The Rocky Road Pact

Chapter 29: Hey Jude

I hate my name.

I've always hated it. Jude. Like some hippy-dippy poet or something. Thanks a lot, Mom. She's the one who named me, and couldn't even do that right. She screws a lot of things up, and has since I was a little kid.

 I'm no Jude.

When I returned to Coldspring this time, I'd been going by my middle name for a while:  Thomas. Tommy suits me much better. Like this town, with its roughnecks and beer bars spilling honky tonk music out into the rain-washed streets. I like the people here; you know where you stand with them. Not like in Vancouver, where everyone is as fake as my Mom and someone can smile in your face and stab you in the back. Not here. If they like you, they'll take a bullet for you. If they don't, you'll know about it quick.

Lucky for me, I'm a fast learner. When Mom and Dad dumped me off on Aunt Bea when I was a little kid, I was scared of these loud, obnoxious kids at first. But I caught on quick. After the giant one, Moose, pushed me down in the playground for the fourth time, I sprang up and bloodied his nose. We've been best friends ever since. Fighting is their love language.

I liked it in Coldspring. I hoped Mom and Dad would just leave me here; they didn't want me hanging around them anyway, they were too busy drinking and getting high to even notice I was around. Which is fine by me. I found friends in Coldspring, rough, uncivilized friends but we've been through it all; these tough guys and me. They always have my back. 

And then there's Cassie. She doesn't remember me, which is probably a good thing. I was a little nerd in middle school when we first met. The year Mom and Dad decided to give their money to that TV preacher and decided we weren't celebrating Christmas because of something stupid that he said. The same guy that ended up getting thrown in jail for tax evasion. Smart move, Mom. Luckily, my grandfather is richer than God — that's where she gets her seemingly endless supply of funds so she can travel the world and dump me off back where my Dad grew up. That's fine by me. I didn't want to go to Bali anyway for whatever spiritual retreat the parents are on. I wanted to come back here. I wanted to see her again.

I thought she'd remember me, the pathetic kid who wasn't allowed to go to the school Christmas party when I was little. I'll never forget how lonely I was, circling the school like that while they all enjoyed the party. Then, all the candy raining down from above, a little Christmas miracle from these rough kids and in the middle of them, there was Cassie, smiling down at me like an angel.

Just when I got used to everything here, Mom and Dad shipped me back home on that long plane ride to Vancouver. I guess I took a little bit of Coldspring back with me; every time some kid tried to get smart with me, I'd crack them one upside the head. Suddenly, I was a problem child with anger issues, and shipped off to juvvie where I learned more about crime than I ever wanted to but not in the way the parents hoped. I learned how to hotwire a car, how to fake your way through any kind of bullshit therapy session to convince the powers that be that you are 'rehabilitated' and 'remorseful' and that a bobby pin works very well as a key to break into houses.

Not that it was a cakewalk. I never want to go back to that grey gulag. Never.  And now, I was heading right back there, or worse — to jail.

Another thing you learned in juvvie was how to read people and I have a talent for it. It's not that hard, you just watch people. I can tell if people are good at heart, or have dark intentions. My gut tells me who the really bad ones are, the ones who like to hurt people for fun, because they enjoy seeing others suffer. Those are the worst of the worst, and I've met them everywhere — in the court system, the hospital and running schools. Very few of them are poor, most of the ones I've met are smiling professionals in expensive shoes. What is it the Bible says? Satan has the eyes of a lamb. 

Bobby had those eyes. I knew from the moment I met him, that guy was bad news. When Moose elbowed me at the beach party and pointed, and I saw Cassie stumbling off with him towards the woods, I saw red. I wrenched her away from him, and the look on his face was pure hate. I shuddered to think of what would have happened to her if I hadn't intervened. I knew I made an enemy that night, but even I underestimated how much he hated me. 

She was so drunk that night, telling everyone she wanted to sleep around just to get some experience. I shake my head now, thinking about it. I signed that stupid pact just to get her to shut up about it so she wouldn't attract any more predators. The pact says we should have 5 dates over the summer, I assumed that meant sex. But I've been holding out, like a scared virgin on prom night. It's not that I don't want to — hell, of course I do. But not like this. Not so she can get her stupid boyfriend back and rush into a dead-end marriage and life of hell like my parents. 

I want her to come to me because she wants me for me. Not for any ploy. 

We've been on a couple of these ice cream 'dates' and I've tried to show her that sex isn't all about the act; it's getting to know someone, making sure you'e comfortable together, having fun. It's about connection. I don't even know if we're still continuing with the pact; any minute now I'm going to be hauled off to jail. All I know is the moments I spent with her this summer were the best I even had. 

"Got everything?" My aunt slammed the driver's side door to the truck.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Call me when you get to New Brunswick. Your cousin Greg will look after you until this blows
over."

"I will."

"Do you have those sandwiches I packed for you?"

"PB &J, my favourite," I said. My aunt Bea looked older than I'd ever seen her, with lines around her eyes and forehead. She was the only one who loved me unconditionally. "Thanks, Bea. For everything."

"Just take care of yourself and stay out of trouble," she said, wiping a tear away. "And Tommy? You didn't really hurt that boy, did you?"

I sighed. Question of the year. 

"No Bea, I didn't. Sure I've bloodied some noses in my time, but only when someone started something with me first. I'm a petty thug, not a psycho."

She sighed with relief and patted my arm. "Good. Now get out of here before the chief of police comes looking for you. I hear you've been messing around with his daughter." There was a twinkle in her pale blue eyes.

"Hanging around, not messing," I said, putting the truck in gear. "Bye." 

I backed out of the driveway and swung on to the country road that led to the highway. I was headed for the causeway, that tiny strip of land connecting the island to the mainland. There was a seven hour drive ahead of me and I wasn't looking forward to it. The whole thing felt wrong to me — why should I have to leave without graduating after working so hard, leave all my friends behind and not even say goodbye to Cassie who'd been so good to me. I still felt her soft hand on my forehead; I felt her touch would always be there, like a tattoo. So much was left unsaid between us. 

I tried to put her out of my mind, squinting against fading light as I drove into the sunset.