Twenty-seven
The end of January proved to be uneventful. During the day I muddled through school, getting surprisingly good grades and flying under the radar for the most part. Dr. Tonsch quickly bored with my endless ability to stay one step ahead of him, so he bowed out of the sessions altogether. Meeting with Ms. Martin were a hell of a lot easier than the third degrees I got from that quack. Once he had left, she spent a lot of time giving me honest advice on how to deal with the never-ending line of jerks I encountered in school. We got to talk honestly, and I got to tell her how I really felt about things that were transpiring around me, and how my friendship with Jordan was keeping me grounded. She congratulated me in being able to do what a lot of adults couldn't do; keep my life in perspective.
At night I spent my moments in sleep at Donla's cabin. The Counsel was now eight in number, as Donla became an invaluable source of reason when our suggestions skipped off the rails. Like Emyll's idea of creating a wooden horse and hiding inside as we were wheeled through the castle gates as a gift for the princess, as if we were the stealthily approaching army of Greek soldiers attacking Troy...yeah, she wasn't very wild about that one.
Barathasan was second in command, as his mind far excelled past the twenty-eight years of life his small body did not show. Yet he always consulted with her whenever we were brainstorming, and she never chastised us for very stupid ideas; just gently let us know they were very stupid ideas. It occurred to me to make them older, perhaps restore the fierce protector to her former self. But, as Donla would always assure me, that idea "would keep."
One day as January drew to a close and as we talked our way through life skills class, I asked Jordan "So, how would your dad react to me coming to your house or you coming to mine?
She fidgeted a little, biting her lip. "Umm, to be honest, I don't know. We've never asked anyone over before. And we don't ask to go to other people's houses. It just seems to save us the argument if he decided it was a bad idea. He's not very keen on inviting people who don't, well, think like us."
"Well, that's not that big an issue." I replied. "I'm not an atheist or anything like that. I just don't get to go to church that much. Mom's only into getting out of bed on Sunday if there's something to be gained by it. I'm pretty sure there has to be a God up there; otherwise we'd all be a lot more screwed up than we already are."
"Yeah, well, that's the problem." She replied nervously. "You believe in God, but you don't dedicate your life to Him. And Daddy basically thinks the only people who are going to show up in Heaven are the ones in our church, and sometimes I think he has doubts about half of them. It's just really weird, you know?"
"Was your dad just born with a Bible in his hand, or did they hand him one the second they put him in your Grandma's arms?" I joked.
"Oh no. That didn't happen. Grandma was Jewish! Grandpa was Methodist. Daddy was raised in the Jewish faith for the longest time. He had a bar mitzvah, planned to meet and marry a nice Jewish girl, the whole deal. But when he and Mama were dating he was not a very nice person. He somehow decided that religion was a joke. Decided he wasn't going to have anything to do with religion anymore. It broke Grandma's heart. When Mom first met him, he was really good at hiding his true character. But eventually, and way too late, she found out he was an alcoholic and an abuser. He hurt her a lot. We all suffered from his bad temper. Most of us kids learned from an early age how to stay out of Daddy's way. Unfortunately I was too young to learn that lesson. See?" She showed me a tiny scar on the side of her head, which I never noticed before because it was hidden underneath her hairline. "I was two and a half when he sent me flying into the bedroom wall. After that, Mama's dad, my grandpa, threatened to shoot Daddy on sight if he ever tried to come back to the house drunk. And Daddy took his word for it and abandoned us. He left for about six months. It left Mama in a real lurch. She had three girls and she was pregnant with Jacob; she had to go on welfare and food stamps. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment and us girls slept on the floor.
Then one day Daddy just came back. He announced how he turned his life around, gave up the bottle and devoted his entire life to God. He was nice to us, and super nice to Mama. He was going to seminary to become a preacher. Then he got asked to associate pastor the Pentecostal church we're at now and the preacher he was learning from was a stupid man." She paused, I guess looking for a bolt of lightning to hit her because she called a man of God "stupid." Looking around, she continued. "Anyway, that guy yelled about everything he hated. He hated gay people, he hated people who were different colors from us and he hated women because they were all the spawn of sin. Didn't help he had been married three times and all of his wives eventually got tired of him and ran off. But my daddy believed every word that came out of his mouth, chapter and verse.
So that's how he got to be such a heavy preacher. He started treating Mama like she was a jezebel who flirted with every man who caught her eye. Made her dress in those ridiculous dresses that drag the ground, and when we got to the age of ten he did the same to us. He threw all of her make-up out and made us grow our hair out, because cutting it was vanity. The boys have outdoor chores to do and we have the indoor chores to attend to. The boys were being groomed to take his place one day, but the twins aren't working out the way he hoped, so it all falls on Jacob now. It's like we're all stuck in Daddy's perfect world, except it's only perfect for him."
"Well, I know what Jordan's going to do." I replied. "You're going to stay at my house whenever you want. Take a break from the catastrophe of your house and enjoy the catastrophe of my house." Jordan smiled.
"Couldn't hurt to try, could it?" She said. "I'll ask Mom about it. She won't say 'no'. As a matter of fact, she probably won't say anything. And Daddy's never at home, so as long as I'm home before dinner he won't know." We started grabbing our books to pack in our book bags. From the court I heard my name being called. Well, something that came close to my name.
"Hey, Lesdora!" Mike was making a half-assed attempt at an insult. It sounded so moronic.
"Are you trying to talk to me, loser?" I didn't really feel like taking his crap. I wasn't going to let him bother me. Jordan turned white as a sheet, but I had something in me she didn't know about. I had the strength of the Counsel of Eight. This little idiot couldn't hurt me.
"Yeah, get down here so we can mess up that ugly face of yours again!" Jackson guffawed, acting as if Mike had told the most hysterical joke.
I actually charged down several of the steps, causing both Mike and Jackson to step back involuntarily. "Hey, I've got a better idea! Why don't you and Jackson go fuck yourselves?"
Jackson got in on the act. "Hey, looks like the little fatty got herself some balls." He smirked.
"Yeah, and I'm getting ready to knock her back in her place." Mike replied.
"Oh really?" I said. "If you think you can do it, just try. Just take a swing at me, in front of all these people! How are you going to explain that away to the coach, huh?" The entire gym surrounded us, watching to see if two boys who were each a foot taller than me were really stupid enough to beat up on another student when there were so many witnesses present. The boys kept up their tough-guy stances, staring me down. I glared right back at them, not giving an inch. Jordan pleaded with me to come back up the stairs, but I wasn't going to do it. I was sick of it. This was going to stop, right here, right now.
The coach came out of his office. His face was beet red, probably from the exertion of having to get out of his chair and walk the required thirty steps to the other side of the gym. He pushed his way through the crowds, yanked both Mike and Jackson up by the collars of their shirts and pulled them back. "Hey, hey! What's going on here?"
Mike tried to cover. "That girl was coming down to attack us!"
Jackson agreed. "Yeah, she was going to hit us with something, I don't know what. She's crazy!"
The coach didn't believe them. "You're going to stand here and tell me that little girl up there, two heads shorter than the both of you, was coming down here to beat you up? Did you two blockheads actually think I would buy that load of crap? I don't care what that girl does. You've both got scholarships to protect. And they're not going to hand those over to two discipline cases who go around beating up on girls almost half their size! Now, get your butts in my office before I lay my clipboard across your heads! MOVE!" Mike and Jordan took off like scalded pups. The coach shot me an angry glare before he retreated behind them.
The bell rang, but most of the class just stood there, watching to see if I produced a weapon or went after anyone else. Jordan and I picked up our bags, walked past the gawking crowd and walked out the gym door. As we passed the Terrible Twosome, the disappointed looks on their faces told us they expected me to emerge bloodied and bruised. As I passed them I smiled. "Oh, you might want to go check on your little boyfriends. They're getting their butts chewed out by the coach." They ran back toward the gym, trying to fight their way through the crowd that had just started to emerge through the doors. I never felt so in charge of my life as I did in that exact moment. Jordan and I laughed as we walked toward the doors.
It was the last moment of panic those two holy terrors would share together. As a matter of fact, it was the last meaningful moment of friendship they would share at all. Valentine's Day saw the two friends becoming mortal enemies. At a sweetheart bash, Sasha declared herself over Jennifer, Peyton and their juvenile nonsense, dumped Jackson flat and introduced her new boyfriend Conner to the popular clan. He was a sophomore at the college she was planning to attend, and having a man who was two years older than you before you were officially a freshman in college was quite a coup. So Sasha strutted around the party like she owned the place, which led to Jennifer spreading the rumor that Sasha spent a lot of time on her knees securing the affection of Mr. Conner Blake. And when that rumor made the rounds back to Sasha, it was on. She marched from the Langston family kitchen where she and Conner were showing the "younger children" how to properly chug a red plastic cup of beer and, without a word, walked into the den, grabbed young Miss Jennifer Langston by her long, blonde hair and started swinging. This led to the biggest cat fight in the history of Ross Alexander Memorial High School. By the time the two combatants were finished Sasha was missing some of the expensive hair she had specially added for Conner's benefit, and Jennifer's face was swollen and bruised, and blood was gushing everywhere. Needless to say we were most unfortunate to miss out on Jennifer's company for a week, and Sasha walked around school wearing a hat. And the gossip was so juicy it reached even the darkened crevices of the outcast table, via means of an overheard conversation. I breathed a sigh of relief, because if meant I would be the last thing on their minds for a while.
Jackson was inconsolable. He actually thought that he and Sasha were forever. He had planned this huge presentation at graduation where he would present her with a diamond pre-engagement ring in front of all of their friends and family. He never expected her to drop kick him in the heart the night of the party like that. He sat in the corner of the gym the whole week, falling victim to fits of uncontrollable crying. Mike did the best he could, being a Neanderthal and all and not really knowing how to handle a blubbering best friend. In the end he just sat there beside Jackson and said stupid things like, "Yeah, I know." and "Sucks, don't it?"
I know I shouldn't have enjoyed the misery playing out in front of us, but deep down I did. Things were suddenly going right for me. Jordan and I had become friends on a mission, a mission to leave all of our misery behind us. And on the other side of my life, the part that occurred when the real world was in slumber, I was busy making plans. I was figuring out how to use my budding abilities to make minor changes. It was, as Donla called it, my "training" for the real thing, when I would face my deepest and darkest fears and confront my mom and my sister who had taken my rightful home in this world away from me. I worked very hard on impressing Donla, on making her see just how ready I was to head back up that mountain and set the people of Psitharis free of the curse I had imposed upon them. But every time I thought I was ready, every time I announced my intentions to move on and get my kingdom back, she would stand up from the round table and say, "No, you are not ready." And always, the Counsel would agree with her. I felt the strongest I had felt in a long time, both in my waking world and in my quest to save my dying Psitharis. It was frustrating to know they didn't feel the same way. I often took my arguments to Grandpa, but I knew who he would side with.
"Grandpa, when is she going to think I'm ready?" I asked, ready to give up altogether.
"It won't be long, Medora." He assured me. "Donla has lived in this world a long time. She will be able to tell when it is time to go forward. Until then, practice. Train and learn. The time will come soon enough." When he said that, he looked sad. I think he was worried about losing me again.
The first day of March I got a cruel reminder of where I stood in the pecking order of our school, and the focus shifted away from feuding friends back to the freak. The last class of the day was about to start. Before I headed to class I stopped to use the bathroom; that proved to be a mistake. A rush of girls came into the bathroom at the same time. Among them was of course Sasha Daniels. She took one look at me and I braced myself for impact. Instead, she walked toward me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Hey, I thought I it was time we cleared the air about what's been happening this year." She half smiled. The girls were snickering all around her, which put me on my guard. "I think I might have been a little crazy at the beginning of the year, and that bitch Jennifer talked me into being mean to you because she didn't like the way you looked, which is pretty dumb. I was thinking. Before we all graduate and go our separate ways, could you and I at least pretend we don't hate each other and leave it at that?"
I still didn't trust her, but I thought it was at least decent of her to reach out to me. Maybe the tragic events that led up to the tragic red beret she was wearing on her head knocked a little sense into the brain underneath. Warily, I replied, "Yeah, that would be all right." I started to go, but she stopped me.
"I really hope Jennifer and Peyton lay off you. You didn't do anything wrong. You don't deserve the crap we've unloaded on you." I managed a smile as she extended her hand. Still not quite sure of how authentic she was, I shook it. I noted the girls around me staring at me like they knew something I didn't, so I knew I probably wouldn't make it out of the bathroom unscathed. I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and all I could think to do was make a hasty retreat. I turned my back and...
SLAM! Two hands shoved me hard on my back, sending me sprawling to the floor. Unlike the last fall I had at Sasha's hands I was able to catch myself without breaking my wrist, but I still managed to crack my head on the hard tile floor. Still looking at the floor and the little drops of blood that were falling near my forehead, I watched as several pair of feet walked by me, listened as six girls laughed hysterically at my misfortune. Sasha spoke behind me triumphantly. "Just kidding. You need to be reminded of what you really are, bitch."
As I watched Sasha's red shoes disappear out the door, I heard one of the other girls say, "Man, you were right. That girl is stupid!" And with that, the bathroom emptied, leaving me bloody and bruised, and wondering why I didn't just back out of the bathroom in the first place.
