like me?
No. I tried. I really did.
She might not believe me.
She might think I’m damaged in the head.
Many people do. Lots of people.
But she likes you, Jeremy.
She’s pretty intense.
That’s one of the things I like about her.
Me too, I said,
although I realized now
that maybe he’d see
I really did “like”
her.
I guess you could
say I
had a
crush.
I was thinking
maybe I shouldn’t
get involved
with this Jenson Hayes.
I guess Jenson saw the look on my face.
Jeremy, he said. Old Man told me
to tell you that you should
always drink
from the mountain stream
and not
city water.
Of course.
I knew what Old Man was saying.
Sometimes my grandfather
can be a pain in the ass.
But we really have to do something
about Thomas.
Revenge? I asked.
That didn’t sound right.
My grandfather never
believed in revenge.
He never even spoke of getting revenge
against all the Europeans who stole our
land and fucked up
a sweet way of life.
No, dude. Not revenge.
We need to change him
so he can see
the light.
Back With the Living
Final period at school French class
I am wondering why I am learning French
and not the language of
my grandparents. Old Man
kept trying to explain to me when I was young
that what language you use shapes the way you think.
English, he said, is
a language of things. Every thing has to have a name.
Our old tongue
was better at showing relationships. Even people’s identity
showed connections. Your name
in the old language would not be Jeremy Stone
but something else
and you would be
“Boy with strength and rock-hard courage
but kind heart.”
I thought he was goofing
but maybe not.
OM also told me
there were no curse words
in our old language.
When you wanted to curse someone
and say something really unkind, he said,
you had to use English ’cause
there are so many really unkind words
in that language.
Language expresses the heart and soul of a culture,
he lectured to me when I was young
but he could tell I wasn’t paying good attention.
Funny to think that that was
way back when
my grandfather still had a body
to put clothes on each morning.
Someday, he’d say,
I’ll have to give back this ole body you see here.
It’s only borrowed, he said,
to trap my spirit for a little while
so I can walk upright
and give advice to my
grandson.
Thomas Heaney in French Class
I knew it was too soon to confront
Paper Clip. And I knew he’d be pissed
at me
for beating him fair and square in wrestling.
He saw me looking at him
and shot me
a really nasty look. Silently mouthed something that must have been Fuck You Indian.
Well, at least he didn’t think I was Italian anymore.
Just then, Ms. Framboise
called on me
’cause I wasn’t paying attention.
Monsieur Stone, she said, or perhaps you would be Monsieur Pierre, Oui?
Monsieur Jerome Pierre sounds like the name of a Parisian movie actor.
Paper Clip made a face and held his nose.
Ms. Framboise asked me a question in French.
I had
no clue
but I answered anyway
with something stuck in my head from a previous class.
I said, La neige est froide aujourd’hui.
Which she told me later meant:
The snow is cold today.
Which was not the answer to the question.
The class laughed.
Paper Clip, I think, nearly peed himself.
I did my usual:
turned to stone, me Jerome Pierre,
and that’s when I saw
Jenson Hayes sitting in what had been an empty desk over on the side of the room near the windows.
He too was mouthing some words.
And then the words were clear as a bell in my head,
so I added,
Pardonnez moi, mademoiselle. Mon francaise est terrible. Excusez-moi.
And I could tell Ms. Framboise was impressed.
Jenson had given
me just the right thing to say
and everyone stopped laughing.
Hey, Jenson, I said silently in my head.
Will you be there for me on the final exam?
I could really use your help.
Jenson nodded but then I heard him say,
That’s cheating, you know.
And I realized it was
but then having a dead dude give you answers for a final exam
seemed like
a cool way
to survive French.
The Troof
When I was young
the Th sound always came out like F.
I’m better now
but sometimes
I retreat and talk like I did
when I was
little.
But then, I still don’t talk much;
mostly listen
and watch.
I don’t know why
but I don’t think I was ever capable of lying.
My mom
sometimes when she was high
in a weird way
(she wasn’t always weird when high,
sometimes she was funny, sometimes nice)
but when it got ugly
she’d accuse me of stealing her smokes
or eating all the food in the fridge
Jeremy, come here, she’d screech
Did you do this?
No, Mom.
Are you lying to your mother?
No. I’m telling
the troof.
The troof.
But she didn’t always believe me.
and she’d get weirder, angrier
and more and more not-my-mom.
So I’d go ahead and say,
Yeah, Mom. I ate the food in the fridge
(even though it was moldy sometimes
and green and smelled bad)
and I stole your smokes and sold them to kids
(which I would never do, believe me).
But my mom would hug me then
and cry and say, I love you, Jeremy
and I forgive you. I wish your father
was here.
So I guess I was lying about
saying I never lied.
But my mom settled down mostly and got rid of all the really bad addictions except smoking and drinking and sometimes thinking too much about men. And my dad was still Out West.
And me
I was sticking with
the troof as best I could.
I, Jeremy Stone, swear to say the troof, the whole troof and nothing but the troof, so help me God, which is why you have to believe me when I tell you about Old Man and about Jenson Hayes. I wouldn’t, couldn’t make something like that up.
Yeah,
so help me God.
And by the way, God
please help me figure out
how I’m supposed to help Jenson.
The Troof Versus Paper Clip Heaney
I mean
I really didn’t like the pressure,
didn’t like it
when I knew
I HAD
to do something.
Me,
I prefer to hang back
and watch others
and let
things
happen.
I don’t like
confrontation,
don’t like
getting too involved,
don’t like
getting
involved at all.
I
like
invisibility.
Sorry, dude,
Jenson said.
Sorry, but … you know.
Yeah, I knew.
Personally, I think Old Man told Thomas
where I would be after school,
down walking along the little creek with
the floating plastic pop bottles,
old tires, and shopping carts
thinking that someday I’d come and clean this place up,
get rid of the garbage
and help this sad little creek out.
I guess I was just standing there listening to the water
talking to me
saying,
We know you, brother.
We flow down from the hills
where some of your dead relations
reside.
I felt less alone hearing that voice
but still kept feeling sorry for the stream
and staring at a couple of
used condoms
hanging from the branches of
birch trees.
And there was Paper Clip
with two other guys I didn’t know.
That’s Robert and Tyler,
Jenson said. A couple of
fucks.
I was thinking about Geronimo again
’cause his people had been ambushed
and then he fought back
with the same tactic.
Jeremy Stone, right? Thomas said.
I nodded an Indian nod,
made my back straight.
Worried?
About what?
Us?
It was what you might call
kind of classic.
A scene played out
since
the beginning of
time.
Right, Old Man suddenly said,
like a bad TV show,
like the old
cowboys and Indians.
Quick, change the channel.
So I told Thomas
(and Robert and Tyler)
the troof.
Jenson says
I’m supposed to
talk with you.
Who?
Jenson.
Jenson Hayes.
Paper Clip stared at me.
Robert and Tyler (those two very ordinary
looking white boys) looked puzzled.
You know.
Can’t say I do. He some asshole
friend of yours?
Not really, I said.
Not when he was alive.
Whaddaya mean?
I sighed. I didn’t ask
to get involved, I admitted.
Involved in what?
This?
What THIS is
is me coming here
to beat the crap
out of you.
(Thomas
was getting his old mean self
back in focus.)
Do you hate me?
Of course I do. We all do.
(Guess this meant Tyler and
Robert—
the Tybob twins.)
Do you hate a lot of people?
I hate people who are weak.
I’ll take that as a yes.
I hate people who …
I cut him off. Yeah, I said.
I know what you do to
people you think
are weak.
So?
So, I continue, Jenson says
you can’t do that to anyone
ever again.
The two white boys were still puzzled.
Fuck Jenson.
You can’t tell me what to do.
Of course not, I said.
You need to decide
that for yourself.
I’m only telling you
the troof.
And, yes,
it came out with
the F instead of
the Th and I felt my breath
rushing out in a warm burst
between my
lower front teeth
and
my
top lip.
What Happened After That
I couldn’t see him
but I heard Jenson’s voice again.
Jenson told me that someone eventually found Caitlan’s stolen cell phone and a version of the text message sent to Jenson was still on it. So I repeated that information to Tommy.
He’s here now,
I added
just for flair.
Hey, I was now
writing the script
and I was tired
of cowboys and Indians.
Geronimo!
I still don’t know why Thomas didn’t beat the crap out of me as in the original script. I don’t think I fully got to him. But he was confused the way people are when you rewrite the old cliché story, especially when you bring dead people back into the mix. Old Man kept coaching, saying, You’re doing just fine, Jeremy. Don’t be afraid.
And I wasn’t afraid.
What could he do to me?
The phone thing was getting to him, maybe.
Evidence.
Paper Clip liked to sneak around
and do his nasty work knowing
he wouldn’t get caught.
What cell phone? he asked.
I don’t know about any
stolen cell phone.
But Jenson had nothing on this.
And Old Man just shrugged.
So I said squat.
And that
seemed to work.
Thomas Paper Clip
gave me the finger
and threatened me
with a look.
Tybob just stood there too
like they were waiting for
Thomas to tell them
what to do.
So I decided
to walk
ever so calmly
away.
My back was
to them
and they could have
tromped me
but they didn’t.
And the sad little
creek
just said,
You did good.
Just keep walking
and we’ll watch your back.
So I silently told the creek I would come back someday soon and haul those rusty shopping carts out of the water and clean up all the garbage.
The flowing water just laughed.
What the Water Said Next
Good work, Jeremy.
Water runs downhill.
Maybe you can teach those boys
to take that hate they have
and turn the energy into something good.
I was thinking that maybe it wasn’t the
water speaking but Old Man
or maybe even Jenson Hayes
but the water (or whatever)
was reading my thoughts
and said,
Stoney,
it’s all the same.
Spirit is spirit.
Well, I didn’t want to argue with that
but
I didn’t think this thing was over with Thomas
and I wondered how he would ambush me next time.
So what do I do now? I asked the water.
Go home
and make supper for
your mom.
She’s not
feeling too good.
The Evening Meal
Yeah, my mom was pretty low. Depressed.
She was reading a book
called A Woman’s Guide to Mental Health.
Whoever wrote this book doesn’t understand
the first thing about women, she said.
Who wrote it?
A man, she said.
A doctor.
He doesn’t know
diddly.
Well, I knew I had to do something to try to get my mom out of her mood.
Lasagna, I said.
I’m going to make some
Lasagna.
She looked up at me
and smiled,
well,
tried to
smile.
How’s school, Jeremy?
I got out the lasagna pan and
spaghetti sauce
and pasta.
I think I’m learning a little French, I said.
And psychology (although that wasn’t really a school subject).
What does psychology say about depression?
I’m not sure
but maybe it happens when you feel
overwhelmed with everything.
Well, that’s me.
Did you learn
how to fix it
so a person
can feel better?
I shrugged and continued to make lasagna.
They say drugs and alcohol don’t work.
A little halfhearted laugh from Mom.
My son,
the genius, she said.
What else?
They say you have to stay busy, get involved
Jeremy Stone Page 4
