The Revealers (9 page)

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Authors: Doug Wilhelm

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Actually, make that one invisible reject.
I realized, standing there, that I had no place to go.
“Oh, yeah, people read it,” I said on the phone. “Nobody actually talked about it directly, at least not that I heard. But they were definitely affected by it. You could tell.”
“How?”
“Well … the way people acted toward her was a little different. In the lunchroom, Allison Kukovna and her friends went to our table and sat with her.”
“They sat at
our
table? What did they say?”
“How should I know? You think I sat there? Anyway, there was this thing in social studies. We were talking about Anne Frank, but then it was like everybody was talking about Catalina at the same time.”
“They were? How?”
“Well, it was like they were saying Anne Frank and Catalina were similar, only Catalina had KidNet. Except they didn't mention KidNet exactly.”
“They were saying Catalina was like
Anne Frank?
”
“Well … kind of.”
After a second, Elliot said, “Does that seem a little farfetched to you?”
“Well, now it does, but it made sense at the time. We were talking about how people get persecuted, and that all Anne Frank did was tell her story, and if she'd only had the Internet then maybe things would have been different. 'Cause people would have heard her story right away.”
“Huh.”
“See, nobody mentioned Catalina by name. But it was like everybody was really talking about her.”
“Yeah?”
“Kind of.”
“Huh. So how
did
you send that message out, exactly?”
I told him how to find the mailing lists, how to distribute a file. “I'm going to try it,” he said.
“With what?”
“I'm not sure. You'll see. Hey, why not? I'm sitting here with nothing else to do.”
“Well,” I said, “be careful.”
“Be
careful?
Of what?”
“I'm not sure, exactly. Mr. Dallas said to be careful.”
“All I've ever been is careful,” Elliot said. “I'm sick and tired of careful.”
 
After dinner I checked the Net. There was a message from Elliot.
Dear Seventh Grade,
This is another true story from your Darkland School. Did you read the story of Catalina Aarons? Well, that was from the Bully Lab. And so is this. If you wonder what the Bully Lab is, then good. By the way, this is what happened to me.
There are three guys … You guys know who you are. (Maybe I should tell everyone who you are, guys. What do you think? Should I?) I call these wonderful guys the Jock Rots. Yeah, the Jock Rots, because they're a fungus. They
pick on certain kids because they think it's fantastically funny. Here's what they did to me most recently. You tell me how funny it was.
First they surrounded me after school in front of the School Street park. That was pretty typical. They figured on playing their usual games, like taking things out of my backpack, tearing up my homework sheets, playing keepaway with my library books. I always used to say, “Come on, come on, cut it out, give it back!” And of course they'd laugh and laugh because it was SO funny.
That's what I USED to do. This time I got pissed off. I hit back, and I also told them what I thought of them, and that REALLY upset the poor little boys.
So they picked me up and carried me (it took three of them—I got in every kick and insult I could) to the bridge over the river and they held me over the edge trying to scare me and make me say I was sorry for upsetting their delicate feelings. I didn't say it because I wasn't and AM not. I kept putting up a fight and finally, “accidentally,” they dropped me. Off the bridge. On the rocks. In the river.
THEN you know what they did? They ran away.
Isn't that brave? I was down in the water and they took off. My friend had to rescue me and get me to the hospital. I had a concussion and a sprained ankle. But hey, guys, guess what? I'm still here! What are you going to do NOW?
I think people ought to realize that stuff like this goes on every single day at Darkland School. The rest of you are all part of it—because you let it go on and maybe you think it's funny, or you think it only happens to geeky outsiders and kids who are smaller or fatter or skinnier or don't have so many friends or so much money as you. So tell me—what happens when you don't have so many friends one day, or you don't have so much money, or something bad happens to you?
Guess what? It can happen fast. One day you fall just a
little bit behind the crowd, and the next day you can be on the other side. Yes, you too. Falling off a bridge.
Think about it.
Yes, there is a Bully Lab. We are interested in people's true stories of Darkland School. These are ours. What are yours?
Oh, and hey, Jock Rots. I'm not the only one who knows who you are. Sleep tight!
 
Elliot Gekewicz
The Bully Lab
It wasn't long before Elliot called.
“Well? Did you read it?”
“Yeah. Did you send it to everybody?”
“The whole seventh grade.” He was hyped up. “What do you think?”
I sighed. “I don't know. You didn't really tell the whole story, you know.”
“You don't think that's the real story?”
“Well, maybe, but … saying all those things about those guys … I don't know, Elliot. Didn't I tell you it was mainly Chris who pulled you out of the water?”
“You might have mentioned it, but so what? It was him and Blanchette that dropped me in there.”
“I don't think they meant to.”
“Hey,” he said, “whose side are you on? You know the things those guys did to me, all those times before. They never cared how I felt about any of it. So let
them
worry about what happens next. Let them wake up in the morning feeling scared. It's about time they found out what that's like.”
“But what happens when you come back, Elliot?”
“I don't know. But what can they do to me that they haven't already done? Besides”—his voice dropped a little—“if I can do
this
, I bet you they won't even try.”
“Well, maybe, but you say we're the Bully Lab now. You said Catalina's thing was from the Bully Lab.”
“Yeah! It's a good name.”
“Well, maybe, but we didn't talk about it. And I'm not so sure Catalina wants to be involved.”
“Why?”
“I think she's got new friends now.”
There was a long silence.
“Would you call her?” he said. “To find out?”
“I don't know.”
“Come on. At least just tell her what I did. Maybe you can find out a little.”
“All right. I'll try.”
“Let me know,” he said.
I sighed. “What am I, your spy?”
“Yeah, man. I'm stuck here.”
It was funny, how Elliot was more scared of losing Catalina than of getting stomped by the Jock Rots. But I figured it made sense, somehow, at least to him.
I called her.
“Elliot wrote a thing about what those guys did to him,” I said. “He's already sent it out. On KidNet.”
“To who?”
“The seventh grade.”
“Hmm. Is that good or bad?”
“I'm not sure. It's a pretty feisty letter. I'm kind of afraid it might get us into some trouble.”
“Why us?”
“Elliot says we're the Bully Lab. In his letter, I mean. He says your letter came from the Bully Lab, just like his.”
“My letter came from me,” Catalina said.
“I know. And, you know … I mean, I figure you probably won't want to hang out with us anymore anyway. You know.”
After a second, she said, “What are you talking about?”
“Well, I saw you having lunch with Allison and her friends.”
“So?”
“So I guess you have new friends now.”
“I don't understand,” she said. “I wrote something, and I'm glad people read it. I'm glad those girls wanted to say they liked it. But it doesn't change who I am. It doesn't change who my friends are.”
“It doesn't?”
“No.”
“But what if those girls start to be your friends?”
“What if they do? Why should that change anything?”
“I just figured it would.”
“Well, I don't,” she said.
 
The next afternoon in activities block I checked my e-mail. I had something from Elliot.
You and Catalina better come to my house after school, OK?
There's some stuff here you should see.
Catalina had a saxophone lesson after school. I told her how to get to Elliot's, and she said she'd meet us there.
After school I was walking past the park. Burke and Blanchette were on the basketball court, shooting. Big Chris wasn't with them. I wasn't seeing Big Chris with them at all anymore, come to think of it.
I kept walking. Burke and Blanchette stopped playing. They came out on the street.
“Russ T, my man,” Blanchette said. He flashed me his golden-boy grin. Burke was behind him, not smiling.
“Hey, man,” Blanchette said, “what's up with that friend of yours?”
“Why? You guys worried about something?”
Burke stepped around Blanchette; he stuck his sharp angry face up to mine. “Hey, kid—it's your little geek friend who needs to worry.”
“You think so? Really?”
Blanchette pulled Burke aside. “I told you I'd talk to him,” I heard him whisper.
“Yeah, well you
talk
to him,” Burke whispered back. His eyes flashed over Blanchette's shoulder at me. “You tell him.”
“Okay,” Blanchette whispered. “Be cool.”
He turned back and spread his hands, like this was no big deal.
“We're just concerned that your friend is suddenly broadcasting some pretty wild stories,” he said.
“Yeah,” Burke growled. “Radio Free Geekowitz.”
“It's true,” I said. “I know it's true, and you know I know. I saw it.”
“Yeah, well it doesn't matter what
you
saw,” Burke said, stepping around Blanchette and getting in my face again. “It doesn't mean a thing what
you
saw.”
“No? How do you figure that, Burke?” I had been face to face with Richie Tucker. This was nothing.
Burke turned deep red. He was actually shaking.
“Look,” Blanchette said, smiling as he drew Burke aside again. “You were there,” he said to me. “Elliot exaggerated, right? It was an accident, what happened. It was his fault as much as anyone's! You saw what he did to us.”
“What he did to
you
? Like what, finally trying to hit back, after all the crap you've done to him?”
Blanchette's smile got bigger. “Yeah.” He chuckled. “I mean, we were shocked. We always figured we were just playing around together. He always seemed to like the attention. You know?”
I stepped back. “Jon,” I said, “just how stupid do you think I am?”
“Listen, you little zit,” Burke spat out, stepping into my face a third time. “You go ahead and think you're the smartest little zit in the world, okay? You and your little zit friend go play with your computers all you want, okay? But you tell your zit friend,
No names
. You tell him that, okay?
No names!”

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