Growing Like a Tree

CH-4

The community of Forest Heights was small and close knit, and gossip was quick to spread ─ especially if it concerned Chase ─ because he was an anomaly. The other children were mostly well behaved, and were, like all children, prone to mischief but quick to repent. Chase was prone to very violent and extreme mischief, and he never seemed to be repentant at all.

The summer of the year he turned eleven, Chase went on vacation to an expensive resort with his family. Two other families from Forest Heights had also gone to the same resort. When they got back home, the whole community heard about how Chase had disgraced his parents in public. For some reason he had started slinging a foul stream of curses at his father. His outburst ended with his father having to physically restrain him, and bodily remove him from the shocked company of guests in the hotel dining room. There were rumours that his father had been forced to get physical with him in front of everyone to squelch his tantrum.

For a whole year, Chase would prowl the school ready to attack anyone who even hinted at the vacation. In retaliation, all the kids in his class made it their duty to report him to the teachers and principal for even slight misdemeanors. I heard his name associated with more fights than ever. They said that he got caught smoking cigarettes, and his cousin said he saw him shoplifting. The result of all this was that his family made it public in their social circles that Chase would never be taken on a family vacation again. He would stay at home, alone with just a maid to babysit him every year. The next trip they took would be to an amusement park he had been begging to visit. They would go to the amusement park he wanted to visit more than anything, but he would not be allowed to go with them.

My family wasn’t as well off as his, so our vacations lasted only a week and we usually just went camping. I officially met Chase the summer he had been left behind while his family went on vacation. We were both eleven years old, because our birthdays were later in the year. My family had already gotten back from our vacation, and I went often to the community center to play on the basketball court there. His parents had made him join the summer program at the community center while they were gone. A driver would take him in most mornings and pick him up in the afternoons.

That summer Chase was more mild-mannered than I had ever seen him. All the kids in the summer program avoided him, but none of them were overly hostile towards him. All the kids who usually called him names and picked fights with him had left town with their families on vacation. Chase participated in the games and classes, and sometimes, watching from a distance, I saw that he looked almost happy – which was saying a lot, because he rarely showed any type of facial expression. He also became the art instructor’s favourite because of how good he was at drawing.

When all the classes and activities were finished for the day, all the kids were free to play. Chase was always on the basketball court. No-one played with him, but he never seemed to mind. During the first week he had claimed half the court for himself. The other kids were content to let him have it for fear of incurring his wrath since the ones who usually chased him off weren’t around. As long as he had a basketball in his hand, he didn’t bother anyone either, so the arrangement worked out for both sides.

He played by himself until it got dark sometimes. Those days his driver would have to come get him and tell him it was time to go home. I thought it was funny how Chase, who was usually so disrespectful to most adults seemed to get along well with his driver. He would always beg to be allowed to play for a few more minutes, but when Mr. James – the driver – got firm and told him it was time to go, he went peacefully even though he always complained about how he could have been allowed to play for a few more minutes.

After the summer program ended, he kept coming to the community center to play basketball. Sometimes he would be dropped off by Mr. James and other times he rode his bike. He would play all day if no-one came to get him. It was just us two on the court one afternoon, and I had been watching him play by himself for a while. I wasn’t sure I wanted to interrupt his game, because I was afraid of what he might do if I did. I screwed up my courage though and claimed one half of the court.

When he saw me, he made room, then kept on playing like I wasn’t there, keeping to his half of the court. He liked to pretend he was in a big important game when he thought I wasn’t listening. He pretended to be the commentator, lauding his own great basketball skills, exclaiming under his breath every time he scored points! This happened for a few days. One day, instead of playing on one side of the court by myself, I decided to steal the ball from him. Just as he was about to make a basket, I jumped in and snatched the ball out of the air.

“Ohhh! And Richards STEALS the ball!” I shouted in my best commentator voice and ran to the other hoop, dribbling.

I heard him chasing me and for a split second I wondered whether he would punch me in the face if he caught me. I decided not to think about it and aimed for the basket in front of me instead. He passed by me in a blur. I panicked for a second when he jumped in front of me, until I realized that he’d grabbed the ball before it hit the ground. I had managed to make a basket. He looked at me, dribbled for a bit, then tried to duck past me. I made to block him, but he got around me, and after that I didn’t think about anything else except how to keep scoring. We played until we were tired and sweaty and out of breath from being a whole team each and two commentators.

“Time out!” He wheezed, then laughed a little, then wheezed again. He was bent over, hands on his knees, struggling to breathe normally in between raspy giggles.

“Okay!” I replied and flopped down on the ground too tired to move another step.

When we were both breathing a little easier, he looked directly at me and his smile kind of faded. His eyes were piercing when he fixed them unto mine the way he did.

“What’s your name?” he asked quietly.

“Max,” I said.

“Chase,” he replied and stuck out his hand to me. I took it and shook, and he smiled a little. Then he got his ball and walked away.

After that day we played together every time we saw each other. That was how we got to be friends. When the other kids saw us playing together, we got strange looks. Some of them came up to me when he wasn’t around and told me not to play with him. Some of the adults told me to be careful he didn’t hurt me or get me in any trouble. I never told him people told me to stay away from him. After playing with him a few times I got the feeling that he wasn’t as monstrous as his reputation, and my curiosity about him made me stick around. I hadn’t made any friends outside of school yet anyway.

He didn’t talk much, except when he was a pretend commentator on the basketball court. The times when he came over to my house to play, he never caused any trouble. He was very polite to my parents as well. Even though they had heard things about him he was so well behaved at my house that my parents figured some of the things they had heard had to be inflated rumours. He even began to mimic me by hugging my mother every time he came to visit, calling her ‘Mom’ – which made her laugh. He fell in love with my dog Rex and made me include Rex in everything we did when he came over. In my eyes, he was a normal eleven-year-old, and after I got to know him, I just couldn’t understand why he got into so many fights so often, or why so many kids seemed to think he was an awful person.