The Fat Boy Chronicles (7 page)

Anyway, Paul wants us to act like we're selling merchandise for band, and then ask for a cigarette. The cigarette butts we found near the murder site were Marlboros, which is a common enough brand. I see them around school all the time. But Paul thinks if the cigarettes match up, it's a start. I wish he'd drop the whole thing and start acting normal again. When we played Super Smash, his mind was barely there.

Monday, 10–30

We're having a Halloween party at church Wednesday night, so I'm not going out in my old neighborhood. It's getting too dangerous over there anyway. One of my old neighbors told my mom that there are gangs running around, and she doesn't think many kids are going out this year. Seems ironic that we had a murder near our “safe” neighborhood, but Mom said that was not normal.

Tuesday, 10–31

Happy Halloween! I hope your twins have fun. I bet little Josh won't let you dress him up as a Raggedy Andy doll after this year. Three's the age limit for all that cutesy stuff for guys. Junebug (no offense, but I hope that's a nickname) won't mind it though. But if she's anything like my sister, she'll want to get all dressed up and be Cinderella at the ball. Or a cat. Why is it that all girls like to dress up like cats? I was a hobo for at least four years, and then my mom got the bright idea that it would be fun to make my costumes. I'm kinda bummed I'm not going out this year. I miss all the candy. Mom bought extra bags of candy corn so I won't miss out too much. She also bought bags of Snickers, which are my favorites.

Wednesday, 11–1

Mom finished my costume in time, so I got to dress up for the party. Not many of the teenagers wore costumes, but I didn't care because the little kids really thought I was the dad from
The Incredibles
. It was hilarious. Paul showed up and didn't say much about the murder. He was almost his old self. He didn't dress up, but he ran around acting like a werewolf. Everyone was cracking up about it. I noticed he had a big bruise on his face, but I pretended I didn't see it. He probably fell off his bike or something. If he didn't, it's really none of my business anyway. He seemed happy enough though. Almost hyper. He told me later he had a girlfriend. That explained a lot. Like why he wasn't so obsessed about the murder. He said somebody called social services about his mother. He asked if I had told anyone about her. I shrugged and said I didn't say anything to anybody. Paul said things got worse for him afterwards. I didn't have a chance to ask him what he meant, because a bunch of little kids jumped all over us. Paul ran after them and tried to scare them. We were all laughing like crazy.

The highlight of the party for me was the food. A parent committee brought in candy apples and brownies and stuff, plus we all brought bags of candy to share. I know I'm too fat already, but everyone would have thought I was nuts if I didn't gorge myself with candy, like a normal kid. Once I started eating, it was like I couldn't stop. When I got home, my stomach really hurt. My mom asked if I had a good time, and I said, “No, I ate too much.” She brought me something to settle my stomach, but it didn't help. Guess that's
what Halloween is all about for kids, getting sick on tons of candy and then feeling miserable afterwards. Same thing used to happen to me on campouts in the Cub Scouts. I would eat so many roasted marshmallows and s'mores, I'd always end up feeling like I wanted to puke. One time it went the other way, and I was so embarrassed I almost quit the Scouts.

Friday, 11–3

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Nate is a total jerk. I don't know if you know him or not, but he is. I can usually ignore people like him, but he is nothing but a bully. That is all I am going to say about him. That makes me sound like Forrest Gump. I just hope you don't have him in any of your classes, for your sake.

I am writing this in gym. We didn't have to dress out because there's a game tonight and the coaches are getting all the stuff ready. The football players are showing off for the cheerleaders in our class while the rest of us are doing homework or playing around. No one is paying attention to us. We could be planning an escape from prison and the coaches wouldn't notice. As long as we stay in our cage, everything is fine. I don't really know very many people in here, and some of the guys say things about me, so no one talks to me much. This week can't get over fast enough and neither can this class. Not yours but the one I am sitting in right now.

Since Spencer doesn't sit with Allen and me at lunch any more, Nate decided to resume his usual antics. He pulled the top of his pants down so his underwear and top of his crack showed, then he stuffed his book bag in his shirt and walked around the lunchroom. Allen and I ignored him until he grabbed a handful of chips from Allen's tray and started stuffing them in his face. Nate made mouth noises like an idiot and had the entire cafeteria cracking up. Allen started crying and finally ran out of the lunchroom. I told Nate he was a stupid moron and that only cowards make fun of other people. I didn't care what people thought of me, I had to say something. Then Nate grabbed my hand, like he was gay, and blinked at me. “Hey sweetheart,” he said. “You sure have some great–looking boobies.” Then he looked at his friends, sitting a couple of tables away. “Slim Jim is upset,” he said while batting his eyes. Kids started laughing, which usually makes Nate worse, but then Spencer came over and told Nate to knock it off. “Leave those guys alone,” he said. “They're not hurting anyone.” Nate smirked and acted like he was going to smart mouth Spencer, but with Spencer standing there all cool, and the added fact that he is a starting player on the JV soccer team, Nate patted Spencer on the back, and said, “Okay, that's cool, man. I get what you're trying to say. Those guys aren't worth my time.” Then Nate saluted Spencer and went back to his table. Spencer gave me a look that said, “Sorry, I tried.” But I felt pretty good that Spencer had taken up for Allen and me. Other than my parents and a few friends at youth group, no one had ever done that before.

Monday, 11–6

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If it isn't one friend it's another. Now Allen doesn't want to go back to the cafeteria. Not because of Nate, but because someone told his parents that he ran out of there crying, and now they are really steamed. They went to the principal's office and demanded that he do something about the way kids act at lunch. The principal called an assembly over the whole issue and talked about treating one another with respect. It felt like the entire student body was watching Allen and me, sitting like two fat dweebs in the freshman section. It was about the most awful ordeal I have ever been through. At lunch, we sat alone, hardly speaking, feeling like outcasts, like the untouchables we read about last year when we were studying the caste system in India. I went from Mr. Incredible to Mr. Untouchable pretty fast. The entire school looks weird now, like a beige and gray prison haunted by sneering pod people.

Then, to make matters worse, the principal called our parents in, and now we all have to have a big meeting about the entire incident. I begged my parents not to get involved, but Spencer told his parents the kids were really mean to me too. “Why didn't you say anything?” my mom asked. I tried to tell her that ratting out the other kids would only make matters worse. That it's not as bad for me as it is for Allen. But they want to meet with the principal anyway. And they want to meet with Nate and his parents. I can't believe Spencer told his parents about the lunchroom disaster. Doesn't he realize he's made things worse? My life was hell before, and now it's going to be
like living in ten hells. In math class, Nate whispered that I better not rat on him in the meeting. “Unless you're a big kindergarten baby and need Mommy and Daddy to hold your dick for you,” he sneered. Monday's the meeting, and my mom offered to drive Allen and me to school. Gee, golly, I feel lucky.

Maybe we'll move again this weekend.

Tuesday, 11–7

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We have a study hall in math today because Mr. L's sick, and the sub didn't know what else to do. I'm caught up on all my work except this journal, which goes on forever. So, now I'm working on English in math.

We had our big meeting this morning—I had to miss science class because of it. Nate glared at me when the office helper came to get me out of class. It was a long walk down the hall because I didn't know what to expect, but the meeting went much better than I thought it would.

Mr. Gardner asked what happened, and I explained about Nate (Spencer had already ratted on him) and how his making fun of us got all the kids aroLife is so unfair. I wish I Life is so unfair. I wish I Life is so unfair. I wish I und us laughing. Mr. Gardner wanted to know who the kids were, and I said it's a different group every day, and that it would be too hard to single out anyone. Allen then piped up and said if Nate found out we told on him, he might beat the crap out of us. Allen said he wanted to forget about the whole thing, and I agreed.

Allen's dad said he wanted to have a meeting with Nate and his parents. Allen and I tried to convince him it would be the biggest mistake in the world to do that. My dad said we need to learn how to deal with Nate, because the world is full of Nates.

Mr. Gardner is a pretty cool guy, and he said that he understood how we felt, because he was a fat kid in high school. He's still pretty heavy, but no one wanted to point out the obvious. Besides, it's not as bad for adults, especially principals. I know it's a stereotype, but I bet there are more fat principals than skinny ones. Let's face it, kids are more accepting of heavy adults than heavy kids. Half the parents at our school are overweight, but you don't really notice. With kids it's different—there aren't as many of us, though Mr. Gardner said that's starting to change, which isn't a good thing.

Allen's parents said they thought the teachers should do a better job monitoring the students' behavior, and that Allen and I shouldn't have to worry about being picked on all the time. Mr. Gardner agreed. He said he's really been on the teachers' cases about watching for kids harassing others. He thinks he sees an improvement and hasn't had any real complaints until this incident. (I wanted to bring up Mr. L and how Nate gets away with murder in his class, but didn't think it would change anything.) Mr. Gardner said he's going to put more teachers on cafeteria duty now that's he's aware of the problem. I wanted to point out that more teachers wouldn't help that much, because most of them just stand around talking to one another, rather than watching the kids. Unless you have teachers sitting on lifeguard stands and carrying paintball guns, kids are going to get away with stuff.

My dad must have read my mind, because he said putting more teachers in the cafeteria doesn't really fix the problem. He said moral issues, like how to treat one another, should be discussed more often. My dad suggested teachers discuss some of these issues in homeroom. That way kids could talk about things like bullying and low self-esteem, and then maybe kids would get a glimpse of how the picked-on kids feel.

Mr. Gardner said he thought my dad's ideas were all good ones, but because it's a public school, the law won't allow that kind of teaching. It's too much like religion and there isn't time with all that the teachers have to cover. My dad shook his head and said, “That's ridiculous. I'm not talking about teaching religion, but simple respect for humanity. Since when is the golden rule religion?”

Mr. Gardner again agreed with my dad, but said any teaching outside the curriculum would get a teacher fired, so most teachers stick with what is safe. I thought about some of the things you say in class, and they definitely are not safe. Like what you said about Pap and how he picks on Huck Finn. He bullies Huck because he's insecure about himself. That made me see Nate in a whole new light. I think he picks on people because he wants to look cool in front of the girls. If he thought he was already cool, he wouldn't need to show off to prove it. That's what's neat about literature—it deals with real–life issues, and we're allowed to discuss them because it's “in the curriculum.” Allen's mom wanted to come and sit at our table with us, but Allen told her, “NO WAY!” I mean, how embarrassing would that be? Doesn't she remember what it was like being in high school? It couldn't have been that long ago. Just because we're freshmen doesn't mean we should be treated like elementary kids. Even my parents thought that was too much.

At the end of the meeting, Mr. Gardner said he would stand around in our lunch period for a while, to make sure things didn't get out of hand. He must have seen my reaction, because he said he wouldn't make it obvious why he was in there. I thought that was pretty cool of him, even though I don't think Allen and I need protecting. But at least our parents feel better about the whole thing. And I know that for the next month I'll be answering the question, “How was lunch today, Jimmy?”

Thursday, 11–9

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It's been two days since the meeting and nothing much has changed in the lunchroom. Mr. Gardner walked in for a minute, but he didn't stay like he said he would. I didn't even notice any new teachers on duty—the same two were still there, standing near the lady that sells cookies. The only thing that helped was that Spencer came by and talked to Allen and me for a couple of minutes, then went over and sat with some other soccer players. But I think Nate got the point.

My parents asked me if Mr. Gardner came around like he said he would, and I just said yes, because I didn't want to get them all upset and then call Allen's parents. With kids and their problems, things usually work out—it's just a matter of time. Most parents are too impatient to understand that.