Red and Blue Chronicles Box Set

Chapter 7

But night after night I read on, diving deeper and deeper into my memories. Nathan was still overseas and I had nothing better to do, so sitting all alone in our new condo, I flipped through the pages of my past, revisiting that wonderful, but confusing time of my life…

Dear Bump,

Dad is leaving for two months.

On account of a job in the Hudson Bay. I’m going to be responsible for the garbage and snow shoveling. Some of the cleaning, too, but mostly the scrubbing of the toilet bowl. Aunt Frannie is coming to stay with us until Christmas. Dad is leaving on a train, and he’s leaving on Tuesday. He said, “Take care of your ma and don’t let Aunt Frannie drink too much.”

I’ve never been on a train, but I’ve been on the subway a lot, so that counts for something.

Next week is Halloween. I’m going as a pirate. Boone is going as a mass murderer. He and Nick have been working on some sort of graveyard set. They plan on “having little kids s**t their E.T. costumes.” When I was there yesterday, they were trying out a home recipe for fake blood and human tissue. Mrs. Lund warned, “If one of you ends up blind because of this revolting mixture, don’t expect me to drive you around for the rest of your life.” But she stuck around the kitchen anyway. I think she was fascinated by the result.

I didn’t know this, but Nick is really good at arts and crafts. I tried not to watch him, but that’s like trying to keep my eyes on a book when the TV is on.

I noticed everything Nick picks up always looks so much more interesting in his fingers. He made a mask out of papier maché and used flour and water to create scar tissue. The mask is in the shape of a human face, except it has no mouth, just two slits for the eyes, and a pair of small holes for the nose. When Nick slipped it on, he looked terrifying. Then he tried on Johan’s old work clothes and walked around the house for an hour without saying a word. He’d stumble across the room and Helga would scream, swearing that whatever he broke, she’d take out of his savings. I played my worst game of chess ever. Every time I caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye, I squirmed in my seat. I think Nick grew two inches since August. He must be close to six feet five now. His voice is just as deep as Johan’s. His shoulders are wider than the fridge. He’s colossal, and yet, there’s something delicate and refined about him.

It was his seventeenth birthday on August eight. Johan gave him a car. It doesn’t work, but they’re going to fix it up together. Nick knows a lot about cars and mechanical things.

I hope Mom and I don’t encounter problems, you know, on account of us living without Dad. I don’t know if Mom knows how to change a fuse. Dad showed me where he keeps his shotgun. It isn’t loaded, so it doesn’t matter that I don’t know how to use it. “Just to scare ‘em,” he said. “Aim and scream.”

Mom’s hair is growing back, but she’s still real skinny. I don’t like it when she hugs me because I can feel her bones on my stomach.

Aunt Frannie said, “I’m going to show you how to cook. If your mom knows you made it, she’ll have to eat it.”

I don’t mind learning how to cook. I just don’t want anyone knowing about it. If JF or his friends find out that I’m spending Sunday morning baking cookies, even Boone won’t be able to stop them from torturing me. They’ve started calling me a homo, and yes Bump, I know what a homo is.

Well, I’m pretty sure I know what it is.

Jesse Chao quit the math club. Can you believe him? “I kissed a girl on her privates,” he said.

But it’s a lie of course. Boone and JF cornered him during recess and demanded to know what it looked like. Jesse said it had a pair of lips and five small holes. Boone gave Jesse a wedgie, while JF slapped his ears pink.

Boone got detention again, but JF got off with a warning. No fair.

* * * *

Dear Bump,

I really need to start using my head if I’m going to become an accountant.

I’m grounded until next Saturday. I’ve never been grounded before.

It had all started with an argument during gym.

We were playing volleyball. I don’t mind playing volleyball, but I don’t like to serve. My wrist ends up looking like a lobster tail, and I hardly ever get the ball over the net. I was lucky yesterday, because of Boone and Sebastian’s fight, I didn’t get to serve.

Boone and Sebastian have been sworn enemies since the first grade. Sebastian lives on Gordon Street, where the “decent people live,” and he constantly brags because his father owns the building. Also, on top of that, when Sebastian’s white Adidas get too dirty, his mom buys him a new pair.

Everybody hates him, but no one ever says it to his face.

Except for Boone.

Sebastian has an older brother. David. David is the same age as Nick. David and Nick are best friends. Well, they stopped talking a few weeks ago. I still haven’t figured out why. They used to share a paper run when they were my age and would spend a lot of time by the river, camping under the stars.

But then this summer, this new boy called Corbin was visiting someone on our street and somehow, David and Nick started fighting all the time. So I heard.

After that boy left, they didn’t make up. Now David goes to Loyola. It’s an all boys’ Catholic school. Nick goes to Monseigneur Richard. It’s a French public school. It’s brown and looks like a jail.

Anyway, all this to say that yesterday was the first time Nick and David spoke in weeks. I think they might be friends again. Even though Nick had to give back the car because of what he did to David’s house.

What happened was this.

Yesterday morning, in gym class, we’d been playing for ten minutes when Boone’s turn to serve came up. Him and Sebastian had both been named captain of their teams. Sebastian’s team was winning, on account of them cheating twice. Coach Angelos hadn’t caught Sebastian’s double hits (he never does for some reason), so we hadn’t gotten the points for them.

Boone’s eyes had shrunk a size and his mouth was a straight line on his face. He was going to pop his lid. “Watch this,” he said under his breath, as he passed me. Boone grabbed the ball and made his way to the back of the court. “I’ll show ‘em.”

I took my position and held my breath. I know how hard Boone can hit that ball, and somehow, I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be aiming it at the ground.

I was right.

Boone looked straight at me, bounced his eyebrows like Grouch Marx, and before I could try to reason with him, he’d tossed the ball up, slamming it over the net in a powerful jump serve. We all heard the ball as it bounced off his skin and flew across the court like a stray bullet. Boone’s aim is near perfect. It’s hardly ever off. When it landed on Sebastian’s cheek, I cringed.

Then someone whispered, “Ooh…that must have hurt.”

Of course, Sebastian had to play it up. He fell to his knees and started screaming. “My face! My face!” Coach Angelos blew his whistle and ordered Catherine to get the nurse. Sebastian only yelped louder, moaning that he couldn’t feel his face anymore.

Boone sneered. “How come it hurts then? Huh? Liar.”

I tried to keep Boone quiet. I knew Coach Angelos was going to get on his case as soon as he was done tending to Sebastian’s swollen, reddish cheek.

“Don’t s—say any—anything else,” I pleaded softly. “Tonight’s Ha—Halloween, remember?” I didn’t want Boone to get detention. We had plans to go trick or treating. This was going to be our last year. “Go ask if he’s o—okay.” I suggested in a whisper.

Boone only scoffed. “Are you crazy? No way. He had it coming.” Then he raised his voice, his words thundering through the gym. “Sebastian, you cheater! I hope your face stays like that! You should thank me. Now you don’t even need a mask for—”

“Mr. Lund.” Coach Angelos was getting to his feet. His usual warm brown eyes were sharp on Boone’s pink face. “Out you go. Change your shorts and go to Strozuk’s office.”

“But, I—”

“Now.”

Boone threw his hands up and kicked the ball across the gym. “No fair.”

As Boone went out the gym doors, Sebastian cried. “I’ll get you back for this, Boone! You and your retarded brother!”

Boone spun around. “What did you just say?” His face was white with anger.

Coach Angelos set his humongous hand on Boone’s chest. “Easy now, Lund.”

But Boone’s eyes were on Sebastian, who was still on his knees, glaring up at him. “You heard me,” Sebastian said, obviously suicidal. “Your brother’s so f*****g dumb, he can even read a license plate.”

I don’t know how Boone got past Coach Angelos, but somehow, he did. He lunged at Sebastian and fell on top of him. All I could see were Boone’s arms going up and down, and Coach trying to pull him off. “Stop it!” he kept saying to Boone, but Boone wouldn’t stop. “Don’t ever call my brother a retard! My brother’s dyslexic! You don’t even know how to spell that word!”

Later that night, after we were all safe and sound in our beds, I looked the word up in the dictionary. Dyslexia: any of various reading disorders associated with impairment of the ability to interpret spatial relationships or to integrate auditory and visual information.

I guess it means Nick can’t read or write without thinking about it for a long time. That’s probably why he always looks so serious.

Boone is suspended from school until Friday. He’s not allowed to leave his apartment until Christmas.

That’s two months. I think he got lucky.

So here I was, all dressed up in my pirate costume and no one to go trick or treating with.

Last night, Aunt Frannie helped me with my make-up and even gave me her red scarf to tie around my head. I had an eye patch, and she made a hook out of tin foil to stick inside my sleeve. I wore my black shorts and my dad’s white shirt. I was aiming to look like Long John Silver (I read Treasure Island four times since Aunt Frannie gave it to me), but when I stood in front of the mirror, all I saw was a skinny boy dressed up like a gypsy. I decided I was too old for Halloween anyway. I would stay home and help Aunt Frannie give out the candy.

Our part of the building wasn’t decorated, but the Lunds’ front yard looked like something out of the “Thriller” video. They even had creepy music and everything.

I sat on the balcony steps and watched the street.

“Why don’t you go out there with your friends?” Aunt Fran asked.

“I have a—a st—stomach ache.”

“Red, honey, you’re missing out on all the fun.” She spoke through her fake teeth. She was dressed up as a vampire. Her long red dress hung all the way down to the floor, and her wig was black and shiny. “Are you sad about Boone?”

I shrugged.

“Suit yourself, but I still think you look too darn cute to be sitting here moping around.”

Cute? I’m twelve already.

“I wanna stay.” Besides, I wanted to watch Nick and his friends.

Josh D’Amico, the toughest of the gang, wore a hockey mask and a plaid shirt. He stood quietly at the far corner of the front yard, stiff as a statue, and every time kids came up the steps, he’d lunge at them, screaming like a crazy man. Terry was dressed as a headless nun, and would grab the kids by their sleeves, and yell, “Trick or treat? Come on, what’ll it be, you little bugger!”

The kids who actually made it to the front door were finally greeted by Nick.

I liked his persona best.

Nick wore the mask he’d made and that black jump suit. The suit had a shiny zipper all along the front. His ashen blond hair was tucked under a black cowboy hat. Nick didn’t say one word. Never made a single sound. He would only drop a few candies into the courageous kid’s treat bag and nod slowly.

It was beyond creepy. It was great. Until Mrs. Lund came back with Lene. She had passed a few of our neighbors on her way home. Some of their little kids were in tears. “Nicolai!” she yelled from the sidewalk. “You stop frightening the children! Let Dad give out the candy.”

Nick nodded slowly. His silence was even creepier than when he’d done it for the kids. Josh and Terry, who are terrified of Mrs. Lund, ran off with the Sanchez girls. Nick stayed behind.

Lene was dressed up as Marie Curie. I know because she showed me a picture of the scientist in the Lunds’ encyclopedia. She cut loose of Mrs. Lund’s firm grip and skipped up our front steps.

She sat by me. “Hello, Derek.”

“Hi, Lene.”

“Are you the Count of Monte Cristo?”

“No.”

“Don Juan?”

“No.”

“Our baby is sleeping. The cat ate one of her eyes, but the doctor said she would be fine without it.”

“Lene? Why is your t—tongue blue?”

She plucked a lollipop out of her apron. “I was sucking on this. You wanna taste it?”

“No.”

“How come you aren’t trick or treating?”

“Don’t wa—want to.”

Then like some kind of slow, deep dream, Nick’s voice dropped down to me. “Come on, Lene.” He leaned over the railing. “Mom wants you to take your bath.” He wasn’t wearing his mask or hat anymore.

Lene pouted. “You know, Nico, baths weren’t common practice in the early 1900’s and I—”

“Is that so?” Nick laughed. “Come on, Ms. Curie. Make like it’s 1987 and get in that bath before Mom yells at me.”

Even Lene knew not to protest. She got to her feet, and Nick picked her up, carrying her as though she was a doll, right over the railing. “Come on, bright eyes, and wash your mouth. It looks like a Smurf had an accident on your tongue.”

Looking at the street, I got nervous. There weren’t that many kids out anymore, Nick and I were basically alone. I wanted to go back inside, but that meant having to say good night at least, and I didn’t know if I could manage to do that. My mouth was too dry. My tongue, too heavy. I sat on the first step, trying to keep my breathing in check, with my hands on my lap, staring at the empty sidewalk.

I could see Nick out of the corner of my eye. He leaned over the front railing, watching the street. “You want some of this left-over candy?” he finally said. “Nothing but toffee and raisins, but I think I saw a few gum sticks in there.”

I dared to look over my shoulder. “No—no, thank you.”

“Sure?” He was handing me the plastic pumpkin over the railing. He looked nine feet tall. The streetlamp shone in his eyes. “Come on, O’Reilly.” His mouth glistened like water under the moon. “Have a box of dried raisins at least.”

I wanted to, but that meant having to reach out and take the pumpkin out of his hand. I wasn’t sure if I could do it, but he still stood there, with his arm stretched over the railing, and I had to get myself together. “All right,” I said, standing up. “Tha—anks.” I took whatever my fingers landed on and stuffed that in my pocket without even looking at it.

Nick set the pumpkin down, shut the front door, and then stood against the wall with his hands in his pockets. I wanted to sit down again, but instead, I stayed by the railing, staring at the ground.

Nick glanced around. He took a quick peek into the front window of their apartment and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one. I watched the orange fire on the tip of the cigarette widen every time he sucked on it. He inhaled deeply and exhaled through the nose. He didn’t cough once.

He didn’t say anything else. Just smoked.

Then of course, stupid JF had to show up. “Hey, Nico,” he shot from the sidewalk.

Nick doesn’t let people call him that. Only his family are allowed that privilege. But JF is clueless. He’s always trying to impress Nick, on account of JF being a schmuck and all. “Hangin’ out, huh, Nico.”

Nick tossed his chin up. “Nice costume, by the way.”

JF was dressed up as the wrestler Macho Man, but his wig looked like something Madonna would wear. I caught the sarcasm in Nick’s voice, but JF obviously didn’t. “Thanks, man. Your brother’s still being punished, huh?”

Nick squashed the end of the cigarette on his heel, then walked over to the street drain and dropped it in there. “That’s right.” There was tension in the air.

It made my nerve endings sizzle.

“Too bad though,” JF said. “He was only trying to defend you. I mean, Sebastian was just looking for a—”

“What’s that?”

I swallowed hard, sitting tight.

“Well, I mean—” JF’s voice was smaller now, “—Sebastian was sort of putting you down and Boone didn’t like that one bit so.”

“Putting me down? What did he say? Word for word, please.”

JF was going to have to repeat those words. He was going to have to call Nick Lund a retard to his face. JF looked up to me with panic in his eyes. “Well, I don’t remember everything he said, just that you had some problems or something. Anyway, Boone sure gave him a lesson, right?”

Nick wasn’t buying it. “Problems? What kind of problems?” He took a step towards JF and folded his arms over his broad chest. “What the hell did he say exactly? Come on, spit it out.”

JF stared at the ground. “He called you a retard,” he whispered.

We could barely hear him.

“A what now?” Nick’s voice was like an ice storm.

“A retard. He said you couldn’t even read a license plate.”

“Oh yeah?”

My heart had begun racing. I didn’t know if it was from dread, or satisfaction.

“A retard, huh?” Nick repeated, his eyes blazing. “He said that? That little s**t? He said I was retard. Huh. Okay. All right. Okay.”

JF had managed to slip past Nick and had come up the stairs to our balcony. “Derek, he’s flippin’ out,” he said under a breath.

Oh yeah, Nick was flipping out all right.

“A retard? I’m gonna f*****g break him in half and have him eating out of his asshole for the rest of his life.”

I could kind of picture what that might look like, and it wasn’t pretty.

“I’m gonna go pay that little pimple squirt a visit. No fair Boone had to take the wrap.” Nick looked up to JF. “You go get Josh and Terry. Tell ‘em I’ll be at Dunkin Donuts.” He climbed up the stairs and looked over at me. “O’Reilly, if you have some extra toilet paper you wouldn’t mind parting with, I’d like it, please.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“But don’t get in trouble on my account,” he said softly, before walking into his home.

He was worth all the trouble I could ever get into.

JF stuck his hands into his pockets. His wig was on crooked and his face looked like curd cheese. “You could have said something. You were there, too.”

I pointed to the street. “Better do-do what he said be—before he comes back out.”

“What do you think he’s gonna do? I mean, he won’t really break him in half, right?”

“I don’t know, b—but I’m getting him s—some toilet paper.”

Inside, Aunt Frannie was on the phone. “Honey.” She folded her hand over the speaker. “Be quiet, your mom’s sleeping, but don’t worry, she had an egg sandwich before she went to bed. See? It’s not so bad.”

Aunt Frannie thinks mom’s blues are hungry all the time.

I slipped the silk scarf off my head and washed my face in the bathroom sink. I put Dad’s shirt in the hamper and pulled my thick black sweater over my head. It hadn’t snowed yet, but it was still cold out there. I tiptoed to the hallway closet and gently opened it.

“What are you looking for, Red?” Aunt Frannie stood behind me, eating a candy bar.

The answer jumped out of my mouth before I could even think about it. “A flash light.”

“What for? There’s plenty of light. Are they calling for a thunderstorm?”

Aunt Frannie could wrestle a grizzly bear, but she doesn’t like thunderstorms.

“M—maybe.” I said, avoiding her wide green eyes.

“Oh, well in that case, I’m going to get the candles ready. Where does your mom keep ‘em, hon?”

We have two white candles in the kitchen. Both melted down to the middle. They’re in the second drawer, under the wash cloths. “In the ba—basement, in Dad’s corner,” I lied. I thought I could slip the toilet paper out to Nick while she went looking for them.

She threw her white robe on and took the flash light out of my hand. “Just in case.” She headed down the narrow stairs to the cement basement.

She’s lucky. I have to sleep down there.

As soon as she was out of sight, I yanked the bulging bag of toilet paper rolls out of the closet and sprung for the front door.

Nick was on the sidewalk. He carried a baseball bat and a bag full of what looked like groceries. I handed him the rolls. He slid the bag under his arm and winked at me. “Thanks.” He took off on his skateboard. Nick rides that board like he’s standing on a magic carpet. Even when carrying two grocery bags and a baseball bat.

I went to the corner of Wellington. I watched Nick pop his board into his empty hand and walk into the Dunkin Donuts with his ammo. The other guys were already there.

I dragged my feet back to our apartment building because I didn’t have the courage to follow them. I sat on the balcony again. My chest tightened and I jumped to my feet, going back inside.

It was a school night and I suspected Aunt Frannie wouldn’t let me leave now that it was dark. I decided I would tell her I was going to bed, then try to sneak out through the back door. It would be tricky, but if she was watching TV in the living room, I could probably manage to escape for half an hour before she came down to check up on me. I had a plan. It felt really good to have a plan.

I never have a plan.

“Aunt Frannie?”

She was still on the phone. “What is it, hon? You know, you should be in bed, it’s almost ten.”

“Did you find the candles?”

“No, Derek. I found two cans of pork beans though. Good night.”

“Good night.”

On my way down to the basement, I made sure to land loudly on every step, then I crept back up, and tiptoed to the kitchen. I passed my parents’ bedroom, but the door was shut.

It’s always shut.

I pulled on the back door, making sure not to make a sound, and snuck out.

The yard seemed bigger. The sky, darker. I was the only one awake in the whole universe, and all I had in my pockets were two quarters and some of Nick’s raisins.

I pulled the sleeves of the sweater over my hands and headed for Wellington Street.

The guys had already left the restaurant, but I knew where they were. I decided to take the alleys to Gordon Street. This way, no one would spot me and report my whereabouts to Aunt Frannie in the morning. There was a thin coat of frost on the ground and my breath streamed in and out of my lips like I was boiling pasta in my mouth.

I walked fast, with my head down, trying to ignore the barking dogs as I passed the yards. I hadn’t brought my medicine and I was beginning to feel a little short of breath, so I slowed down.

Then I heard voices.

They were coming from the street. Gordon Street. The voices were uneven, some were yelling angrily, some were hissing low, some were high pitched and threatening. All of them were coming from Sebastian’s front yard. I stopped.

Nick’s voice was the deepest of them all. I could single it out easily. “Your brother had it coming,” I heard him snarl.

That’s when I decided to step out of the alley and see what was happening. The first thing I saw was the Pinets’ maple tree. It looked like the dress Lene wore when she was a flower girl last year. I guess Nick had gotten toilet paper from everyone who would give it to him, because my rolls couldn’t have done that. The second thing I saw was the front door. It reminded me of Slimer from the Ghostbuster’s movie. Except thinner.

Then I saw Sebastian rolling on the ground with JF, the two of them punching each other’s shoulders and growling like mad dogs.

Meanwhile, Terry was trying to hold Nick back from destroying David.

David kept yelling, “Come on, Nick! Come on, hit me! I know you want to. You’ve been wanting to hit me ever since I told you I was leaving for Vancouver!”

The last thing I saw before I was struck down by David’s elbow, was Nick pushing David. Something exploded inside my head and everything went black. When I opened my eyes, I was lying on my back on Sebastian’s lawn.

“Oh, f**k me.” I recognized Nick’s voice. He was pacing around me. “This is your fault, Davie. I swear to God, if that kid has anything broken, it’s on you.”

There was a pounding in my head, but when I wiped my nose, I didn’t find any blood. David’s elbow must have hit me in the forehead, because I have a small blueish bump there today. Everyone said I was only out for a second. I can’t believe I fainted in front of Nick and his friends.

I tried to sit up, but Terry held me back. “No, Derek, stay down. Sebastian’s getting some ice.”

I heard a woman’s voice in the background. It was Mrs. Pinet, Sebastian and David’s mom. “What in heaven’s name is going on here?”

David waved the question off. “Mom, it’s okay. We were just having a little fun and it got out of hand.”

“A little fun? David, look at my tree! And the door? What happened to my door?”

“We’ll take care of it,” David said. “Right, Sebastian?”

Sebastian had reappeared. He’d managed to slither pass his mom in the doorway and was bringing me a pack of frozen peas. “Right.”

“Who’s that for? What happened to that boy?” Mrs. Pinet sounded like a baby bird. “Oh my, is that the O’Reilly boy? Derek, is that you?”

I sat up and looked around. JF had bailed. Predictable. Sebastian sat on the curb with his head between his knees. Josh and Terry stood a safe measure away from Mrs. Pinet’s slimy front door. Both their T-shirts were ripped, and their hair looked like shrubs in the fall. They were also almost as out of breath as I get when I’m having an episode.

Nick was pulling the toilet paper out of the tree.

“Nicolas, you leave that alone. Don’t touch anything on my property. I’m calling your father. You stay put. You and your no-good friends.” Mrs. Pinet was on her way to me. “Oh dear, look at you. What are you doing with these, these…criminals?”

I got to my feet and dusted myself off. I felt like I was going to be sick, but I clenched my jaw and held it down.

Mrs. Pinet lifted my face to the streetlamp and frowned. “Well, you aren’t bleeding. You look all right. Sit down. I’m going back inside to call Mr. Lund.” She walked away, then said, “You know, Derek, your mom’s been through a lot. You doesn’t need all this extra worrying.”

What was Mom going to say? Would she punish me? Would she call Dad? Would she cry and scream? I was hoping she would. At least that way she wouldn’t be sleeping.

Mrs. Pinet went back into the house and I sat down like she asked me.

“She’s gonna call your dad, man.” Josh had taken a few steps in Nick’s direction and was trying to make eye contact with Nick. But Nick kept staring at the ground. His long hair hung down into his eyes. I couldn’t make out his expression, but I knew it probably looked a lot like the mask he had made. “So f*****g what,” he whispered. “C’est la vie.”

C’est la vie. That means, “That’s life.” I don’t know why Nick said that. Life isn’t that. It just isn’t.

“Oh, Nick, man, I can’t get in trouble again, you know my dad…Come on, Nico boy, don’t lemme stand here with my d**k in the wind.”

Josh’s father is in the army. Josh can do a hundred pushups without breaking a sweat. His stomach is harder than a concrete block, on account of his dad’s strict regimen. “Come on, Blue. f**k, come on! I’m f*****g bailing, okay? And you shake my hand on it, man. You promise not to come after me tomorrow.”

Nick threw a finger up in Josh’s panicked face. “All right, f**k off,” he said quietly. “Get outta here.”

Josh bolted out of the street faster than Carl Lewis. “I owe you one, Lund,” he shouted over his shoulder.

David sighed. “Nick, why d’you let him leave?” David’s dark eyes shine every time he speaks to Nick. Like he has fever.

Before Nick could answer him, Mrs. Pinet had come back out. We all stiffened at the sight of her smile. “Okay, boys. Mr. Lund is on his way. And you, Nicolas…Well, you’re just lucky my husband isn’t home.” She turned to David. “Get all this cleaned up and go to bed. Your father will deal with you when he comes back from his business trip.”

I noticed how David flinched at the sound of those words. Was he afraid of his father?

Sebastian whined, “But Mom, I didn’t do anything.”

“Shut up you, little shit.” David yanked Sebastian off the curb. “You heard Mom. Get some trash bags from the shed.”

Sebastian kicked a rock into the street and looked over at Nick. “This is all Boone’s fault, you know. He started all of this.”

David slapped his brother’s shoulder. “You don’t know when to shut up, do you? It’s over.” Then he stared into Nick’s face. “Right, Nicolai?”

Nick tipped his head and held David’s deep stare. “Right,” he said with a smirk.

I never noticed, but David is almost as tall as Nick, and he’s got the same sort of eyes, except his are almost black and his hair is dark and curly. He’s so much more refined than the rest of the guys. Always wearing black and smoking his long cigarettes. He’s a ballet dancer, too. Everybody knows it, and yet, the guys don’t torture him about it.

They wouldn’t dare. Because of the sacred bond David and Nick seem to share.

“I’m sorry about what my brother said about you.” David’s voice is different when he speaks to Nick. It almost sounds like he’s in a lot of pain. “You’re not…you know.”

“Retarded?” Nick smiled a little.

David’s breath seemed to catch in his throat. “Stop it.”

When Nick laughed, it resonated through the street. He laughs like the green giant. At the sound of it, everyone seemed to let out some of the extra air in their lungs. I kind of felt like one of them for a minute.

Then Nick looked over at me as though he’d forgotten I was even there and frowned. “You all right? How’s your face?”

“Oh, the kid’s beautiful face is all right,” David said, gently lifting my face up to his.

Had he called me beautiful?

“You shouldn’t have come.” Nick gave me a stern look. “I’m gonna be in deep s**t ‘cause of it.”

I’d never thought of that. Of how bad it would look to Johan. I hadn’t planned on getting Nick in trouble, I just wanted to see what he was going to do with the toilet paper. “I ca—came by myself. You didn’t as—ask me to.”

“Yeah, well, you try tellin’ my dad that.”

I bit down on my lip. That nice feeling was gone. I only felt like crying.

“Okay.” Nick stretched his arms out and took a deep breath. “I hear the car. You guys don’t say a thing. Not a f*****g thing. Got it, Terry? Let me do all the talking.”

When Johan pulled up, all my courage leaked out of me. I’d never seen his face like that. It hung down and all his features seem to meet in the middle. Johan climbed out. He didn’t even look at any of us. He walked slowly to the front door and knocked.

Mrs. Pinet’s face appeared in the wedge. “John,” she called him.

Johan means John. I didn’t know that. That’s Dad’s name.

“I want you to know that I don’t plan on reporting this to the police,” she said, “I know you and Helga are good folk and you can handle this matter privately.” She lowered her voice, but we could still hear her. “I know he’s been givin’ you some problems. I heard about what they found in his locker.”

What was she talking about?

Johan said something and Mrs. Pinet nodded and then called out to her sons. “Come on, boys, you’ll finish this in the morning. It’s late, there’s school tomorrow. Get inside.”

Sebastian immediately dropped the bag and skipped up the stairs, into the house.

David hesitated, but Nick tossed his chin up and whispered, “Better do what she says.”

David’s body seemed to harden and his mouth looked hungry for something. “Nick, you forgive me then?”

“Yeah…” Nick tensed. “Now, go.”

David’s lips formed a strange smile and he disappeared into the house. Seconds later, the front porch light went off.

“Get in the car.” Johan had opened the passenger door for Nick. “Derek, Terry, get in the back.”

We all obeyed.

Johan drove Terry home. On the way there, none of us said a word. I could hear Terry swallowing beside me, that’s how quiet it was. When we got to his apartment building, Terry leaned in between the front seats. “Thank you, sir. Have a good night, sir.”

Johan didn’t say anything. He waited until Terry was safely inside his apartment and drove away slowly.

That’s when I noticed I wasn’t breathing much. As a matter of fact, none of my breaths made it past my throat. I pushed my shoulders down and forced them there, like Mom had showed me. I widened my nostrils, trying to get some more air inside them. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes. Sometimes, if I concentrate and picture the sponges inside my chest opening up like flowers after the rain, I can get my lungs to work without my medicine.

Johan had started talking. He wasn’t yelling, just talking real slow, but it couldn’t be good because he was grumbling in Norwegian.

Nick didn’t say much, aside from a grunt here or there. Once in a while, when Johan raised his voice a bit, Nick would sigh heavily, or chew on his thumbnail.

Trying to understand what they were saying helped me keep my mind off my episode and slowly, my breaths became deeper.

Then Johan looked up to the rearview mirror. “Nicolai says we shouldn’t tell your aunt you were out with them tonight. What do you think, Derek? Do you think I should lie to your auntie? Do you think a young man should avoid responsibility, or consequences for his actions? Do you think it’s how good men behave? Should we all connive and deceive the women who care about us?”

I had the feeling he wasn’t really talking to me.

“Should we? What do you think? What is the proper and honorable way to deal with this mess? You tell me.”

Nick sunk back into his seat. “Dad, why don’t you leave the poor kid alone?”

The poor kid. Is that what I am to Nick?

“I—I think we sh—should tell my aunt,” I said, trying to sound brave. “I want to.”

Johan pulled into their driveway and sighed. “I think so, too.” He turned to Nick. “Go inside. Mom wants to talk to you, and I suggest you don’t argue with her.”

There was nothing I could do for Nick. I watched him climb out of the station wagon and walk up the stairs. He pushed the front door open and crept inside.

Johan rubbed his face. “What am I going to do with that boy?” He came around and opened the door for me. “You want me to come with you, or can you handle this on your own?”

“I’ll be o—okay by myself.”

“All right. Now, listen to me. You’re a good boy, Derek. I know you don’t have it easy. I know you miss your dad.”

I don’t miss Dad at all, but I let him say it anyway.

“Derek, I’m counting on you to try and keep Boone straight. His mom and I feel like he’s trying to follow down his brother’s path, and that’s not a good thing. There’s not much we can do for Nicolai, he’s too headstrong, too angry, but Boone, Boone we can still work on. I want you to be the voice of reason. Okay? You understand?”

The thought of trying to keep Boone from doing anything was kind of funny, but I nodded. “Mr. Lund, Nick isn’t tha—at bad, he was only—”

“There are things you don’t know about my son. He’s trouble.” Johan pointed to my front door. “Now go inside, before you freeze to death.”

Trouble. What kind of trouble is Nick?

Inside, Aunt Frannie was still on the phone. When she saw me, she hung up without saying good bye. “Honey? What are doing? Were you outside?” She put her hands on my face. They were very warm. “Baby, you’re frozen. Where were you? I thought you were in bed. Where did you go, Derek?”

I opened my mouth to explain, but a big fat sob came out instead of words. I couldn’t control it. Snot and tears shot out of me and my shoulders heaved up and down. “He—he was trying to d—defend himself,” I stammered between sobs. “He was on—only trying to m—make them take it back. He’s not d—dumb.”

“Okay, okay.” Aunt Frannie held me against her bosom. She smelled like Chantilly perfume, baby powder, and cigarettes. “There, there. Did you get in some sort of fight, is that what happened?”

I pulled away a little and wiped my nose with the back of my sleeve. “Uh-huh.”

“And don’t tell me. Boone was with ya.”

I shook my head. “No, he’s grou—ounded. It was Nick. B—but he didn’t ask me to come. Just wanted toilet p—paper.”

Aunt Frannie chewed on her bottom lip for a second and then threw her head back and sighed. “Nicolai Lund. That boy is so dangerous, his looks alone could kill you.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, but she had this dreamy look in her eyes. Then they cleared up and she got serious again. “I’m gonna run you a hot bath. Throw your clothes in the hamper and wrap yourself up in your dad’s flannel robe.” She went to the hall closet to fetch a towel. “Now, how should I punish you? What would your mom do?”

I thought about it for a while. Mom wouldn’t do anything. Then I thought of Nick and Boone. “I should b—be grounded until Sa—saturday. And no TV.”

Aunt Frannie popped her head out of the bathroom. “Sounds fair to me.”