The Second Trial (22 page)

By the first day of fall, he was in the principal's office.

“By all reports,” Mr. Kindermann said, interlacing his fingers, “you aren't doing very well in this school. But your records from Saskatoon show you can do quite well – when you want to.”

Danny slouched.

“Is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

Danny stared. “I guess I'm not who you think I am.”

“Well then,” he replied, his tone conversational. “Who are you?”

“I'm a ‘mere shadow of my former self.' How's that sound?”

The principal arched his brows. “Many of our students struggle with difficult issues, and we like to give them a little slack, time to settle in. But you've been here almost a month, and it's time to work. So, if you don't want to tell
me
anything, then let me
ask
you – what can I do to help? What can the school do?”

“Help? I've had nothing
but
help. And where's it gotten me? Right here. I used to be something. And now I'm
nothing
.”

Mr. Kindermann leaned back. “That seems harsh.”

“You have
no idea
,” Danny growled. He stalked out without another word.

Mr. Kindermann saw Susan shortly after his meeting with Danny. He outlined the concerns.

Susan nodded. “Yes, we've had…family problems…Severe family problems.”

“Yes.” He paused, but Susan didn't elaborate. “Perhaps, we should move away from academics, and look at the broader picture. Have you considered counseling? We have a school psychologist. He's very good and experienced. Would David see him?”

“I'll speak to him about it, but it's…complicated.”

He smiled. “Let me know what you decide.”

Susan broached the topic at dinner. “It would probably be better if you talk to someone.”

“Forget it.”

“David –”

“I'm not David!”

“If you're not David,” Susan shouted back, “then we're all dead! Don't you see? It
can't
be any other way!”

“Well maybe we should just test that out,
Catherine
! Let's see who's right!”

Julia leapt up from the table. “You leave her alone! You're no better than Dad!” She rushed to her mother's side and circled her arms around her. Danny felt his sister's burning hatred. He turned and ran up the stairs two at a time, threw himself face down on the bed, and wished he could cry himself blind.

Danny didn't go to school the next day, or the next. Every morning he'd leave with his backpack and head toward the school. But as soon as he was out of sight, he'd detour to the mall. His four-dollar weekly allowance bought him return bus fare to downtown. He'd bum around the streets, going in and out of shops, eyeing merchandise he used to be able to buy.

Just because I can't afford it,
he thought,
doesn't mean I shouldn't
have it….

He starting lifting small things – the pink eraser he always got at the beginning of term, a chocolate bar, some batteries. He'd smile as he shifted the five-finger bargains into his backpack on the bus ride home.

Susan received the call on the fourth morning.

“We need a note from the doctor if your child misses more than three days of school,” the secretary announced curtly.

“He hasn't missed any school so far,” she replied.

“Tuesday October first. Wednesday October second. Thursday October third.”

“I…see,” Susan said. “Perhaps you could make an appointment for him with your school counselor? As soon as possible?”

“Fine. Make sure he comes to the office on Tuesday. The counselor's a busy man.”

Danny heard his mother climbing the stairs. She didn't even knock. He turned his music to maximum volume. She confronted him, hand on hips. She didn't look away until he glowered at her.

“What?” he said. He'd already prepared himself. A lecture. And then a fight.

She gathered herself and then slowly let her hands slide down her hips. She waited until Danny eventually removed one earphone. “I love you, David. The school counselor's going to meet with you next week,” she said simply. “It's Thanksgiving, and I'm going to give thanks for the wonderful things I have in my life – you and Julia.” She paused. “Don't give up on me now. And don't give up on yourself.”

Chapter 13

Danny threw off his headphones and couldn't get out of the house fast enough, but he and Buddy had hardly made it to the sidewalk when he heard Papa Joe.

“David! Buddy!” he called, his smile like a crease across his face. Buddy tugged at the leash to see the old man.

Papa Joe seemed surer on his feet and leaned less heavily on his canes as he reached to pet the border collie.

“I thought you two'd be gone by now. I thought ya were moving.”

“Didn't work out,” Danny mumbled.

“I was kinda thinkin' that, when I saw your momma planting them tulips. I said to myself, maybe they're gonna stick around.”

“Yeah.”

Papa Joe straightened. “Well, if you and Buddy here ever wanna come by 'n' visit, you know an old man'd like company.”

“Sure,” replied Danny. “See ya around.”

“Bye, David,” Papa Joe said, straightening his cap.

When they returned, his mom and Julia were on the floor beside the coffee table, playing cards. His mom's voice had softened. “Join us for some gin rummy?” she asked.

“Nah. I'm gonna watch TV.”

“Okay. Maybe we'll come down later with pop and chips.”

“Sure,” he said. He paused to take in the scene. They looked at ease in the peaceful living room. He was tempted to stay, but it felt too awkward to change his mind now. Buddy padded downstairs with him. Danny sat on the couch, and the dog dropped his head in the boy's lap. Danny stroked Buddy's head and said, “Hey Buddy-boy, I'm gonna be nicer to Mom and Jewel. It's not their fault we're stuck here.” But he didn't know how to start.

Bargain hunters packed Value Mart. The signs advertised
Thanksgiving Holiday Sale! Everything Reduced!

“We all need clothes,” Mom said. “David, your size is over there – see what you can find.”

He moved along racks jammed past capacity. Stray garments and hangers littered the floor. He knew he'd grown – his old clothes were short in the sleeves and legs now – but he hadn't a clue what size to look for. While rummaging around, Danny spotted a familiar face. It was a girl from his art class – the very pretty girl whom he'd noticed, even though most of the time he was busy being invisible.

To his surprise, he liked art because he could keep his mind and his hands busy at the same time. Sometimes he forgot to be angry. The teacher, Mr. Thompson, was a reservoir of energy and ideas and praised students when the results were good and even when the results weren't so good.

And Danny had heard him encouraging this girl. “You have talent – talent and inspiration,” he'd said. Danny had tried to peek at her work, but she sat three rows over.

Now here she was, her long hair, sleek and black, hanging loose over her shoulders. Her skin was the color of coffee, unmarred except for a scar running diagonally across the corner of her left eyebrow.

She stopped flipping hangers and caught his eye.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he replied.

She smiled, her eyes as deep as dark chocolate. “Art class, right?”

“Yeah. Art class.” He blushed, suddenly embarrassed at being in a thrift store, looking at other people's abandoned clothes.

“Great store, huh? I come here all the time,” she said. “You?”

“Ah…my first time,” he replied, his tongue thick.

“You're new here.”

“Yeah.”

“Where ya from?”

“Saskatoon.”

“Really? I have loads of relatives there.” She paused. “But you probably never went to the Flying Dust First Nation Reserve,” she said.

“No,” replied Danny. He rubbed his damp palms against his thighs.

Silence hung between them, and the girl started searching through the racks again. Danny noticed his mom approaching. He started to move away.

The girl looked up and smiled. “See ya.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

By the next day's art class, Danny had decided he didn't want to avoid her anymore. He watched out of the corner of his eye, and paid special attention when Mr. Thompson bent to look at her work.

“Nixxie, blending colors with oil pastels just creates mud. You have to layer your image – like this.” Mr. Thompson picked out some pastels and made a few marks on some scrap paper. “It just takes a little practice.”

“It looks so easy when you do it,” she replied.

“It's just practice, Nixxie.” Mr. Thompson moved on.

Her name is Nixxie,
thought Danny.

For the rest of the class, his eyes were on her almost as much as they were on his project. He copied her hand movements, but all he got was a brown smear.

“David, try layering the color. Don't stir it around like a pot of soup,” the teacher suggested.

Across the room, Nixxie was listening.

Danny brought home two pieces of paper. One confirmed the appointment with Mr. Ishii – Wednesday, after lunch. The same time as art class.

The other was his report card.

Mom looked at it and then went upstairs to take a shower.

Danny's mouth turned down as he entered the counselor's office. He slouched, his baseball cap adjusted to shield his eyes.

“Cap off, please,” Mr. Ishii said mildly from behind the desk. “Please be on time in the future.”

Danny hesitated, then removed his cap, but didn't look at the counselor.

“A few people have asked me to see you, but it looks like you don't want to be here.”

“Damn right.”

Silence.

Mr. Ishii said, “You are entitled to your opinions, and in this room you are entitled to express those opinions freely, but not in objectionable language.” The counselor's calm, even tone didn't falter. Danny counted off the seconds in his head.

“You don't seem happy here. Would you like to tell me about it?”

“No.”

“All right.” Mr. Ishii stood. “You can go now.”

Danny blinked and looked up.

“I'll book another appointment in two weeks, but I'd prefer you come only if you want to. Otherwise, we're both wasting our time.”

Danny left, still surprised at the meeting.
He's actually going to
give me a choice?
he wondered, as he walked to art class.

At supper, his mom said she'd been thinking a lot about a job. “So here's what I came up with,” she said. “I'm going to start volunteering at Julia's school. They always need volunteers – in the library, as teachers' aides, organizing activities.” Her tone became more confident. “I am skilled and good at my work.”

“But how will that earn any money?” Julia asked.

“I noticed the school secretary is pregnant. She'll start maternity leave at Christmas, and they'll need a new secretary in January. I'm going to work, and smile, and be polite and reliable, and prove myself – and I'm going to get them to offer me the position without needing references.”

“And we'll get off social assistance?”

“Yes. The pay will be reasonable, and we'd have benefits. Better than social assistance.”

Danny's thoughts shot to all the things that could go wrong. “What if they don't hire you? What if they've already got somebody?”

Mom looked hard at Danny. “So, what am I supposed to do? Sit around and wait for a job to land in my lap?” Her voice had an edge to it. “Do nothing? Just coast through the rest of my life?”

She didn't need to add the words,
“Like you
?”

Danny slapped down his uneaten burger. His cutlery clattered to the floor, but he didn't stop to pick it up. He stomped up each stair and slammed the door behind him. He dropped onto the bed, flung his forearm across his closed eyes, and willed the tears away. After some minutes, he lifted his arm and looked at his watch.

Wednesday, October ninth. They hadn't even been here two months, and it felt like two lifetimes.

October ninth. His dad's forty-first birthday.

Susan had found some nicer clothes at the thrift shop, and now she looked good in slacks and a sweater that weren't too big. While Danny was making toast, she said, “I'll be taking the bus with Julia to and from the school every day now. Don't forget to lock the door on your way out.”

Like we have anything to steal.
He shrugged and said, “Okay.”

Julia flipped her hair into a ponytail and tugged playfully on her mother's sleeve as they left.

Danny made sure there was food and water for the dog. “Sorry I can't be home at lunch to let you out, Bud, but I'll be as quick as I can after school. See ya later, Buddy-boy.”

He stepped outside into icy wind and rain. Autumn had passed, and the first sting of winter was in the air. Leaves lay in scattered piles and decayed in the gutters. By the time he got home from school, the weather had shifted to freezing rain. He took Buddy for a quick run around the condos, but they were both drenched and shivering by the time they got back. His wet second-hand jacket smelled of its last owner. Danny used it to towel off Buddy before abandoning it. Just then, his mom and Julia burst in, laughing as they shrugged off their dripping coats and fingered back their wet hair.

Danny was startled to see how much Julia looked like their mom. She was growing tall and willowy and had Mom's hazel eyes.

“Hi,” Mom said cheerfully. “How was school?”

Danny glowered. “Cold and wet.”

Susan walked up to her son and rested her hands on his shoulders. Her eyes were shining, and her voice was strong. “Davey-boy, it feels
so good
to be back working. Doing things for – and with – other people. Getting ahead. Come along with us, David. Let's be a family again.”