by Nancy Allan
Drake’s tissue floated into the trash as he calmly put his glasses back on and stood up. “Mr. and Mrs. Cameron,” he said nodding to each of my parents and ignoring me, “I’m sorry that I don’t have more time to discuss this with you, but Miss Latimer and I are late for a meeting.” He walked to the office door and motioned my parents through it.
Dad stepped in front of him. “Something’s wrong here, Drake. Either you have your head in the ground, or you’re covering for someone…”
“Or both,” I said, marching past them.
My parents and I left angrier than when we arrived. When we got in the car, Dad pulled out of the lot and pointed the car toward town. I had a bad feeling.
Let things cool, Delta had said. “Where are we going, Dad?”
“Police.”
I popped the seatbelt and leaned forward from the back seat. “Dad, we need to think about this. Can you pull over for a sec?”
He kept going.
“Dad? Please.”
Reluctantly, he pulled off the road, his anger subsiding. I said to him, “Delta warned me about the danger of provoking the Tarantulas. Mako is a Tarantula. They have a track record for retaliation that goes way beyond the school grounds.”
Dad’s eyes found mine in the rear view mirror. “What are you getting at?”
“I’m saying we should think this through. Let’s say you press charges against Mako. Do you think the gang will be pleased about that? Do you think that they’re not going to have a single malicious thought about our family? Do you think that they’re NOT going to want to get even with us for doing that?" I noticed that he wasn't convinced, so I added: "Last year a parent went to the police. The next day his sister was scooped into one of the Tarantula’s cars and beaten. I’m just saying, who knows what they would do to us, but Mom’s got her daycare and then there’s Anika…”
Dad turned around in his seat. “They should be charged, Ashla, if that’s what it takes. Drake has his head…you know where. Somebody has to do something.”
Mom was gaping at me. “Bryan, I think Ashla’s right. We need to give this more thought before going to the police. We don’t want to do anything to provoke these guys. But I do think we should make a complaint to the school board.”
My parents were blown away by what was happening to me. Neither could grasp the true enormity of my situation. They had no experience with bullying—it was something that happened to other kids. Even my own experience, previous to this, had been limited to watching what those other kids had endured. Truth was, I always thought bullying was the worst thing that could happen to anyone. Once you’re targeted, there is no way out, no help, no rescue, and no safe haven. You can be attacked anywhere, anytime. Even at home. I was afraid of that happening to me, to my parents, to Anika, and to the daycare children.
One thing was certain: if Delta was right, this would continue, it would worsen, it would become intolerable, and it would eventually destroy us, unless we do something to get out of harm’s way. Yet, I had no answers and no ideas. The school was denying it, the police don’t want to hear about it, and there was no one and nowhere to turn.
Dad turned the car around.
As we drove home, I agonized over how this whole thing had snowballed. Because of me, my closest friends in this world, Celeste, Tara, and Brenna, were at risk. They were still in school. If Dad had laid those charges, the Tarantulas could, and likely would, go after them as well. Not to say that wouldn’t happen anyway.
According to Celeste, Delta had not returned to school since the fight. It was clear that Delta was considered a traitor. I shuddered. I could only hope they never caught up with him. He too was in terrible danger because of me.
Worse, there was my family to think about. I couldn’t bear the thought of them being targeted and hurt. That thought was horrific.
Whatever happened, I had to make sure the gang’s focus didn’t spread to others. I had to keep it on me and not let it hurt those I loved and cared about. I swallowed a huge lump in my throat.
Justin
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
My father’s face, normally a healthy tan color, was flushed, telling me he was hot about something. Of course, it was usually related to my accident, so I cringed thinking of what might be coming. He caught my eye and slammed a wad of legal papers down on the table. “Here. Read every sentence. Make sure it’s accurate. I don’t want those people getting off b’cause of some ridiculous mistake.” He was wearing his gray suit, having come home early for the sole purpose of providing me with twenty plus pages of legal reading. I was sitting on the exercise chair, working through leg lifts, and made no move for the papers. That irritated him. “Ya hear what ah said, Son? Ah need these back by tomorrow morning, before ah leave.” When he was pissed, his southern drawl really kicked in.
I gritted my teeth and tried to stay cool. We’d had this conversation before. “There’s no need to sue the Camerons. There’s absolutely nothing to gain by it. They have no money and from what I hear, things are tough enough for them.”
He clenched his meaty fists. “And how ’n the hell yawl know that? Heh? They got a house. They got equity, so they’ll pay. They’re going ta get what’s coming to ‘em.”
I let my feet rest on the floor. “Then, you’ll have to do it without me. This is all about revenge for you. Not exactly a noble objective.”
“You feel noble, settin’ in your wheelchair lookin’ down the road at a future in some office somewhere? You were a star, Son. The best. Bound for the NHL It was darn hard work gettin’ ya to that point. Your mother gave up her own life shuttling you back and forth to the rink at all hours since you were knee high. Hell, we all gave up a lot. And what for? Nothin’ that’s what. Thanks to those people. Yawl are finished for hockey. Ya’ll never play again. Hell, ya’ll be lucky if you can even walk properly.”
“I’m not looking down that road, Dad. I take my life a day at a time. My legs get continually stronger. I probably won’t be a hockey star, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a career coaching the minors or maybe even go a different way. One thing I’ve learned from this, there’s a whole lot more to life than hockey. I admit, in the beginning, it was pretty devastating, but things can change. People can change.” I looked up at him. “At least, some people can.”
“That’s all well and fine, but nothin’ changes the facts. That girl ruined you physically, mentally, and financially. You would’ve bin a wealthy man in your own right. Now, you’ll have to scramble like everybody else.”
I felt a cynical smile creep across my face. Here we were, living in The West Estates, mortgage and debt free, with four pricey vehicles on the drive, and my dad considered this scrambling. Sure enough, he got up early and spent fifty to sixty hours a week at his investment firm, but scrambling?
“I may not earn millions, like I might have…and that is might have, in case you haven’t considered the legal aspects of those two words, but I will always earn enough.” I wiped the sweat from my face with a towel. “When will you get it, Dad? For me, hockey was never about the money. It was always the game. The camaraderie. I miss both, but it’s time to broaden the horizon.”
“Yeah? Since when did you get so philosophical? Ya gotta look at this for what it is. I’m going ahead with the lawsuit. Read them papers!”
I slid across into the wheelchair, shaking my head. “You want the Camerons to hurt for taking hockey out of your life, not mine. You want pay back for that.”
His face turned a deep purple. “That’s a load of bull!”
“It’s a fact!” I took a breath and lowered my voice. “How will money ever replace our family involvement in hockey? It won’t do that. Like I said, this is about revenge, plain and simple.”
“Justin!” My mother had come into the room without either of us being aware of it. “Don’t sch-peak to your father like that.” Her words were slurred. Now a continual problem.
I turned around in the chair. “This is between Dad an
d me.”
“Hey!” My father yelled, “Show your mother some respect.”
I swung the wheelchair around and pushed toward the hall. This was one of those lose-lose plays.
“Where the hell you going?” Dad swept the wad of papers off the table and followed me, catching up at the door to my bedroom. He slapped the package on my lap. “Read, Boy!”
He had talked non-stop about suing the Camerons for months. In the interim, he had re-directed his anger and frustration at my mother. Her drinking had evolved into full blown alcoholism. This in turn spurred marital rages between my parents that were destroying what little was left of our family. Most evenings, I went out. I couldn’t listen to them.
I couldn’t allow my father to sue the Camerons either. I pushed the papers back into his hands. “I won’t be a part of this.”
He yanked my chair around and tried to force them into my left hand. His face was flushed, his eyes bugged as his anger spiraled out of control. “You will read these, Boy. Ya hear?”
I pushed his hand away. “I don’t need to read them to know they are not accurate, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
He stiffened. “What the hell you talkin’ about?”
“Burn the paperwork, Dad. They’re not worth a cent.” I swung away from him, grabbed my jacket and truck keys, and wheeled myself toward the door. “I was the one on the mountain that day. Not you. You have no idea what really happened up there. And you won’t listen when I try to tell you.” From the hallway, I glanced back at him. “When you finally figure it out, there’ll be a bonfire.”
I pulled the Expedition into the parking lot outside the hospital pool, parked, and reached in the back seat for my new crutches. Opening the driver’s door, I worked myself upright onto the crutches. I had a flash of my former self, parking and jumping out of the truck without even thinking. Never again would I take mobility for granted.
I could barely wait to walk normally again. In fact, I couldn’t wait to do anything considered normal again. But crutches were an upgrade and my progress was way ahead of the doctors’ expectations. I worked through my exercise routines pushing harder and harder, marking new firsts every day. Janine didn’t know I was now upright and I couldn’t wait to show her.
I checked the time on my cell and looked around the lot. Even though it was April, the night was damp and cool. Rain was on the way, as usual. I saw a blue Cavalier drive onto the lot and park down the next row. Celeste and Janine stepped from the car deep in conversation and oblivious to me. Janine looked drawn and worried until she looked up and saw me. She took in the crutches and her entire demeanor changed. Her smile lit up the sidewalk. She was truly beautiful as she hurried toward me.
“Hey! Look at you. When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.” I gave her an update as we walked toward the pool and by the time we were in the water, I found myself thinking about her and nothing else. Her fantastic body and caring hands were everywhere, distracting me. I could barely concentrate on what she was saying or what we were doing. Worse, my body was betraying me and I was struggling to keep that to myself.
Celeste’s patient didn’t show, so the girl had left. Janine and I were alone in the pool. Her lithe slim body was strong, her skin translucent, smooth, and silky. I wanted to put my hands around her tiny waist. Man, I wanted to put my hands all over her. She reached across to reposition my left arm and I couldn’t resist touching her cheek. She stopped and looked up at me. Our eyes met and I can only guess she read every word that mine were transmitting. She moved ever so slightly closer to me. I slid my other hand down her bare back and pulled her gently closer. In an instant our lips touched, tenderly at first, like an intimate introduction. We explored and savored, but neither of us could hold back. Her arms flew around my neck and our wet bodies collided underwater. What a rush. Desire surged through me like hot lava. Eventually, we pulled back, breathless. Again, we reassessed each other, our eyes exploring, questioning, wondering. I wanted Janine, every bit of her…her lovely face, compassionate soul, firecracker brain, and gorgeous body.
“I think we’re done for today,” she breathed.
Jeez.
We met outside the locker rooms a few minutes later. Janine was wearing a soft teal sweater that clung to her as tightly as her jeans. She gripped her backpack with pale, slim fingers. “Where’s your friend?” I asked, looking around.
“Celeste? She went home.”
“So…library or food?”
“I’m not really up for the library at the moment,” she replied. “How about food?” As we walked side by side to the parking lot, she asked, “You surprised me when you said you drive. Is it hard?”
“My right leg has healed enough to drive short distances. I was worried about it the first time, so I took the truck over to the Safeway lot late one night and tried a few emergency maneuvers. Took a while for my driving leg to respond as fast as I wanted, but once that happened, I felt more comfortable about driving. I don’t use the freeway though.” I hobbled on the crutches around to the passenger door and opened it for her. “You like ribs?”
She laughed. “A true guy’s meal. Love them.”
Half an hour later, we were digging into a full rack barbequed in a savory sauce. She didn’t get all prissy about eating these slippery, saucy, messy morsels. She dug right in. I liked that. A girl gives away a lot about herself by the way she eats ribs.
“Want my corn bun?” she asked licking her fingers.
I laughed and lifted it off her plate. “What’s your favorite meal?” I wanted to know.
“Besides ribs? Turkey. How about you?”
“Same. Turkey. After that, it’s steak. Want coffee?”
“The iced tea is fine, thanks. I have enough trouble sleeping without doing myself in with coffee.”
There was a sad undertone to her normally positive, upbeat voice. “Why’s that?” I looked at her hard trying to imagine the cause.
She shrugged. “Stuff. Don’t tell me you sleep like a baby every night?”
“No way. My legs still give me a lot of grief. In fact, more so at night than in the day.” She seemed to shrink right in front of me. “Hey,” I reached across the table and grabbed her sticky fingers, “it’s not that all your hard work isn’t paying off. It’s part of the healing process, that’s all.” When she looked up I saw more sadness in those eyes than I’d seen in my lifetime. I worked my way around to the other side of the booth and put my arm around her. “Cheer up.” I told her. “Nothing can be that bad.”
Ashla
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The doorbell rang and a moment later Tara raced up the stairs to my bedroom. I heard the urgency in her footsteps and knew it wasn’t good news. “Ashla!” She went right to my computer and grabbed the mouse. “Have you seen it?” she asked breathlessly.
“What?” Suddenly a ball formed in my stomach. I dreaded the answer. I didn’t want to know.
“They put up a website. Your pictures are all over it.” She clicked the mouse and a page flew open on the screen. My stomach hit the floor. “Where did they get the photos?” I choked, leaning closer to the screen. There were about a dozen, but the focus was on a blown up photo taken right after the rock had knocked me down. I was laying on the ground, bleeding. There were lots of fuzzy closeups. Lots of nasty remarks to go with them, like: Got what she deserved…That’s just for openers…We’ll finish the job next time… I started to shake and wrapped my arms around myself.
Tara scrolled down and stopped at a back shot of me walking into the girl’s washroom. “Camera on every phone,” Tara grumbled. “I can’t believe what they’re saying. Listen to this: “Why should some snob bitch be able to knock out a guy like Justin Ledger. I say we take her out.” Here’s another one. “She deserves at least the same as she dished out. Let’s do her.” Tara stood up and stared at me, the color gone from her face.
I glanced back at the screen and my jaw dropped. “Look.” My voice had
taken on a hysterical edge. “That was taken inside a bathroom stall. There’s the toilet!”
Tara leaned down for a look. “At least you weren’t on it. What a low shot.”
I looked at her and made a face. She was the queen of double entendre.
She caught my look. “Take it either way.”
“I know who took that low shot.”
“Who?”
“Lisa McDowell. It was the day Rand did me in. She followed me from class. I was in the stall when I heard a cell camera click over and over.” I tapped the down arrow on the keyboard. “I kicked her cell away but was so shocked when I saw that it was Lisa, I didn’t think to grab the phone until it was too late.”
Tara was taken aback. “But she’s your friend.”
“Was.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Me neither.” I heard the hurt in my voice and tried to swallow it. Scanned the shots again, I staggered backward and sank down on the edge of the bed. My stomach was a rock and my legs felt like mush. Tara said exactly what I was thinking. “Kids posting on this website, like the bullies at our school, will go after you, again and again, Ashla. They’re not going to quit! We need to do something!”
I shook my head, “I’m open to ideas.”
We sat in misery. It wasn’t long before she jumped up. “How about we take it to the media?”
“No! Tara, don’t even think about it. If you do that, it’ll spread all over the country. Right now, it’s just in our area. Leave it that way.” Tara always believed the news could cure anything, but it had worked in reverse for me.
“We need a plan, Ashla. There’s got to be something we can do to stop this.”
“Yeah, disappear.” I looked over at her. “I’ll never be able to go back to Mount Olympic.”
