Bradley Wallace Murphy just turned thirteen, and he's not happy about it. He doesn't fit in at school, he's no good at sports, a bully torments him, he's a disappointment to his parents, and his only "friends" are fictional characters on a TV show c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
CHAPTER 13
Wagner Regains Control
Needless to say, the Murphy household was in an uproar the following morning when his parents saw his battered condition and Katie, furious at being made a fool of, demanded to know where he'd gone. Bradley Wallace calmly told the lie he and Whilly concocted - he'd been "called out" by one of the other guys and he had to go fight him or else be called chicken for the rest of his life. The fight had taken place in the Gully.
Katie immediately pounced on the fact that he was going in the opposite direction from the Gully and he smugly told her he did that to throw her off the track. At least he got some enjoyment from her outrage. In a huff, she stormed out of the kitchen. Poor Katie, he thought, she could dish it out but she couldn't take it. He settled down at the kitchen table to await his parents' wrath.
His mother demanded the other boy's name, but Bradley Wallace refused. "I already have a bad enough reputation without being called a snitch, too." His mother stared at him in fury, as though she didn't even know him.
"Please," Bradley Wallace implored, "I'm fine and it's all over. Can't you just forget about it?"
"How, with you looking like that?" She hadn't even gotten dressed yet, he noted. She was still in her bathrobe and slippers. "And you know how I feel about fighting."
His father had thus far said nothing substantial, but now he reached out a hand to examine his son's bruised face more closely.
"I don't think it's all that bad, Marge," he observed carefully. "At least, not bad enough for him to see the doctor. And the swelling'll go down in a couple of days."
Bradley Wallace almost fell out of his chair in amazement. His father had never said much about fighting one way or the other, only that it was sometimes necessary as a last resort. Nor had he ever made any attempt to instruct him in the basics of self-defense. And yet here he seemed to be taking his side!
"Thanks, Dad," he said, slightly embarrassed.
Marge looked ready to explode.
Jack took on an inquiring expression. "Tell me, son, what was the outcome?"
An uncertain frown fluttered briefly across his sunset of bruises, but was quickly replaced by a manufactured grin. "I think I won." Which wasn't entirely a lie - he was here and the creature wasn't.
His father nodded approvingly. Bradley Wallace couldn't believe it.
His mother threw up her arms in flustered exasperation. "That's right, encourage him to fight!" She cast a look at his father that would curdle milk.
"I'm not encouraging him to do anything," Jack explained calmly, but through gritted teeth. "But if he has to fight he might as well win, right?"
"Men!" Marge spat, storming out of the kitchen. Her hard-heeled slippers clicked their way down the hall like a ticking time bomb.
