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Authors: David Lubar

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BOOK: B005N8ZFUO EBOK
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T
he statement was so strange, I didn’t even react to it for a moment. Finally, I said, “What are you talking about? I don’t have any power.”
Lucky snorted out a laugh. “Hey—where have I heard that before? It sure sounds familiar. We didn’t admit our own powers until you forced us to accept the truth. It’s the same with you. You have a talent, too. You can’t see yours. But we sure can.”
“That’s crazy,” I told him.
“There’s that word again. You know I don’t like it.” He shook his head. “I’ll ask you the same question you asked us.
Why are you here?
”
“Because I got kicked out of a bunch of other schools,” I said.
“But
why
?” Lucky asked.
“I talk back. You know that. I’ve got a smart mouth.”
“Big deal. A lot of kids talk back,” Lucky said. “Just about every kid on the planet talks back. But you go way beyond that. You have a gift. You know how to hurt someone. You know how to dig deep and hit a nerve.”
“It’s like Torchie’s grandfather,” Flinch said. “The one he told us about who always pats him where he’s hurting. Except you do your hurting with words. Whether you mean to or not, you always hit the target.”
“Crazy,” I said again.
Lucky reached out and grabbed both my shoulders, then leaned forward and put his face right in front of mine. “You hate this, Martin. You hate having someone in your face—especially an adult. And when someone gets too close, you hit him hard. That’s your talent. You know where it hurts.”
“Stop it.” I tried to pull away.
“No. Say some painful words, Martin. Hurt me. Prove it. I’m in your face. You hate this. Let me have it. Cut my heart out.” He leaned so close his forehead butted up against mine.
I jerked against his grip, but he held on, his fingers digging into my shoulder muscles. I stared at a face that was so close I couldn’t even focus on it, hating the feel of his hot breath washing over me. The words shot out. “You’re pretty cocky for a kid who still wets his bed.”
I felt the fingers go loose. Lucky jerked away from me.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t know where those words had come from, but I’d have given anything I owned for a chance to take them back. “I didn’t mean—”
Lucky swallowed hard, and his cheeks grew red. “That’s … okay … It doesn’t matter. I had to prove it to you.”
“Is that true?” Torchie asked.
“Shut up,” Flinch said to him.
I knew, by the look on Lucky’s face, that it was true. He’d risked humiliation to show me that I had some sort of power. Even so, I didn’t want to believe him. I wanted to pound his face with my fists and scream that he was wrong.
“Your power is pretty obvious,” Cheater added. “Once we figured it out, it was really amazing watching you in action.”
“No …” I tried to protest. But in my heart, I knew anything I said would be a lie. My world had been yanked on its side. Or flipped inside out. The past flooded over me, all those times I’d lashed out. All the pain I’d caused. Striking. Slashing. A thousand injured faces littered the trail of destruction I’d carved.
“Cheer up,” Cheater said. “You’re one of us.”
He was right. I had a hidden talent—my very own psychic power. Wonderful. What a great gift. I could jab a knife of words into anyone’s heart. I couldn’t see how that would make any difference right now. What good was the power to make people angry? “I don’t get it,” I said. “This won’t help.”
“Use your power in reverse,” Flinch said. “Just like Torchie did when he put out a fire. Instead of finding the thing that hurts the most, find the thing that makes the person feel good.”
This was almost too much for me. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You’ll have to,” Torchie said.
The bell rang. Lunch was over.
I
n prison movies, they talk about the long walk—that’s the one-way stroll the guy takes from his cell to the electric chair. I was taking a long walk from the lunchroom to the principal’s office.
My mind was a blur of thoughts. I had a power. I still only half believed it. It was wonderful and terrible at the same time. And it almost had to be true. How else could I have managed to so deeply annoy so many teachers? Not to mention my parents and just about every other adult who’d ever tried to get close to me.
Lucky had proved it. He’d allowed me to humiliate him in front of the others. Lucky, who in his way was as fiercely proud as Cheater, had done this for me. Whether he cared about Edgeview or not, I had to try to do this for him and for all the rest of them. And for myself.
Could I reverse my power? Could I make someone feel good? I reached the end of the hall and put my hand on the doorknob. Another question caught my attention. Was it right? Was it okay for me to use this power to get what I wanted?
I’d told Cheater it was okay.
But was it?
I stepped into the office. Principal Davis was waiting for me. “Nice shirt,” I said, trying to tell him something that would make him feel good.
He frowned and ignored my comment. I realized it had been a poor
attempt. I hadn’t looked into his deepest fears and hopes, I’d just blurted out a dumb compliment.
“In there,” he said, stepping away before I had a chance to get close to him and try again. “And for heaven’s sake, try to be something other than an annoying little monster for once in your life.”
I walked into the room and found the inspectors seated around a table. “Come in,” a man in a brown suit said. “Have a seat.” He was wearing a bow tie. Wonderful.
“Thanks.” I pulled out a chair and sat down, then tried to figure out who was in charge. The leader seemed to be the woman across the table—the one in the gray suit.
“Hello, Martin,” she said as she held out her hand. “I’m Dr. Harper.”
“Hi.” I reached out and took her hand. As our fingers met, I knew what I wanted to say. The knowledge stunned me for a moment. Oh man. It was sitting right in my head. I’d actually seen her deepest failure. She’d spent years trying to get a job with a textbook company, but they kept turning her down. The words formed in my mind.
Well, you may never make it to the book company, but you’re probably skilled enough to get a job at a miserable rat hole like Edgeview.
I actually bit my tongue—not hard, but enough to keep the words from spilling out. Dr. Harper gave me an odd look. I realized I was still holding her hand. I let go. As our fingers drew apart, I realized something else. She’d wanted to have children. That was her deepest desire. Past that, I glimpsed one other image buried within her. She was proud of her eyes. She was smart and serious and dedicated and hardworking. But she was also very human and very proud of her eyes.
Other words came to mind, replacing the attack I had almost unleashed.
Gee, you have nice eyes. They’re just like my mom’s.
It would be so easy. If I said that, she’d have to like me. With the right words, I could get her to do whatever I wanted. I knew for sure I could control her. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in my mind.
A tingle ran through my scalp.
“So, Martin,” Dr. Harper said, “tell us what it’s like for you at
Edgeview. Don’t be shy. Tell us everything you think is important. We want to know what’s good and what’s bad about your school.”
I looked around the table. They all sat ready with their pens and clipboards, waiting to hear me speak. The man to my left was close enough that I knew his deepest sorrows and desires. The same for the man on the right. It would be so easy. If I wanted to, I could become their favorite kid in the world just by telling them the things they needed to hear. They’d love me. I’d own them. I faced the woman with the beautiful eyes.
I started talking.
I spent nearly half an hour in that room. When I left, I found Principal Davis pacing in the outer office. “What did you say?” he asked.
“The truth.”
“Well, I might as well pack up and leave.” He groaned and hurried into the room with the inspectors. As the door closed behind him, I could hear his nervous chatter. “Now, remember, that’s just one student. There are dozens of wonderful kids here. Martin can be a bit abrasive at times. He’s actually one of our most difficult cases. Don’t let that bother you.”
I left the office. Bloodbath and a couple of his gang were lined up on chairs just inside the door. I guess Principal Davis wanted to talk with them. I walked past, trying not to catch anyone’s eye.
As I went down the hall, I heard footsteps. Two pairs. Following me. One big and heavy pair of feet, one small pair. I walked toward the stairs. The footsteps sped up. Before I got to the steps, Bloodbath reached me, grabbed my shoulder, and spun me around.
“You bastard,” he said, grabbing me by the shirt. He shoved me against the wall.
L. BLOODBATH
 
 
 
From Lester Bloodbath’s wastebasket:
“
W
hat?” I asked, looking desperately around, hoping to spot a teacher. There was no sign of help. The halls were empty.
Bloodbath turned his wrists and dug his knuckles hard into my collarbone. “I don’t know how you did it. But it was you. I’ve seen you with those freaks. You ruined everything. Now I’m going to ruin your face.”
Behind him, Lip laughed like a crazed hyena. Panic nearly shut down my mind, but I fought against it and used the only weapon I could. I stared at Bloodbath and I knew the darkest fears inside his dark heart. I pointed at Lip. “You going to let him laugh at you that way?” I glanced toward Lip, still bracing for the punch from Bloodbath that would snap my ribs like dry spaghetti. “Man, you shouldn’t laugh at him like that, Lip. Don’t you have any respect?”
Bloodbath glared at Lip and loosened his grip on my shirt. Lip stood, his mouth open. My words must have caught him so much by surprise that he couldn’t think up a response. His silence looked like an admission of guilt. Maybe part of what I’d said was true. It didn’t matter. Just as long as Bloodbath thought it was true. I knew, as only I could know, that Bloodbath hated the merest hint that someone might laugh at him. I didn’t know how it started. I didn’t know where or why. But I knew that this was his one gigantic button—the sore, unhealed wound. This was what you pressed to set him off. To laugh at Lester Bloodbath was to die.
Lip was doomed.
I could slip down the hall and flee to safety while Bloodbath was kicking the crap out of his pathetic little shadow. Bloodbath reached out and grabbed Lip by the arm. He raised a fist.
No. This wasn’t the way it should be.
“Let him go,” I said. “How stupid are you? He wasn’t laughing at you.” I shook my head. “What an idiot. You are a true moron, Lester.” Then I laughed at him. I whooped and roared with all I had in me, striking him with a mocking cackle that echoed through the halls.
I must have been an idiot.
Bloodbath tossed Lip aside. He whirled back at me. Lip bounced off the opposite wall, staggered, caught his balance, then scurried away. There was nothing for me to do but put up a fight. Even so, I figured I was going to end up with a lot more broken bones than Flinch had gotten.
Bloodbath charged at me, pulling back his right fist for a punch. The look in his face—it was the look of a bully who was about to do damage. It was the look of a bully about to feast on pain.
A jolt ripped through my gut. It wasn’t fear. Fear wasn’t in the hallway. I was jolted by Bloodbath’s expression. I’d seen that same look so often on my father’s face. The face of a bully. All my life, I’d lied to myself. I’d pretended it was something else. But my father had whipped me like a dog, only he’d done it with words. And, bully that he was, he’d enjoyed it.
Rage guided me. I shot out my own right fist. It connected straight with Bloodbath’s jaw. I don’t know which of us was more surprised.
Bloodbath dropped so fast it looked like he’d been anchored to the floor with rubber bands. I froze, waiting for the aftershock of our collision. Slowly, I realized that the fight—this fight, at least—was over.
Unbelievable. No, very believable, I realized as the answer came to me. “Flinch …” I whispered. All those hours throwing punches. All that practice. I’d developed one heck of a right hook. It had sure made an impression on Bloodbath. He was stretched flat out on his back, his
eyes clouded like those of a dead fish. A low moan escaped his lips, along with a trickle of spit. Maybe he’d never been hit before. Probably not. Who would have dared to?
Who, indeed?
Resisting the urge to step on Bloodbath’s chest, I walked past him. Lip stared at me from around the corner, his eyes so wide they reminded me of Ping-Pong balls.
“Have a nice day,” I said. I turned away from Lip and headed upstairs toward my class. I was just in time for the end of science.
“Well,” Cheater asked as I plopped down on the rug, “did you get them angry?”
“Nope,” I said.
“So you said nice things to them?” Torchie asked.
I shook my head. “Not that, either.”
“You didn’t use your power?” Lucky asked.
“I didn’t use it, and I didn’t let it use me. I took another route. I just told them the truth.”
“And what would that be?” Lucky asked.
“The truth is that Edgeview isn’t a bad idea, but the teachers could do a lot better job if the really dangerous kids were sent someplace else. Not everyone who’s here should be here. I told them that most of us just wanted to learn and to fit in, but that it was hard when there was a small gang of bullies who terrorized the rest of us.”
“That’s it?” Torchie asked.
I shook my head. “Nope. I told them one other thing. There had to be a way to get out. There always had to be hope, no matter how long someone had been here. One chance at an evaluation isn’t enough. Let a kid prove he’s ready to go back to his own school. After a month, after six months or a year. Whenever he feels he’s ready, he should have the chance.”
Lucky sighed. “I hope they listen to you about the bullies.”
They did.
A week later, Bloodbath and most of his gang got transferred. I’m
not sure if it was to another school or just some kind of detention place. Maybe they all just got sent home. It didn’t matter, as long as they were gone. As Bloodbath was leaving, Flinch started dancing in front of him, calling him names. Bloodbath tried to hit him, but Flinch just kept ducking and dodging. After every dodge, he’d reach out and tap Bloodbath on the face with his left hand. Just light taps. He didn’t sock him with the cast on his right hand. After a while, Bloodbath looked like one of those boxers who’s gotten way out of shape and shouldn’t be fighting. He was panting and gasping. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
We went up to the room so we could watch from the window as Bloodbath and his buddies were loaded onto a bus. I smiled when I recognized the driver. He’d keep that group under control.
“There’s one thing I don’t get,” Torchie said after the bus had pulled out of sight.
“What’s that?”
“Why did you ask them to set up a way out? I mean, we don’t want to break up. You don’t want to leave us.”
I didn’t answer him right away.
“Martin,” Cheater said. “You don’t want to go away, do you?”
“I think you already know the answer to that,” I said.
“Maybe Cheater does,” Torchie said. “But I sure don’t.”
“You’ve been great,” I said. “All of you. You’re the first real friends I’ve had. But my family … All these years, I’ve really screwed things up.”
“Tell me about it,” Torchie said. “I did the same thing. There isn’t a piece of furniture in the whole house without burn marks.”
“You should see my place,” Trash said.
I nodded, thinking about some of the more awful moments from the past. “I almost can’t blame my dad for hating me.” I gasped as my own words sunk in, squeezing my chest into a tight knot. For a minute, I couldn’t talk. I’d never admitted that particular truth before.
“It’s time to try to fix things,” I said. “I could hide here. It would be
easy. But I can’t. I have to go home. Maybe there’s no way to get Dad to like me. I don’t know. But at least I can be there for my sister.”
Torchie nodded.
“It takes at least a month to go through all the steps,” Cheater said. “That’s what I heard. So at least you’ll be around that long.”
“And we’ll have fun,” Lucky said.
“Lots of fun,” Trash said. He floated a handful of quarters out of Lucky’s pocket and dropped one in front of each of us.
“Oh yeah,” I said, looking at my friends. “We’ll have fun. This is going to be a month to remember.”
And it was.
I
t took me a bit more than two months to get out of Edgeview. Old habits are hard to break. But I showed them, finally, that I was fit to return to a regular school. I got out in the middle of May. The school year was almost over. Part of me wanted to wait and finish out the year at Edgeview, but I guess I knew the time had come to move on. It was good to get home. My sister Teri made dinner for me the night I got back. It must have been rough for her while I was away. She looked terrible when I first saw her. But Dad got off her back as soon as he had me around for a target.
I’d hoped he’d be less angry, now that I was acting better. But he almost seemed annoyed that he didn’t have anything to get mad about. I don’t know if I’ll ever get things straightened out between us. But if I fail, at least I’ll know it’s not all my fault. Maybe he’d have been no different even if I’d never talked back. There’s no way to find out. And no real point in wondering.
The guys write me all the time, telling me what’s going on in their lives. I write back, of course. Trash sends me drawings. He’s really got a gift for art. Flinch sends me jokes. It wouldn’t surprise me if he ended up on television one of these days. Lucky sends me all kinds of little stuff. In his last note, he told me he’s learning to handle the voices and not pick up anything that will get him in trouble.
Cheater sends me trivia questions and logic puzzles through e-mail.
Once in a while Torchie sends me a tape of himself playing the harmonica. He really is getting pretty decent. They all decided to try to leave Edgeview, too. That’s good. They don’t belong there.
Every once in a while, I get a postcard from Mr. Briggs. Just for fun, I sent him a T-shirt from the local college. Their mascot is a duck. I hope he wears it to the next staff meeting. I can just imagine the face Principal Davis will make.
Each day is a bit of a struggle. I still have to fight to keep from getting people angry. I mess up a lot, but I’m getting better. And, on top of that, I have to wrestle with the urge to make them do what I want by telling them what they want to hear. Sometimes I slip. I’m human.
But I’ve decided it’s okay to use my talent to make people feel good, as long as I’m not doing it because I want something from them. I guess it’s my way of making up for getting so many people angry. The last thing I want is to be a bully. Not all bullies use their fists. Some use words.
It’s not easy. I imagine every talent has a price, both the talents we know about and the hidden talents—the gifts we haven’t yet discovered.
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