BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

  Before she managed to fall, Lt. Col. McMasters mechanically grabbed her, hoisting her into the air and pivoting to deposit her far from the railing. “Time to go back in, Rabbit,” was all he said.

  Next, they discovered a little hallway off the front door. It led to a small bathroom and another bedroom.

  “Whose bedroom is this?” asked Queenie, with intent.

  “Don’t get any big ideas, young lady,” her mother warned. “This room is for your nanny.”

  “Nanny?” said all three kids.

  “Well, not right away. But you’ll get one at some point. And when we do, she’ll stay here.” The three knew better than to ask questions that would get no answers, so they moved on.

  Then Jack thought of a question that needed an answer. “When’s our stuff gonna get here?”

  Weeks back they’d packed up all their toys, clothes, and furniture to be shipped to Germany.

  Mrs. McMasters informed them it would probably be another month before it came over by ship. Basic furniture, pots and pans, and dishes weren’t a big deal; the Army had already stocked the apartment with them.

  Jack didn’t care if his cereal bowl was his own or the Army’s. But their toys? That was another matter. A kid’s gotta have his stuff.

  “Well, at least you have your winter clothes.” She was taking stock of the kitchen cupboards. “You get your boots on and go out and play, but right after dinner, it’s baths and bed, because bright and early tomorrow you kids are headed to school.”

  No kid likes being reminded about school. But when it means walking into a new classroom, on your first day, not knowing anyone—that’s ugly. And it’s much worse when all the other kids have been in that classroom for months.

  Saddled with that lovely thought, they bundled up and went out to have a look around the neighborhood. At first there weren’t any kids around. Then an OD-green Army school bus rumbled up the street and dumped out a horde of kids. OD means olive drab. Just as everything in the Navy is painted haze gray, everything in the Army is olive drab green.

  The McMasterses just stood there watching. A couple of girls about Queenie’s age stepped off the bus. One said hi to her. When they found out she’d just moved in, one asked if she wanted to come over. She, of course, immediately disowned Jack and Rabbit and headed off with them. When a bunch of little kids got off, Rabbit walked over and started talking.

  Jack watched in amazement as Rabbit suddenly bolted from the group to run around the side of the building. All the other kids followed her. How does she do that? She doesn’t even know where she’s going.

  Jack saw no one his age. He started walking without even picking a destination. Soon he was lost in thought, grinding on all the standard questions: Would he like this place? survive school? find friends?

  His feet scrunched on the snow. Back at Fort Hood, he would have traded a month’s allowance for one Saturday of snow. Now he’d melt it all to be back in Texas with his friends. But they were long gone. Jack’s head bowed low, as one foot followed the other, crunching on the hard-packed snow as if his legs belonged to a robot. Long gone. Long gone.

  Jack began to wonder how Alex Knox was making out. He wished Alex lived here so they could explore this place together. Alex was a friend who believed in him. Together they might have found a way to become like Jean-Sébastien. Could that ever happen here? He worried he’d end up a nobody kid, never making the kind of friends who helped him become a somebody kid.

  He wasn’t paying much attention to where he was going till he found himself back at The Glass House. That startled him. He’d never turned around, so how had it happened? It took him a moment to figure out that the road formed a circle that took him back to where he’d started. They would be living at the top of this Army base, way at the far end of everything.

  Jack wasn’t ready to go home, so he headed for the open area across the street from their quarters. The snow out there was a lot deeper, but that didn’t stop him. He figured he was headed in the direction of the airfield, and he wanted to check it out. Once across the open area, he came to a clump of trees, the entrance to a small woods. As he made his way in, he could smell the clean forest and feel the cold on his face.

  He hadn’t gone far when he had to grab a tree limb to save himself from falling. He’d almost walked right off a giant cliff that dropped straight down three or four stories. Heart racing, he slowly, carefully eased back from the edge. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Always keeping a tree between him and the edge, he walked till he found a small opening.

  He could see for miles. It was fantastic. Below was a very large building, probably the Army’s aircraft hangar, because just beyond that was the airfield. Over to the left were more woods and then fields that seemed to go on forever. To the right were a bunch of buildings and a large section of the military base. Farther to the right, he eventually discovered snow-covered tanks. From his position he could only make out a few, but behind those were hundreds of bumps of snow in regular rows. Here’s where 4th Armored Division parks the tanks.

  He stood there taking it in. Almost unnoticed, his spirits had brightened. He might not have any friends yet, but he certainly knew one thing: He’d found the perfect place to build a fort. His fort. From this vantage point on the cliff he could see the comings and goings of the entire military base. If the tanks ever rolled, he’d know it from here. When Jack finally headed home, he felt just fine. He had plans.

  11

  New Kid

  The next morning they were packed off to the American school on base. Lt. Col. McMasters walked them into the principal’s office, where he told the attendant that, starting that day, his children would be attending school. This was not a request; it was a very clear directive from the colonel to the school. A few moments later, Mr. Reynolds, the principal, materialized, and Lt. Col. McMasters introduced himself and his children.

  The colonel turned to the kids. “Your new principal, Mr. Reynolds, can handle it from here. I will see you children back at our quarters tonight. You are to take the bus home.” With that he turned and left.

  Mr. Reynolds told Rabbit to come with him. She jumped up, grinning, all excited to get to her new class. Jack and Queenie remained seated in his office, staring into space, saying nothing. Neither bothered to look at the other. No matter what went down in the next hour, it wasn’t something they’d be doing together. They’d be waltzed into a new classroom in the middle of the year—introduced as “the new kid.”

  The principal came back for Queenie. Now Jack sat alone. I just want this to be over, he screamed to himself. Calm down, Jack. You can do this. He took a long, slow breath and forced himself to put a positive spin on the situation. Hey, there’s a chance it’ll work out okay. Remember that first day back at Fort Sill? Oklahoma was all new and you didn’t know a single soul when you walked into school. That time it was in the middle of the year, too. Remember how—

  The door opened, and Reynolds signaled him to follow. Jack prayed he’d be able to just slip in the back of the classroom and find a seat without really being noticed.

  But no such luck. The minute he entered the class, everything in the room stopped. Every single kid looked up and stared at him. He stood there in front of everything—and everyone. So much for being stealthy.

  The looks on their faces said it all: “Who are you?” Everyone was checking him out, looking for signs of weakness or fear. He stood frozen, trying his best to put on a blank face. His objective was to communicate absolutely nothing. He knew he shouldn’t show aggression or disgust toward them. Nor should he show worry or terror. The problem was, Jack had no clue what they were actually reading on his face. His brain kept shifting between overdrive and being numb.

  His teacher, Mrs. Campbell, went to talk to Mr. Reynolds for a moment. Then she said, “Everyone, this is Jack McMasters. He’s new here. He’ll be joining our clas
s. Can you all say, ‘Hello, Jack’?”

  From the class came the singsong mumbling, “Hello, Jack.”

  Mrs. Campbell smiled, but by the way the class obeyed instantly, Jack could tell she didn’t take crap from anyone. Making matters worse, she asked a girl named Samantha in the first row to move to the back so Jack could sit in the front of the class. Samantha quickly emptied her desk and Jack sat down. He could still feel everyone’s eyes on the back of his head. He knew nothing was really gonna get sorted out till morning break.

  For the next hour Mrs. Campbell taught English. It had something to do with adverbs and adjectives—stuff Jack hated. When the bell finally rang for morning break, everyone jumped out of their seats. It was like a bolt of electricity had shot through them. They all ran for the gym. There was no going out to the playground because of the snow. Once there, a group of boys gathered around Jack.

  “Where are your quarters?” asked a redheaded kid.

  “The Glass House,” Jack answered.

  A couple of them pointed over at a shorter, slightly heavier kid with curly, dark hair. The guy, Charlie, didn’t say anything; he just studied Jack.

  Another asked, “You any good at dodgeball?”

  At that, they all headed off to play. But Jack knew it hadn’t been an idle question. And he knew this was not a simple game. No, no, no. This was his first test. You get knocked out early in the game, you’re immediately labeled a waste. You last, and just maybe you’re okay.

  Initially there were lots of kids in the middle, so Jack had no trouble staying away from the ball. Half were quickly eliminated, by which time Jack became a serious target. Everyone wanted to know: Could they get McMasters?

  Jack picked up his pace a bit. One sandy-haired kid with ice-blue eyes kept trying to take him out. Jack could tell it was starting to get personal. After another near miss, Jack glanced around, noticing there were only five kids left. One of them was Charlie.

  Edging closer to Jack, Charlie whispered, “Watch out for that guy. Ryan Kerrigan’s a problem.” It was done in a way that indicated he and Charlie were now allied together. For the first time that day, Jack felt a connection. The pressure eased just the tiniest bit.

  The game got tougher and tougher, and by then most of their class had gathered to watch. Another kid got taken out. Then Charlie got hit. As he walked off the court, Charlie and Jack made eye contact. Charlie gave him an almost imperceptible nod of approval, but then glanced over at the kid named Kerrigan. “Watch your back,” he mouthed. It was done in a way that no one else could see.

  “McMasters, you play this game like you’re an old lady,” taunted Kerrigan. And the trash talk began. “Ya got no moves. Ya got nothin’. You’re goin’ down.”

  A few moments later Kerrigan wound up a vicious throw that caught Jack on the ankle. He got back to his feet and, ignoring Kerrigan, left the game. With only two players left, he hadn’t done too badly. But he also felt unfinished business with Kerrigan.

  Sure enough, the minute Jack was off the dodgeball court, Kerrigan came after him.

  “You’re a weenie, McMasters,” he said in a nasty tone. He walked like someone very sure of himself. Someone looking for trouble. Kerrigan had a small gang of kids following along. “You hear me, McMasters? You’re a candy ass. I can take you any day.”

  Welcome to being the new kid. Still, Jack was shocked when Kerrigan came right up to him and, without another word, shoved him in the chest, knocking him flat to the gym floor. Jack shook it off, and jumped back onto his feet. But, no question about it. He was rattled.

  Kerrigan stood there glaring at Jack. He had the look of a mean fighter just waiting to see how Jack would respond. “So what you gonna do about it, candy ass? You gonna cry?”

  Jack’s head was spinning, and the room tightened in on him. He could sense kids gathering around. He knew they’d be staring at him, not at Kerrigan. None of them wanted to catch Kerrigan’s attention, to become his next victim. At the same time, they all wanted to know if Jack would stand up to Kerrigan or back down. Jack could feel it. The betting was going against him. Most kids figured he’d back down, like so many kids before him.

  But Jack had seen it all before. He knew that Kerrigan and his gang ran around doing whatever they wanted. They looked for kids to push and pound. Most of the time they didn’t have to do anything to get kids to do what they said. They just used intimidation and the threat of violence. Jack could tell that this kid, Kerrigan, was tough—that he could, and would, be more than happy to pound the crap out of him.

  His brain was running on overload. It began to shut down. Part of him was screaming to get out of there, while another part stood frozen, repeating, Why me? Why me? Why me? That part was having a very hard time dealing with why he was even in this stupid gym, and why this was happening to him. But another tiny part within him knew it was now or never. That part knew he’d be bullied and pushed around by Kerrigan forever if he didn’t act.

  Jack stood staring at Kerrigan. And then he noticed Charlie standing behind Kerrigan. It confused his brain. Was Charlie actually part of Kerrigan’s gang? Had he read things wrong? Nothing had actually been said during the game, but he’d certainly gotten the impression that he and Charlie were together on things. Then Charlie vanished. It took Jack a moment to realize he had dropped down on all fours directly behind Kerrigan. Charlie was looking Jack right in the eyes, silently saying, Do it now!

  In that briefest of moments, Jack’s brain cleared. He understood what Charlie was risking. He’d positioned himself to help Jack take on Kerrigan. Without cycling it through his brain even once, Jack reacted. He crouched his body and then uncoiled, springing directly at Kerrigan in a full body tackle.

  Kerrigan didn’t react—at least not fast enough. Jack hit him right at chest level. Kerrigan crashed back into Charlie’s crouched body, and went flying onto the gym floor. Jack landed right on top of him. The tackle had knocked Kerrigan flat, and now it was Kerrigan who was disoriented—and on the defensive. Jack had his forearm pinning Kerrigan’s neck to the ground. But before anything conclusive could happen, two teachers showed up and pulled the boys apart.

  With Charlie on his side, and his heart pounding like crazy, Jack was ready to have it out, right then and there. Even if he got his butt kicked. Glaring at Kerrigan, he said in a voice loud enough for kids and teachers to hear, “Who’s the candy-ass now?” Jack tried to shrug off the teacher’s grip so he could lunge for Kerrigan.

  “That’s it, young man. Not another thing out of you!” hissed the teacher. “Get to the principal’s office!”

  As Jack was being led away, he saw Charlie on the sidelines grinning at him. Unable to help himself, Jack grinned back.

  Somehow, Kerrigan wasn’t in trouble. He was back with his boys, mocking Jack. Even so, Jack was pretty sure their fight hadn’t gone the way Kerrigan had anticipated.

  Jack had left Principal Reynolds’s office less than ninety minutes ago, and here he was, back again. He figured Reynolds would be calling his father, and all kinds of bad was about to go down. Initially they stashed him in the outer office, while the teacher who’d dragged him down there filled Reynolds in on the situation. Jack was ushered in. He braced himself, figuring the principal was about to start yelling.

  But Reynolds just calmly looked up and said, “Well, Jack, back again already? Have a seat.” He studied the boy for a moment, and then continued, “You want to tell me what went down?”

  Jack’s heart had stopped racing. Just moments ago his brain had been very clear and focused. Responding to the principal should have been easy. But for some strange reason, his mind now seemed to go to mush. He was feeling very removed. Jack knew he was sitting in a chair in front of the principal’s desk, but it felt like he was way back in the corner of the room, up high, observing Mr. Reynolds from outside his own body. It felt like he was a hundred feet away. Some small part o
f his brain knew he was supposed to be answering Mr. Reynolds, but he couldn’t figure out how.

  Despite Jack’s silence, Mr. Reynolds didn’t become impatient. In fact, he stayed very calm. “Jack, I know you got into a fight in the gym with Ryan Kerrigan. Just take a moment to gather your thoughts. Then tell me about it.”

  Jack slowly looked down at his hand. It was there, resting on the arm of the chair. He watched as his fingers stroked the wooden arm rest. But his hand looked ten feet away. He shut his eyes. He just wanted to take a nap, right there in that chair. But from somewhere way in the background he knew he needed to pull himself out of this trance. He needed to deal with the principal. He needed to work this situation so that it didn’t get out of control and the colonel got called.

  His hand still looked far away. He heard a quiet, remote voice say, “I don’t even know Ryan Kerrigan, or whoever that was.”

  Strange, Jack thought. That’s my voice.

  But that’s all he managed to come up with.

  “Jack, look at me.”

  Mechanically, he rotated his head to look over at Mr. Reynolds. It was kind of interesting that Reynolds didn’t look all ticked off.

  “Jack, I do know Ryan Kerrigan. Trust me. He’s been down here to see me a number of times. He and his friends can be rough customers.”

  In a very lazy, still, removed voice, Jack heard himself say, “I really didn’t mean to get into a fight. We were just playing dodgeball. After the game it just happened.”

  “I’m told you were on top of him, calling him names.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And, I don’t suppose you were on top of him because you tripped or accidently fell on him?”

  “No, sir.”

  “I see. Well, how about if you try not to get into any more fights on your first day of school?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And, Jack, let me suggest that you also try and stay away from Ryan Kerrigan, for at least the next couple of days.” Reynolds studied him for a minute. “I’m going to do my work. When you’re ready to do yours, you can go back to your classroom.”