Earthman Jack vs. The Ghost Planet

by Matthew Kadish

  “Principal Montgomery,” cried J.C. “That’s not fair! I didn’t do anything! And I already rented a limo and a tux!”

  Jack suppressed a smile. As much as he would like to have seen J.C. suffer along with him, Anna would also be included in the punishment. Despite what J.C. had said, she was innocent of everything except trying to help Jack when he was in danger of being beaten to a mushy pulp. And for the life of him, Jack couldn’t repay that by letting her take the rap.

  “It was my fault,” said Jack, piping up.

  All eyes in the room turned to him.

  “It was my fault,” repeated Jack. “I threw the first punch, J.C. defended himself, and Anna got involved because she tried to break up the fight. If anyone should be punished, it’s me.”

  J.C.’s eyes brightened. “See!” he said. “That’s what I’ve been saying! Finnegan just clocked me for no good reason!”

  “I’m aware of your account of the events, Mr. Rowdey,” said Principal Montgomery before turning his attention to Anna. “Is this true, Ms. Shepherd? Did Mr. Finnegan start the fight?”

  Anna turned and looked at Jack with her beautiful blue eyes, and Jack instantly knew there was trouble. She understood what he was doing, and she wasn’t going to let him take all the blame in this matter. After all, he’d done what he had for her.

  “Actually, Principal Montgomery…” Anna began to say.

  Jack knew if Anna muttered another word, she was going to ruin his confession. Jack had to do something dramatic to take Principal Montgomery’s attention away from her and prove that he was the one and only culprit.

  Thinking as quickly as he could, Jack leapt out of the chair, and in one motion, swept his arm across the principal’s desk, shoving all manner of papers, pens, books, and even a stapler or two onto the floor.

  Everyone leaned back from the sudden shower of desk-based items, stunned. Jack turned and pointed to J.C. “And you better watch your back, chump!” Jack exclaimed. “Because as soon as there aren’t any teachers around to save your butt, I’m gonna finish what I started!”

  The look on J.C.’s face was so comical, it was almost worth taking all the blame just to see it. Jack turned to a red-faced and wide-eyed Montgomery. “What?” asked Jack defiantly. “What you gonna do about it, you fat tub of lard?”

  That sealed it. Principal Montgomery glared at Jack. “Very well,” he growled. “One month detention, including Saturdays. And you are suspended from all school functions. That includes sporting events, after school clubs, and Homecoming.”

  Jack sighed. All things considered, the punishment wasn’t all that bad. He was practically in a perpetual state of detention anyway, thanks to Mr. Shepherd, didn’t belong to any clubs, and his prospects of going to the dance weren’t all that great to begin with. The extra detention on Saturdays was going to hurt, though.

  “That’s for starting a fight on school grounds,” continued Mr. Montgomery. “For that stunt you just pulled, you’ll serve another month of detention. Including Saturdays.”

  Jack’s shoulders slumped. Two full months of detention. That definitely hurt.

  “And you two,” said Montgomery, looking at J.C. and Anna. “Consider this your only warning. If I hear about either of you breaking any more rules – I don’t care if it’s walking the halls without a pass or speaking out of turn during class – you will be joining him. Am I understood?”

  J.C. and Anna nodded.

  “Now get out,” said Montgomery motioning toward the door. “Except for you, Mr. Finnegan. Before you go, you’re going to pick up everything you just threw off my desk.”

  After tidying up the principal’s office, it was back to class for Jack, the weight of an entire 60 days worth of detention looming heavily over him. He didn’t see Anna or J.C. for the rest of the day, but word about what had happened quickly spread.

  A few kids approached Jack between class to congratulate him for standing up to J.C. But he saw just as many pointing and snickering behind his back. Apparently, half the student body didn’t see a courageous young hero stand up to the school bully. They just saw some loser get pounded into the ground during lunch.

  On top of being the laughing stock of the school and having every Saturday for two months ruined by detention, Jack was pretty sure he’d blown any shot he’d ever had with Anna. In fact, she probably hated him for getting her involved in a fight in the first place.

  When the last bell rang, Jack’s attitude was as foul as it had ever been. Everything about this day, from the minute he’d woken up, seemed to be going wrong for him – and he still had another hour and a half with Mr. Shepherd to look forward to.

  Jack marched into his homeroom, plopped himself down in the middle of a sea of empty desks, and sat slumped with his arms crossed, sullenly waiting for detention to begin. Mr. Shepherd stood with his back to him, looking out the window, not even acknowledging Jack’s presence. There was no doubt in Jack’s mind that the man was probably thinking up some type of new and exciting punishment for Jack to suffer through.

  Mr. Shepherd stood at the window for a long time, not moving. After a while, Jack wondered if he even knew he was in the room.

  “I heard you got into some trouble today,” said Shepherd, finally.

  “Yeah, what else is new?” mumbled Jack.

  Shepherd turned and looked at him. “It seems I underestimated you, Mr. Finnegan,” he said.

  “Why? Didn’t think it was possible to get so much detention in one day?” asked Jack. “Showed you, huh?”

  Shepherd grimaced. “Anyone ever tell you, that you have a great deal of attitude toward authority?”

  “Well maybe if authority weren’t so bent on punishing me for every stupid little thing, I might be a bit nicer to it,” Jack responded.

  “So you believe it’s okay for you to break the rules and not get punished for it when you do?”

  “Yeah, when the rules are dumb,” said Jack. “When it’s not my fault that I broke them.”

  “What if the rules aren’t dumb?” countered Shepherd. “What if it were your fault? Would it be okay then? Or would you still complain? Still have attitude? Still play the victim? Something tells me the answer would be ‘yes.’ ”

  Jack shrugged. “Whatever.”

  “Is that how you deal with things?” asked Shepherd pointedly. “Just shrug it off? Act like you have no choice in the matter?”

  “What do you want from me, man?” snapped Jack, annoyed. “You want me to admit I’m a screw up? You want me to write that on the board a couple hundred times? Is that it, Mr. Shepherd?”

  “I want you to start taking responsibility for yourself,” said Shepherd. “I want you to start to realize that you are the one responsible for what happens to you. Your choices, your actions – everything you do has consequences for you and those around you.”

  “What? You think I don’t already know that?” asked Jack.

  “You don’t act like you do,” responded Shepherd. “You act like a victim. Like you’re helpless, and life is what’s beating you down. It’s always something or someone else’s fault: Your clock that never wakes you up in the morning, the bully that’s picking on you, and the teacher who gives you detention. But it’s never you, is it, Mr. Finnegan? It’s never your fault.”

  “So what?” Jack said, anger rising within him. “What do you care? All you’ve ever done is sit behind your desk and give me detention for every little thing you can think of. So don’t act like you care about what I do, or what I take responsibility for, okay? Now can we please get on with this and skip the father-knows-best lecture or whatever this is supposed to be?”

  Jack slumped back in his chair and turned his head away from Shepherd, waiting for the hammer of fury to drop and the punishment to begin.

  Mr. Shepherd sighed. He walked over and closed the door to the classroom. Without the clutter of noises from the hallway, the room seemed eerily silent.

  “Why do you think it is I give you so much deten
tion, Mr. Finnegan?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, Mr. Shepherd,” Jack replied, not feeling in the mood for more lecture. “Do you have some sort of quota or something?”

  Shepherd approached Jack and sat on top of a desk across from him. “No,” he said. “The reason I give you so much detention is because I expect more from you.”

  “More?” asked Jack. “More what?”

  “What I see when I look at you,” said Shepherd, “is a young man who is undisciplined, unfocused, and utterly without direction in his life.”

  Jack rolled his eyes.

  “But…” the man continued, “I also see a great deal of potential in you, Jack.”

  That was the first time Jack could ever remember Mr. Shepherd referring to him by his first name. For some reason, it sounded extremely weird when he said it.

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked.

  “When you came in here a minute ago, do you remember what I said?”

  “Something about underestimating me.”

  Shepherd nodded. “And what do you think I meant by that?”

  Jack sighed. “I don’t know. What did you mean by it?”

  “I meant that I was very impressed with what you did today.”

  Jack suddenly found himself confused. “Huh?” he said.

  “Anna came by earlier and told me what happened. The real story. Not what Principal Montgomery informed me of,” said Shepherd.

  “So she told you the fight wasn’t my fault?” Jack asked hopefully.

  “No,” said Shepherd. “She made it very clear the fight was pretty much all your fault.”

  “Oh,” said Jack, a little disappointed.

  “But she also told me what you did, and how you shouldered the punishment all by yourself, so she wouldn’t have to. Why do you think you did that?”

  Because I think your daughter is hot, thought Jack. But he certainly wasn’t going to tell Shepherd that. Jack shrugged. “I just didn’t want to see Anna get punished for something she didn’t do.”

  Shepherd nodded. “It would have been easy for you to just sit there and let the principal punish the others, as well. But you took responsibility for your actions. You made the decision to sacrifice yourself, so someone who was innocent did not have to suffer. That tells me that a lot of what I thought about you was right, Jack.”

  “It does?” asked Jack, suddenly wondering what exactly Mr. Shepherd was prone to think of him.

  “Yes,” said Shepherd. “Despite what you might think, I don’t have it out for you. The reason I’m hard on you is because I know you’re capable of so much more than what you’re putting forth. I thought that maybe, if I gave you a hard enough time, you might finally find the courage to start taking responsibility for yourself.”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” said Jack, a little bitterly.

  “On the contrary,” said Shepherd. “Today, you proved you have that type of courage. I was just going about getting it from you the wrong way.”

  Jack scratched his head. Why was Mr. Shepherd suddenly talking to him so much? In all the time he’d had detention with the man, he’d just have Jack do some meaningless chore while he sat at his desk and scribbled whatever-it-was-he-scribbled in a notebook until time was up. Frankly, this was the most Jack could remember Shepherd ever saying to him, and the longer it went on, the more uncomfortable it made Jack.

  “Um… okay,” said Jack, not sure how to respond.

  Shepherd stared at Jack with his piercing grey eyes – the gaze he was famous for. For some reason, Chunk’s voice echoed in Jack’s mind, and suddenly the whole serial-killer-cannibal thing didn’t seem so far-fetched.

  “Jack,” he said. “I want you to listen to me, for once in your life, and really hear what it is I’m going to tell you. No jokes. No comebacks. No half-hearted acknowledgements. I just want you to listen. Can you do that?”

  “Yeah, I guess,” responded Jack.

  Mr. Shepherd’s eyes narrowed. Jack picked up on the hint.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I can.”

  Shepherd nodded, satisfied. “There are people out there that believe life is just something that happens to them. That they have no control over the events and circumstances they find themselves in. But the truth is, we are the ones who shape the lives we live. We are the ones that allow good things and bad things to happen to us. By taking responsibility for our actions, we are able to make our lives better. When we play the victim, we allow our lives to be miserable. If you can take responsibility for yourself, decide to make your life better – and take action to that effect – then you are the master of your own destiny. And when that happens, you are capable of great things.”

  “So you’re saying if I do things to get what I want, I’ll get them?” asked Jack.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Shepherd replied.

  “Well, I certainly didn’t want two months of detention,” said Jack. “But that’s what I got.”

  “But what is it you did want?” asked Shepherd. “What was it that made you admit to starting that fight?”

  “I didn’t want Anna to get punished,” said Jack.

  “And did you get what you wanted?”

  Jack was quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he said, suddenly impressed.

  “There you go,” said Shepherd.

  “But the detention–” said Jack.

  “Consequences of your actions,” replied Shepherd. “There will be consequences for everything you do. Always. But it’s how you deal with those consequences that matter. Will you allow them to take over your life? Play the victim to them? Or will you take more action, and use them as an opportunity to get more of what you want?”

  For the life of him, Jack couldn’t imagine how he could use detention to get something he wanted. But despite all that, for some reason, a lot of what Mr. Shepherd was saying started to make sense.

  Jack looked up and met Shepherd’s gaze. Suddenly, his cold stare didn’t seem so menacing anymore. It was almost as though he were looking into Jack, and could tell what he was thinking. And in that strange moment – it felt like the two of them had reached some kind of understanding about each other.

  After a second or two of silence, Shepherd got up and walked to his desk. He took a notebook out of his drawer, sat down, opened it, and began to scribble.

  “Time’s up,” he said. “You may go.”

  Jack glanced up at the clock above the classroom door. He’d only been in detention for, at most, ten minutes – not even close to the full time. He looked back at Shepherd, confused.

  “Unless,” said Shepherd, noticing the look on Jack’s face, “you want to stay longer?”

  “Nope!” said Jack, hopping up and heading for the door. He wanted to get out of there before Shepherd overcame his sudden generous mood. He was halfway out of the room when Shepherd’s voice rang out again.

  “Jack…”

  Jack turned, afraid Shepherd had changed his mind. But instead, he said:

  “Try and stay out of trouble. Or you’ll come to realize some consequences are far worse than others.”

  Chapter 6

  Because River Heights was not a very big town, there were not many options available for young teens when it came to a popular Earth custom known as “hanging out.” Most shops were limited to the bare necessities – grocery stores, hardware stores, and restaurants. The closest mall was a 30-minute drive into the neighboring town of Whitecreek, and for kids without a car, that meant it was unreachable without parental help.

  That made the school the unofficial social spot after classes had ended. Most kids enjoyed joining various clubs or sports teams as a way to socialize with their friends. And though Jack might have been curious about possibly playing on the soccer team or maybe even joining the school band to learn an instrument, the idea of staying at school any longer than he absolutely had to just did not appeal to him.

  That is where Big Jim’s Pizza Palace came in.

  Big Jim’s was a worn-
down one-story building directly across the street from the high school. Its décor was gaudy, its sanitation was questionable, and its pizza was – even by high school standards - bad. But it had the distinct advantage of being close, which was probably the only reason the place was still in business at all.

  Indeed, Big Jim’s was the de-facto hang out for most of the student body. After the final bell rang, it was off to Jim’s to shoot some pool, grab a bite to eat, or just sit around and do homework at someplace that wasn’t home.

  Because both Matt and Chunk didn’t live too far away from Jack, they usually waited for him at the pizza shop until he was out of detention so he wouldn’t have to make the trek back to Eagle Hill alone. When Jack entered the joint a full hour and fifteen minutes early, he fully expected them to be surprised.

  Jack scanned the room looking for his friends. The walls of the place were covered with a faux wood paneling, which must have passed for fancy sometime back in the 1970’s. Green-red-and-white colored lamps hung from the ceiling, but they hadn’t been cleaned in so long, barely any light could actually escape from them. In the corner was a scratched and rickety pool table, and an on-the-fritz jukebox thumped some music that was cool about ten years ago.

  Big Jim’s was crowded today. Students of all shapes and sizes staked out most of the tables with their textbooks and study materials while they nursed soft drinks and ate pizza. There was a line at the counter, where Fred – the pot-bellied and unshaven owner of Big Jim’s (and don’t bother asking why a guy named Fred christened his restaurant after a guy named Jim) – stood at a cash register taking orders with all the good cheer of a professional sewer cleaner, which was to say, none at all.

  “S’up, Fred?” said Jack as he walked by.

  “Welcome back, freeloader,” grumbled Fred. “I’d ask if I could get you anything, but you never have any money, do ya?”

  “Yeah, which would make it really hard to pay for the hospital bill if I ever actually ate here,” smiled Jack.