by Suzanne Weyn
Around the time the season ended, Arnie seemed to recognize Norval again, but he was hostile—friendly one minute and then nasty the next.
Norval tried to be understanding, but it wasn’t easy. He tried to remember that this was his friend, that Arnie’s brain injury was making him so moody.
In early December, Arnie entered rehab. One afternoon in January, Norval came to sit with him in the rehab center’s lounge.
He wanted to talk about all the offers their teammates had received, but he knew the subject wasn’t guaranteed to boost Arnie’s mood. So he told him about the winter dance that had just taken place. The gym had been decorated as an ice pond. Sadie had looked beautiful in a silver spangled dress.
“Norval, would you do me a favor?” Arnie said when Norval was finished. “Don’t come here anymore. Okay?”
“Why?” Norval asked.
“It’s just… it’s not fair that this happened to me. Seeing you all healthy and going off to winter dances, while I have to sit here—”
“Aw, come on, Arnie. That doesn’t make sense. I have to talk about something. You never even liked those dances.”
“I don’t care if it makes sense. My brain doesn’t work anymore. Don’t you get that? I’m not supposed to make sense. Besides, you must have better things to do. Why do you care what happens to me?”
“I’m your friend,” Norval said.
“If you were my friend, you would have said something when you saw me acting weird.”
“I did!” Norval replied. “You wouldn’t listen to me. You begged me not to tell the coach.”
“If you were really my friend, you would have done something,” Arnie said.
Arnie’s words hit Norval hard. Arnie was blaming him for all the things he was blaming himself for.
“Now get out of here!” Arnie shouted. “Go off to prom and graduation. I don’t care. I can’t stand the sight of your face. I don’t need your pity! Get lost.”
Norval looked around, flustered. Other people in the room were watching. They could hear everything Arnie was saying.
“I’m not kidding! Go!” Arnie shouted.
Norval felt like Arnie had punched him. His face burned with shame. As he rushed out of the room, one of therapists, a man in his thirties, caught Norval by the arm.
“I heard what happened,” the therapist said. “Try not to let it get to you. Rage and depression are two of the side effects he’s dealing with.”
“But the things he’s saying are true,” Norval replied.
“Are you the only one to blame?” the therapist asked. “From what he said, it sounded to me like you tried to get through to him.”
“I did,” Norval said, feeling tears building behind his eyes. “I didn’t do enough, though.”
“I’m sure you did what you could,” the therapist said. “Arnie has to get through this on his own now.”
N
orval knocked on the door of Sadie’s apartment. Her mother let him in. When Sadie stepped into the living room, he gasped. Her hair was curled and pinned up on her head, and her emerald green strapless prom gown swirled around her curves. “Wow!” he whispered.
“You look pretty nice too,” she said with a smile. “You should wear a tux all the time.”
He grinned.
“I can’t believe graduation is next week,” Sadie’s mom said. “I am so proud of you two. To think that a few months from now you’ll both be off to college.”
Norval smiled at Sadie. She’d been awarded an athletic scholarship to cheer at Wendell College. He’d received an offer from Miller College. They’d miss each other, but neither college was so far from home that they couldn’t come home to see each other on some weekends.
Sadie’s cell buzzed. “Hi, Lara,” she said, answering it, then covered the phone to talk to her mother. “Could we pick up Lara on the way to the school?” she asked. “Her date’s car broke down.”
“Who is she going with?” Norval asked.
Sadie rolled her eyes. “Jerome.”
The mention of Lara brought Norval back to Arnie. He hadn’t been back to school, wasn’t going to graduate with them, and wouldn’t be at prom.
“You’re thinking of Arnie, aren’t you?” Sadie asked.
“How did you know?” Norval asked.
“You always get that faraway look in your eyes when something reminds you of him.”
“Maybe I should go see him again. Even if he doesn’t want me there.”
“Come on, you two,” Sadie’s mother urged them, car keys in her hand. “We’d better get going if we have to pick up your friends.”
Sadie put her hand on Norval’s arm and smiled at him. “Just have fun tonight. You can decide what to do about Arnie later.”
– – – – –
Norval spent the summer after graduation working at a day camp. Near the summer’s end, as he watched the last of his campers leave the park with their parents, he saw someone heading toward him. The young man had an unsteady gait. Norval didn’t recognize him at first. And then suddenly he did.
It was Arnie.
“Hey, man,” Arnie greeted him. “They told me you were working here.” For the first time in months, a smile lit Arnie’s face.
Norval drew Arnie into a warm embrace. “Arnie! How’ve you been?”
“Okay. Much better. Sorry for being such a jerk last time I saw you.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Norval was so happy to see his friend that he couldn’t hold a grudge. “Sorry I didn’t come to see you after that. I thought about it, but I worried it’d just upset you.”
“It probably would have. I was going through some rough times back then. I treated a lot of people badly.”
“You were dealing with some hard stuff,” Norval said. “How’s your head now?”
Arnie smiled. “Still healing, I guess. It takes me forever to read a book or take a test. I’m going back to school in the fall, but I’ll have to get extra time to do my assignments. I have a whole specialized education program that’s been worked out for me, though. So it should be all right. With any luck, I can get into Southside Community College. Football is completely out. That goes without saying.”
“You’ll find something else,” Norval said.
“Hah. Yeah. I’m Bouncing Arnie Johnson, aren’t I?”
Norval slapped him on the back and grinned. “You are, man. That’s the truth for sure.”
“Can I buy you a slice somewhere?” Arnie offered.
“Absolutely,” Norval said. “Let’s go.”
Suzanne Weyn has written many books for children and young adults. For a complete list, go to suzanneweynbooks.com. She holds a Masters degree in teaching adolescents and has taught writing at New York University and City College of New York.
