Awakenings (8 page)

Daniel glanced at his friend Adrian Lutz and flashed him a look that said,
You should have warned me.
Behind Mr. Palumbo hung a series of world maps showing the evolution of political boundaries over the centuries. Daniel locked on to India, circa 200
B.C.
, and called up the proper information from his brain.

“Huh … sure.”

“Really?” said Mr. Palumbo.

“Yeah, see … Green Lantern is a Kshatriya warrior who takes his orders from the priestly Brahmans represented by the Guardians of the Universe on Oa. The Khunds are a warrior race trying to expand their influence, in much the same way as Alexander the Great. And this drawing is like … when the Indians fought off the Greek general Seleucus Nicator as he tried to invade Punjab.”

Adrian rolled his eyes in disbelief. Giggles erupted throughout the classroom. Mr. Palumbo, aware that few students were as well read as Daniel, nevertheless was not going to suffer any excuse for ignoring his lesson.

“I’m giving you a zero for the day. And, one other thing … all of your desks throughout the school are covered with these drawings. You’re destroying public property.”

“Destroying? You can still use them.”

More chuckles erupted.

“One of your pictures ruined Katie Millar’s white blouse after she rested her arm on it,” Palumbo said.

Daniel’s heart sank. Katie was one of the few kids to befriend him after he had transferred to George Fox Middle School two years earlier. They sat at the same desks in shared classrooms and left notes for each other (and the occasional test answers when one’s exam preceded the other). With the onset of acne and wet dreams, Daniel realized Katie was more than just a school buddy. Her skin had adopted a sweet fragrance, and he was extremely aware of her budding chest, especially when she innocently bent over in a loose top. He often woke up hard at the thought of her, something he wished he did not do because he was embarrassed to face her at school, but he didn’t have any control over it. Her eyes wandering toward older boys, especially with letters on their jackets, frustrated him, and now he was responsible for ruining her expensive clothes.

“Sorry,” he said.

“I’m not the one you owe an apology. We’ve discussed your drawings at the faculty meetings. Principal Conklin made it clear that next time you were to be sent to his office. Since you are not prepared to take my lesson seriously, please leave the room.”

Daniel packed his books slowly in hope Mr. Palumbo would change his mind. No such luck. All eyes stayed on him as he shuffled out the door. Standing in the empty hallway, Daniel wondered what to do next.

Only 10:00
A.M.
and the day was already a bust. If he went to the mall there was a chance he’d be caught playing hooky. Then, his stepfather would get dragged into this, a situation Daniel wanted to avoid at all cost.

2

Principal Conklin sat back in his ergonomically correct executive chair like a man who thought he ran the Seventh Fleet. He was in his fifties, wore a brown suit, and his arms were up and resting on his bald head, while his gut protruded like a Butterball turkey hanging from a sling. The leather squeaked as he rocked back and forth. Daniel associated the noise with a common bodily function.

Plaques and trophies from a distinguished career as a high school athlete and medals from military service decorated the office. On the desk were pictures of the principal’s wife and his two daughters, who no doubt got their good looks from the other side of the gene pool.

The man’s legendary gaze made you feel as though he knew everything you thought you’d gotten away with. As Conklin blustered on and on about school property and the taxpayer’s burden, Daniel considered his role in the scheme of life.

Not to be a jock, cheerleader, metal head, or standard-issue redneck increased the odds that you were a school geek. Soon, everyone would know what had transpired in Mr. Palumbo’s class. That was all he needed in a school where he could count his friends on one hand. Then the words, “your father,” broke him out of his trance.

“My father?” Daniel repeated, rejoining the discussion.

“Yes, Daniel, your father,” Conklin drawled. “Since your arrival, fourteen desks have been mutilated thanks to your hobby. Your pappy will pay for the damaged desks so that the good taxpayers of Glen Burnie County can rest assured their money is going toward books and teachers, and not for repairing the hobby of a juvenile delinquent.”

“It’s not like I took a hacksaw to those things. I can wash those drawings off with soap.”

“Those desks have grooves in them ’cause of your ballpoint. Son, I look good when the school looks good.”

“Look, I’ll never do it again, and I’ll pay for the desks out of my own money. I have a part-time job at Pathmark. There’s no need to bring my stepdad into this.”

“I respect a boy that fears his father. Means there’s hope for you, son. Tell you what … can you give me five hundred dollars by Monday?”

“Five hundred dollars? Those desks can’t cost five hundred dollars. Who are we buying them from, Dominic Tagliatore?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” Principal Conklin said.

“Look, my stepdad’s been out of work for a while,” Daniel said. “I don’t want to add to his troubles. Can’t we work something out? I’ll throw in extra money … we can call it interest. You have my word.”

Conklin considered the offer for an eternity. Daniel sat there tense, wishing for the words “it’s a deal” to come out the fat man’s lips.

“I have to submit a budget by Wednesday. I can’t take a chance that you won’t make due. Everything’s got to be by the book.”

“But if you’d just—”

Conklin hoisted himself out of his chair and opened the door. “No means the same now as it did five seconds ago. I’ve got to know for sure where the money’s coming from. Now get on, go to your next class.”

The boy left the office uncertain of what to do next. If a bolt of lightning had hit him right that second, he would have considered it a stroke of good luck.

3

Daniel liked stocking the aisle ends at Pathmark. In addition to the unobstructed view of the cashiers—of which Katie Millar was one—he usually stacked the sale items into intricate patterns, a more appealing labor than just placing boxes on an aisle shelf. He designed the stacks so that there would never be too many extractions from one area, thus bringing the construction down. Daniel employed pyramids, helixes, double helixes, and a few shapes of his own invention, which he was unaware that engineering students spent entire semesters on. The patrons deconstructed these temples of frugality without realizing they were part of a preordained strategy.

Daniel finished setting up boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios just as Adrian polished off his third low-fat ice cream sandwich.

“Your shift’s over,” Daniel said. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to watch me work?”

“Nope.”

Daniel glanced at register three where Katie Millar scanned items and made small talk with the locals.

“Well, go home or something,” Daniel said.

Adrian looked like the Antarctic explorer whose mission commander just ordered him to go for a stroll in the middle of July. Daniel glanced out the store’s big front windows at the clear night sky, but from his expression it was obvious Adrian saw a blizzard.

“I ain’t botherin’ no one. So what happened in Conklin’s office?” Adrian asked, changing the subject.

“He slung some bullshit. No, that’s not right … first he bored me to tears, then he slung the shit.”

Daniel thought about the actions that led to his predicament. The real world vanished when he drew pictures. His mind took him to better places, where the lines between good and evil, right and wrong were crystal clear. It was like stepping into a different universe.

“The school’s going to tell Clyde he owes them five hundred dollars for the desks,” Daniel said.

Adrian perked up. “No! Can’t you talk them out of it?”

“Only if I come up with the money by Monday. How much you got in your pocket?”

Adrian checked his pockets. He looked like a lost cause with crumbs on his lips and collar and cream dotting his ample chin. Daniel rolled his eyes.

“Hello … sarcasm,” Daniel snapped, handing his friend a napkin.

“Oh,” Adrian blinked, “no need to get snippy.”

“Sorry.” Daniel stole another glance at Katie. She saw him, smiled, and waved before resuming her scans.

“Conklin always hires his cousin to do carpentry jobs,” Adrian said. “Guy can’t keep regular work ’cause of the hooch.”

“Alcohol seems to screw me no matter who’s drinking it,” Daniel said.

“Spend the night at my house,” Adrian offered. “You can walk home with me.”

Daniel cocked a suspicious eyebrow at his friend. “Not for nothing, Ade, but you wouldn’t by any chance be in trouble with them Grundy boys again?”

Adrian’s face dropped all pretenses. “They got it in good for me, Danny.”

“Take a swing at them for once, Ade. Jeez, you outweigh both of them by twenty pounds.”

“I can’t. I don’t know why I get so scared. My feet don’t move. I feel heavy, like in a dream when you can’t run.”

Daniel felt a momentary disgust toward his friend. If only his own problems came in the stature of the Grundy boys.

“Ade, what are the odds that the Grundy boys are lying in wait for you, tonight?” Daniel asked. “They’re probably home tonight watching
WWE SmackDown.
I think their aunt’s in a cage match.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Why are you so sure they’re looking for you?”

“I didn’t let them copy off my math test.”

“You suck at math.”

“I got a C plus. They didn’t do as well. Like it’s my fault they’re stupid.”

“So, let them cheat.”

“Mama said it ain’t right to cheat or help a cheater.”

“Then let Mama come get you. Go home.”

“Aw hell, you just wanna walk with Katie alone after shift.”

“It’s the only chance I get anymore. She’s having lunch with the ‘in’ crowd these days.”

Daniel realized how much he had taken Katie for granted over the past two years. He thought they would be buds forever. Things were changing. As his desires for girls grew, he noticed Katie’s new interest in facial hair, driver’s permits, cars, and a voice in the low-octave range—all things he lacked. She was still friendly, but always asking him for his locker room–privileged facts about one guy or another: What does so-and-so say about me? Is so-and-so still seeing what’s-her-face? It was clear she saw Daniel mainly as a search engine.

“I appreciate your offer to sleep over, Ade, but that’ll just piss Clyde off more. He’s already madder than a hornet on good days.”

“Dan, please,” Adrian begged. “I’ll walk behind … or, up front. I won’t listen. Just don’t make me walk home alone.”

The shift was over. Katie began cashing out. Daniel threw the last few boxes on the pile and headed for the employees’ room.

“Danny?” Adrian implored.

“Fine. Walk behind us. Don’t talk.”

Daniel launched into a trot and nearly ran over his crush flying through the employees’ lounge.

“Jeez, Dan. Slow down,” Katie said. Her hazel eyes had a calming effect, even when she didn’t mean to. Her long auburn hair had developed a distinct scent of its own. Daniel was both numb and energized in her presence.

“Sorry. I was hoping to catch you.”

“Well, make it quick. I’m getting picked up.”

“Cool. Can I hitch?”

“Not my mom. Josh Lundgren.”

“Captain Baseball? What makes him so special?”

“He’s got a motorbike.”

“Oh. I was hoping we could talk.”

“About?”

“Uh … well, sorry about your blouse. The one you got ink on.”

Katie smiled—cancer and AIDS would be cured, Israel and Palestine would settle, and solar energy would be practical—to Daniel, everything would be okay.

“I heard you got sent to Conklin,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“Well, don’t worry. I switched desks in most of my classes so it won’t happen again.”

It was a bomb. Another perk of being Katie’s friend severed. No more secret notes. No more lingering scent from the previous class, her residual warmth on the seat. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Should he ask her not to switch? Promise never to draw again?

Instead, he said, “I see.”

“Look, Danny … I don’t know how else to say this, but … you got to stop watching me—in the hall at school, at lunch, here at work—I can feel your eyes on me. It makes me uncomfortable. I care about you, but not the way you want me to. I don’t see you as a ‘guy.’ No!… I didn’t…”

“I know what you mean,” Daniel whispered. The shrill beep of a scooter horn cut through the thin store windows.

“I hope we can still be friends,” she said.

“Sure. Of course.”

Katie danced away to Josh’s persistent tune. Daniel waited for the world to end. It stubbornly continued, so he grabbed his coat and left. Adrian followed.

4

Daniel and Adrian were halfway home when two large shadows burst out from behind the bushes near Mr. Randall’s house. Daniel’s first thought was that the Grundy boys watched too many
Our Gang
reruns. After all, who actually waited in the bushes anymore?

Both boys had white-blond hair and angelic blue eyes, yet they were no angels. Jim-Bob, the taller one, had been left back in the second and fourth grades and used his age and size advantage to inflict terror on his younger classmates. Elijah belonged in Daniel and Adrian’s grade; a prodigy in the Grundy home, he was the first and only of six siblings never to get left back. What everyone knew, except for the Grundys, was that this feat was accomplished by years of complaints from parents about the Grundy clan’s consistent cruelty toward the younger kids. The school decided to push the last of this brood out for the benefit of future generations.

Adrian was sweating like a race horse. His problem, as Daniel saw it, was he couldn’t stand not to be liked. Adrian never risked an action that might make someone angry. The Grundys’ animus disturbed him more than their beating. He was an unapologetic mama’s boy, the target of those who fed off the desire to be accepted.