Joshua's Island (James Madison Series Book 1)

by Patrick Hodges

  “Aww, do we have to? It's Friday!” she said.

  Eve sighed. “Fine, then, go watch TV or something.” Sophie needed no other encouragement. She and Kirsten turned and ran out of the room.

  I smiled. “They're really … something,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, it took a long time to get them that way,” she said. “And it looks like they're already in love with you.”

  And boom, all the blood rushed back to my face again.

  Sensing my embarrassment, Eve took my hand and let me into her backyard, which had a small pool and a rusty-looking porch swing. We sat on the swing in silence for a few minutes, rocking gently in the cool autumn breeze. Eve leaned her head on my shoulder, clasped my hand and closed her eyes. It was obvious this swing was one of her favorite places in the world, her own little Island. It was a beautiful, peaceful moment, one I knew I would treasure for a long time.

  I looked at Eve resting comfortably on my shoulder, and my thoughts began to race.

  She's so beautiful. She's so amazing. How did this happen to me? How am I here, with her? Things like this aren't supposed to happen to guys like me! Would she even be with me if what had happened, hadn't happened? Is she my friend because she has no other choice?

  Think, Joshua. You're at her house. You're meeting her family. She's holding you. She's BEEN holding you. She cares about you! You care about her! You … love her …

  There was no denying it anymore. I loved her. I absolutely loved her. I would go anywhere, do anything, for her. But what if she doesn't feel the same way? I know she LIKES me, but does she 'like me', like me?

  I looked at her lips, wanting so bad to lean over and kiss them. But all I could picture was her pulling away, slapping my face, ordering me out of her house, out of her life. I went back to staring into space again. I can't keep this up for much longer, or I'm gonna go crazy.

  After a few minutes, I finally broke the silence. “Eve … thank you. For doing this. For me.”

  She squeezed my hand. “It has to be done, Joshua.” She opened her eyes and straightened up, looking at me with genuine concern. “Rhonda threatened to have you beaten half to death, but that's just crazy. If she did that, she'd be in more trouble than even her rich daddy could get her out of.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “But that doesn't mean she's let you off the hook either. I know Rhonda … she probably has something horrible in mind for you, and I can't just sit back and wait for her to follow through on her threat. I haven't heard one word from her since she banished me. I'm surprised she hasn't spoken to you either.”

  I blinked, and she saw it. I tried staring into space, but my whole body had tensed up as soon as she said it, and this girl could read me like a book. And just like that, the look on her face went from concern to annoyance.

  “Oh, my God … she has, hasn't she?”

  I nodded meekly.

  “When?”

  “Last week,” I said. “I didn't want to worry you.”

  “What happened?”

  “I ran into her on the way to the bus. She told me she was going to have me beaten up every day if I didn't stop seeing you.”

  She suddenly looked scared. “What did you say?”

  “Well, first I begged her to just let it go. Then she offered me a deal: if I break off all contact with you, she'd have the bully squad leave me alone from now on.”

  She made a face. “That sounds like a Rhonda deal.”

  I grinned. “Like I'd ever believe a word she says. I told her to kiss my ass.”

  “You didn't,” she said, gaping.

  “I did,” I said, grasping her hand.

  Her face softened again, and she laid her head back on my shoulder. “You're nuts, you know that?” she said, smiling.

  “You may be right,” I replied with a wry grin.

  Eve's mother Liz arrived home about thirty minutes later, and she, too, greeted me with a warm hug. She was quite attractive for a middle-aged woman, with sharp features, dirty blond hair and a definite don't-mess-with-me air about her.

  I handed over the letter from my mother, and she seemed satisfied that it met the legal requirements for parental consent. The three of us sat down around the Devereaux's dining room table, and Liz brought out a legal pad and a small tape recorder.

  With a warm, welcoming look in her eyes, she said to me, “Joshua, before we begin, I want you to know how grateful I am.” I was already nervous as hell being in this situation, but this comment really took me by surprise.

  “Eve's father and I work hard so we can provide a good home for our girls, but we can't be with them every minute of the day. We want them to be in an environment where they can be happy and safe, and to hear otherwise upsets me greatly.”

  She regarded me with a kind smile. “You've been there for Eve, in ways her father and I couldn't. It's rare to find someone of such strong character at your age, and I'm so glad she has you in her life.”

  I could only bow my head at this. No adult outside my own family had ever paid me such a compliment.

  “As a criminal attorney, I've sat right next to some of the most violent people society has produced. Some of them had committed horrible crimes, done unspeakable things. Sometimes against children.” She paused, letting the comment sink in.

  “Nothing makes me angrier than when children are the victims of violence, even if that violence is inflicted on them by other children. I've heard your story from Eve, and now I'd like to get the same story from you. On the record.” She pointed at the tape recorder. “If there is any way I can help you, I will.”

  I was amazed. Could this really be the answer? “I … I don't know what to say. Thank you.” I met Liz's gaze, thankful that I'd not yet made the decision to ask Eve to take our relationship to a more serious level, or this conversation might be a lot more awkward. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Just tell me your story. I've already heard most of it from Eve, but I need to get your version as well.”

  She clicked the Record button, and for the third time this week, I told another person what the last three years had been like for me. Almost as soon as I began, Kirsten and Sophie silently came into the dining room, sat down and paid rapt attention. About twenty minutes later, I concluded my story with Rhonda's threat, as well as my equally vocal response … minus the profanity, of course.

  “Joshua,” Liz asked, going down a list of pre-prepared questions, “what is it that you want?”

  I glanced over at Eve, who took my hand in hers. “I want to not be afraid anymore. I want to be like every other kid … to come to school, to learn, to have friends, to play soccer …” I smiled. “… maybe even meet a nice girl.” Eve grinned.

  This was so difficult to talk about, especially after years of keeping all of it from my own family. “I'm so tired of being afraid, all the time,” I continued. “But you know what I'm most afraid of? That one day the bullies will go too far, hurt me so bad I'll never recover. Maybe even kill me.” I could feel myself getting choked up. “I'll be gone. Dead and gone, at thirteen. And no one will remember … that I was even there.”

  “Why didn't you ask your parents for help, Joshua?” Liz asked.

  “I was … ashamed to. I've had to learn to do things on my own, and I didn't want them to think there was something I couldn't …” My voice was getting hoarse, and I couldn't finish the sentence. “I couldn't …” Emotions were churning their way to the surface, so I buried my face in my hands and lowered my head.

  Eve put her arm around me. “It's okay, Joshua.”

  I was crying openly now. “It's been so hard … I've been so alone …”

  Eve tightened her grasp. I looked up at Liz, who still maintained her professional calm. “You're not alone anymore, Joshua,” Liz said. “Look around you.”

  I looked around the table, at Liz, Kirsten and Sophie. Sophie was in tears. Then I looked at Eve, who nodded. “There are people here who support you, Joshua,” Liz said. “Bu
t you need help. All you have to do is ask for it.”

  Three years of pain and suffering, mixed with intense relief, overwhelmed me. I just stared at Liz, tears running down my face. “Help me,” I whispered. “Please … help me.”

  Liz clicked off the tape recorder and scribbled some more notes on the legal pad. “Thank you, Joshua. You did great.”

  Sophie jumped off her chair, skirted the table and hugged me. This time, I hugged her back. I was so overwhelmed by the gesture, I couldn't form any response.

  She just held me, this amazing child, until my crying stopped. When we faced each other again, I saw a familiar look on Sophie's face. It was the same one that Eve had given me when she sat down next to me on the bus for the first time. She smiled, and I immediately felt better.

  “Thank you, Sophie,” I said quietly.

  “Thank you … for being Eve's friend,” she replied, and walked back to her chair.

  Liz offered me a paper towel, which I used to blow my nose and wipe the tears from my face. “I will help you, Joshua,” she said. “Help may not come overnight, but it will come.”

  I nodded in reply, my insides finally settling down.

  Liz stood up. “It was lovely to meet you, Joshua,” she said. “Eve, can you walk him home?”

  It was getting late, so I grabbed my backpack, gave another grateful hug to Liz, Kirsten and Sophie, and Eve and I left.

  When we got to the halfway point between our houses, I stopped. Eve stopped as well. I looked at her, and I realized our relationship was so much deeper than I'd thought. She not only considered me a friend, but she was deeply concerned about my safety, my well-being, so much so that she'd involved her mother, a strong woman with a great deal of authority.

  “Thank you, Eve,” I said. “For everything. You're … the best friend I've ever had.”

  She gave me another big hug. It was the warmest hug she'd ever given me. No other words were necessary.

  “Thank your mother for me,” I said. “And tell your sisters how awesome they are.”

  She smiled. “Will do. Have a good weekend.”

  “You too.”

  I walked the rest of the way home alone. I had more things to think about now than I ever had before. And on top of everything else, soccer season started tomorrow.

  Chapter 28

  DAY 39

  EVE

  Not for the first time, Joshua was the main topic of discussion around the dinner table. I was sad that he hadn't gotten to meet my father, who thankfully didn't have to work late today. He just listened intently to all the compliments Kirsten and Sophie were heaping upon him. I figured if I were to bring Joshua to my house again, I was probably going to have to fight my sisters just to be near him. The thought made me smile.

  My dad took it all in, including the story Joshua told my mom. I'd told him basically the same story, but to hear first-hand that I hadn't been exaggerating made him very concerned. “Do you believe him, dear?” he asked my mom.

  “Yes, I do,” she replied. “I saw it in his eyes. You can't fake that. Most boys his age would probably have cracked by now. He's a strong kid.” She smiled. “And all three of our girls are smitten with him.”

  Dad raised his eyebrows. “Is that right?” He looked at Kirsten and Sophie, whose faces had turned red.

  He turned back to my mom. “If what he says is true …”

  “It's appalling,” Mom said, finishing his sentence. “You can just bet for every act of violence that gets reported, there are probably a dozen others that don't. And no one is being held accountable. That's totally unacceptable.”

  “What are you going to do, Mom?” I asked.

  “I'm going to talk to Mr. Baird myself, see if he's as you and Joshua described him.” She smiled at me. “And then we'll go from there.” She reached over and squeezed my hand. “One way or another, things are going to change. Trust me.”

  * * *

  I slept more peacefully that night than I had in weeks.

  Chapter 29

  DAY 40

  JOSHUA

  I loved soccer. Unlike basketball or baseball, it was a sport I could play without my small size being a handicap. It was also the only social interaction I had with other boys that didn't involve being pounded on, which was cool.

  It was unfortunate that I'd developed asthma in the last few years, so I couldn't go all-out like I did when I first started playing, but I was still pretty quick on my feet. I was no good at long sprints, and my dad knew it. I wasn't big enough to be goalie, I wasn't tough enough to play defense, and I didn't have the stamina to play halfback, so my dad put me at right wing, where I could not only be part of the scoring action but conserve my energy when our opponents were on the offense.

  I had a lot of new teammates this year, mostly sixth- and seventh-graders that I didn't know. I was glad of this, because it meant that they wouldn't look at me the way most of my eighth-grade classmates did. I could be myself around them, if only on the soccer field. The only two eighth-graders that were on my team, Rick and Jerry, had, thankfully, never given me a hard time. We were all pretty small – except Rick, who Dad naturally made the goalie – but we were fast, so I was looking forward to the season ahead.

  It was weird being on the same team as Rick. We'd once been friends, years before, despite the difference in our statures. He was macho but friendly, an utter goofball, and that was why I got along with him. He rode a six-foot unicycle to school, for crying out loud … if that doesn't tell you what you need to know about him, I don't know what does.

  Right after fifth grade, he'd moved out of state because his father, a manager for some big manufacturing corporation, had to relocate his whole family somewhere in the Midwest while he oversaw the development of some new factory. Eight months ago, though, Rick came back, the project having been completed, I guess.

  Rick was a jock by anyone's standards, but he didn't hang out with the popular guys, most of whom were also jocks. Rick spent his recess periods on the basketball court, playing two-on-two with his buddies Damon, Rodney and Wade. He'd been doing that since his return, and he'd barely made any effort to speak to me in that time.

  We'd only had one brief practice session earlier in the week, just to get acquainted with each other. We were a total disorganized mess in our first game, but thankfully, the other team was even more so. We won 5-3, and though I was exhausted afterwards, I felt more optimistic about the direction my life was going than I ever had before. I had new friends, a new support system, and a new team to have fun with. And, of course, Eve. What more could a guy possibly want?

  That night, I decided the time had finally come to ask Eve the “big question.” I'd tried to stifle every romantic thought that had come into my head, and it was gnawing a hole in my stomach. We hadn't been on a proper date, but what did that matter? Her family really seemed to like me, and we were holding each other regularly, both on the bus and on the Island. What was I waiting for? What was I so afraid of?

  Well, rejection, that's what. Did she feel the same way about me? I remembered how quickly she'd picked up on my deception after she'd asked me about Rhonda, and I knew I couldn't possibly keep my feelings buried any longer.

  Monday was Columbus Day, so there was no school. The whole weekend, I practiced asking her, and I prayed that Tuesday was going to be bright and sunny.

  Chapter 30

  DAY 42

  EVE

  I didn't hate going to school – the 'learning' part of it, anyway – but it was still nice to get an extra day off from it every now and then. It had poured rain all day Sunday and, unfortunately, it still hadn't let up by this morning. I lay on my bed, listening to music on my earphones, watching the window as raindrops splattered against it. I could also see a large tree in our next-door neighbor's yard being buffeted around by the strong wind that was blowing. Not much to do but stay inside.

  Joshua and I had agreed, right at the start of our friendship, that we wouldn't spend a lot of time t
alking on the phone, and I regretted making that agreement now. I missed the sound of his voice. I wanted to be with him. I wanted to feel the warmth of his arm around me. I wanted to look into his eyes. I wanted to see his amazing smile.

  My iPod began to play a slow, tender ballad, a beautiful song that Joshua had introduced me to called “King of Rome,” and in my mind, my bedroom carpet became a dance floor. Joshua was there, and we were slow dancing. We were dressed like royalty. Dozens of my classmates were watching us. No, scratch that, we're alone. Yeah, that's better. I closed my eyes and let the daydream carry me away.

  We shuffle our feet around, rotating in a slow, romantic circle. We're holding each other so close, I can feel him breathing. Am I trembling? The song reaches its climax, and he faces me. He stares affectionately into my eyes.

  “I love you, Eve,” he says, smiling that awesome smile.

  “I love you too, Joshua,” I reply.

  The song reaches its outro, and the volume slowly ebbs.

  He leans in and kisses me. I close my eyes and accept the kiss. His lips are so soft. I tighten my arms around him, and feel him do the same. It's magical. One of the most magical moments of my …

  And then my iPod started the next song, a raucous party anthem by Pink that totally shattered the daydream. I opened my eyes with a start, yanking the earphones out. I turned off the iPod, trying to hit the “Rewind” button on that glorious fantasy … but the image had faded.

  He likes me. I KNOW he likes me. He called me his best friend. Why won't he ask me out? Why won't he make a move on me? He's so good with words, why can't he say the ones that I want to hear?

  Sigh. He's thirteen, Eve. Just like you. Just like those two jerks who only went out with you so they could feel you up. He's never been in a relationship with a girl before. He probably doesn't know what to say. He's probably terrified he's going to say the wrong thing …

  Maybe I should ask him instead. No, maybe not. Guys feel more like guys if they make the first move, or so I've heard. But how much longer can I wait?