When is James not James? - 1. When is James not James?

“Markson, Phillbert, would either one of the two of you care to tell me what happened?”

James Markson and Peter Phillbert stood in front of their headmaster, both looking like they had been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Peter’s shirt was hanging open as it was missing a couple of buttons and it was splattered in blood (though none of it his own), his school blazer had one sleeve ripped clean off, and his school tie was nowhere to be seen. James looked slightly more presentable in that he, at least, was wearing his school tie; however, unlike Peter, his top lip was split, there were a couple of scrapes where the knees of his trousers were missing, and he held a blood-soaked handkerchief over his nose.

“Markson, Phillbert, I’m waiting!”

“It was just some rough-housing that got out of hand sir,” said James.

“Markson, ‘rough-housing’ does not leave me with three year ten students in the hospital, and you here dripping blood all over my office!” Mr Daniels rose out of his chair with such force that the chair was sent rolling backwards, and he slammed his hands down on his pine desk. He glared at both of the boys in front of him, took a deep breath to attempt to control his rising frustration, and continued, “Now cut the bullshit, and tell me the truth!”

Neither boy had ever heard a teacher cuss; let alone cuss at a student. That, combined with the high flush on Mr Daniels’ cheeks shocked them both, shocked them enough to almost tell him the truth; 'almost' being the operative word.

“I already told you sir. ‘It was just some rough-housing that got of hand’”

“Phillbert? Is that your version of events as well?”

Peter knew that he wouldn’t tell Mr Daniels the truth; not now and not ever. With great reluctance, for the first time ever in his fourteen years, he lied; he lied not only to a teacher, but also to his headmaster. “Yes sir. It was just some rough-housing.”

“I somehow doubt that the three boys in the hospital will provide the same version of events. You two will report to me first thing Monday morning for my decision on your punishment. You are suspended for the remainder of today and all day tomorrow; you will not set one toe on school property, and you will talk to no other student about this. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir,” the two boys said in unison.

“Now, get out of my office.”

Mr Daniels knew the three year ten boys who had been hospitalised. They had the worst disciplinary record of anyone in the school, and had in fact only just returned from a two day suspension for being caught intimidating a year seven boy who was nearly a foot shorter than them. Mr Daniels, in fact, wouldn’t be at all surprised if those three boys had been asking to get beaten up.

He knew Markson; had known him since the first day of school. Mr Daniels had always believed that if every boy in the school was like Markson, then the teachers could teach, the students could learn, and he could actually do his job instead of handing out suspensions and breaking up fights.

Phillbert, he didn’t really know. The boy had only started attending the school at the start of the current term, three weeks ago. He had transferred from a school in Colchester, but his school reports were glowing and no disciplinary problems had been reported. In fact, on the surface of it, Phillbert seemed like a carbon copy of Markson.

Mr Daniels was all too familiar with the code of the playground, after all, he had been in education for nearly forty years; however, he had never known young Master Markson to be one who subscribed to it. He knew that Markson was no grass, but still he was a sensible and level-headed individual. For him to suddenly throw up a wall of silence like this, there had to be something big behind it; that thought made Mr Daniels very uncomfortable.

Peter and James walked home together, since they only lived one street away from each other.

“Thanks Peter. I know that was hard on you in there.”

“I said I’d stick to the story and I did. What about when he talks to those older boys, though? They’ll tell him what happened.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I really can’t see them telling the headmaster the reason why they got beaten up; after all, they’d be in far more shit that either of us is in. I just wish that you hadn’t gotten involved, it’s my problem.”

“I wasn’t about to stand by and watch three against one, especially when they’re twice as big as you are.”

“What about now that you know the reason why they attacked me? Do you regret getting involved?”

Peter looked at the smaller boy and realised that the truth hadn’t really surprised him; it wasn’t quite what he was expecting, but there was no surprise. He’d only been in the school for three weeks, and just knew that there was something different about James. What had surprised him more than the revelation itself, was the fact that nobody knew James’ secret; except for those three bigger boys who had just found out. James had trusted a boy he had known for three short weeks with something that the headmaster, that the teachers, that even his closest friends didn’t know; something that had shocked and reviled the three sixteen year old boys.

“Not for one second. You’re different, but it’s the differences that make life worth living. If we were all the same, it’d be a very dull planet. I’ll be honest with you though, I’m not sure I’d have the guts to do what you’ve done. If I’d known in advance why they’d attacked you, I wouldn’t have left it at a few broken bones, I’d have killed them.”

The two boys passed by James’ house first, and saw that the kitchen lights were on.

“Shit, looks like Mum’s got the afternoon of work. I was hoping to be able to clean up a little before she saw me; try and make this not look quite as bad as it is.”

“My dad’s away on a conference today and tomorrow. You want to come round my place and clean up?”

“You sure you don’t mind having a freak in your house?”

“James, don’t call yourself that. You are not a freak.” Although James heard the sincerity in Peter’s voice, he still doubted its veracity.

The two continued down the road and turned the corner onto the street Peter lived on. As expected, Peter found the house in darkness. He dug into his pocket and located his key.

As he opened the door, Peter said, “Come on in, mi casa es su casa. The bathroom is upstairs and it’s the door straight in front of you.”

“Thanks Peter.” James took the stairs two at a time and went into the bathroom.

Peter quickly changed into a pair of tracksuit leggings and a jumper, then he went into the kitchen and dug out the first aid kit. He pulled out the disinfectant, some cotton wool, a couple of large plasters, and some of the bandages and a couple of safety pins just in case the plasters weren’t large enough. He then went into the laundry cupboard and got one of the large, fluffy bath towels. He took everything upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door.

“James, are you decent?”

Peter heard a giggle from the other side of the door. “Yeah, come on in.”

Peter opened the door, and he saw that James had managed to clean the dried blood off his face and neck, and that his nose had stopped bleeding. “Much prettier,” Peter said smiling. James looked liked he’d just been slapped across the face. “I’m sorry, James. I spoke without thinking. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just meant that you look better without a blood smeared face. It’s just an expression.”

“I know Peter. It’s just that it’s something I’m really sensitive over. After what happened at school today, you must understand why?”

“I do James. I really am sorry. I can’t promise you it won’t happen again, but please know that I would never do anything or say anything to intentionally hurt you.”

James smiled at Peter; his first real smile that day. “Thanks Peter. I guess I really can’t hold you to more than that can I?”

“What I came up for was to give you this towel and say to help yourself to a shower. After you’re done, I’ve got the first aid stuff and I’ll dress those scrapes on your knees. Then we can have some proper lunch; none of that school cafeteria poison.”

“Thanks Peter. That’s really sweet of you.” James reached over, and touched Peter on the back of his hand and smiled again. It was just meant as a friendly gesture, a kind of thanks for being so nice to me and not kicking the shit out of me gesture; but as soon as he’d done it, James pulled his hand back. “I didn’t mean anything, honest. It’s just . . . it’s just-”

“James-”

“It’s . . . it’s-”

“James!” James suddenly stopped babbling and stared at Peter. “It’s OK, really. It’s not a problem. I only wish that more boys were as nice as you are. If you need anything, just give me a shout.” Peter closed the bathroom door on his way out, and he heard James lock it behind him.

About twenty minutes later James called down to Peter to say that he was done. Peter went upstairs and led James into his bedroom.

“OK James, have a seat and we’ll have a look at how bad this is.” Peter rolled up James’ trouser legs and saw that both of James’ knees had each lost a layer of skin and they looked like two bits of fresh steak. Peter opened the bottle of disinfectant and the smell of it filled the room.

James screwed his nose up and said, “Christ, I hate that smell.”

Peter poured some of the disinfectant onto the cotton wool. “Now this is going to sting a bit.” As soon as the cotton wool touched his left knee James took a sharp intake of breath and cussed. “We’re almost done James. If I don’t disinfect this, you could get an infection.” When Peter started cleaning the scrapes on James’ right knee, James took a deep breath but managed to hold off on the cussing.

“Damn. The area is too big for a plaster; I’ll have to use the bandages. It’ll look worse than it really is, but it’s the only way to keep it covered up until the skin heals over.” After putting on the bandages, Peter rolled James’ trouser legs down. “Ready for lunch?”

“Yep.” Peter took James by the hand and helped him up from the chair he was in.

Both boys went downstairs to the kitchen, and Peter ferreted around in the fridge.

“I know you’re in here. Where are you?” James heard stuff being moved around, and then Peter said, “There you are! Thinking you could hide from me.”

Peter proudly showed off the glass bowl he had located. “Leftover chilli con carne. I always make too much of it. I just haven’t got the knack of only cooking for me and Dad; so whatever I cook always lasts us for at least two days.”

“You cook?”

“Yeah, I cook. So what of it?”

James looked at Peter for a second , smiled and said, “And here I thought I was a freak.”

“You cheeky little shit. What’s wrong with a boy who can cook?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s just not something I expected from someone like you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m sorry, Peter. That didn’t come out how I meant it. I just meant that you’re a sporty person, you clearly work out, you’ve got far more muscles than I’ll ever have. You’re just not the typical type of guy who cooks.”

“True. But then if I acted the way you expect from someone like me, I’d have joined those boys who attacked you, instead of protecting you.” James gave a wry smile and shrugged his shoulders. “James, I want to ask you something, but don’t feel like you have to answer. Why did you tell me? How did you know you could trust me?”

“I told you because you saved me from those bullies. You didn’t seem to care why they were beating me up; you just knew it was wrong. I felt you at least deserved to know why I was being beaten up.”

“Well, your secret is safe with me.”

The two boys had a quick lunch, and after James had made himself slightly more presentable, Peter offered to walk him home.

“That’s sweet Peter, but I only live round the corner.”

“I know, but I want to.”

James smiled at Peter, fluttered his eyelids and said, “Why thank you kind sir.”

“‘Kind sir’? You’re not exactly some damsel in distress you know, James.”

“I know, but you are just like the knights of old, coming to my rescue like you did.”

“I just did what anyone else would have done.”

“No you didn’t. There were a couple of other boys who saw what was happening, but didn’t want to get involved. If you hadn’t stepped in when you did, I could be the one in a hospital bed right now; or maybe somewhere even worse. I’ll never forget what you did for me today.” Before he even realised what he was doing, he had his arms wrapped around Peter’s waist and was hugging him.

Peter was a little surprised at first and then he felt James hesitatingly start to pull back. Not wanting James to think that he stepped over a line, Peter hugged him back and said, “Anytime.”

They walked back to James’ house in silence. James opened the front door and said, “Do you want to come in?”

“Sure. Beats sitting at home on my own.”

James heard his mum call from the kitchen. “Honey, is that you?”

“Yeah Mum.”

“You’re home early.” Mrs Markson appeared in the hall, and was drying her hands on a tea towel. She saw that James had a cut lip and a uniform that was far tattier that the one that he went to school in. “What the hell happened to you?”

“It looks a lot worse than it really is Mum.”

“That’s not what I asked.” It was then that she noticed Peter. “And who may I ask are you?”

“My name’s Peter, ma’am. Peter Phillbert. I’m in James’ class.”

“One question answered. I’m still waiting on you James. What happened?”

“I got jumped by three boys in the year above me. If Peter hadn’t jumped in to save me, it could have been a lot worse.”

“I’m sorry I was abrupt with you just now, Peter. It’s just that James is a special child.”

“I know Mrs Markson.”

“What do you mean, you know?”

“Just that Mum. I told Peter about me after he saved me from the bullies.”

“James, I’ve told you, you need to keep quiet about it. Not everyone is going to be as accepting as your father and I.”

“It’s not a problem for me, Mrs Markson. I told James earlier that he’s just different, ‘but it’s the differences that make life worth living’. I don’t claim to understand anything about transgenders and Gender Identity Dysphoria, and I’m not sure I’ll ever truly understand it. All I care about is that James seems a great kid, and hopefully he and I will become friends. It really doesn’t matter to me that he was born a girl called Jane.”