In the Eye of the Storm - 1. In the Eye of the Storm

It was my first day as a junior in high school and I was excited about being back. I was an upperclassman now, so I was looking forward to having a great year.

As I walked into my first period class, I realized that I had never seen this particular teacher before. She appeared to be only a few years older than me, so it was obvious I was going to have a recent college grad for English this year. Shortly after I sat down, the class got underway and the teacher began taking attendance. This was taking longer than it normally would have, because she was taking her time trying to match the faces to the names on the class list.

“Amanda Burnside,” she called out, and a girl in the front raised her hand and spoke very meekly.

“Here,” she almost whispered, as the teacher studied her face and tried to store it into memory.

“Jeremy Clayton,” she called out next and a very mature sounding voice called out in response.

“Yeah,” he replied, as she glanced up at him.

“Please take your hat off in class,” she requested, as he gave her a slight nod and removed the cap from his head.

“Tiffany Davidson,” she called out next, once Jeremy had honored her request.

“Here,” a girl called out in a firm, clear voice. She was a cheerleader and there was nothing shy about her.

Once again, the teacher studied her for a moment before looking down at her list again and calling out the next name. This went on as she called out the other names, until she came to one of the other boys in my class.

“N. B. Jackson,” she announced and then looked up quickly.

“Here,” the owner responded, as the teacher committed his features to memory, but then she spoke to him again.

“I don’t understand why, but the class list only contains your initials,” she stated, “so please tell me your name.”

“All of my school records are listed as N. B., but you can call me Nate,” the boy replied.

She seemed fine with his response and jotted down a note on the class list, but I had always wondered why his name only appeared as N. B. on everything generated by the school as well. I’d been in other classes with him and it seemed the teachers always asked that question and he always told them the same thing, which made me curious about why he or his parents never bothered to ask the school to correct the situation for him, but they never did.

Nate seemed to be really bright and always did extremely well in his classes, from elementary school on. He wasn’t bad looking either, with short brown hair and big brown eyes, but he didn’t dress in the latest styles. I think it was because his parents didn’t take him shopping at the really cool stores. It wasn’t that they couldn’t afford to, but his parents didn’t do things like everyone else. In fact, they were a constant joke whenever they showed up at any school events, because they definitely stood out in a crowd.

“Is Nate with his grandparents?” one girl asked when she saw him at an open house for the first time with his family.

“Nah, that’s his mom and dad,” a boy sneered. “I heard my mom say they didn’t start having kids until they were in their 40s, so they’re really old.”

“And they’re dressed funny too,” she observed, while making a face.

She was right. They still wore clothing that made them look like throwbacks to the hippy culture of the sixties and seventies.

“And they talk funny too,” someone else added. “They say weird things like ‘radical,’ ‘far out’ and ‘groovy.’ They’re really weird.”

I had a feeling this was one of the reasons Nate got picked on so much, but it wasn’t the only reason. Nate was also the smallest kid in our class, even smaller than me. I was only about 5’ 6” (168 cm), but Nate was about 4” (10 cm) shorter. This added to his problem and placed a target on his back, because he was easy to push around

The other guys also resented him for getting such good grades and harassed him for being such a brainiac. It also didn’t help that the teachers often used Nate to embarrass the other students in class as well.

“Adam, will you please explain what Newton’s third law of motion means?” the teacher asked.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” the boy answered.

“Nate, help him out,” the teacher immediately stated next, as he turned away from Adam.

“Newton’s third law is the action-reaction principle,” Nate answered. “It states that all forces are interactions between two different objects and all forces exist in pairs.”

“Very good and I wish the rest of you would learn that,” the teacher added, before moving on.

Nate always responded correctly in those situations, which in turn would make the other person look stupid. This certainly didn’t help to endear him to the rest of the class either.

Another thing that helped to make Nate a target was that he never seemed to want anything to do with any of the other students and stayed mostly by himself. This was probably due to the way he’d been treated in the past and the fact that some of our classmates called him names. For that reason, Nate pretty much only spoke to the teachers and his sister, who was a grade behind us. He spent the rest of his time alone, even at lunch.

I actually felt bad that the other students treated him so awful, because I knew it could have just as easily been me, if it hadn’t been for my family. My father was the local sheriff and everyone realized he could make their lives miserable if they did anything like that to me. Not only was he the sheriff, but my dad’s also a big man, standing about 6’ 2” (188 cm) and weighing about 250 lbs. (113 kg). My mom’s only 5’ 0” tall (152 cm), really pretty and very petite, so I ended up falling between them in height and build. I wish I was as big as my dad, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

After the class ended, we were making our way through the halls to get to our next class when one of the senior football players happened to walk up behind Nate. It wasn’t that he was looking for Nate or coming after him, but he seemed to be in a hurry and Nate was moving rather slowly. Out of frustration, the football player pushed Nate aside and spat out an insult.

“Out of the way, faggot, and let a man catch up to his woman,” he hissed.

The other guys called Nate faggot a lot, even though I doubt anyone had ever seen him with another boy. The thing was, they had never seen him with a girl either and he didn’t even seem to be interested in them. As I said before, other than his sister, Nate didn’t speak to any of the other students. Besides calling him names, they liked to push him around too and did all sorts of mean things to him, but Nate was too small to fight back. It was disgusting to see how they treated him, but it happened a lot.

As the school year rolled on, the situation seemed to be getting worse for Nate and I began to feel sorry for him. I knew how I would feel, if I were being treated the same way, so I started to take pity on him. Every now and then I would speak to him and flash a smile, hoping it would be enough to ease his suspicion about my reasons. I just wanted to show him there was at least one other person his age he could trust and talk to. Who knows? Maybe we could even become friends.

“How’s it going?” I would ask, with a grin.

“Ok,” Nate responded, while looking at me suspiciously.

At first, he only answered with a single word or short phrase, but gradually he started to say more and began to use complete sentences. We even started to sit together at lunch. I wasn’t worried that the other guys might target me too, because they were still afraid of my father, but no one did anything to Nate while we were together either. Even though he never mentioned it, I think he realized this and appreciated the fact that I had become his buffer against the tide of bullies.

As the school year dragged on, Nate and I became closer and he began taking advantage of the fact that no one picked on him while we were together. The problem was that the assholes seemed to make up for it whenever they caught Nate alone. For that reason, we did our best to make sure they didn’t get the chance very often, but we couldn’t always prevent such things from occurring. In fact, I think some of those guys went out of their way to catch Nate when I wasn’t with him, so they could do all kinds of demeaning things to him.

One of the worst times was when a group grabbed Nate at the end of the school day. First, they dragged him off to the boys’ locker room and stripped him completely. Then, they carried him over and shoved him into the girls’ locker room, just after the girls’ field hockey team had gone in to change for a game.

“Maybe if you show them what you’ve got, you might even get a date,” one of his tormentors sneered, as they pushed him through the doorway and then blocked his exit.

“You might even get laid, so you’ll no longer be a fucking virgin,” another chimed in, as they all began to laugh.

One other time, a group of guys stole Nate’s backpack, which contained all of his textbooks and a term paper he was planning on turning in the next day. Luckily, he was able to print another copy of it off of his computer at home, but he didn’t have his books so he wasn’t able to study or complete his homework assignments.

Nate spent the next couple of days trying to explain the problem to his teachers, although he told them he had no idea who took his things. They were willing to replace his textbooks, although they also warned him that he might end up paying for the others if they weren’t found. I could tell Nate was really upset that these guys were now also jeopardizing his academic standing, along with the personal abuse they’d been heaping upon him, but I didn’t see how he was going to get them to stop. I thought possibly I could somehow make the situation better, so I reached out to him.

“Can I do something to help?” I asked.

“No, there’s nothing you can do,” Nate replied, sounding totally dejected.

“What if I ask my dad to do something?” I offered. “Maybe he can get them to stop.”

“No, that will only make it worse. I’ll figure something out,” Nate responded. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s my problem and you don’t have to worry about it. I’ll come up with something… eventually.”

I just couldn’t see how he was going to be able to put an end to the abuse without some assistance, but he was determined to handle it on his own.

As we entered the final month of the school year, many of our classes were already beginning the review process for the finals and we were preparing for another school year to end. Over the course of the year, I had seen a huge difference in Nate, and not just academically or socially. Believe it or not, I had grown about two inches since school started, but Nate had grown even more. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, but he was now as tall as me. I knew guys our age might grow a little more, but I had no idea that someone our age could still grow so much, which meant there might be hope for me yet. I also thought it might work to Nate’s advantage too.

Just before finals began, a whole lot of strange things began to happen, which had nothing to do with Nate. First, a bunch of photos turned up on the school computers and showed things that I suspect the people in them didn’t want anyone else to find out about. Once these pictures got out, they seemed to create a chain-reaction of events to occur.

The first thing that took place was when one of the really popular girls found a photo of her boyfriend making out with another girl. The next time she saw him, she slapped his face and broke up with him, right in front of everyone else.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he shouted, since he had no idea why she’d just done that.

“You made out with that bitch, Tiffany!” she spat back. “I hate that slut, but obviously you think she’s hot.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he protested, feigning ignorance.

“This!” she shouted, while tossing a printout of the photo at him.

“That’s obviously been photoshopped,” he protested after glancing at it.

This might have been true, but if it was it had been so well done that no one could actually tell.

Other photos also turned up and caused similar problems for even more people. One senior boy’s parents were emailed some snapshots that showed a couple of his friends roof-surfing on top of the family SUV while their son was driving. Another caught him smoking a joint and a third was taken of him as he tossed away a beer can while opening the driver’s door of the SUV. It was easy to tell that he was about to drive somewhere after he’d been drinking and none of these incidents went over well with his folks. When he showed up at school the next day, everyone could see he was really down.

“What’s wrong, Dan?” one of his friends wanted to know.

“My parents took away my keys,” he moaned. “I no longer have a vehicle, because some asshole sent them pictures of me having a little fun.”

“Damn, that sucks,” his friend commiserated, although it didn’t seem to dawn on either of them that it was because of the things Dan had done that had gotten him in trouble, not the person who sent his parents the proof.

Even though he was an athlete, Dan was fortunate the school sports’ seasons had ended, so nothing happened to him on that front. Two juniors, however, weren’t quite as lucky. They had also been captured drinking or smoking pot at the same party and not only had to answer at home for what they’d done, but they were also kicked off the teams for the following year. That was almost more than they could handle.

When Nate and I heard about these various things happening, I thought I saw a slight smile form on Nate’s lips. That’s when it suddenly dawned on me that each of the guys involved had been part of the group that had been mistreating Nate since middle school. This made me wonder if he might have had something to do with their recent problems, but I eventually dismissed the idea. I couldn’t see how Nate might have pulled it off, although it was easy to understand why he might be pleased to learn his tormentors were now experiencing problems of their own.

I didn’t see Nate again after school let out for the summer, but I was astonished when I ran into him again the following fall. Unfortunately, I was still the same height I’d been when school ended, but Nate was now at least 6 feet (183 cm) tall, toned and muscular. I didn’t recognize him at first, at least not until he spoke to me, and then I stood there with my mouth hanging open, unable to speak. Once I was able to regain my composure, I realized it would be highly unlikely that anyone would dare to pick on him now.

Suddenly, I was grateful that I had befriended him the previous year, but I also felt like one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters standing next to him. Even though I was proud and pleased that I had been nice to him before his amazing transformation. I think a great many of our classmates were suddenly regretting the fact that they had either ignored or treated him badly in the past.

A couple of months later, we were sitting at lunch and chatting when I finally got up the courage to ask him a question that had been bugging me.

“At the end of the last school year, when all of those things happened to the guys that had been picking on you, I thought you might have had something to do with it. Did you?”

When I saw him grin, I figured I had my answer.

“Maybe,” Nate responded, but now he was beaming.

“No way!” I challenged. “How the hell did you pull it off?”

“I used my iPhone to take pictures of them from time to time during the day, usually in the halls, at lunch or outside, but I kinda followed them around at other times too,” he added, while giving me a wink. “My dad is an amateur photographer and has several really good cameras. I would sometimes borrow the one that had a telescopic lens attachment and then hide in the shadows during their practices or afterward. I would also sneak out at night or on the weekend too, especially when I knew they were going to party. The camera served as my eye and the photos unleashed the storm. ”

“How the fuck would you know when they were going to party?” I challenged.

“Easy,” Nate answered, smiling broadly, “because I hacked into their computers.”

“How the fuck did you do that?” I pressed.

“It wasn’t hard,” Nate replied. “I just set up a email account at gilhooley123@gmail.com and used it to send things to them or their parents.”

“Wait! You used the principal’s email account to do this?” I asked, totally shocked.

“No, not at all,” Nate answered. “I may have accidentally chosen to use his last name when opening an account, but it certainly had nothing to do with him. It’s possible that I realized they might think the same thing and then unwittingly open up whatever I sent them, but it was the only way I could think of that they wouldn’t just delete it.”

“So what did you send them?” I continued.

“At first, I just sent them a letter to download that reminded them about the athletic rules. It stated that the use of drugs and alcohol were prohibited and could get them kicked off any teams they were on. I did this to scare them into thinking the coaches and administrators knew about or were suspicious of what they’d been up to, but I had an even more important reason for sending it to them. When they downloaded the letter, they also inadvertently downloaded a keystroke logger. Once it was on their computer, it sent everything they typed to me. This way I knew exactly what they were saying to each other and was able to find out about many of their parties and some of the other stuff they did. By doing this, I was able to get to places before they showed up, so I could find a strategic spot to hide and be able to take pictures of what was going on. That’s how I got the photos of them drinking and smoking pot.”

“So you were the one who sent them to Dan’s father?” I asked, totally flabbergasted.

“Guilty as charged,” Nate confessed, while flashing me a huge grin. “I was glad it got him into so much trouble and that it caused his parents to take away the keys to his car. He has been giving me shit since sixth grade and payback is a bitch.”

After saying this, Nate began laughing hysterically.

“Damn, you’re a sneaky bastard,” I snapped back.

“If I am, then I have them to thank for it,” Nate quipped. “They taught me how to get away with everything I did to them.”

“Because they accidentally downloaded that file you sent them?” I wondered.

“That was part of it,” he concurred, “but it was mostly due to the way they treated me over the past few years. They showed me how they did it without getting caught, so I did the same thing”

“Wait! So you learned how to be sneaky from them?” I pressed, confused.

“Yep. Since I couldn’t fight them physically, I had to come up with other ways to make them suffer,” Nate answered, but I still didn’t quite understand. “One of the first ways I had to get even with them was to study hard and do really well in all of my classes,”

“But how did that get back at them?” I followed.

“Since I scored so well on most of the quizzes and tests, I messed up the grading curve. If I hadn’t done that, the teachers might have raised their grades slightly by using the curve,” Nate answered. “Seeing I scored so well, the teachers couldn’t raise their grades as much as they might have done otherwise, so those guys ended up with lower averages. It also made those guys look dumb in class, because when they couldn’t answer the teacher’s questions, the teacher would often call on me next. They knew I would have the right answer and every time this happened it would make me feel like I was getting back at those jerks for what they were doing to me.”

“Or setting yourself up for something even worse,” I countered.

“Maybe, but I felt it was worth it,” Nate answered. “Not only that, but those guys also inspired me to learn even more about other types of stuff and that’s how I came up with the way I got back at them. While I was trying to know more than they did, I found out about keystroke loggers and then figured out how to get them to download it without realizing they were doing so.”

Nate laughed out loud after saying this and I could only shake my head at his ingenuity.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” I joked, which caused him to laugh even louder.

“I doubt you could ever piss me off as much as they did,” Nate confirmed.

“Maybe, but I’d rather not tempt fate,” I teased. “After what you did to those other guys, I’m beginning to think the N. B. stands for ‘nut buster,’ ‘no bullshit’ or maybe ‘nightmare bringer.’

Even though I had just joked about it, I still couldn’t understand why he would never tell anyone his real name. After grinning at my last comment, Nate looked up and studied my face carefully for a few seconds.

“Not knowing my given name really bothers you, doesn’t it?” he stated, while looking directly into my eyes.

“Kinda, because I’ve never been mean to you or teased you, so I don’t understand why you won’t tell me,” I confessed. “You should know I would never tell anyone else, but I would like to know what it is.”

“If I tell you, then I expect you to keep your promise to never tell anyone else,” Nate stated, in a very hushed tone. “I doubt anyone would try to make fun of me now, seeing what happened to those other guys and how much I’ve grown, but I’d still rather not take that chance.”

“Don’t worry. I promise,” I replied. “So what is it?”

“Well you know my parents are a little different,” he began.

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way of putting it,” I agreed, while hoping my comment didn’t hurt his feelings.

“They don’t do things the way most other parents do and the same was true when it came to naming my sister and me,” he added.

“Your sister’s name is Star and yours is Nate, so it can’t be too bad or strange,” I offered, hoping this would make him feel better and give him the courage to continue.

“You might think that, but those aren’t exactly our given names,” he nearly whispered. “My sister’s full name is Starlight Brilliance and the N. B. in my name stands for Nature Boy.”

“What?” I accidentally blurted out more loudly than I should have, but I honestly hadn’t expected something quite that strange. I knew it would be different, but this was just plain bizarre.

“You heard me,” he emphasized. “My father was a professional wrestling fan when he was younger and decided to name me after his favorite wrestler. That happened to be Nature Boy Ric Flair.”

“Why didn’t he just call you Ric Flair Jackson then, instead of Nature Boy?” I followed, still stunned and bewildered by his father’s choice.

“I guess it was just my dad’s way of doing things differently,” Nate replied. “When I got old enough to realize it wasn’t exactly a normal name, I complained to him about it and he agreed to call me either Nate or Nat, whichever I preferred, so I chose Nate. He was also able to talk the school into just using my sister’s and my initials on our school records, since we were concerned how the other kids would react if they knew our given names.”

“That was probably a wise move on your part. It also gives me an entirely new understanding of the term ‘nature’s wrath’,” I teased, but this time I remembered to say it softly enough so no one else could overhear. “Of course I’ve heard the phrase used before, but it has always been in reference to some sort of natural disaster. Now, you’ve given it a whole new meaning and one I’d rather avoid.”

Nate merely laughed again, just as our lunch period came to an end.

THE END.