by M Gardner
Steven willed Robert to turn and acknowledge him, but he could see Robert’s clenched jaw and knew there was no hope. Steven returned to his worksheet. It only took a moment for Steven to brush it aside. He had no intention of doing any work today or any day. He put his head down and listened to the sound of pencils on paper.
Steven set the plate on the customer’s table and scurried away. He wasn’t fast enough to escape her comment about him being rude. He marched back to the kitchen. The chef paused from filling orders to deliver Steven a sideways glance and then returned to preparing food.
Steven filled two glasses with ice and water and delivered them to a newly seated customer. The patron looked up at him, and his companion elbowed him in the ribs. She hissed, “Ask him!”
“Are you Steven Bass?”
Steven nodded, his pen poised over his order pad.
The couple frowned, stood, and walked out of the restaurant. Steven stared dumbfounded as another customer refused to be waited on by him. This was the third time this happened, and his shift wasn’t even two hours old.
“Steven?”
Steven turned to see the restaurant manager beckoning to him from the office. Steven gulped and trudged to the office. Kanai sat opposite one of the chairs at his desk, and Steven slumped into the chair to await the inevitable.
“Steven, I’ve seen the reactions of the customers.”
Steven nodded. “I didn’t say or do anything, I swear.”
Kanai shook his head. “Steven, we both know why these customers are leaving.”
Steven sighed, slouched in the chair, and crossed his arms. Just do it, already, he thought.
“I hate to do his, Steven,” Kanai started, but Steven interrupted.
“Please don’t. I can wash dishes or something in the back,” he pleaded.
Kanai raised his hand, palm toward Steven. “People know that you’re here now, and I have a business to run. I’m really sorry, but I have no choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” Steven began.
Kanai stood. He had made up his mind. Kanai and Robert both knew what kind of person Steven was, but neither cared anymore. Steven deflated in the chair. Kanai patted Steven on the shoulder. “Take a few moments to gather yourself.”
Steven stood and left the office. The walk of shame to the front door was painful. All eyes were focused on him.
Steven’s eyes snapped open. The memory of his firing faded, he transitioned from aggressive sleep to the classroom he fell asleep in. It was empty save for a few whispering voices. David and Leonard sat on desks next to Robert’s, talking to him in hushed tones. Steven wiped the drool from his lip, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the door.
“Where’re you going, murderer?” David sneered.
Steven paused but continued toward the door.
Leonard leaped up, ran to the door, and closed it, placing his body in Steven’s path.
“Please let me by,” Steven pleaded.
Leonard laughed and looked over Steven’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, murderer? Are we scaring you?”
Robert watched from his desk. When Steven turned and met his eyes, Robert’s attention returned to the papers in front of him. David pushed Steven’s back, and Steven stumbled forward. Leonard arrested his fall by pushing him back. “You got away with murder. Are you happy now?”
“I didn’t kill her,” Steven whispered in despair.
Leonard stepped forward. “What’s that, murderer? I didn’t hear you.”
Steven cleared his throat. “I. Did. Not. Kill. Her,” he said through clenched teeth.
Leonard grinned, smitten with his bad behavior. “Of course, you didn’t. It was all a big misunderstanding.” He shoved him again, this time with more force than before. Steven tried to dodge, but Leonard grabbed him, swung him around, and pushed him against the door.
“Come on, man, we used to be friends,” Steven pleaded.
David walked up and punched Steven in the kidney. “We don’t stay friends with murderers.”
Steven couldn’t even double over and wheeze – Leonard still held him against the door. Where were the instructors?
Leonard ham-fisted Steven painfully in the ribs. His other hand wasn’t enough to hold him up, and Steven collapsed to his knees. Steven looked up and saw Robert’s eyes squeezed shut. He looked determined not to watch but did nothing to stop David and Leonard.
David’s fist collided with Steven’s cheek. Steven felt a tooth loosen and blood pool inside his mouth. Another hammer blow to his eye, and Steven’s vision doubled. Blood trickled down his cheek from the corner of his eye. Leonard kicked him in the stomach, and Steven collapsed to the floor.
David and Leonard took turns kicking Steven. He tried to curl into the fetal position, and through the blood and tears, he saw Robert, eyes still closed, wince each time a sneakered foot made contact. Robert refused to do anything to keep his former best friend from being beaten in the classroom.
When David and Leonard felt they had delivered the appropriate amount of punishment, they high-fived, picked up their backpacks, stepped over Steven, opened the door, and sauntered through. Steven lay on the floor with his blood and tears comingling.
7 Decisions/Sunshine
Steven weaved through the rows of empty metal bunk beds. By now, he knew where everything was; even a blind pilot could fly this plane. He crumpled up a hand-drawn map on yellow tablet paper he made when they first forced him to stay at the halfway house. He no longer needed it.
He was still reeling from his encounter earlier that day. He still couldn’t believe his former friends had done that to him.
You could stop it all.
Steven looked around. He thought someone had said something, but he was alone. With a wince, he swung his backpack to the top bunk and lowered himself to his mattress.
You can end the pain you’re in.
Steven sat up suddenly and banged his head on the top bunk. “Hello?” he asked the empty room.
They hate you. But there’s an out. An easy out.
“What do you mean?” Steven asked and then clamped his mouth shut. He felt like a kook. He waited, but the only sound he heard was the thundering of his heart. Was he going crazy? Was his new reality so skewed that he now heard voices? He lowered himself back to the thin mattress.
End it all.
Steven fell into a deep sleep, and the parting words from the mysterious voice echoed in his head.
Your pain will be gone only if you decide to end it all.
Steven’s eyes snapped open. He staggered to the communal showers; the sounds of snoring buffeted him from open doors. He gripped the sink and considered the eyes of his reflection in the mirror. The hot water washed away the crusted blood on his face but did nothing to make the bruises fade.
Steven shoveled eggs into his mouth with robot precision. Dressing caused a flash of pain every time the cloth touched one of his bruises. He grabbed his backpack and prepared to trudge through another day of school. Why did he even bother? He wasn’t doing the work. He was attacked the day before. Even before the beating, people sneered at him and called him names. The last month of his senior year was nothing more than a waste of time.
Steven lay awake in his bunk most of the night. As the sounds of a day getting going sounded around him, he rubbed his eyes and threw back his blanket. He contemplated skipping his classes again but decided, for some reason, that he had better just finish his senior year. Everyone preached the value of a diploma, but was it worth the hassle?
Steven trudged down the hall on autopilot. The threats and other abuse seemed to have stalled. Maybe people grew weary of threatening him. Steven couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.
Waiting at the classroom door were David and Leonard. To avoid another potential beating, Steven lurked in the hallway until the instructor arrived. David fixed Steven with an icy glare and followed Leonard into the classroom. Steven took his position in the corner of the grid of d
esks and stared out a window. Steven saw Robert look to his former friend in the window's reflection, press his lips into a thin line, and then back to his laptop.
David and Leonard did their fair share of staring and frowning along with whispers to Robert. He was worried that the end of class would result in another altercation, but David and Leonard marched past him without even looking at him when the time came. Steven sprung up and chased after Robert, trailing the pair of bullies.
“Robert,” Steven huffed with the sudden expenditure of energy, “wait up.”
Robert slowed to a stop and shifted from foot to foot while Steven caught up with him.
“Robert, please.” Steven wanted to reach out and clasp his friend’s shoulder but decided against it. “Why are you going along with them? I didn’t make Lindsay kill herself.”
“I’ve heard your lies before,” Robert declared through clenched teeth. “David and Leonard are right. I’m not friends with murderers.”
Robert brushed past Steven, his elbow hitting a bruise concealed under his shirt. Steven winced and staggered. Robert appeared to hesitate, but his eyes narrowed, and he rejoined David and Leonard watching from a few feet away.
They hate you. It’s easy to make them happy.
Steven looked around. No one was looking at him. He thought the voice had been part of a dream. “What do you want?” he hissed.
If you end it, you won’t have to face their accusations.
He knew what the voice was suggesting. He couldn’t do it. Giving up like that wasn’t in his DNA. He couldn’t throw his life away as Lindsay had…Could he?
Steven felt sudden vertigo. Then his forehead contacted a mostly smooth surface. He sat up, rubbed his forehead, and cursed himself. He’d hoped that avoiding sleep would make the voice go away, and now he was asleep in the kitchen. What am I even doing here? he thought as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
It’s easy, you know.
Steven hadn’t felt this awake in a long time. He shuddered as the voice spoke again.
Ending it all would make everybody happy. Do what you know is right.
Steven rose from the table and wandered behind the serving line. A large kitchen knife was affixed to a wall via a magnet along with several others. He watched his hand grasp the handle and pull it away. Although the handle was gouged and burnt, the blade was straight. The scratches from constant maintenance were evident on the long, sharp blade. He pondered it in his shaky hand for a few moments.
It would be easy. He wouldn’t have to hurt anymore, and they would all be happy with the murderer gone. Lindsay’s parents would get the closure they so desperately needed. No more insults. No more abuse. Steven’s hand was eerily calm as a realization washed over him.
Killing himself really would be an end to all his pain. There wasn’t anyone who cared about him anyway. He raised his forearm, placed the knife against it, and mentally prepared himself for the initial pain. Pain he had known. Just a little more, and it would all be over. How long would it take? How long for him to quail away? His calm hand started to shake, almost as if he were fighting against it.
End it now!
Lindsay lay on the bathroom floor, the long cut in her arm feeding a pool of blood-tinged water gathering at the base of the bathtub. The memory was like a slap in the face. Steven sucked in a deep breath and dropped the knife. The noise it made as it clattered to the floor echoed in the empty kitchen. The voice, Steven thought.
Lindsay had heard a voice. Now, he heard one as well. She had given in to it, hadn’t fought it. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let a bully win, even if the bully were somehow himself. He had to live in the hope that somehow, things would get better.
He knelt to retrieve the lethal knife and replaced it on the magnetic holder. Suicide was not the answer. He was as sure of that as he was that Lindsay had gone down the wrong path. He would fight. He had to believe that there would be a better tomorrow. He had to hope.
The voice had nothing to say.
Everyone turned toward the commotion at the door to the classroom. A girl stood in the doorway. Her auburn hair–closer to brown than red–cascaded past her shoulders, and unlike most girls new to the school, she didn’t attempt to hide behind it. She had an athletic build, shining eyes the color of emeralds and a swath of freckles across her cheeks and nose. Steven squinted at the newcomer. Auburn wasn’t right. Brown roots showed close to her scalp. The messy strands shifted from dark red to red and then to strawberry.
Steven wasn’t the only one to stop what he was doing and stare at the smiling girl. Her brown eyes flashed in the light as she surveyed the room, and finally, her gaze locked on the instructor. The other girls in the classroom assessed her. Leonard winked at her and beckoned for her to come to him. David rolled his eyes at his friend. She ignored them all and strode with confidence to the instructor’s station.
“Can I help you, dear?” the instructor asked when the girl approached the desk.
“I’m a new transfer to Twin Oaks. I’ve just moved here from Tampa Bay.”
The instructor nodded and turned off the overhead projector as she tapped some keys on her computer. “Name?” she asked, looking up at the new girl.
“Ruby,” she replied. “Ruby Julian.”
Steven returned his attention to the strange markings on a piece of paper in front of him. He had no idea what the marks were, and he started shading and connecting the odd marks. Some of his classmates returned to clicking on their mice and tapping on their keyboards. The assignment was to build a web page, but Steven’s screen remained blank.
Steven flipped his pencil and rubbed out an errant mark. The shaking of his desk was loud enough for a few coughs and pairs of eyes to lock on Steven in his corner, separated from everyone else by a moat of empty desks. Even Robert made brief eye contact before he sniffed and returned to his assignment.
The instructor stood, walked around her desk, and clapped her hands to garner the class’s attention. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at the instructor. Everyone, that is, except Steven. His outlandish scratching of graphite against paper was audible in the silence. The instructor didn’t acknowledge Steven’s act of defiance. He felt several sets of perplexed eyeballs on him, but he ignored them all, maintaining his silent disturbance.
“We have a new student who’ll be finishing out her year here at Twin Oaks High School. I want you all to help make Ruby feel comfortable in these last few weeks until school ends for the summer.”
For the first time since Ruby entered the classroom, she looked a little nervous. She smiled and gave a slight wave to the rest of the class. Even Steven stopped defacing the paper in front of him to look up at her.
Today, Robert was sitting behind David and Leonard, the last row before the swath of empty desks that separated Steven from the rest of the class. Robert’s shoulders were rigid, and his work on his web page was abandoned. Like everyone else in the classroom, he was enthralled with the beauty. Leonard made a comment, and David snickered. It was too far away for Steven to hear, but the tips of Robert’s ears tinged a dark red.
The instructor motioned for Ruby to sit at a vacant desk next to Robert. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably as Ruby walked down the aisle, mindful that her backpack stayed on the proper path with her. She lowered herself into the desk beside Robert and flung her backpack under her chair.
Another person to hate you.
Steven flinched at the voice. Bending low over his drawing, he murmured, “Shut it!” He knew that he wasn’t quiet and that several eyes focused on him before returning to Ruby. He suspected that at least a few of them had witnessed him talking to the voice. He didn’t care. If they didn’t care about him, then he didn’t care about them.
Beside Robert, Ruby turned to him and said, “Hi! I’m Ruby.”
Robert shook her hand and mumbled his name in response. Steven was aware of the smell of vanilla wafting from the new girl.
The instructor ma
terialized behind them. “Robert, please help Ruby get caught up with this assignment.” She clapped her hands together. “Everyone else,” she raised her voice, “get back to your projects. This assignment counts for a quarter of your grade this semester. Let’s finish with a bang.” She returned to her desk, and the overhead projector returned to the grading rubric.
Robert flipped open the textbook and wiggled his mouse to wake up his computer. He seemed to have overcome his initial embarrassment, and he and Ruby bent their heads together, discussing his website and the syllabus.
Good for him, thought Steven as he glanced at his former best friend. Robert had always been the third wheel to Lindsay and Steven. It was nice to see him interact with a cute girl. Robert’s love of steampunk and computers seemed to work for once as Ruby oohed and ahhed over his fancy website.
Steven tried to return to his drawing, but stolen glances from Ruby made that all but impossible. Once, their eyes met, and she smiled at him. His heart thundered in his chest, but he quickly focused on his paper. Ruby returned her attention to something Robert was saying, and Steven looked up again to take in her beauty.
She reminded him of Lindsay before her behavior spiraled out of control. Like she’d want to have anything to do with a murderer, Steven thought morosely. I am not a murderer! he chastised himself.
The voice returned. They think you are. You can stop that, you know…
Steven shook his head and tried to ignore the voice. It was a constant battle against it. The voice was becoming more frequent and was getting harder to ignore. Each utterance was a tiny nibble at his soul. Steven wondered how long he could resist it. Each time he heard it, it seemed to make a little more sense. Was the voice right?
8 Dreamer/Hatred
Ruby’s eyes scanned the serving line at the cafeteria. Robert stood next to her, doling out advice on what food was acceptable, what was theoretically edible, and what to avoid. Ruby turned to him and asked for a suggestion, and Robert’s face became a deep crimson.
