The Codeword – Novella Five - 2. Part 3: Boys Are So Dumb

Part 3: Boys Are So Dumb

"How's the new haircut shaping up?"

Bobby's softly-placed question snaps me out of my memory. A glance in the mirror confirms that my head is looking all kinds of new and slick.

"Lookin' good," I tell him with a partial smile.

"You're about to graduate Saint Lazarus, aren’t you?"

"Yep."

Bobby Strand's comb pulls up a flattened line of hair from above my temple.

"Which school will you go to – DePaul, or Judas Tree Public High School?"

His scissors cut a line of long hairs with his fingers pinching them as a guide.

"Many will continue their Catholic education, and go to DePaul."

"But, not you?"

"No, not me. I'll go to Judas Tree Public High."

"How come?"

"Who wants to sit on a bus, morning and evening as we drive to the next town, just to go to school?"

"Aw, come on. It's only a fifteen minute ride!"

I open my mouth slightly and make an inverted sigh. "I don’t want to go there, Bobby. I'm – I'm sort of done with them, if you know what I mean."

He pauses cutting my hair; a long strand is still pulled up and flattened into a fan by his pinched left fingers. He just looks at me via the mirror.

"Well, the Church isn't everything. They had their chance with you, and, maybe they blew it."

He attempts a laugh, and I try and join him.

"Yep."

The cutting resumes. "How many from your class are going to DePaul?"

I make a little sound of disbelief as I tell him, "Most of 'em! Out of the boys, only me and Jerry will go to Judas Tree High."

"I know Jerry. He's nice. But you must be sad to lose your friends."

"I don’t have any real friends, just Jodie. None of the boys like me."

Elvid comes around with the broom and long-handled dustpan.

Bobby looks puzzled. "I don’t know Jodie. What's his last name?"

"Nah, Jodie's a girl."

"Ah, that explains it. I think I know most of the boys and young men around town."

I catch Elvid's eye in reflection. Maybe there is a sparkle of something in his passing lilt – a giggle maybe that I have a friend who's a girl – maybe smiling to himself to think of me with a girlfriend.

Bobby's voice breaks the spell. "Well, Judas Tree High is a good choice, don’t you worry about that! We went there." A radiant smile turns from Bobby's lips onto Elvid. "And, that's where we met."

Suddenly, I do think of Greg and Joey again. That loving, if only momentary, glance playing out in through the looking-glass wonder is the same I saw them give one another many times. Here Bobby and Elvid are just the same. Silently, it makes me sigh, and confuses two feelings together. One of tender admiration that love exists just below the wafer-thin reflective coating that clings like mirroring to the back of society's distorting glass, and two, a deep, deep longing for that kind of connection for me. Impressed by their union of hearts, mine breaks to feel itself so utterly alone.

"So, that's where you guys met?" I hear my question come out in the form of a dreamy sigh.

Elvid drifts off with his broom, and in a cloud of contentment.

"Yes, Simon. That's where we met."

"So, you never had to say goodbye?"

His face goes blank. "Yes. Once we did."

"When?"

"When I was drafted, and had to leave Judas Tree."

"It's hard to say good bye, isn't it, especially if you don’t know if you'll ever see him again."

"Yes, Simon. It is. It sounds like you've had to do the same thing."

"I had a friend like that, but now he lives in another town, and I can't see him."

"Sorry to hear about that."

I have a feeling, that since Bobby 'knows all the boys,' he wants to ask me who I'm talking about. But, he doesn’t. He just goes back to my hair with a brief smile at me in the mirror.

I sigh. "Stevie and Ryan sponsored our class farewell party."

"Really? What did you do?"

"Last Saturday we had a final hayride and party to say our goodbyes."

"Sounds fun."

"It was cold, and pretty miserable." I laugh to think of it.

˚˚˚˚˚

From where we were in the back, the faint smell of tractor exhaust hung over our wet heads like smog.

The weather was not cooperating, even though Stevie's dad had planned for everything else. He had hitched a flat wagon to his 1950's red tractor, then installed the wooden side rails of the cart, and filled it with a bed of straw.

At noon all of us 8^th graders gathered at Ryan's farm and climbed on board. The sky was gray and April-overcast, but holding dry.

All of us kids piled on – the rowdy boys first, led by our host Stevie, and they went to roughhouse at the front of the wagon.

They began hooting and hollering as the rest of the class helped each other get on.

Stevie's dad installed the back-guard, and slipped into the driver's seat. This man owned acres and acres of timber country west and north of town, so the tractor and wagon crossed the main road, and soon we were on dirt logging trails winding peacefully through the new foliage of virgin oak and hickory forest.

But then, it started to drizzle. Soon enough, the lightness of the precipitation grew dusky as the drops gradually became more distinct and bullet-sized.

Although the scenery was beautiful – wet and shimmering spring greenery on all sides – I never knew a tractor could move so slow.

Across the narrow end of the wagon from me, Jodie and Gina sat close together and chatted away as thick as thieves. The rain fell in a slanting mist into Jodie's face, but her smooth blond hair and refreshing smile only glowed more natural because of it.

Gina, on the other hand, had her blow-dried hair deflated on her head like a soaked soufflé. Make-up ran down her face, and her turquoise eye shadow looked cakey and particularly frightening when she blinked.

I shoved my hands in the pockets of my windbreaker and wished it were a poncho.

Gina was babbling merrily. "…And then Chris starts, you know, kissing on her neck, and – "

"What are you talking about?" I interrupted.

"A new book," Gina quipped. "It's called Flowers in the Attic."

"I've heard of it."

Gina ignored me with a scowl. She continued exclusively to Jodie: "So, then there they are, you know – alone – and before they can stop themselves, they are Making Out!"

"Girlfriend and boyfriend?" I asked.

Jodie gave me one of her patented 'dumb Simon' looks, and informed me without emotion, "Brother and sister."

"What!"

"Well," Jodie continued with a sigh. "They don’t exactly know. They were little kids locked up in the attic and grew up together, and now they are old enough for sex, and start having feelings for one another."

Gina picked up the story. "Up until the old lady walks in on them…"

The girl's happy banter about Flowers in the Attic made me suddenly think of being trapped in a space like that. It would be horrible, congested and stifling; shut away where no one knows why or where you suffer.

I spoke in a voice almost as if to myself. "I'm sorry that Father Strathmore forced you into the closet."

Silence.

Gina and Jodie heard me plain as day, then Gina blinked in some acknowledgement of how sincere I was.

"Yeah," she said. "That was bad. It's hard to believe it was a year ago already."

Jodie put her arm around Gina's shoulder and hugged her.

When they turned attention back to me, I added, "Thinking about that book made me remember the way he treated you. I didn't say so on the day, but I thought of you as my hero. You were so good and brave, and you stood your ground – and he, well, he just acted like a jerk."

"Yeah," Jodie agreed. "A real jerk trying to prove some point. It's a shame anyone in the world has to suffer just to make somebody else's stupid 'point.'"

As always, Jodie – my best friend – was right.

Gina puzzled with a scowl. "But I wonder why Father Strathmore was suddenly reassigned..? He like left with no goodbyes that same week."

A flash of Sister Jodie's tearful eyes as we spoke in her office the day of my second Confession floated across my vision. She said she would do something, something to help me and the rest of the kids, and apparently she had.

"I know," Jodie piped in. "Since then, Saint Lazarus has had a string of visiting priests. I hope we get a permanent pastor soon."

I sort of agreed. Every week we had a new priest visiting our church and saying mass for the school classes, and some of them looked fresh out of war duty. Like they were only half-present in our little community because their eyes still saw some hidden trauma carried with them from the slums of Bogotá, or the barrios of Rio. Imagine the contrast of suddenly winding up, only partially connected, to a peaceful place like Judas Tree.

Gina spoke like she was a great authority on the matter. "Well, I heard that those young men do not go into the priesthood like they used to. Something is keeping them from wanting that life anymore."

I indulge in a quiet notion to myself, 'Probably for good reasons too.' Many of 'those young men' do not feel accursed with something that needs constant flogging with themselves, thank God.

The thought is plain enough that no matter how sad and pathetic it is for a person to self-impose a life of claustrophobic shadow-dwelling, to force another into the same dark closet is just wrong, maybe, it's just plain evil. If only God puts love in our heart, who puts hate in it? Maybe only the Other sows the seed of evil that says it is rational to hate the self at all costs. This hate is like temptation, like assuming a moral high ground; it becomes like Satan taking Jesus to the top of a mountain and saying he can have all that he sees as his personal property if he only succumbs to what he knows is not natural, and denies the love our Creator planted in his heart. That impulse is destructive, and what is immoral, if not that?

Jodie sighed. "But I do like Father Kim, somewhat."

I knew what she meant. Father Kim was in our parish about once a month, and he was fairly young. As a guy from Korea, he was sometimes difficult to understand, and there was usually a certain scent on his breath – like, I don’t know, garlic – and that made our face-to-face Confessions with him is as brief as possible.

Jodie suddenly looked inspired; that radiance shone through even the raindrops peppering her smile. "Too bad Sister Jodie can't be our parish priest."

Gina snorted with a scoffed: "Girls aren't allowed to be priests!"

Jodie swayed her upper body in a display of self-confidence. "For now."

I liked the idea. "That would be best. Sister Jodie would be the absolute best priest we ever had, she really would."

Jodie bobbed her head once in clear agreement, but Gina quickly began talking about her book again. She shut me out, whether she wanted to or not.

I found myself thinking that Gina was going to continue monopolizing Jodie's company all day, and no doubt later as well at Ryan McKay's indoor party. She was going to stick to my friend like glue; that was easy enough to see, and made me a bit sad, because I had something to give Jodie. However, to do it, I needed a moment alone, and I hope I get it.

Jodie probably saw how miserable I was from the heavy raindrops now soaking the hay and our clothes, because she pivoted her attention to me.

"And what are you reading at the moment, Simon?"

"That book from the new movie – Amityville Horror."

"Ugh!" Gina scowled. "You read that stuff?!"

"It's good. It's scary, but you also get to know the family."

Jodie, in her classic style, came to my defense in an understated way. "Let me borrow it when you're through. Okay?"

"Ok." I felt my ice-cold cheeks crack into a big grin.

Gina cast a dismayed and sideways glance at Jodie, who ignored it.

Instead, my best friend smiled and said to me, "I bet you are reading something else; something none of the rest of us would be reading."

I was so cold, but I felt my ears take on some color. "Well, I'm also reading All Quiet on the Western Front."

"What's that about?" Gina asked with genuine interest.

"It's about a group of boys – kids just a little older than us – whose teacher persuades them to join up and fight in World War One."

"Wow," Jodie marveled. "And then what happens?"

"I don’t know yet. I haven’t finished, but the boys are growing closer, and losing each other."

"Losing each other?" Gina scoffed.

"Yeah," I said. "They are getting killed one by one. It's sad, but – I don’t know – it's also a beautiful book."

Gina combined a huff with a shrug and resumed her chattering. "So, anyway, the old lady…"

The boisterous boys had all sat down by this point, and looked like wet puppies who wanted this ride to be over and done with.

The tractor's engine noise suddenly sounded different. We were coming into a clearing, and it was behind me, so I rotated on the wet straw. I used my arms spread flat on top of the guard panels and set my chin flat to watch. The gap in the forest was about two hundred yards square. An undulating rise passed up from the road we were on, and every square inch of this meadow was alive and in motion.

The rain lightly pelted an even sea of clover. The emerald hue of which was made to seem raw by the sheen coating it via the spring shower. Hundreds – no, thousands – of fluffy white flowers bobbed and swayed as our hayride slowly passed in procession, and I actually thought to myself that this will be one of those totally unaccountable moments that I will never forget for the rest of my life.

I heard Jodie's soft voice ask me from behind, "I wonder how many four-leaf clovers are actually out there."

"Enough," I whispered, and enjoyed the realization that Jodie and I were enjoying this quiet moment with the same thoughts and feelings.

The tractor engine altered sounds again, and I knew we were slowly pulling out of this clearing.

Not really caring if anyone heard me or not, I mumbled: "Do you think we'll still be friends once we start our new schools?"

Gina's voice boomed from behind me. "I don’t see why not!"

I turned around to face the girls again, chuckling. "Yes. I know Jodie will be ok. She makes friends easily."

"Yeah she does," Gina piped in agreement. "Did she tell you about her new gas station pal?"

"No…"

Jodie appeared reluctant.

"Tell him," Gina urged.

"It's no big deal," Jodie demurred, as a peek of sunshine came out to light her smile.

Gina whined: "Go on, tell him."

"Well, it's no big deal, but one day last week I was calling someone and got the wrong number. It turns out I had dialed the number of the filling station, you know the one, right next to the Bi-Rite – "

"Yeah, I know the one."

"And instead of saying 'sorry,' and hanging up, I started chatting with this girl who answered the phone and works there." Jodie shrugged. "We ended up talking for an hour. She's cool."

"How old is she?" I wanted to know.

"Seventeen, and in Judas Tree High."

"Wow. You do make friends easily, unlike me."

"You'll do fine in high school, Simon." Jodie tried to reassure.

"I wish I was more like you, Jodie."

Gina scoffed: "More like a girl?"

"What's wrong with that?" I demanded mildly.

"It's weird for a boy to say that."

"I don’t think it's weird," Jodie said, shutting down the whole thing.

Gina suddenly shivered through her whole body. She crossed and slapped her hands on her upper arms. "This sucks rotten eggs! It's so cold!"

Without warning, I had a flashback. "Not as cold as that class picnic we had in the 2^nd grade."

Visions of Judas Tree City Park, and of the play fort there, filtered through my mind.

"Do you remember, Gina?" I teased, knowing full well she did.

"You talking about the day I fell in the creek?"

I laughed: "Yep!"

Jodie joined in with me.

Gina, on the other hand, shook her head. "Yes. That was cold too. Thanks for bringing up one of the worst experiences in my life." Her face was a wash of sarcasm.

Jodie and I laughed again, and the creek girl folded her arms in protest against us.

Thoughts of the fort made me think of Jodie's old boyfriend. "What ever happened to Terry?"

"He's fine. We talk sometimes. Now he's dating an 8^th grade girl from Judas Tree Public School."

I was sickened that the boy was shoving himself deeper into the back of the closet, but relieved too, for Jodie's sake.

Soon I'd be in high school with Terry, and the thought made me uneasy; this whole thing made me uneasy.

"Aren’t you girls worried about high school?"

They shrugged in unison.

"What are you anxious about?" Jodie asked with real concern.

I sighed. "Maybe, just about change in general, about us breaking up as a class, about us transitioning into high school students."

Gina's tone was soft. "Why?"

"Because as 8^th graders, we are the biggest fish in the Saint Lazarus pond, but soon we will have to learn to swim again as high school small fry."

˚˚˚˚˚

The hayride was over.

As the tractor and wagon rumbled over the gravel road past Ryan McKay's milking barn, we saw his mom had set up a card table. On it were Styrofoam cups, and when we started piling out, she filled them with steaming hot chocolate!

We lined up and filed past so one hearty cup could slip effortlessly into our near-frozen hands at a time, and also so we could mumble 'thanks' before moving on. A bit warmed, we started down the road to Ryan's house, which was about a quarter of a mile away – upwind of course from the cow pastures.

The boys of my class downed their drinks, tossed the cups, and roughly played like professional wrestlers. They led the vanguard to the party venue with shouts, catcalls, mild headlocks, and pile-drives.

Most of the other girls also walked briskly, sipping their cocoa and keeping warm with idle chitchat, but to my delight, Jodie hung back with me. We walked together shoulder-to-shoulder and in quiet slowness.

The sun too began to break through and periodically hit my cheek like imposed blushes from an outside source.

"That sure was some cold ride, huh?" Jodie took a sip while gripping her cup double-fisted.

I extended my arm with an elbow bent towards her to see if she'd take it. She instantly thrust her hand and forearm through it and latched onto my upper arm.

That felt nice. She led us on, and drew in close so we could share our body warmth, and it was nice too that I could feel of more a man than those stupid boys running ahead to play frisbee, or tag football in the mud.

Jodie took a big sip as I watched, and then sighed a steamy wreath of dragon's breath while she asked me, "Did you hear the news?"

"What news?"

"Me and Blakie are going to the state Speech finals."

I just grinned like a boy with a hidden gem to use.

"What?" she asked flatly.

"Little Miss Grammar, don’t you mean 'Blakie and I?'"

She rolled her eyes. "Blakie and I are going to the State finals. Do you even care..?"

"Oh Jodie, don’t act that way, please. Ok. I'm sorry. I was just playing the smartass. You're going to the finals, that's great. Really, congrats! You guys deserve it."

"You really think so..?"

"Yes! You've worked so hard, and you guys are great together; you're like two peas in a pod."

She squeezed my arm affectionately. "You're a funny one, Simon."

"I was wondering," I asked. "Why do you think cross-class friendships are so rare?"

"Cross-class?"

"Yeah. People don’t make friends, like you and Blakie did, across school years. I don’t know any boys that I'd consider buddies from other grades."

"I don’t know. Maybe with girls it's easier."

I considered that a moment. What she says is apparently true: guys in high school will approach their buddies' sisters and cousins with a romantic interest, but does that really mean 'friendship?'

Jodie's new boyfriend was exactly like that: a friend of her brother's. But, we were talking about Blakie, and I didn’t know if he was interested in dating Jodie at all. In fact, that guy was so standoffish, I didn’t think I knew the first thing about him. Somehow, that seemed to be the way he wanted it.

For me, I knew for sure my feelings for this super-attractive girl were not tied up into romantic knots of longing. I was lucky to have her the way I needed her; as a pal and confidant, and as a friend I could love openly. She was the only one in my life like that, and I had come today prepared to show her.

I stopped.

"Hold up a sec," I said setting my cocoa cup down on the ground.

Jodie did stop, and watched me dig – my wet hand had a difficult time sliding into my jeans pocket. I had carried around this jagged thing with its sharp edges all day long; it poked me mercilessly on the hayride.

I watched Jodie's eyes grow large while I extracted a silver charm bracelet, one bobble and chain link at a time.

"What’s that..?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"It's a little something I got for you."

She was speechless, as my other finger grabbed the flapping end. I suspended it up like a sagging arch before Jodie's admiring gaze.

The charms were all little icons of emotions: there was a 3-D heart with an arrow through it, a mid-flight cupid with his bow, a pair of hearts half merged, and a 'be mine' in fancy script. In the center was one charm larger than the rest; it was another heart wrapped up and tied in a bow.

"Do you like it?" I asked her.

She blinked once, shifting her attention to my eyes.

"You don’t have to give me anything."

"Oh yeah? And what if I want to give it to you? Would you break my heart and refuse it?"

"We're friends, Simon."

Maybe it was just me, but there was something that looked slightly hurt in Jodie's pretty face as she said that.

"I know," I reassured her. "That's why I want to show you. You can tell your boyfriend that your dad gave it to you, but you'll know who really gave it to you, and you'll know why too."

"I…" she stammered.

"We're friends. Friends can show their love too, right?" I picked up her hand and set the bracelet in her palm.

A wry smile crept across her lips as she asked, "Where did you get it?"

"My dad's antique shop. He says it's from the 1940's and probably a gift from a GI to his sweetheart."

Jodie looked sad again. She rolled the charms gently under her fingertip.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"Yes. I do." She brightened and almost did an excited half-hop. "It's beautiful. Help me put it on."

I took her Styrofoam cup and placed it on the gravel next to mine; the rims kissed, they were so close together.

Jodie held out her wrist to me. I took the bracelet and figured out how to work the clasp, then – as I placed it on her – I told her with deep emotions, "Just don’t forget me, ok?"

After it was secure and dangling free, Jodie shook her hand and forearm to make it jingle. All of a sudden, she bent slightly at the hip and laid a quick but loud kiss on my cheek.

"Don’t worry. I won't forget you. Not ever." Her eyebrows flared at the end of her comment, and I bet so did the rolling flush of my crimson face and neck.

She picked up our drinks, conspicuously letting her wrist-wear jangle over the rim as she handed my cup back to me.

We walked on, but now Jodie playfully grinned and let her shoulder be in almost continual contact with mine.

I had a nagging concern. "Even though you're going to a different high school, you won't forget me?"

"Nope. Not gonna happen." She flicked her wrist in my direction with a giddy smile. "Not a chance. Why do you keep saying that?"

"Truth?"

"Yes," she insisted. "I always want the truth from you, because you are my friend. And because you trust me, right?"

"Yes, more than almost anyone, I do."

"Then spit it out."

"It's because without you, I am going to feel so alone. That's why."

She stopped dead in her tracks, letting me walk on a few paces before I noticed her absence. When I halted and looked back to her, it seemed like she had just realized something profound; it was written as a frown on her lovely visage.

"God, you really miss him, don’t you..?"

I felt the heat rise from my collar again. There was just one person she could be referring to, and yes, she knew my heart as well as I did. Nevertheless, I felt abashed and nodded towards the gravel at my feet. "It's true, I've missed him a lot."

Her darkness lifted and she strode up to me with confidence. Jodie interlocked her arm under mine, and seemed strangely much relieved. She pulled me along and chatted brightly. "You never told me. How did it go between you and Blakie?"

I shrugged. "He's so cold to me. What were we supposed to connect on, anyway?"

She murmured under her breath: "Boys…"

"What?"

"You boys are all so dumb. And, worst of all, you don’t help each other."

"I don’t know what you're saying."

She sighed and pulled me closer. "Never mind. I'll take care of it. Come on, we'll miss the beginning of Ryan's party, and – I'm sorry that you miss Dustin so much, but I understand why. He's a great guy."

"But, how did you know I missed him like that? I mean, as much as I do?"

She bit her whispered breaths into the words: "Boys are so dumb."

"What's that?"

"I said, I can just tell, Simon. You and I are friends, so I know how you feel. Okay?"

"Yes, friends. Ok." I smiled despite how I dreaded possibly losing her as my most trusted companion in the near future.

"I can just tell, that's all. So, let me do my magic."