Nic's Story

Part 1

Chapter 1. 

I tasted the metallic flavour of blood in my mouth. Pathetic! My body gave up too quickly...Bruised and humiliated, I was spread on the tarmac behind the plant nursery like a fallen angel, who had fallen from a respectable height. 

"Gardening calms children." I remembered the Principal's words to an assertive auditor. Perhaps it calms the Principle before the audits, but the space behind the nursery was a perfect arena for fights. It was well hidden from the teachers' eyes and you could barely hear screaming in the Principal's office.

My fight happened after 4 in the afternoon. During the day older students used the corner to snog and smoke and did not appreciate anyone around whose pocket money was below $10. My budget was $2 on a good day.

My lips were split, my nose turned into a blood fondu, and Caleb was dipping his knuckles in it. He was dark red from the effort and I was proud to make no sound but my eyes were about to water. Caleb noticed the betraying drips and took it as a token of victory. He got up and threatened me with a fist.

"Want some more, Johnson?"

I knew he could not go on even if I replied positively. He was exhausted, breathing heavily. His tiny white nostrils were stretched to their limit pumping big volumes of hot dusty air. But I did not want to risk it. I stayed mute. Caleb picked up his backpack, kicked me one last time for luck, and I watched his overly expensive sneakers travel away from me into white dots.

The school security guard, Mrs. Walker, shortly arrived to the crime scene. She must have been doing her routine rounds. She looked at my torn shirt and shook her dreadlocks disapprovingly.

"Could we not stay away from each other even on the last day of school?" Mrs. Walker helped me up.

Mrs. Walker knew it was Caleb. It was always Caleb. Last week she caught us in the parking lot throwing road cones at each other. The week before that she saw us on after-hours CCTV pulling each other's hair. And then there was that episode of food siege in the canteen on Wednesday. She had lost count of our clashes. We were like a bad TV series - superficially dramatic, never-ending and not making any sense. Mrs. Walker also knew that Caleb always won. He was the captain of the football team, with all the "guns", and I was good at art. 

- What happened, sweetheart?

- Nothing.

 She sighed through her light moustache when I refused to tell. To be honest, I did not know what happened. I was trying to pinpoint what started it all, and I could not. My best guess was that Caleb and I did not get along, and somehow, by the time we had to go home a duel was booked. As always Mrs Walker asked me if I wanted to call my mom to come and pick me up. We both knew she would not, but Mrs Walker had to ask.

Well, I am being unfair. That day my mom was, in fact, busy. That same evening we were moving in with George, my mom's new boyfriend. George lived 90 miles away and managed a farm. It was a mystery to me how my mom convinced this descent man into living with us. Even though he was 15 years older than my mom, he should have standards. George was no bum and therefore out of my mom's league. Women must have been really scarce in George's town. Why would he want her? I genuinely did not understand.

My mom was smoking outside, when I arrived on my bike. She was tapping her red pump against a crumbling porch step. She was nervous. All the luggage was outside waiting to start its new life. The cigarette ash was landing onto our shabby bundles and boxes. Great, not only they looked pathetic, but now stank as well. I hoped George would not change his mind.

"You are late". She said.

Mom did not ask me why I was late or who split my face.

"You might wanna check my packing. I don't know what you wish to take". She said.

"It is the usual. It is not the first time we are moving in with some random dude, is it?"

"George is not random".

She inhaled as much smoke as she possibly could, held it securely in her lungs for a second, and then let it out portion by portion. That was her way of showing she was not impressed with the comment.

"Why do you dress like that?" Her short denim skirt and deep cleavage frustrated me these days.

"Like what? I always wear this", She inhaled a big chunk of poisoned air again.

I was in a bad mood. I should be used to fights with Caleb and that my life sucked, but the miserable novelty of it never faded.

George arrived in a silver pickup truck, positive and full of energy. "What a naive, innocent man", I thought. He kissed my mom's hand. Lisa smiled weakly.

"What happened, Nic?" George asked noticing my smashed face

I opened my mouth and in the corner of my eye I saw my mom's face with the "don't be a cunt" expression. It was in our mutual interest not to delay the move into a house, where electricity worked every day. We were unsure what George might do in such a situation. He might complain to the school, if I told him I was beaten, or stay to retaliate on my behalf. A cowboy hat on his square head and a shotgun next to the driver's seat suggested he took things seriously. So I went for a little lie.

"I fell from my bike on the way from school." I said. My mom nodded with approval.

George did not enquire further. He was a good guy. Hope my mom can bring something to the table too.