. I was tired of crying. I was tired of having a reason to cry. I was sick of living a life where at every turn, someone was there beating me down, making me feel terrible about myself. But I was only thirteen. There was nothing I could do about it.

I hobbled home, dreading facing Travis. I hoped and prayed that he was asleep or over at Dale’s or Mike’s house. I’d settle for him being passed out on the couch. Surely I could tiptoe past him. But as was always my luck it seemed, he was home. And he was awake. And worse yet, he was waiting for me.

He sat at the kitchen table drinking a beer. From the eight or ten empty bottles in front of him, I knew it was far from his first of the day. I knew it as well as I knew it wouldn’t be his last of the day either.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asked before I’d even shut the door.

“I went to the park.”

I walked farther into the house, planning to go to the bathroom to clean up and then to my room.

Noticing my appearance, Travis asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nothing,” I said, hoping he’d drop it.

“Nothing, huh? I’ve seen nothing happen to people before and they sure as shit didn’t look like you do. What happened?”

At the edge of the kitchen, I stopped and turned toward him.

“Some kids beat me up.”

He tilted his head back and pulled his eyebrows together, looking at me down his nose.

How nice it would be, I thought, if he came to my defense this one time. If he grew angry at what those buttholes had done to me and he stormed over to their houses and told their parents. Just once.

Of course, that’s not what happened.

“You mean to tell me you let some snot-nosed brats beat you up? Have you learned nothing from me, dumbass?”

Had he been trying to teach me something?

“You didn’t fight back at all, did you?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why the hell not? Were you afraid to ruin their dresses?”

“They attacked me from behind. I didn’t have a chance to fight back.”

“God, you’re such a damn pussy,” he said. He gulped down the rest of his beer and stood. “I try to teach you to fight like a man should, and this is what you do when the time comes. Looks like your momma should’ve been teaching you how to change your tampons instead.”

I looked at the floor in shame. Not the shame of not fighting back, because I knew I hadn’t been able to, but the shame of being in this situation. Standing here before him like this. It was humiliating.

He walked closer to me. “Looks like I’m not teaching you enough, fuckhead. I guess I’ll have to show you again, and this time, slower. And harder. Maybe then you’ll learn.”

I started to raise my head and look at him. Before that could happen, his fist connected solidly with my chin, throwing my head backward. My body followed, falling against the couch. I tried to keep my balance, but I fell, sliding down the back of the couch and hitting the floor with a thud. The fall brought about new throbs and aches from my head, and a whole new set of stabbing pains from my side. I laid there and waited for the white flashes to stop blinking in front of my eyes.

“Get up, shithead. Let’s do this.” I guess he didn’t need an audience to feel like a big shot.

Through the stars that still floated in front of my eyes, I saw Travis trying to bob and bounce around like a boxer. In his mind it might’ve looked awesome, but to me it just looked like a drunken guy stumbling around, fists flailing.

Even though every ounce of my being told me to stay on the floor, I got up. I started to ask myself what I was planning to do once I’d stood, but he used his other fist to punch me in the jaw, spinning me around. One second I was looking at him, the next I was looking at the wall behind me. But I managed to keep my balance this time, though.

I was getting angry. Not just angry, but abnormal angry. I was trembling, and I felt dizzy and light-headed. Maybe it was all the punches I was taking to the face and head. Maybe that’s also what drove me to do what I did next.

Without giving it much thought, I swung my right arm as hard as I could, backhanding Travis across his cheek. It barely seemed to have any effect on him, other than causing him to stumble a little more, making him angrier than he already was. It made me feel a little better, although I knew it would be worse now.

He stepped toward me and punched me in the stomach. It knocked the wind out of me, and nearly brought up the food I’d eaten earlier at the diner. I stepped backward, away from him, struggling to keep down the food and keep up the breathing.

He came toward me again.

“You think you can hit me, you little pussy?”

He swung his fist at my face, but this time I threw up my arms. I saved my face, but was certain my arm would be bruised to the bone. It was a hard hit.

Travis called me a son of a bitch, and charged at me. He slammed into me, wrapping me in a bear hug. I tried to use my legs to hold my ground, but it did no good. As Travis pushed me backward across the living room, surprisingly strong for a scrawny man, I tried to think of a way out of this. I’d never fought back before, and though it had caught him by surprise, it was doing nothing but making him angrier.

Out of options and wanting this to be over, I threw my knee up into his crotch. He released me, doubled over, and his eyes bulged.

“You fucker,” he hissed. “You sorry little fucker. You will pay for this. Mark my words, you will pay.”

For some reason, I just stood there, looking at him as he fell to his knees, his manhood clutched in his hands. The same manhood that he’d used to violate me for so long. I watched as he rocked back and forth, cursing loudly, and couldn’t deny that I got a lot of satisfaction from watching him suffer. I wanted to hit him again. And again. And again.

The opportunity was there. It was all too perfect. I clenched my fist tightly. This had to count. I brought my arm back, and released it with a force I didn’t know I had. I drove my fist into his eye as hard as I could, and sent him sprawling backward onto his ass. The look on his face as he stared up at me in shock was worth whatever was going to happen to me now.

“Fuck you, you sorry pussy,” he yelled, struggling and stumbling to his feet.

“No. Fuck you,” I said solidly, although I cringed at using the language. My mouth felt dirty having said those words, but it sure felt good to have said them to him.

Unsure of why, I continued standing there while he got up. Once on his feet, he stared at me only a second before swinging at me again. I leaned back and watched as his fist quickly flew past my face, the wind from it blowing my hair.

“You cocky little prick,” he said. “You think you’re a badass? A hero? I’ll show you a hero.”

With that, he stepped on my feet, and began punching my face. I couldn’t step out of the way with him holding me in place. Leaning back only caused me to lose my balance. He leaned forward, following me as I fell backward, continuing to hit me.

The first punch knocked me off balance.

The second punch broke a tooth.

The third punch knocked the broken tooth out of my mouth.

The fourth punch brought the darkness.