FORTY-NINE
By the time Jason and I got back home, asked our mother’s permission to go to the Plunge with the other kids, grabbed our trunks and towels and made it back across the street, Cory and Christy were waiting with Steve, Jackie and Frisbee for us. Here it was. Now we’d find out if Cory was really pissed at us or not. He didn’t seem to be, just kept staring at his feet and looking up every couple of seconds.
Finally, Jason said, “What’s up?”
Cory, with a weak smile, said, “Hey.”
It turned out that he was more embarrassed about what had happened than he was angry at us. Steve motioned for Jackie and Christy to follow him to his front door to give us some privacy. Frisbee went with them and they all sat on the step.
After a moment of silence Cory spoke up. “I just want to say that I’m sorry.”
Jason looked at me, surprised. “Sorry for what?” he asked.
“You know, about yesterday, in Dead Grove.”
It was my turn to talk now. “But we didn’t even help you, Cory. We just stood there and watched him. We should be the ones saying sorry.”
“Yeah,” Jason said. “Ricky and I talked about it last night. We thought you might be mad at-“
“You guys didn’t do anything wrong,” he told us. “You guys weren’t the ones that started that whole mess. I was. That day I spit in his face at the stairs. If I hadn’t done that in the first place, none of that would have happened yesterday. I put all you guys in danger. If I hadn’t been shooting my mouth off or if I had just apologized to him… well you know. You guys had nothing to do with it. It was all my dumb ass fault. Sometimes it’s like I can’t help myself. Like there’s another person in my head telling me to do that stuff because it will be funny and it will make everyone laugh. But it doesn’t. It just gets me in trouble, you know.
“Anyway, I just want to say that I’m sorry. I already told Steve before you guys got here. I’m going to try and watch my mouth from now on so I don’t get us into any more trouble. That is if you still want to be friends with me.”
Jason and I exchanged another look at each other. Here we were the whole time thinking that Cory would be mad that we hadn’t helped him out, when really he was just ashamed of his actions. He sure knew how to surprise us sometimes.
“Cory,” Jason said. “We’re always going to be friends. Ain’t nothing going to change that.”
“Thanks, man,” Cory told him. “That’s what Steve said too.”
Putting his hand straight out toward Cory, Jason said, “Best buds?”
Cory grabbed it, pumped it once, smiled and said, “Best buds.”
They stood that way for a minute until I interrupted. “Hey, are you going to fall in love with my brother all over again, or are you going to shake my hand too?”
Cory let go of Jason, looked over to me and said, “What’s that, runt?” He balled up a fist and swung at my shoulder. Just before the punch connected, he pulled it and gave my arm the lightest tap and smiled.
A moment later, Steve called out, “You girls done over there yet? Can we get going?”
Christy, Jackie and Frisbee followed Steve to where we stood. “Everything cool?” Steve asked.
“Always,” Jason said, as if what had happened the day before was insignificant.
We started our way down Cottonwood and got only a couple houses away when I noticed Frisbee trailing behind us. “Hey, what about Fris? They won’t let him down at the pool. Should we leave him in your backyard, Steve?”
Everyone turned around and looked down at the dog, who in turn sat down on his rump with raised eyebrows.
Steve thought about it and said, “I think I know what to do.” He ran back to his house, disappearing through the side gate. When he returned a minute later he was holding a looped length of nylon cord. “We can tie him up to a tree when we get down there and keep an eye on him through the fence.”
With that task taken car of we resumed our walk and once we got down to where Aspen street branched off, Cory stopped. “Ah, do you guys want to go up this way. I don’t want to go up Redwood and run into Mike again. Come on, what do you say?”
“What’s all this with Mike?” Jackie asked again.
Then Christy jumped in. “Mike who?”
Apparently Cory hadn’t mentioned to his sister about his run in with the bigger boy.
“Mike Wood. That loser from up Redwood,” Jackie told her.
And as politely as he could, Steve, once again said to Jackie, “Drop it, Jack. That’s the last time I’m going to say it. That business is ours, not yours. Got it?”
She said nothing, just nodded and looked at Christy with hurt in her eyes. I felt bad for her but also knew that girls her age felt as if they needed to be let in on every secret life held from them. She’d get past it. If Cory wanted to tell them, then that was up to him. But there was no way they would get that story from any of us. Because not only was it a command from Steve for them to not ask, but also an order for us not to tell.
“Okay, let’s head up this way then,” Steve said, pointing up Aspen.
As we started across Cottonwood for the other street we heard a girl’s voice shouting, “Dwog! A Dwog!”
None of us paid heed at first. It was just another child’s voice in a neighborhood full of children, but soon the chanter came closer.
“A Dwog! A Dwog! A Dwog!”
It wasn’t until a couple of houses up that one of us realized that Frisbee was no longer with us. Turning around and coming to a halt, Jason said, “He, check it out. Look.”
The rest of us turned and looked to where he pointed. Back on the corner, Frisbee stood, wagging his tail like mad. On her knees, hugging and kissing him, calling him ‘Dwog,’ was Jamie Manning the girl with Down’s syndrome. She must have been out in her front yard when we crossed the street and come running up when she saw Frisbee. In the short time he had been with us, I hadn’t seen that dog as happy as he was in that moment. And in all the time that Jamie had lived down the street from us I had never heard her talk. They looked like two old friends meeting after a long separation.
“Hi, Jamie,” Christy and Jackie said and laughed.
Jamie stood up from where she was next to Frisbee and stared at them, thick tongue poking out from between her lips, eyes as big as golf ball behind her chunky glasses.
Frisbee then jumped up and licked her straight on the mouth, which set her into a fit of laughter and as soon as she started laughing, the rest of us started too. We weren’t laughing at her, though. It was true; we might have made a joke or two about her handicap in the past, kids do stuff like that to kids that are different. But we began laughing just for the simple fact that she was laughing and I’m almost positive that not one of us had ever heard her laugh before that day. And it was as if her laughter was contagious. It was real. It was joyful and it was from the heart. And it almost made your own heart ache to hear it. But ache in a good way.
Slowly Jamie calmed down and as she did so did we. Although there was a smile plastered to each of our faces. A perm-a-grin if you will.
Her face went slack and her tongue poked back out like a turtle making sure the coast is clear. We thought that was it until she said, “Dwog,” and started in again with that wonderful laugh. Not only did it get us going again, but Frisbee joined in as well, barking and jumping up to put his paws on her chest, licking her face.
“Dwog.”
Laughter and barking. Petting and licking.
“Dwog.”
Giggles and yips. Howling and hugging.
“Dwog.”
Yelling and cursing.
“What the hell are you doing to her?”
The silence that followed was immediate, but for Christy and Jackie’s yelps of surprise like exclamation points at the end of our outburst. All of us had been so lost in that happy moment that we hadn’t noticed Jamie’s father run across the street. George Manning stood behind his daughter fists balled at the end of his leather-tanned arm
s, teeth bared, seething.
“I done told you before to leave my girl alone. All you little bastards in this neighborhood do is tease her. Call her a retard. I’m gonna tell you this one last time. You kids pull this shit again, you keep messin’ with my kid and there will be hell to pay. Each one of you mark my words. Is that understood?”
We stared at him, towering over us, and shook. Christy and Jackie looked on the verge of tears. Finally Steve spoke up for everyone. “Sir, we weren’t teasing her. We were just-“
But that’s as far as he got before George Manning broke in. “I saw what you were doing to her. You were laughing at her and making your dog bark at her. Don’t stand there and lie to me, boy. I will take off my belt and beat seven shades of piss out of you right now,” he yelled, pointing a finger at Steve’s face.
Frisbee began a low deep growl, hair raised on his shoulders, staring back at Jamie’s father.
He looked down at the dog and said to Steve, “If that dog makes a lunge at me I will stomp its head in.”
The comment seemed to make Frisbee growl even louder as if to challenge Mr. Manning. Steve bent down and put an arm around his furry neck, scratched his throat, calming him. Neither one took their eyes from the man.
After a moment, he turned away from us with anger burning in his eyes, grabbed Jamie by the arm and led her back to their house. George’s wife Emily was standing in their front yard. We hadn’t noticed her but she must have been there the whole time. She stared back toward us with a face as blank as a new chalk board, her hair greasy and unkempt. She was just as tall as her husband and had a good thirty pounds on him too, but as he approached she shrank from him.
“Why the fuck are you so stupid, woman?” George yelled at his wife. “I’ve told you before that you need to watch out for her. You need to protect her. Why is it always me that has to do that? Take her inside. I’ll be in, in a minute.”
George headed toward his open garage where an old, white Crown Victoria was boosted up on a jack having its oil changed. Emily squatted down and gave Jamie a hug, smoothed the hair from her brow.
“Dwog,” Jamie said to her mother.
Emily stood back up and pointed her daughter to the front door. She turned toward us and stared for a few seconds before hanging her head and going inside herself.
Like I said, that was the first time we had ever heard Jamie Manning speak. Unfortunately, it was also the last.
Frisbee Page 57
