Date: Sun, 15 Jun 2008 14:02:54 -0700
From: Danny <m12@thedoghousemail.com>
Subject: Simon's Journal: Thirteen Days, Chapter 8 of 13

Simon's Journal
Volume I

Thirteen Days - The First Crusade
A novel by Danny

Chapter 8
February 23, 2004 Monday
      Monday morning was, for the most part, a blur. I
don't even remember eating breakfast. I do, however,
remember waking up in my own bed this morning and having
to lie there for a while to try and figure out how I got
there. The last thing I recall was leaving the doctor's
office yesterday evening and then waking up in bed this
morning. Dad told me, while I sat at the table, that I
zonked right out in the van. He had to carry me to my
room and put me to bed. I guess it was such a long
stressful weekend that it all just finally caught up
with me. Funny how I can remember sitting at the table
but I don't remember eating.
      I kind of remember feeling funny that neither dad
nor mom seemed upset this morning. All weekend it was
like walking on egg shells in our house but today it was
like nothing had happened. Maybe they were feeling so
guilty for letting me suffer in my room all weekend with
my eye looking the way it did. I considered how they
would have reacted had they seen it before Jamie's mom
cleaned it up for me. I bet I could have asked for my own
car and got it!
      They also were not asking me about the meet today
and I was so glad of that. I guess the events of the
weekend had pushed it out of their minds and I was so
very grateful! At least one thing good came out all my
pain. Okay, more then one good thing came out of it but
just now, I'm focusing on today and today only.
      There is one thing though that disturbs me; when I
was coming back from taking my morning shower like so
many other mornings, I carried my wet Goodnite from the
bathroom to dispose of it in the trashcan inside my
bedroom door; however, there was already one in there and
since I had worn a real diaper the night and day before
and I'd slept over at Mike and Tater's house the night
before that, so the last time I'd put a wet Goodnite in
it would have been Friday morning before school, There
was no way mom would have left a wet Goodnight in my room
over the weekend. I mean that would be unheard of!
      The only logical thought I was able to come up with
- and I was this morning and still am too scared or maybe
just too embarrassed to ask - is when dad carried me in
last night, I must have already wet in the van and dad
must have changed me before tucking me in. I still find
it hard to believe that I could have slept through
something like that, but it's the only explanation I have
right now.
      I suppose it is entirely possible that I got up in
the middle of the night and put on a dry Goodnite, but I
think I would have remembered doing that, I mean I've
always remembered doing it in the past.
      Once I got to school all I could think about all
morning was that race. How was I going to get past the
Coach without having him see my eye? And what if Jasper
decides to tell him? I am sure that the coach won't let
me run with my eye like it is.
      Peter and the guys showed up at the house this
morning just as they had done last Friday. Against my
mothers objections dad eventually gave in and let me
ride my bike to school with the guys.
      I can't believe how much of a help Peter and the
guys were in smuggling me into the school this morning
without Mr. Freeman, Mr. Graff or any teachers at all
seeing me. I'd explained to Peter my need to be covert
and try to lay low this morning and I guess I found an
area that they were quiet strong in. Deception!
      They showed up just as I was leaving my first two
classes and escorting me on to the next. Surrounded by
Peter and the others no one dared to come near me. Sure,
kids were still saying hi as we walked the halls but
they wouldn't come too close. I'm also sure that the
condition of my eye had started more rumors but I've
not heard any of them yet.
      Surprisingly, with the butterfly bandages and the
obvious condition of my eye, I'd gotten away with wearing
the sunglasses through my first two classes. Both
teachers looked right at me and then looked away without
saying a single word to me. I'd also not been called on
for any questions. I was doing my best to keep a low
profile and it was working. Oh sure, I went with the
flow. I mean, I smiled, but I never put my hand up, I
still took notes, and did whatever was required.
      As the day wore on I became more and more focused on
the meet today and less on school. As I sat in Social
Studies class I didn't hear a word and as I was leaving
English class, Mary Tucker said to me, "Good Luck in the
race!"
      "Thanks, Mary!" I said, missing her beautiful smile
this time.
      I was amazed that she knew I was going to the meet
today.
      Finally my study hall period arrived and I reported
to the library, escorted by my four bodyguards, to begin
my punishment for fighting last week. But it was hopeless
to think I could concentrate on the first report for Mr.
Freeman and I spent the entire period worrying about the
meet.
      I hardly touched my lunch, which didn't bother the
guys as they all helped me clear my tray one stolen bite
after another.
      My morning finally ended and still escorted by my
protectors, I headed for the gym were I put on my gym
clothes followed by the orange jacket. I followed the
group of guys outside and onto the sidewalk; it was
drizzly, which only helped to explain my reason for
wearing the hooded jacket. Most of the guys had pulled
their shirts or jackets up over their heads to fend off
the slight rain.
      "What a gritty gray day!" I heard someone say and
then realized it was me that had said it.
      When the school bus pulled up we piled on and I took
a seat in the middle of the bus. Most of the older kids
piled in the rear seats while the younger and far more
nervous kids sat toward the front of the bus. I was very
relieved when one of the older boys sat down next to me,
turned so that his back was toward me and struck up a
conversation with two boys across the center isle.
      We road all the way into South Side and on the way
there, everybody on the bus were kind of bouncing,
laughing and telling dirty jokes. I couldn't imagine how
they could be so relaxed. I didn't listen to the jokes
and tried to focus on being invisible.
      A few times I dared to look up toward the front of
the bus and would see Jasper sneaking a watchful glance
my way. He looked almost as on edge as I was feeling.
      We got in to South Side and I filed off the bus with
everyone else. It was so ... so miserable, all the
drizzle and grayness. There were about five other buses
all lined up in front of this place they call The Abby
and it was enormous. When we went in, it was like a
factory but it had a low ceiling and filthy black
windows. I could smell all these smells; rubbing alcohol
and oil of wintergreen and I guess sweat. Then I realized
it was cigarette smoke I smelled all over the place. I
looked and they had these stands, just six stands high
for maybe a hundred parents and well a lot of them were
smoking. Even the officials in there white and black
striped shirts were smoking.
      "Why'd they let them smoke?" I asked to no one in
particular.
      They had a quarter mile track; I know this because I
heard one of the other boys say that is what it was. It
was an older track and in the interior of the track there
must have been fifty or sixty athletes, they were all
warming up. Shot putters, broad jumpers and I just stood
there until Frank Smite came over, a seventh-grader on
the Varsity Squad. Not a good runner, but very nice.
      He said, "Come on, you've got to loosen up! Loosen
up, come on, shake your arms."
      He puckered his lips and blew,
"Brubrubrubrrrrrrrrrrruuu!"
      "Was that supposed to do something for you?" I
thought and did it too while pulling my hood down over my
face more.
      "Come on - Come on - Come on - Come on! Loose up,
man! Bend over! Come on, bend over - bend over - bend
over!" Frank said.
      I bent over and touch my toes and I kept thinking,
"Why am I here?"
      I could barely stand up!
      Frank said, "Come on! We'll trot around once,
quarter mile; easy-easy-easy-easy-easy!"
      I started to run with Frank and my hood was bouncing
and dancing on my head. He said, "Now how do you feel?"
      What I wanted to do is say, "Frank, I feel dreadful!
I have a lightness Frank, driving me mad in my arms and
my chest, I think I'm going to black out."
      But what I did say was, "I feel great! I feel really
great, Frank!"
      "Wait a minute, stop!" Frank put a hand up to my arm
and for half a second I thought he had seen my eye but
then he said, "Look at Cody run, look at the stride on
Cody from Roosevelt! They call him Lord Cody! Look at
that!" Frank was enraptured, "He sets a record every time
out; he's in your race!"
      "That's great. That's great Frank; that's great." I
was having trouble getting my breath, "Wait a minute? My
race? How do you know that's my race?" I sounded like I
was panicking because I was.
      I wanted so badly to be here and now that I'm here I
just want to go home. Who was I to think I could ever
complete on the level of all those other boys?
      "Stop!" he grabbed my arm tightly this time. "Look
at that! Melvin Morly, Shawn Preston, Zack Houston - 4/40
- everybody say they could go to the Junior Olympics!"
      Everybody there was a god or an enemy.
      I said, "You go ahead."
      I just couldn't run! Just breathing hurt my chest; I
felt so terrible, so nervous. An hour and an a half of
watching others run, jump, throw and a dozen other events
and all I could do was pace and finally I could hear,
"Fifteen minutes to the mile please - fifteen minutes to
the mile!"
      We had to line up and everyone started getting paper
numbers on their backs. Jasper came over with my number
and I finally had to loose my disguise. I handed him the
glasses and jacket after he pinned the number to the back
of my oversized gym shirt.
      "How do I look?" I asked subconsciously tucking my
shirt into my shorts.
      "Like you are going to barf!" he said.
      "Yeah that would be just about right!" I said.
      "Ten Minutes to the mile please - ten minutes to the
mile!"
      "Five Minutes to the mile please - five minutes to
the mile!"
      Finally we lined up. I got way in the front right
behind Lord Cody; Jasper came and put me way in the back.
I was keeping my head down, my chin buried in my chest
but I hazard a glance over and saw that coach had his
back to me animatedly talking with two other boys; they
were both holding what looked like spears.
      I looked behind me and there was only one kid way in
the back, he was from Medshire, Green and white. I looked
at him; he was a great big kid, maybe six-three with
those wonderful lean muscles and curly black hair.
      He bent way over and put his right hand on his right
knee and his left hand on the right hand. I did the same
thing.
      "I've never run a race before. Have you run many?" I
talked right to him but he didn't pay any attention; he
didn't even turn his head. I just wanted him to look at
me.
      Then we looked up and there was the official. He had
a black and white striped baseball cap and a black and
white striped jacket over his black and white stripped
shirt and black shiny shorts that looked to be about two
sizes too small for him and left almost nothing to the
imagination. I remember talking to myself, "Simon, what
you are doing? Get your mind on the race! The race - yes
the race, the race."
      "Everybody, Everybody okay here we go!" the official
announced through a megaphone. I was so glad he didn't
look right at me.
      "Everybody, Everybody alright-alright!" he announced
again.
      "Now fellows," he continued, "I'm going to give you
two verbal commands! All right? Then the gun!"
      He lifted his right arm. "It's going to be, 'On your
mark'!"
      And then he lifted his left arm. "'Get set!' And
then the gun!"
      "Alright, here we are." He paused for a second.
      "ON YOUR MARK!" his right arm went up.
      "GET SET!" he kept looking around.
      "Why doesn't he shoot the gun?" I remember thinking.
      BANG!
      I started running just as hard as I could possibly
run! I was running hard as I could just to stay up!
Everybody was sprinting and I remember thinking that
maybe I was in the wrong race. Somehow Melvin Morly was
already up around the banked curve and already there were
six guys behind him. I was just trying to keep up to
Melvin, I didn't want to be the last one in this race,
and I didn't want to be all alone.
      I got around the banked curve and started down the
straightaway and I never felt such a pain in my chest it
was so much worse then the night before ever was. I knew
I wasn't breathing properly. I knew I was breathing from
my neck but I couldn't do anything about it! It just hurt
so much and I realized I was going to have to quite; I
was going to have to give up the race right then! I
wasn't going to run even a quarter mile! I thought maybe
if I could get down to the bank turn maybe I could make
just a quarter mile but it hurt so much!
      I just kept thinking, "Get to the bank turn, Get to
the bank turn!"
      Somehow I made it down to the bank turn! I got
around that turn and there were only seventy yards to go
and I would have finished a quarter mile. I was running
and all of a sudden out of nowhere, "Go Simon! Atta-baby!
You can do it Simon! Go for it! Go! Go! Go!"
      It was Jasper shouting from somewhere. I turned and
saw his face, only for a split second and realized, you
see, in a different way his face kind of blurred as sweat
got into my one good eye. It stung and I squinted to try
to see again and all I could really see was elbows-
elbows; Melvin's elbows going back and forth and his
number. I kept going while hearing my name "Simon" and my
name seemed to explode inside of me.
      I made it a quarter mile. There was the official
with the green cap; he stuck three fingers in the air and
did a kind of dance that reminded me of a little kid that
had to go poop. "THREEEEE! THREE LAPS TO GO! THREE LAPS
TO GOOOO!" and I thought he looked right at me but he
didn't seem to react to my deformed and bruised face.
      "Three laps?" I thought to myself.
      It felt like I had been running five hours, "Three
laps to go" I kept repeating to myself. I gasped and
tried to swallow my throat was so dry but there was no
spit in my mouth to swallow. I kept going thinking I will
do a half a mile. I got around the bank turn; as I went
around it I realized what I had been hearing. Everyone
that went around that turn and they made the most
wonderful sound, "Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump-
Thump"
      Everyone had these wonderful white track shoes, low
track shoes and the bottom looked like a pink eraser -
everyone except me. I had size nine old sneakers that
were falling apart, "Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop"
      I felt like such a fool running around that track; I
thought the whole place would be laughing at me. I
started down the straightaway and I had never felt such a
jagged pain right across my whole chest down into my
stomach.
      "OH, THAT SMOKE!" I was so angry that the people
were smoking in here. I looked across and already Melvin
had finished half a mile already. There were six kids
behind him maybe seven kids. And all of a sudden one of
them, he was wearing red from Lexington. He jumped into
the interior; he quit the race.
      "Good for Lexington!" I thought, "If he quit, I
could quit!"
      I got around that bank turn again and I had only
seventy yards to go and there was the coach; he was way
down there waving his arms. This was the sign; the sign
he had told us all to look for if he wanted us to drop
out of a race. His arms went back and forth and I was so
glad to see that! I was going to quit after a half a
mile.
      I got within twenty yards of the half-mile and all
of a sudden Jasper, he was in the interior running along,
"Atta-baby, atta-baby! Come on, Simon, shake those arms
out! Stretch-it, just a little bit, come on you're all
right! Relax, relax - you're alright."
      He ran along maybe thirty yards and I realized I ran
by the quitting place! I was going to keep going now.
      "JASPER!" I was so angry with him!
      I was going to do three-quarters of a mile and all I
could think about was busting through the backdoor of our
home and telling mom and dad that I'd ran three-quarters
of a mile. I went around that bank turn for the third time,
"Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop"
      As I started down the straightaway Melvin was way
ahead but he turned his head and look at me. Just looking
at me encouraged me; I was scaring him! So I ran as hard
as I could, which wasn't very hard, but I closed the gap
just a little.
      We got down to the other bank turn and now, when I
made it around that, there were only seventy yards more to
go and Melvin he wasn't just slowing he was wobbling
badly! I thought he was going to quit and jump into the
interior but suddenly he fell right across the track.
      I was way up high to avoid him but not high enough,
I jumped right over his head and I would have been fine
except I was in the bank turn; I twisted my ankle, came
down on my knee and right down on my face which bounced
right off of the track.
      I heard someone groan and realized it was me. I
stood up, I just stood there and wiped at my face. There
was blood, a lot of blood and I knew my eye had busted
open again. There was blood all over the yellow shirt the
one that coach had given me and I hated myself for
bleeding on it.
      I took a deep breath and was about to take a step
toward the interior and this great big black kid - his
skin was so dark; he was standing there looking at me
holding one of those spears and I remembered it was
called a javelin, he was smiling and looking serious at
the same time. "Hey Sneekers! Don't let that stop you!"
he shouted and pointed down the track as if I'd forgotten
which way I was supposed to be running.
      "No! No, that's not going to stop me!" I heard
myself mumble back to him as I started running again;
seventy more yard and there was like a hundred people in
the stands cheering for me. I felt like a hero - all the
blood all over.
      I felt great, they were cheering like mad and going
crazy. I got within twenty yards of doing three-quarters
of a mile and Melvin blew by me - Woooooooshhhh - four
kids behind him, they were cheering for Melvin, they were
cheering for Melvin and the others, they didn't even see
me; I was invisible. All the times in my life that I have
wished to be invisible and now my wish was coming true?
      Well, I finished three-quarters of a mile; I was
just quitting when someone slammed the big red exit gate
shut; I looked up and for a spit second I saw Jasper's
face.
      "He closed the gate?" I screamed inside my head and
I could feel the rage in the upper part of my back; I
could feel the spot!
      "You're going to finish the race!" I looked over my
left shoulder, sweat was stinking my good eye and blood
was poring from my bad eye. Through the sweat and blood I
saw that Jasper was pacing me again, "You're going to
finish the race!
      I started to stretch my legs and I could hear the
coach from somewhere in the interior shouting, "That's
enough now, that's enough!" and I could hear Jasper, "GO
SIMON BABY-GO-GO-GO!"
      "I'm going to finish the race!" I kept telling
myself.
      I started to stretch my arms and my legs and I could
feel this power from my back. It was spreading down my
torso and I could feel it spreading down my thighs, down
my legs, right into my feet and I could also feel it
right up into my shoulders. My shoulders were so
powerful! I never felt such strength in my whole life.
      I went around that bank turn, I went around it and
now my legs, they felt like horses legs and my arms they
are iron but they were light as wings - I never felt such
a power.
      I started down the straightaway and there was another
voice inside of me, "You've got to slow down. You don't
have the wind. You're only at a practice, it doesn't
really matter."
      "I'm going to finish!" I told the voice, "I'm going
to finish the race!"
      My stride must have been twice the stride and my
breath was coming from way down deep.
      "I'm going to finish the race! I'm going to finish
the race!" I kept saying.
      And I could hear that javelin kid yelling at me from
all the way across the interior, "GO-GO-GO SNEEKERS GO
SNEEKERS GO-GO-GO!" He wasn't even from my school and he
was cheering me on!
      I looked over my shoulder again and he had dropped
his javelin and was running side by side with Jasper.
They were both pacing me now, "GO-GO SNEEKERS!" he
shouted again and Jasper yelled, "GO BABY GO!"
      "I'm going to finish the race!" I said to myself.
      "Ah this power!" I thought.
      I got down to the bank turn and I was thinking, "If
I can just get around it!" but I started to wobble. I
just didn't think I could keep my feet, I didn't have any
more wind, but somehow I made it around the bank turn. I
couldn't hear Jasper or the big black kid anymore. Even
the people in the stands were gone from my ears.
      I looked up and this time everyone in the stands are
standing and applauding and some of them seem to be
looking right at me and waving me on but I couldn't hear
them.
      I knew - I just knew I was going to finish the race!
"I'm going to finish! I'm going to finish! I'm going to
finish!"
      I got within twenty yards of the end and I had no
wind. It was as if my spirit had leapt out of my body and
jumped right over the finish line and was cheering for
me, "COME ON SIMON YOU CAN DO IT! COME ON-COME ON-COME
ON!" and somehow my feet got me over the finish line and
I stopped dead.
      Jasper and the black kid were right beside me now.
One of them touched me, "Get y'r arm off; don't touch
me!" I puffed.
      "No keep moving!" one of them said, I don't know
which.
      "I'm sorry!" Gasp, "I should have" Gasp, "kept
moving!" Gasp. I knew just what he'd meant; I should
never have stopped dead like that. I thought my heart was
going to crash right through my chest.
      The next twenty yards or so Jasper and the javelin
boy were right there with me helping to hold me up, I
trotting as slow as I could. I just couldn't get my
breath and I looked into the interior and there was
Melvin sitting in there, he looked so sad and I went over
to him gasping and panting.
      "Hey Melvin" Gasp, "Thanks" Gasp, "Thanks a lot!"
Gasp.
      I shook his hand and he said, "I shouldn't have run,
I've been sick for two weeks!"
      "Melvin I'm glad you ran," Gasp "I never would have
finished this race!" Gasp, I managed to say, "Thank you
Melvin!" Gasp, Gasp.
      I went over to the side with Jasper and the other
boy to try and get my breath. The big black boy patted my
soaked back and said, "Never seen anything like you!" I
gave him a thankful wave and went trotting off into the
interior again.
      I was bent over, hands on my knees, jasper had a
towel held to my face and I saw these two pristinely
white shoes. I looked up into the face of this incredibly
hansom boy, who took my hand and said, "That was
beautiful! That last quarter was terrific! You can run!"
he shook my hand and added, "I look forward to your next
race!"
      He walked off and I noticed it was Cody, Lord Cody!
"You were good too Cody, you were good too!" I returned
the complement despite the fact that I'd not seen him at
all in the race, he must have been so far ahead of me
that he finished long before I did. Aside from his hair
being a little damp he didn't look tired or winded at
all.
      The coach came over and I turned my head so that I
could see Jasper past the towel which he was still
holding to my face and for a quick second he looked as
panicked as I was feeling. I knew the coach was going to
start chewing us both out but instead he said, "You are
the best natural runner I've ever seen in my life!"
      I don't know where I found the breath to say back to
him, "Thank you coach, I should have stopped after the
half mile. I-I got to go outside and get a little air!"
      I took hold of the towel from Jasper and left the
two of them talking as I staggered over and pushed open
the big grey metal exit door, but I didn't get out because
Frank and my best friend BJ, who I hadn't seen all last
week at school were coming over to me.
      BJ came up to me and gave me a jab and the freckles
exploded off his face, "Beautiful-man, that race was
beautiful, with them sneakers, too!"
      "Tremendous!" Frank added.
      "Thanks guys!" I said, "I got to get some air!"
      I went outside and I couldn't believe it that BJ was
there. I wondered to myself how he knew I was going to be
running today since I'd not told him. I was out in the
parking lot, the drizzle was still coming down and I was
so glad. And I could smell, smells; and I could actually
hear the rain falling, not the sound that it makes when
it hits the ground, anyone can hear that. No I was
hearing the rain while it was falling, it kind of
whistled as it fell. Everything was so sharp! I felt so
wonderful!
      I had my arms way out allowing more of the drizzle
to hit and cool me. The only thing that could have made
it better was if the sun would just peek out from behind
a cloud even if only for a couple seconds, but it was
still so gray and I loved it, I was just so hot; I needed
the drizzle. I just stood there, arms reaching to the
heavens; oh it was so cooling inside and out.
      I knelt down and thought about all the guys that
before the race I'd thought of them as enemies but they
were just guys - just other guys and they were all great!
      I couldn't wait to get home and tell mom and dad! I
got up and went back in just in time to see the big black
kid again. "Hey, thanks so much for what you did!" I said
to him.
      "You were amazing! It was great to see you run!" he
said and shook my hand. I wish I'd had the sense to ask
him his name. I didn't even notice what colors he was
wearing so I didn't know what school he was with, but it
didn't matter really. We were not all enemies today; we
were all here to do what we all do best! I felt so good,
I felt so alive!
      Coach found me and sent me over to get my eye taken
care of. It had stopped bleeding again and my shirt and
shorts looked like a crime scene, but I really didn't care
right then.
      On the bus ride back I didn't have to wear the
orange jacket with the hood and the glasses. Almost every
kid came up to me, "Hey, man-that last quarter; Whoa!
Beautiful!"
      I've never felt so at ease and happy in my life!
Everybody was laughing and carrying on. We got back to
the school and everyone filed into the gymnasium and down
into the locker room to shower and change. I went and
took a cold shower. I didn't even turn on the hot water.
I just let it pour down over my face; a lot of other boys
were doing the same thing. The water felt so incredible
and only furthered my electrified energy levels.
      I got back into my school uniform which seemed kind
of silly since there was only ten minutes left in the
school day. Most of the boys were not tying their ties so
I didn't tie mine, either; I just let it hang around my
neck. I still can't believe we had only been gone a few
hours; it seemed like so much longer!
      On my way out of the gym I heard someone calling my
name; it was Jasper. He walked out of the gym and down to
my locker with me. All the way there, other boys were
shouting and cheering at me in the halls. Despite the
pain I was feeling in my eye now, I couldn't help but to
smile.
      On the way out the door we ran into Peter and the
others. Jasper surprised me and didn't freeze up like he
usually does, but then I realized it was because Bull's
car was sitting out in front with Bull, Runt, Tater and
two other huge brutes in it.
      Jasper turned to me, "Wanna ride?" he asked.
      "Nah, I got my bike but call me later?" I said.
      He smiled, slung his book bag over his shoulder and
said, "Will do!" before running off to the car.
      I waved at the guys and I guessed that Jasper told
them I was going to ride my bike with Peter's gang. Tater
stuck his fist out the window and gave me the thumbs up
sign, I returned it, he smiled, waved and the car sped
away.
      It was still drizzling out, but I didn't care. Peter
and all three of the other guys all looked sort of
weirded out by the close encounter with the Panthers. I
just thought it was funny and told them so.
      "How's the eye?" Steven asked about half way to my
house.
      "Oh it's cool!" I lied. It was starting to throb
again, but I wasn't really allowing it to bother me too
much.
      "How the meet go?" Peter asked.
      "Great - I ran the mile!" I beamed.
      When we were about to turn onto my street Johnny,
Steven and Max said their goodbyes, as they didn't want
to have to walk their bikes up my hill. Peter on the
other hand continued up with me.
      Once the other three had road off he spoke up,
"Simon? Can I ask you something?"
      "What?" I answered not realizing how serious Peter
was trying to be.
      "You been hanging out with Mike right?" he asked
sort of quiet like. I stopped pushing my bike and turned
around to face him. His hair was all matted down from the
drizzle that was beginning to turn to a light rain. He
had a look in his eyes that I'd never in a million years
had expected to see from him. He looked heartbroken.
      "Yeah, why?" I asked.
      "Well, he and I been friends for a long time but,
ever since, well last week he won't even talk to me!" he
said and I could have sworn I heard his voice give a
little.
      I shifted my weight from one foot to the other
before saying to him, "Let's think about that? Mikes
brother is Tater who is not only friends with but also
teammates with the guy who's little brother you were
trying to beat up! I can't imagine why he might not want
to be your friend anymore!" I said mockingly.
      It was a bad thing that it was raining because I
couldn't tell if Peter was crying but his eyes sure
looked like it to me and I think that was when it dawned
on me that we were having a real moment here and for the
first time I was seeing past the tough guy and right into
the core of the real boy!
      "You want to come over for a while? At least until
the rain lets up some?" I asked and I think he might have
smiled.
      I parked my bike in the garage and helped him put
his on the back porch out of dad's way when he got home,
which would be any second really. We stepped into the
backdoor and mom was right there, she must have seen us
both coming and was ready for us.
      "Stop right there, the both of you!" we both stopped
just inside the door. I'm sure it was another one of
those Kodak moments to see big Peter and little me
standing there nearly drenched to the bone.
      "Mom I ran the Mile today!" I shouted completely
ignoring her command.
      She gave me a puzzled look, "I ran the mile - at the
try-outs meet!" I said, trying to jog her memory.
      "Your coach let you run with your eye ..." she
stopped when she saw how swollen it was again and she
looked at Peter. I didn't get it right away but she was
thinking that Peter had hit me.
      Peter had both hands up in front of him, "No Way!
Not me!" he said and that was when I got it.
      I laughed! "No mom! I fell in my third lap. It was
bad but there was a medic there at the meet and he fixed
me right up."
      She was looking very concerned still.
      "It looks worse then it feels mom! Really!"
      "Were you there?" she asked Peter.
      "No Mrs. Leonard, I was in school." I looked over at
Peter totally astonished at what he'd just said. Well,
not what he said, but how he said it. He sounded so polite
and well, not like Peter at all!
      I think his politeness shocked mom too, because she
seemed to change her tune, "Well, you need to go find
someplace to sit down, I will bring you some ice and your
ointment."
      I started to move but she put out a hand as if to
tell us not to move, "You boys can't go tromping through
my house with those wet clothes on!"
      She held out two towels to us and said, "Strip!" to
which Peters' facial reaction was identical to mine.
      "I'll put your clothes in the dryer Peter, in the
mean time you boys can wait in Simon's room." Mom said.
      I looked over at Peter who was in the process of
changing from a deep brick red to a nice shade of plum.
He got the goofiest look on his face and I had to elbow
him in the ribs or I was sure he was going to pass out.
      "It's just my mom!" I said to him, which only seemed
to increase his embarrassment.
      "Oh, for the love of Pete!" Mom said and I busted
out laughing. Peter was looking at my mom like he was
about to die of embarrassment. It was painful for me to
look at Peter standing there because it just made me
laugh more.
      "Leave your clothes there by the door, cover
yourselves with the towel and then you can go to Simon's
room to wait!" she said smiling at Peter's obvious
discomfort with the idea of undressing in front of my
mom.
      Peter somehow found his voice and said, "I-I better
get home!" his voice was cracking and popping all over
the place.
      Right on cue as if I had my own special effects
technician on staff there was a flash behind us and then
came a huge clap of thunder. I let out a squeal and all
three of us jumped. I'd turned to look outside and caught
a glimpse of Peter who had, that quickly, gone from plum-
red with embarrassment to as white as a sheet with fear.
He too had turned toward the sliding door but had backed
right up to my mom.
      "You alright?" Mom asked him.
      "I-I-I d-d-don't l-like th-thunder!" he was shaking
and stuttering worse then I used to do when I was
younger. He had a death grip hold on the towel with both
hands and was holding it tightly to his chest sort of
like it was a shield that was going to protect him from
the thunder.
      Around here, during the end of February, it is not
uncommon for it to snow one day, be sunny the next and
then rain the next and it's even been known to do all
three in the same day, but it's not common for us to have
a thunder and lightning storm. Those don't usually start
until the end of spring and beginning of summer.
      I turned back around as mom said, "Well, that
settles it; I'm not sending you out in this sort of
weather. You'll just have to stay here until it stops or
I'll have Simon's father drive you home."
      And with that she left us standing there dripping
onto the tile floor. I gave Peter a nudge and he started
to take off his coat, but he had his eye plastered on the
rain outside the door. I was down to my socks and
underwear before he had his shirt unbuttoned. I stripped
all the way down to my underwear and eventually he did,
too.
      We both wrapped the towels around ourselves; I only
did it to make him feel more at ease, I mean it's nothing
for me to run around the house in a wet Goodnite, having
on wet underwear isn't much more of a leap for me.
      We left everything lying there on the tile floor and
I said, "You want to call your parent first?"
      "Nah, they won't care!" he said looking down at me.
      "Okay!" I said letting the subject drop.
      We picked up our bags and he followed me to my room
where I closed my door for his comfort. He looked as
though he felt very out of place and uncomfortable. I
pulled out my desk chair and said, "Have a seat."
      That was when I noticed my computer was back, and so
was my radio! I'd not noticed them this morning but now
that I see them I realize that dad must have brought them
back in last night after he had carried me in from the
van and had put me to bed.
      Peter walked over slowly gazing around my room, "Man
Simon you are seriously hooked up here!" he said.
      "Huh?" I said.
      "Your room! It's really bang'n!" he added.
      "Oh ah thanks!" I said and then thought to myself,
"bang'n?"
      I started for my closet, "I might have a pair of
sweat pants that will fit you." I slid open my closet
door and found the light blue sweat pants hanging almost
all the way to the back.
      "Here ya go! I hardly wear 'em." I thought about
adding, "because I usually wear underwear or just a
Goodnite around the house." but I chose to keep that last
part to myself.
      With none of his hesitation or embarrassment from
earlier he stood up, let the towel drop to the floor and
pulled off his underwear. I was astonished to see that
despite his large upper frame and being older then me,
his penis, though completely soft and dangling free, was
not much larger then my own. However, he did have a very
ample amount of pubic hair and his legs were also covered
in a fine dark layer of hair.
      Not wanting to be caught looking at his package, I
turned back into the closet to get myself something to
wear. I pulled out my cargos again - after all they are
my favorite pants! I kept my back to him as I dropped my
towel and underwear and stepped into my pants. It felt
funny wearing them without any underwear but it also felt
kind of sexy, too.
      When I turned back around Peter had put on the light
blue sweat pants, but it was ridiculously obvious that
they were only just fitting him. They looked more like
someone had just painted him light blue from the waist
down to just below the half way point of his calves. I
know I shouldn't have, but I just couldn't help but to
start laughing, "Oh yeah, you look smashing!"
      To my immense relief he looked up at me and smiled,
"Bit on the snug side don't ya think?"
      "Just a bit!" I laughed.
      "I wouldn't try bending or doing any calisthenics in
those," I added.
      "Yeah, I'm liable to come out all over the place!"
he said rubbing his hands on his thighs.
      He had a bit of a roll for a tummy which was nicely
accentuated by my sweatpants but I've no room to pick on
others physical appearance give the fact that I currently
look like Quasimodo's long lost brother.
      There was a knock at my door and when I opened it,
it was mom with the cream and fresh bandages for my eye.
She stepped into my room and looked to Peter, I looked,
too, and he had quickly sat himself down on the chair and
had the towel over his lap. His cheeks and ears were
turning red again and mom was keen to not torture him
anymore then he already was himself.
      I sat down on the corner of Jamie's bed holding the
little bag of ice mom had just handed me while she removed
the now wet bandage the medic had applied at the meet. She
softly wiped my eye with a cool cloth before applying the
cream, which made me squeal and made Peter say, "Oh man
that stuff reeks!"
      "You should be the one wearing it!" I grumbled and
had to hold my breath to keep from blowing chunks.
      Mom was finishing up by putting on fresh butterfly
bandages when she asked, "So how did you do it this
time?"
      "I had to jump over another runner that had fallen
and when I came down I turned my ankle and fell on my
face." I said.
      As I was telling mom I heard Peter suck in air and
say, "Oooh! That must have hurt!"
      "You know, now that I think about it, it really
didn't hurt as much as I thought it should" I said
putting the ice on my eye.
      "You must have been too pumped up to feel it! I
mean, just look at your ankle!" Peter said. And I looked
down at my left ankle to see that it was a little swollen.
However, what Peter had been pointing to was the
decolonization. It had turned a sort of greenish yellow
color right under my anklebone.
      "Well, that doesn't look so good." I said looking
back up to Peter who was grimacing at my ankle.
      "Uhoh!" mom said, "I'll get some ice for that, too!
That's going to hurt come tomorrow!"
      When mom left I looked over at Peter who was busying
himself with making sure his towel covered as much of his
lap as possible without being so flat that it too showed
certain aspects of his body.
      "Peter, can I tell you something?" I said kind of
quietly since mom had left my door open.
      He looked up from his towel, "Yeah, sure!"
      "This is a complement but it might not sound like it
at first." I said and he screwed up his face in
anticipation.
      "At school and out in public you can be a real
jerk!" I said.
      "Uh, Thanks?" Peter said mockingly.
      "Now wait for it!" I said with a smile, "But really,
I mean like right now and the way you are so nice to my
mom, you can really be a nice guy."
      I was so very relieved to see him smile and blush a
little again. I thought he might be about to say
something when mom came back in with the ice for my foot.
I got up off of Jamie's bed and went over to my bed where
I settled myself so that my back was against the wall and
my feet were just on the bed from the side. Mom set the
ice on my ankle and then as I was putting the ice back up
to my eye she asked, "Would you boys like something to
eat?"
      "Yeah!" I said realizing that I was quite hungry.
      "I have some peach cobbler made fresh today!" mom
said to Peter in a tempting way.
      Peters eyes got really big, "That's my all time
favorite!" and he smiled bigger then I'd ever seen him
smile.
      "Okay, I'll get you both some and put it on the
kitchen table. Come get it when you are ready." Mom said
and then out of seemingly no-where she produced one of
dad's t-shirts.
      "Here you go dear, you can wear this." She said
handing the shirt to Peter who was still smiling.
      Mom left us alone again and Peter, holding the shirt
in his lap, looked at me and said, "You know ..." he
paused for a moment, "you've got a really nice mom!"
      He took a breath, looked back down at the shirt and
continued, "What you said before about ..." he shot me
a glance and I added, "Yeah right!"
      "Well?" he said and I expected him to continue but
he didn't. He just kept looking at the shirt lying there
on the towel covering his lap.
      Ten thousand questions were popping up in my mind
and each one I rejected. After a minute or two of silence
between us I said, "You ready for some cobbler?"
      His eyes widened again and that smile returned,
"I've not had peach cobbler since I was like 8 years
old!"
      He stood up and tossed the towel at me as he slipped
the t-shirt over his head. Mom was right, it did fit him,
as a matter of face it was good and long on him, which
helped to cover his private parts when he stood up. I
could tell he was very relieved.
      I took the ice from my ankle and my eye and set both
bags on my desk. I dropped both towels into the hamper
and rummaged one of my t-shirts out of my dresser for
myself before leading him back to the kitchen.
      True to her word, there on the table were two bowels
of peach cobbler, a smaller bowl of sugar and a little
pitcher of cream as well.
      Peter took the seat with his back to the sliding
door. As he did this I was thinking he wanted to keep his
back to the storm just in case but there wasn't anymore
lightning or thunder the rest of the evening but it was
still raining and was unusually dark for the time of
afternoon.
      We sat and talked while we ate. I learned that Peter
used to have an older brother but he died from an
allergic reaction to bee stings. I also learned that
Peter likes to read but not just anything. He's a serious
Hardy-boy's mystery junky. Though he swore me to secrecy
on that one under threat of death should I ever tell a
living soul. I'd even asked if Mike knew about it and he
said aside from the librarian here in town and myself not
another person knows.
      Peter asked me a question that I think bares
recording here. He asked me, "When you fought Me, Steven,
Max and Johnny you didn't so much as get a scratch on
you, how come your younger brother was able to do that to
your face?"
      I managed to laugh at his question and went on to
tell him how it'd happened and how I'd gone to apologize
and had found that he was in much worse shape then I'd
thought when he'd left with his mom.
      "Having fought you along with three others on my
side, I'm surprised your brother's still alive," he said
jokingly.
      After that our conversation turned back to stuff
that seemed important at the time, but in the grand scheme
of things it was probably pretty dumb. We talked about
who would win in a fight, The Rock from WWE wrestling or
Mike Tyson. We both said Mike Tyson.
      We also wondered about who was better looking,
Britney Spears or Janette Jackson. We disagreed on this
one; I said Janette and Peter said that Britney made his
nose hairs twitch, which sent the two of us into
hysterical laughter.
      As we were finishing up out cobbler dad finally
arrived home. He was looking a little bit rattled too.
      "Hi Dad, this is ..." I didn't have to finish.
      "Peter!" Dad said and nodded to him as he stripped
off his raincoat.
      "You boys get wet coming home?" dad asked.
      "Just a little Sir." Peter answered before I could.
      The Sir part caught dad's attention for half a
second as he first glanced at Peter and then at me before
giving a reassuring smile.
      "There's a tree down over on Main and it fell on
someone's parked car. Had traffic all backed up." Mom came
walking around the corner from the dinning room as dad was
telling us this.
      "No one was hurt I hope?" she asked.
      "I don't think so; but I gave up trying to come home
that way and was able to get turned around. I ended up
having to come in past their school." He said looking at
mom but pointing to us.
      Dad handed his raincoat and umbrella to mom, leaned
forward and gave her a peck on the lips before leaning
against the door to get ready to take off his shoes. Just
then the front door bell rang.
      "Can you be a dear and get that, Simon?" Mom said to
me.
      "Yeah sure!" I said, but when I tried to get up my
ankle gave out and I fell back into my chair with a thud
and a whimper.
      "OH!" I groaned and ducked under the table to grab
my ankle, "OH my ankle!" I moaned.
      "See, I told ya!" Mom said handing dad back his wet
things and going to get the door.
      "What's wrong with your ankle?" dad asked.
      I still had my head under the table and was holding
my ankle so Peter answered for me.
      "He twisted it in the race today!" Peter said.
      "Oh was that today?" Dad asked sounding disappointed.
"Simon, you should have reminded me, I would have taken
the afternoon off to come see you run!"
      I had my foot up on my other leg and came out from
under the table but was still clutching at my ankle. "But
it wasn't hurting until just now!" I complained more to
my foot then to dad.
      "Well ankles will do that! I remember when I
sprained mine back in college. I walked on it for an
entire day before it swelled up on me." Dad said finally
managing to get both his shoes off while holding his
raincoat and umbrella.
      "So how did you do?" Dad asked.
      "Dad! You won't believe this but I finished the
mile! I actually ran a mile!" I nearly shouted.
      Just then mom came back into the kitchen followed by
two police officers. One was the now familiar Amazon
woman officer and the other was one of the other male
officers I'd not seen since being introduced to them last
week.
      "Oh hi there!" I said with surprise, however the
looks on their faces were not very warm or welcoming.
      The Amazonian asked, "What happen to this boy?" like
I was an inanimate object someone had broke.
      She was talking directly to Peter and she looked to
be growing larger buy the second. I looked over to Peter
and he appeared as though someone had just turned him
into stone. His eyes were about the size of dinner
plates, his mouth was hanging all the way open and he was
so white that snow would have been jealous of him. His
eyes were locked on the lady officer and there was no
chance he was going to be able to speak anytime soon.
      "Actually his little brother gave it to him
originally." Mom said.
      "Mom!" I complained and looked to the two officers
who still didn't look happy.
      "He's not that much littler then me! And it was a
lucky punch!" I said being sure to leave out my part in
the fight.
      The man of stone sitting across from me finally spoke
but still managed to stay nearly completely motionless.
He spoke very monotone and with absolutely no life at
all, "He fell in the race today."
      Dad finally laughed and started talking. After a few
minutes dad had everything smoothed over, he had both
officers laughing too and I got to recount the entire
race, moment by exciting moment for all five of them.
Even mom managed to talk them both into taking some peach
cobber with them when they left.
      They had only stopped by to check on me, to see that
Peter and his friends were behaving themselves and not
trying to muscle me around. I told them that Peter and
they guys had been totally trouble free the whole time!
It wasn't until they left that Peter started to get some
color back in his face again. But he remained very quiet
and edgy. That woman really rattled him and I tried to
talk him down but he was really wound up tight.
      It wasn't until mom and dad had left us alone in the
kitchen that Peter finally looked at me with dreadfulness
all in his face.
      "What?" I asked concernedly.
      "I-I had an accident." He said and I didn't
understand him as he said it so softly.
      "What?" I asked again.
      "I had an accident!" he repeated softly but
forcefully.
      I was honestly shocked, I mean totally and
completely shocked. I'm sure I probably sat there with my
mouth open in disbelief for what must have seemed like an
eternity to poor Peter. Finally breaking out of my callus
state, I ducked my head under the table and got a
remarkable view of my light blue sweatpants on him with
the most obvious wet spot in the crotch and running all
the way down his left leg. I came back up and Peter was
looking over my head into space.
      I knew he was in a very dangerously fragile state
right now and there are countless numbers of kids at
school that would give everything they own to be sitting
in my place at that moment. I still don't know why I
didn't seize the opportunity when it presented itself -
no instead I put on my shining armor, mounted my gleaming
white horse and rode to his rescue! Gawd, I am such a
sap!
      "Okay, don't move!" I said to him and he continued
to look over my head unable to even make eye contact with
me.
      I managed to get myself up from the table, though I
had to lean on the table to keep the weight mostly off my
sore ankle. I made sure mom and dad were not looking and
hobbled back to my room were I retrieved the two towels
I'd deposited into my hamper. I hobbled back to the
kitchen and sat back in my same chair with the two towels
in my lap.
      Peter was finally looking at me again and he really
looked to be just this side of loosing it. He looked like
a little lost puppy with those big sad eyes. I find it
very funny writing about it, but at the time, I think I
was a little scared for him too. I let one of the towels
drop to the floor and moved it over to him with my one
foot. Without being told he took the towel with his feet
and moved it around on the floor and around his chair to
clean up any pee that had got on the floor.
      He somehow managed to get the towel from the floor
up to his right hand without bending over at all. I've no
idea how he did this since I didn't have my X-Ray Vision
Glasses on at the time to be able to see through the
table. He passed the towel under the table to his left
hand and then over to my lap. I looked at him like, "I
don't want your pee on me!" but I didn't say anything.
      I passed him the other towel and said, "Just hold it
in front of you, I'll walk behind you back to my room and
no one should ever know!"
      We both got up from the table and I moved around
behind him. My ankle was really starting to smart and I
had to almost hop on one foot to get back to my room.
Going down the hall I'd got a good look at the back of
him and he was completely soaked. Those two cops must
have scared him so bad that he just lost control of his
bladder. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd had that
problem back in the principles office the other day but
there was no way I was going to ask him.
      I closed and locked my door and Peter deposited
himself back into my desk chair. I was glad it is made of
wood; there was no risk of him staining or making it
smell of pee.
      He had his head hanging down as if he were trying to
hide himself from me. "Every place I go I keep running
into them." He said solemnly.
      "I went into the bathroom at Burger King day before
yesterday and when I came out one of them was standing by
the door." He continued.
      I dropped the towel we'd used to wipe up the pee
into the hamper and settled myself on my bed. Without
being asked he reached behind himself and handed me the
bag of ice that was partially melted, which actually
helped it to mold around my ankle.
      He continued talking almost like I wasn't there,
"You ever wish you could go back in time and redo stuff?"
      I wasn't sure if he was actually asking me a
question that he wanted me to answer or if he was just
talking. With almost no movement of his head he looked my
way and I quietly said, "Yeah, lots of times."
      He repositioned the towel on his lap inattentively
while we both sat in silence. After a while mom knocked
on my door again; despite my ankle I got up and answered
it. Without coming into the room she handed me Peters'
clothes and said, "Your father has put Peters bicycle
into the van and is going to take Peter home whenever
he's ready. Just let your father know, okay?" I nodded as
she left and I closed and relocked the door again.
      Peter stood up and set the towel on the chair behind
him and walked over to take his clothes from me. He
surprised me by sliding one arm under mine and helped me
back to my bed where he set the ice bag back on my ankle.
      An hour ago, I'd had this image of Peter in my head
but now, that image was being challenged. He wasn't this
big mean ogre that everyone's scared of and that enjoyed
making others lives miserable. Sure he did all that, but
inside I think it was his way of protecting himself.
      Once I was resting on my bed again he went over,
laid his clothes on Jamie's bed and from outside the
window there was a flash of light, but no thunder
followed. Peter had seen it too and had tensed up waiting
for the crash that never came. He pulled off dad's t-
shirt which had gotten wet in the back along to bottom
seam were he'd been sitting on it. His bottom was
completely soaked all the way down the left inside of the
leg. There was another flash and he tensed up again but
still there was no thunder. In the back of my mind I was
thinking that it must be so far away that we can't hear
the thunder. He kept his back to me as he pulled off the
sweatpants, walked over and dropped them both into my
hamper.
      I almost felt like I was the single member of an
audience privileged to watch this boy on the cusp of
manhood perform. He looked so crestfallen and fragile as
he turned back to the bed giving me a perfect frontal
view of his nude self. He was a little pudgy but his legs
seemed too thin for the rest of his body and his butt was
nearly non-excitant. At the time, it didn't occur to me
to look away, I sat staring, maybe more then staring at
him as he redressed himself before me. It didn't seem to
bother him in the least that I was mesmerized. As he was
buttoning his pants I heard him say in an almost
inaudible whisper, "Clothes right out of the dryer feel
almost like hugs."
      "Wow, that's kind of poetic." I said back to him and
he looked up at me for the first time since he started
getting dressed.
      "What does?" he said not realizing I'd heard him.
      "You're right, they do feel almost like hugs! Kind
of warm all over!" I added.
      He didn't smile or say anything in response but
sucked in his tummy and zipped up his pants before
reaching for his shirt.
      The ice was making my foot very cold and as I tried
to reposition myself so that I could reach the ice
something caught my eye outside the window. I looked and
to my horror there covered with a green raincoat was the
head of Jasper looking in through my window. My eyes
nearly fell out of my head and I choked on my own spit. I
coughed and looked back to the window but he was gone.
      "You okay?" Peter asked.
      "Uh? What? Yeah, I'm fine!" I said a little too
enthusiastically.
      He gave me a quizzical stare before sitting down on
Jamie's bed to put on his socks. My cough had broken the
mood and before my eyes I saw Peter returning to his old
self.
      With both socks on he stood up, dropped both shoes
on the floor and stepped into them without untying them
as if they were slip on shoes. He stuffed his tie and his
wet underwear into his book bag and slung it over his
shoulder. He took two steps and was standing at my feet
looking down at me. I couldn't tell which Peter I was
facing. Part of him looked like the Peter I've known and
feared for years and part of him looked like the boy I'd
seen sitting at the kitchen table after having peed
himself out of fear.
      He bent down as though he were going to reposition
the ice for me. but instead took hold of my ankle. Now I'd
like to be able to say that after seeing the gentle and
fragile side of Peter this afternoon changed the way I
felt about him. I'd like to be able to say that I'm not
frightened of Peter anymore. But that wouldn't be true. I
think fear can become a habit. And I've been afraid of
Peter for so long, it has become as natural to me as
wetting my bed. And no matter how brave I try to make
myself seem around him, when it comes down to the truth,
Peter is still the ultimate bully-at least for me.
      So with him grasping my ankle and me gripping my
blanket tightly in both hands on either side of my bottom
he said, "What happened today was private. Just between
the two of us. Understand?" He gave my ankle a squeeze,
which really wasn't necessary because I did understand.
It isn't a threat of the old sort-the one where the lump
would have been in my throat. But it is, nevertheless, a
threat, a statement about the fragility of our new
relationship. The first test of the new status quo will
come tomorrow, I'm sure of it!
      He turned toward the door and I glanced back to the
window, sure enough Jasper's face had returned but it was
nestled down in the far corner of the pane.
      I looked back to Peter who had just unlocked the
door and had his hand on the knob. He stopped, turned his
head and said calmly, "For what it's worth; Thanks!" and
opening the door he walked out of my room.
      A minute later mom was standing in the doorway. "You
okay?" she asked and in those two words I know she was
asking a whole lot more. With a secretive glance at the
window, acting as thought I was looking at my ankle, I
saw that Jasper was gone. "I'm good!" I said.
      "Okay! Your father's just leaving with Peter and
dinner will be ready when he gets back." She said.
      "Okay!" I added as she left.
      I waited a couple minutes until I heard the clanging
of pans from the kitchen before I moved toward the
window, letting the bag of ice drop on the floor. I slid
it open and stuck my head out but Jasper was nowhere to
be seen. I even wondered if I'd actually seen him or if
he was just something my imagination had conjured up.
      After closing my window I went to my desk to get my
notebook to begin writing about my day, the race and
what'd just occurred here with Peter. However, there
laying in the drawer under my notebook was the red binder
Tater had given me. Until that very second I'd completely
forgot about doing exercises here at home. With a
disgusted look at my ankle I closed the drawer again and
hopped over to my bed to write.
      I've no idea how long I had been sitting on my bed
lost in my writing. It wasn't until dad touched the
bottom of my foot that I even knew he had come into my
room. My body gave a jolt at the sudden snap back to the
present reality.
      "You were really lost there, weren't you?" dad said
with a smile as he picked up the bag of now mostly
melted ice and set it on my desk next to the other.
      "Oh sorry dad! Yeah I was writing!" I said closing
my notebook and slid the pencil into the spiral binding
that held all the pages together.
      "I called your name twice and you didn't even hear
me." he said, sitting down on the foot of Jamie's bed.
      "Sorry" I said with a smile.
      "You had a really good day over all then?" dad
asked.
      "Yeah, I really still can't believe how great it was
to finish the race dad!"
      "I'm glad for you and I am sorry I missed it!" he
said and then added, "How's the ankle?"
      "You know that's really weird. I mean, it was fine
after the race, fine on the bus back to school, and fine
all the way home. I didn't even give it a second thought
until Peter pointed it out to me." I said.
      Dad got up, came over and gently took hold of my
ankle. It might be sore tomorrow, and maybe even bruised
but I don't think you will have too much problem walking
on it. You might not be doing any running for a while but
I'm sure you will live to run again!" he said and then
pointed to my eye, "That okay?" he asked.
      Like always when someone drew attention to my eye,
my hand instinctively went to it. "Yeah, it's okay too! I
can't see out of it at all right now but it's not hurting
too much really! Mom doctored it all up when I got home."
I said.
      "Yeah I can still smell that cream." Dad said.
      "Dad?" I started to ask a question.
      "Yeah?" he answered.
      "You and Peter talk about anything on the way to his
house?" I asked.
      He paused as he softly laid my foot back on the bed.
He stood up straight and went over to my window; I could
tell there was something bothering him but I didn't know
what. He ran his finger around the pain of glass. "I'm
going to have to reglaze the windows this summer. It's
starting to crack and could let air in." he wiped his
finger on his pants as he turned back around to me.
      "I'm not so sure we made the right decision the
other day." Dad said and I had no idea what he was
talking about. I gave him my questioning look and he
continued.
      "I guess I am just saying that you need to be
careful with how close you get with Peter and his
friends." Dad finally said.
      Mom called from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready!"
      I scooted my butt over to the end of my bed. "I am."
I said to dad.
      He smiled and said, "You want a ride to dinner?"
      "Yeah!" I smiled back.
      He squatted down in front of me and allowed me to
climb onto his back. He reached around and locked his arms
under my knees and off we went to the kitchen for dinner.
      Mom had made Sloppy-Joe's for us and I made them
live up to there name. Before I was finished, I was eating
them with a fork cause I'd been so sloppy with mine.
Toward the end of dinner I asked, "Can I call Jamie to
see how he is?"
      I could tell this was not a question either of them
had expected. They looked at each other and dad
swallowed his mouthful of food. "I don't think that is a
good idea ,Simon," Dad said.
      "Why not?" I asked.
      "Because the last time I talked with his mother she
was not very pleasant a person." Dad added.
      "So she didn't call yesterday?" I asked and
immediately knew I'd over played my cards, "I mean I
heard you talk to her on the phone Saturday but I didn't
hear you at all yesterday so I was thinking ..." I
trailed off there at the end, I knew it was a futile
attempt to try to dig myself back out of the whole I'd
mistakenly leaped into but it seemed to work.
      Dad took a drink of his water while mom was sitting
just looking at me. I tried not to make eye contact with
either of them.
      "I just want to make sure he's okay, and I would
like to tell him about the race today." I added.
      "You can try but don't be surprised if she yells or
even hangs up on you." Dad said popping his last bite
into his mouth.
      Now I've known for a while now that mom has a way of
knowing about things that I think are completely secret
so I was really trying not to look at her while I
finished my dinner and gulped down my milk. Mom made me
go wash my face and hands when I had finished before she
would let me call Jamie.
      The phone rang three times before Jamie finally
answered.
      "Hi Jamie! How are you?" I asked without saying who
I was.
      "Oh hi Simon! I'm feeling loads better!" Jamie
still sounded a bit stuffy nosed, but not near as bad as
he had.
      "How's the eye?" he asked.
      "You won't believe this, but I busted it open again
today." I said and then went on to describe the whole
race in detail for him. He was a good listener and
inserted several "Oh's" and "Wow's" in all the right
places. We talked for nearly twenty minutes-to mom's
complete astonishment-before we said goodbye.
      No sooner had I hung up the phone and it rang again.
Since I was right there I picked it up, "Hello?"
      "Simon?" it was Mike.
      "MIKEY!" I shouted into the phone.
      "Hi Simon, man I been trying to call you for like
fifteen minutes!" Mike complained.
      "Oh yeah, that's cause I was on the phone with my
brother telling him about the race today! Hey, I didn't
see you in school this morning." I added suddenly
realizing that fact.
      "I was there!" Mike said.
      "Huh, well let me tell you about the race today!"
and I again recounted the details for Mike who was just
as good an audience as Jamie had been. Before I got off
the phone with him we made plans to get together after
school tomorrow. He said he had something he wanted to
show me in his room. I figure it's a new model or
something like that, knowing him.
      After I'd hung up with Mike I was about to retreat
to my room but then I thought about Jasper and decided to
call him. I had to look up his number in the book and the
phone only rang once before their mom answered.
      "Oh hi Mrs. Hawkins, this is Simon Leonard. Is
Jasper home?" I asked.
      "Oh I'm sorry Simon. He went over to his little
friends to play. He should be home in an hour or so,
would you like me to tell him you called?" she sounded a
lot like Mike's mom with that same sweet sing-song voice.
      "Yeah and thank you!" I said and added, "Bye."
      For about ten full seconds I thought about trying to
call Peter just to make sure he was okay, but then I
thought about what he'd said while holding my ankle and
what dad had said about him. So I changed my mind and
hobbled off to my room to do my homework.
      It didn't take me too long to get my homework done.
I guess that's the benefit of only going to my morning
classes. I'm sure I'll get extra to do tomorrow. When I
was done with my homework and had skimmed through yet
another chapter of that darn boring book, I decided that
I'd try and do some online surfing. I hobbled over to my
bedroom door and stuck my head out.
      "Mom, Dad is it okay if I get online for a while?" I
shouted down the hallway.
      Dad called back, "Yes, it's okay!"
      Now the rule in our house is, that when I'm online I
have to keep my door to my room open. I guess it's my
parents' way of feeling like I'm not going to go places
online that I'm not supposed to go if my door is open.
They almost never bother me when I'm online or come and
check up on me so I don't worry too much. Also the way my
computer sits on my desk I can see out of the corner of
my eye if they come into the room and I can usually hear
them coming down the hall, too.
      I popped online and started to check my email. Most
of it was junk mail but I did have one from someone named
StrikerAce. I opened it and was overjoyed to find that it
was an email from Jasper. I've no idea how he got my
email address. In it he said he would be coming over in a
little while, I looked at the time stamp at sure enough
that was just a little before dinnertime. That would have
been just about right. Now I know I saw him in the window
and I wondered if he had been standing on Lowell. If so I
felt sorry for Lowell having to kneel down in the mud and
rain.
      I also had an email from my dad that contained a
joke he'd sent me from his work. Dad does that sometimes
when he gets a good clean joke. One time I sent him a
joke that was just a little on the dirty side and boy
you'd of thought I had sent him some porn to his work
email. He chewed me out when he got home and threatened
to take my computer and beat it with a baseball bat. So
now I only email him at work about stuff like to say
hello or remind him about school functions.
      After I was done with my email I went and took a
peek down the hallways just for safety sake before
bringing up one of my favorite sites with pictures and
stories of others in diapers.
      Man time flew by and before I knew it, it was
bedtime again. I heard someone coming down the hallway
and had quickly did an Alt-Tab to bring up the Kids
Internet page and to hide Deeker's web site that I had
been currently viewing. It turned out to be dad, "You
still on that thing?"
      "Actually, I was just about to kill it and go to
bed." I lied.
      "Good, it's about that time anyway. You feeling
okay?" he asked.
      "Yeah! Fine!" I said.
      He gave me one of those funny looks of his and went
back down the hall. I flipped back over to Deeker's web
site with another Alt-Tab and printed the story I had
been reading so that I could lay in bed and read it.
While it was printing I went and closed my door and then
went to get undressed. Just about the same time I had
completely stripped the last page came out of my printer.
I went over to my computer and was about to log off when
the little mail icon started to blink. I decided to check
it out, I knew it was probably more junk mail but it
wasn't. It was another email from StrikerAce.

      Simon,
      Glad I finally found you! I got your email address
from the 'Find A Buddy' search on the Kids Internet.
Okay, you have got to tell me why Peter wet his pants!
      ~ StrikerAce ~
      a.k.a Jasper

      And attached to the email was a picture that made me
nearly fall out of my chair. I was looking at a very
detailed picture of Peter from behind wearing my
sweatpants and it was clear as can be that he'd wet them.
      I was panicking! "How'd he know? How'd he get this?
How, how, how?" I whisper-screamed at my computer.
      I looked closer at the picture and realized that it
had been taken through my window and I knew that the two
flashes I'd seen while Peter was changing his clothes
were not lightning but were the flashes from a camera.
"No wonder there was no thunder!" I said again to my
computer!
      I was about to re-email Jasper but I heard dad
calling from down the hallway, "Lights out Simon!"
      I quickly logged off the computer and hobbled over
to the door to flip off my light. In the partial darkness
that was still being semi-lit from the streetlight
outside I made my way back to my bed and climbed in. It
took me a while to get to sleep. I couldn't stop seeing
that picture in my head and the questions wouldn't stop
flooding my mind.