Who Am I?

Chapter 2

At 7:10 Wednesday morning, I climbed onto the school bus, which would take me to my fate. Was I nervous? Certainly I was nervous. Like I said, I’m always nervous on the first day of school, and being in seventh grade, I was in a new building. The middle school and the high school were in the same building, but high schoolers only came into our side if they had a class like art with a teacher who taught in both schools.

Billy had gotten on the bus at the stop before mine and had saved me a seat.

“Nervous?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“You’ll get through it, and by the end of the week you’ll be right back in the swing of things.”

I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t say that.

As we got off the bus in front of the building, I could hear friends greeting each other. There were hugs and laughter as I made my way alone and silently into the school.

Inside the building, I found my locker on the second floor. I was so nervous my hands were shaking, and it took me three tries with the lock to get it open, but eventually I succeeded. Fortunately, my homeroom wasn’t far away, and I found it easily.

I went into the room and sat in the back, where I took a look at my schedule. It looked okay except that I wasn’t sure I wanted PE right after lunch. ‘Oh well,’ I thought, ‘somebody has to do it.’

The morning passed with no real problems.

At the end of the last class before lunch, Molly Whittredge, who had been with me in school forever, came to me and asked me to sit at her table. That would make lunch easier. I wouldn’t have to seek out a place to sit.

“Did you bring a lunch or are you buying one,” she asked.

“I’m buying,” I replied.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and we both laughed. “I don’t suppose lunch is any worse here than it is in most schools,” she observed. Then, changing the subject, she asked, “How was your summer?”

“Good,” I said. “I spent a lot of time swimming with Billy O’Neill.”

“Oh, wow. He’s older than we are, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, and he’s a jock.” Again, we both laughed.

In the cafeteria, I got in line and Molly went to stake out a table.

Carrying my full tray, I looked around and saw her sitting at a table with some of the kids we had known in elementary school.

There was an empty chair waiting for me. I put my tray on the table and sat, observing that there was only one other kid who had bought a lunch.

Everyone greeted me, but it was clear they were catching up with each other after the summer vacation. I sat and listened. I wasn’t one for entering into general chatter unless I was asked a question.

The lunch food was some sort of unidentifiable meat, tasteless mashed potatoes, and steam table mixed vegetables. There was a cup of ice cream for dessert.

At PE after lunch, we were each assigned a locker and told we needed to provide our own lock. Then we were told to change.

Being naked with a group of boys was never my idea of entertainment. Facing my locker, I stripped and quickly slipped on my jock strap. What I really dreaded was the shower after class.

Out on the gym floor there were a lot of basketballs and everyone seemed to be randomly shooting baskets or dribbling. I practiced dribbling, which I could do, but I didn’t take any shots because I knew I was dismal at shooting.

A whistle blew and the coach shouted for us to go to the bleachers. I sat beside a kid named Tommy Shaw. We didn’t know each other but he seemed okay, and he chatted until the coach called us to order.

“Today, I need to go over our rules and procedures for gym,” the coach began. He gave us his canned talk about washing our gym clothes and always having them ready for class. Then he reviewed the rules in the locker room and the shower, emphasizing that there were to be no put-downs or, as he said, “physical humor”. With that, we were dismissed to the locker room and the showers.

Stripping again, I followed the others into the showers. At least we each had our own stall. The stalls had no doors or curtains, so I faced the wall and quickly washed and rinsed myself. On the way out of the showers, we each took a towel. Standing facing my locker, I dried myself as much as I could. I observed that most of the boys weren’t trying at all to be modest. I wondered if I would ever be that comfortable having others see me when I was nude.

At the end of the day I found my bus and rode to the corner where I had gotten on in the morning. Billy wasn’t on it as he had football practice. His first game was a week from Friday.

As I walked into the living room, Mom asked, “How was school?”

“Okay, I guess. At least there weren’t any major disasters.”

I went into the kitchen to make a snack and then went to my bedroom to begin my homework. It was only the first day, but already I had a ton of homework.

* * * * * * * *

I managed to survive school on Thursday and Friday. During the lunches, I began to talk with the other kids. I told them that I had spent most of the summer swimming with Billy. They were appropriately awed.

As I got off the bus on Friday, someone grabbed my arm. “Hey kid,” he asked. “What’s your name?”

“Hunter,” I said. “What’s yours?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he answered. “From now on, when you get on the bus in the morning, you will give me your lunch money.”

He was tall, and judging from the way he held my arm, he was stronger than I was.

Gathering my courage, I said, “No, I won’t.”

From out of nowhere, his fist came straight towards my face, hitting my nose and perhaps breaking it.

“Remember that on Monday,” he said, and walked away.

When I went into the house, Mom took one look at my bloody nose and asked, “What happened?”

“I had a little accident in PE,” I said. “It’s nothing serious.”

I went into the kitchen, got a plastic sandwich bag, and filled it with ice. Then I went to my room. I lay on my bed with the bag of ice on my face and cried. Not only was I hurt, I was scared. I was only a seventh grader and the animal who had hit me was probably a senior. At least, he was big enough for one. I tried not to think about what would happen on Monday, but I wasn’t successful. I knew I couldn’t survive being beaten every day, and I knew that what had happened was just a warning.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew Mom was calling me for dinner. As we sat at the table, she looked at my face. My nose had stopped bleeding, but I was getting a black eye.

“That was no gym accident,” she said. “If it had been, the nurse would have put ice on it long before you got home.”

She knew I was lying, but she also knew I didn’t want to talk about it. When I didn’t respond, we ate in silence.

By Saturday morning, my left eye was swollen nearly shut. Again, Mom asked what had happened. I didn’t say anything, but I could tell she was thinking about what to do.

I stayed in my room nearly all that day. I tried to do some homework, but between my damaged eye and my fear, I found it difficult to concentrate.

* * * * * * * *

On Sunday morning, it was raining. Mom and I went to my grandparents’ house. They asked me what had happened, and I told them the same thing I’d told Mom. I could see they didn’t believe me, but thankfully they dropped the subject.

In the afternoon it had stopped raining, and I went to see Billy. Opening the door, he took one look at me and hustled me upstairs to his room. When he had closed his door, he asked, “Hunter, what happened?”

I began to cry and blurted out the whole story.

“Wait a minute,” he said, “Do you know who the guy was?”

“No. I’ve seen him a few times but I’m pretty sure he’s in the high school.” When Billy asked me to describe my assailant, I said, “He was sorta tall and heavy. He had black, greased-down hair, and he was dressed all in black.”

“Did he have a tattoo on his arm?”

At first I hadn’t remembered about that, but as I thought back, I nodded. “Yeah, it was some kind of serpent.”

“Carl Marshall,” he said. “I should’ve known.” Standing, he said, “C’mon, we’re gonna pay him a little visit.”

“I can’t!” I exclaimed. “He’ll kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I’ll see to that.”

Downstairs, he introduced me to his parents and asked them for a ride to the Dollar Store. His father sighed, saying he’d be happy when Billy got his license, and we went to the car. Billy assured him that we wouldn’t be long.

In town, his father parked the car, and Billy and I walked into the store.

Billy asked a clerk where we could find Carl. “In the stock room,” she said, pointing to the back of the store.

Billy pushed open the stock room door and walked in as though he owned the place, while I followed reluctantly behind.

Looking up from his work, Carl sneered, “Well if it isn’t the school hero and his sidekick. What the fuck do you want?”

Billy grabbed Carl by his T-shirt and pushed him into some boxes. “I’ll tell you what I want. If I ever hear that you’ve so much as looked at Hunter again, I will beat the snot out of you. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah. Okay. Just let me up.”

“And if I hear about you doing this again to any other kid, I’ll put you in the hospital. Got that?”

“I got it,” said Carl softly, cowering back against the boxes.

“Fine,” Billy said. “This is to pay you for Hunter!” He slammed his fist into Carl’s face. Then he turned to me and said, “Let’s go, Hunter.” I followed him and we strolled out of the stock room as though nothing had happened.

Back at his house, Billy thanked his father, and we went upstairs. In his room, he turned to me and, gently holding my face in his hands, looked carefully at me and said, “You poor kid.” Then he kissed me softly on my mouth and the familiar electric shock shot up my back.

We didn’t do any fooling around that day and it was too cool for swimming, so we just sat and talked. He asked me how school was going, and I said it was okay. He asked about friends. I told him about the lunchroom table and about meeting Tommy in PE.

At about 5:00 I said I had to get home to supper. He followed me down to the front door, where we stood for a moment.

“I think you’re probably safe from Carl now, but if he or anyone else bothers you, don’t wait. Tell me right away.” I nodded and left.

As Mom and I sat at the kitchen table, she again asked what had happened to my eye. “Don’t worry, Mom. It’s all taken care of.”

She was curious but I guess she decided not to ask any more.

* * * * * * * *

That year, Tommy Shaw and I became good friends. We had gone to different elementary schools, so I didn’t know him until we got to middle school. I had no idea where he lived, but I knew he didn’t ride our bus.

On Friday he stopped me in the lunchroom and asked if I was going to the football game that night. I wasn’t very interested in football, but I had thought it might be fun to watch Billy play. My problem was that I had no ride, and I said so.

“My dad and I will give you a ride to the game and home again afterwards. Where do you live?”

I told him, and he said they’d pick me up at 6:30.

Mom thought it was good that I had a new friend, and she quickly agreed to my going.

Tommy and his dad arrived on time. Tommy got out of the front seat and held open the back door. I climbed in and he climbed in beside me.

“Dad,” he said, “this is Hunter Martin.”

Turning in his seat, his father said, “Good to meet you, Hunter. Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m just the chauffeur.”

We laughed and then Tommy and I chatted while his father drove.

The parking lot was quite full when we arrived, but Mr. Shaw found a place and the three of us walked to the bleachers, making the obligatory stop at the concession stand on the way.

I really didn’t know much about football, but I knew Billy’s number was 23, so I watched him whenever he was on the field. Tommy kindly explained some things to me. He was never condescending, and I began to relax and enjoy myself.

With only about a minute to go in the game, our team was deep in its own end of the field and behind by three points. Billy threw a long pass down field. Two receivers and three defenders all went up for the ball, and for a moment it was impossible to see who actually caught it. One of our receivers came down with it, broke free from the defenders, and trotted into the end zone.

“That’s what’s called a ‘Hail Mary pass’,” said Tommy as the stands erupted. “The quarterback is out of time so he just rears back and throws the ball as far as he can, hoping a receiver will catch it.”

Billy and the receiver were mobbed by their teammates as they came off the field. Then everyone in the stands held their breath while the other team’s quarterback tried a Hail Mary pass and failed as time ran out.

As we walked through the parking lot back to the car, everyone was celebrating and shouting and laughing. I wanted to see Billy, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to get to him.

Getting out of the car at my house, I thanked Mr. Shaw and Tommy and went in. Mom asked me how the game went, and I told her about the last minute of play.

“I didn’t know you were interested in football,” she said.

“I wasn’t until tonight.”

I lay in bed that night, still calming down from the excitement of the game. I wondered if Billy would still pay attention to me, a lowly seventh grader, now that he was a school hero.

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