Broken - 21. 44

The Michael’s family returned from Tupelo triumphantly early Sunday afternoon with some poison ivy, a touch of sunburn and an ice chest full of catfish. It took Scotty a total of ten minutes to find Brian and me holed up in the fort.

Scotty chattered like a magpie about their Saturday fishing trip over to Sardis Lake. They took their Uncle’s bass boat and a flat bottomed john boat and left a little before dawn on Saturday and fished all day. Brian and I couldn’t help but smile at Scotty’s enthusiasm. It was pretty clear that he had a good time. He made it sound like the fish were fighting over the chance to jump in their boat. They had some really nice pictures of Scotty and his cousin Ray holding up big stringers with nice sized catfish and white perch.

The best news he brought- his folks were having a fish fry that night. Cat fish, hush puppies, French fries, corn on the cob and it promised to be epic. Scotty had specific instructions to have us back at his house by 6:00.

It was the first time in a while that the three of us had a chance just to hang out. Brian rummaged through his stash and loaded some bong hits and I knew that it was time to have the conversation that I had been dreading for the last few weeks.

Brian beat me to the punch with some good news. “Doug is coming over for spring break.”

Scotty’s smile got even bigger. “It will sure be good to see him. How is he doing anyway?”

Brian got that far away look in his eye that he got whenever Doug’s name came up. It never went away for him. It never really went away for any of us except when we were stoned, out there away from everybody else.

He said slowly, “Doug has changed a lot. Casey let’s me talk to him pretty regular but he’s different.”

Scotty asked, “Casey, your cousin?”

“Yeah, Mom finally dumped my old man. He got drunk, hit Mark and that was the last straw for her. She is living in Clinton now and I’m staying with Casey.”

I chimed in, “Yeah, Casey is cool. He made us breakfast yesterday.”

Brian chuckled, “Leave it to you to be swayed by sausage and biscuits. Casey spent a solid hour patching Jimmy up to after he wiped out on his bike Friday night.”

Scotty looked concerned and asked, “What happened?”

I said, “Some jerk left a booby trap for me on my trail. There was some fishing line tied off between two trees across the trail, I hit it and went down hard.”

Brian continued, “I was headed back here from Nate’s house and found Jimmy laid out cold on the trail. We limped back here and have been taking it easy all weekend.”

Scotty ran his hand over the back of my head. The knot wasn’t as bad or as painful as it had been but he frowned when he felt it. He sighed, hugged me softly, “I can’t leave you alone for a weekend without you getting in trouble.”

I leaned into Scotty and put my arm around him. He put his head on my shoulder and I felt him shake. He said choking back tears, “They’re never going to leave us alone are they? I’m afraid they’re going to kill you Jimmy. Every time it gets worse.”

I looked deeply into his eyes and said with all the resolve that I could muster, “That’s why we’ve got to take care of each other. All of us.” I used my other arm to pull Brian into the hug. As the three of us sat there in a clumsy embrace I said, “I love you both so much that it hurts. I couldn’t make it without you two.”

Scotty sobbed bitterly, “What good am I to you? If it wasn’t for me being such a sissy, they would leave you alone. “

The only way that I could answer him was to wrap myself around him. I was his armor. At that moment I knew that I could never tell Scotty about that awful day in February. Scotty had enough on his mind without having to look over his shoulder and worry about Pete. I had to be the strong one.

We did what we always did. We got stoned. It took the edge off and we could smile again. Before long we forgot all about it. Besides, it was a hell of a lot more fun to talk about the X-men, tell fart jokes and laugh than consider the horrors of predatory plumber-rapists.

The three of us enjoyed a nice, mellow spring afternoon and began making plans for spring break.

The fish-fry that night was indeed epic. The three of us stuffed ourselves and parted ways for the evening full of high hopes for the upcoming holiday.

The week before spring break was a maddening, hectic blur. Of course there were mid-terms. I was thrilled when the math mid-term was a take-home test. I wasn’t so thrilled when I got a good look at it. Yikes.

Spring football practice started Monday afternoon. The team was in for a week of non-contact drills where you put on a helmet and shoulder pads and the coaches run you until you drop. I didn’t have any problems with the conditioning drills. My daily bike ride up Nutbuster Ridge had made my legs strong. Some of the guys who liked to snicker at me and make rude comments were laid out puking but I was going strong.

The junior high team consisted of next years eighth and ninth graders. The team was split into two squads: the Red team and the Blue team. The conditioning drills and work that we did before spring break was graded by the coaches. The coaches would assign the players to the Red or the Blue team on Friday before spring break. The way it generally worked out, players on the Red team would probably be the starters next fall. After spring break we would come back for a week and a half of full contact drills which ended with the annual spring Red-Blue game.

Some of the drills that the coaches dreamed up were down right sadistic even if you were in shape. The one that I hated the most was called the “crab”. You had to get on the ground standing on the tips of your toes and hands, without your knees touching the ground and then go back and forth between the yard lines.

Working out with the eighth graders went better than I thought it would.

After four sets of the dreaded crabs, one of the eighth graders rolled over on his back with his hands and feet in the air like a dead beetle and exclaimed, “Ugh, I think I’d rather have crabs than do crabs.” For some reason that I didn’t quite grasp, the coaches and some of the eighth graders howled with laughter.

I got a tremendous amount of satisfaction out of a couple of long runs the coaches sent us on. I thought that my ole buddy Trent, Mister “It-Ain’t-Christian-To-Hang-Out-With-Fags-and-Potheads” himself, was going to croak. He wouldn’t have made it if he hadn’t been leaning on me for the last quarter mile of the run.

Since the guys that had been tormenting Foster were either suspended or had been warned off by the principal, he really came out of his shell. In fact a very pretty girl named Sherry had started following him around like a puppy which caused him blush about the color of a fire truck. I had to smile seeing them together. Sherry was half a head taller than Foster but they made a cute couple.

Scotty and I wondered how Foster’s best friend Steven would fare but it did not bother him in the least. His spot as Foster’s best friend was quite unassailable and the three of them got along from the start. Steven stayed right beside Foster and actually looked proud that his best friend had such a cute girl friend.

Sherry and her friend Cindy soon became a regular addition to our lunch table which suited us just fine. How could the Neanderthals call us fags when two of the finest girls in seventh grade were hanging with us?

Wednesday after school, Brian and I made a point to track down Mark and Clay to see what their plans were for Spring Break. We caught up with them at the band hall one afternoon after school. Mark and Clay had hooked up with a tie-dyed drummer and a hippie chick keyboard player and were making some pretty good noise.

Mark introduced us to his drummer Robb and his keyboard player Kitty and invited us to kick back and listen. I noticed that Mark was playing a bass which was a something new for him. Kitty and Robb were very nice and seemed to be delighted to have an audience. In fact, I think they showed off a little.

The four musicians had a little huddle in the middle of their instruments and Mark stepped up speaking into a microphone, “One, two, three…” Then quietly and sweetly Mark sang.

“Take a straight and stronger course to the corner of your life.
Make the white queen run so fast she hasn't got time to make you a wife.

Then the rest of the band joined in chorus.

'Cause it's time, it's time in time with your time and its news is captured.
For the queen to use.
Move me on to any black square,
Use me any time you want,
Just remember that the goal
Is for us all to capture all we want
(Move me on to any black square)
Yea, yea, yea”.

Then Clay cut lose with his Strat and the whole band began to jam.

“I've seen all good people turn their heads each day so satisfied I'm on my way.
I've seen all good people turn their heads each day so satisfied I'm on my way.
I've seen all good people turn their heads each day so satisfied I'm on my way.”

They finished the song by Yes and began playing Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin. Brian and I looked at each other in amazement and didn’t have to say a word. We couldn’t have if we had wanted too. They were as loud as they were good.

I couldn’t even imagine that voice coming out of Mark. It didn’t look like it was possible for this cute little blond headed kid to have that kind of power and range.

Clay was just impressive on his guitar and with backup vocals. Their drummer Robb was OK but I was really impressed with their keyboard player Kitty. She had played All Good People just like the original band had but I liked their version of the Led Zeppelin song better than the original.

After they finished playing Whole Lotta Love Mark looked at me with a grin.

I just said, “What are you looking at me for? You know you’re good.” Brian produced a lighter and held it up high for a concert salute and hooted.

After a few more songs, Dr. Gray, the band director, emerged from his office and said, “All right guys, that a rap for today. I need to lock up.”

As the band turned off their instruments and stored their gear, Brian and I gushed over their performance and asked them about their plans for spring break. Mark said that they had to go down to Baton Rouge but that they would be back on Thursday and made plans to join us at the fort for a couple of days. They were just as delighted as the rest of us to hear that Doug was going to be in town.

The Friday before spring break was a half day. I took my last two exams and went to the gym to find out which of the two JV teams I had made. We sat in the bleachers as the coaches called out our names. When you were called, you went down to where the coaches were and they gave you a red or a blue jersey.

It seemed like it took forever but they finally called me. I went down sheepishly and Coach T just grinned. He reached into a box and handed me a red jersey with the number 44 on it.

He said, “Congratulation Jimmy. You earned it in all sorts of ways.”

I took the coveted red jersey in my hand and looked at it. It was a nylon mesh bright red in color with white numbers. I slipped it on and said, “Thanks Coach.”

Coach T gave me a swat and said, “Have a good spring break Jimmy and try to stay out of trouble.”

By the time I had collected my junk from the lockers and was on my bike, most of the rest of the students were already gone. Brian had gone off to see Nate to get some weed or whatever for our spring break festivities.

I’m not sure why but I decided to follow Brian over to Nate’s house. Brian usually did the buying for us but I had been over to Nate’s house a couple of times with him. I casually rolled off down into the woods proudly wearing my new jersey.

It didn’t take too long to get there. Nate’s house was just around the block from the school. I pulled up in his back yard off the trails and saw Brian’s bike parked neatly beside the garden shed in the back yard.

I put my kick stand down and parked beside Brian’s bike and walked up to the back door that opened into the living room. There was a screen door on the outside but the interior door was cracked open. I smelled pot and it smelled pretty damned good. I actually had my hand up about to knock when I saw something inside that shocked me.

Brian had his pants and underwear down below his knees, his shirt pulled up and was lying on the sofa. Nate was on his knees giving Brian a rather vigorous blow job.

Rather than spoil their moment, I retreated back to where the bikes were parked. I sat on my bike and pretended like I had just pulled up. From Brian’s reactions to Nate’s “work”, I didn’t expect that they would take very long.

I sat on my bike thinking for a minute. What the hell had I just seen? Was Nate Brian’s boyfriend or were they just pals with benefits? It wasn’t any of my business. I decided to be glad for Brian that he was getting a little. He was a nice guy and real sweet once you got to know him but he was lonely and unhappy since his brother had been sent away.

Sure enough, it didn’t take too long for Brian and Nate come out the back door. I made it look like I had just rolled up on my bike. I got off and walked up to them.

“Hey guys, ready for some spring break?”

Nate grinned and said, “Oh hell yeah!”

Brian saw the red jersey that I was wearing and said, “Nice Jimmy- you made the Red team!”

I smiled and nodded. Then I said, “Uhh, I’ve got a few bucks Nate. You got some weed?”

He said, “You know it dude. Come on inside.”

I followed Nate inside. I really couldn’t see what Brian saw in him. Sure he was older but while he wasn’t exactly fat, he wasn’t exactly hot either. Nate just looked scruffy to me.

Brian and I sat down on the same couch that Brian had just been on. Yeah, seeing him like that was giving me one of those uncomfortable side-ways boners. Hell, the couch was still warm.

Nate pulled out a tackle box that he kept all his drugs in and said, “What’s your pleasure? I’ve got some pretty good weed, some hash, ludes… and oh, I’ve got some wine.”

I did a little mental math to make sure that my forty bucks would work and said, “I want a half sack of weed, five ludes, and a couple of grams of hash.”

Nate was in a good mood. He gave me a real fat half ounce of weed, eight ludes, 2 1/2 grams of hash and a bottle of wine. I had enough stuff to stay wasted all of spring break. I asked Brian what he had and his haul was similar but he had more of all categories because Scotty had thrown in with him.

We hung around and BS’ed for a while. Nate loaded us a couple of bong hits sweetened with a little hash. Although it was still early afternoon because of the half-day, Brian and I took off to the fort to get the festivities underway.

I wanted to talk to Brian about what was up between him and Nate but it was just too awkward. At some point during the week we would talk. Just not now. We had some serious inebriation to attend to.