Savior

by A. King Bradley

I’M NOT SURE HOW LONG I STOOD ACROSS THE STREET from Dr. Kate’s home. My family didn’t have a car, so I rode the bus and got dropped off at the end of the street. Once Dr. Kate’s home came into view, I remember stopping and marveling at how nice it was but dreading the idea of taking another step toward it. Luckily, neither she nor any of her neighbors had noticed me yet. I was sure that I had to have looked like some homeless bum wandering about looking for a handout.

  You still have time to escape, I thought as the wind picked up, but who was I kidding? I wasn’t going anywhere. Deep down inside, I knew that I would much rather endure the shame of feeling like a charity case at Dr. Kate’s family dinner than having to deal with my mom if she found out I had been in a fight. She had always been very adamant about me not fighting. The weird thing was that she wasn’t that way when it came to my older brother PJ. I always thought it was because she thought I was too weak to defend myself, but I was starting to think that it may have been because of something else.

  I took a deep breath and held it. Here goes nothing, I thought as I finally exhaled. As I crossed the street, I wondered if my backpack made me look like a dork. It was a little on the larger side and I always wore it with two straps. What does it matter? I thought as I rang the doorbell. It’s only Dr. Kate. Just as I finished that thought, the door to Dr. Kate’s home was opened by the last person I would have expected to see.

  “M-Monica?” I stammered, stricken by shock and confusion.

  “Hello, Adam,” she replied, flatly.

  It was strange seeing her outside of school. She seemed oddly paralyzed as she stood in the doorway, beaming her beautiful smile at me. There was something different about her that wasn't sitting well with me, though. Something about her smile just seemed a bit disingenuous, nothing like the one that she had graced me with earlier that day.

  I tried to force myself to relax, but I was so nervous that I could barely move. How could Dr. Kate do this to me? I thought. Suddenly, it felt like the joke was on me. What was Monica doing there? My snowball’s chance was sure to evaporate as soon as the most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on found out that my family was so poor that they couldn’t afford to properly feed me.

  “What are you doing here, Adam?” Monica questioned as she narrowed her eyes. The strange look on her face as she studied me nearly threw me into a panic attack.

  She’s ashamed to be seen with me in public, I thought. And here I thought she was different. I was a fool for thinking we could ever be friends anyway. We were polar opposites. She was beautiful and popular, while I was skinny and ordinary.

  I had had enough. How dare she look at me with that look in her eyes? Sure, I didn’t know for sure what her strange expression meant, but what else could it mean? Why else would she continue to glance out into the streets if not to check to make sure that no one saw her talking to me?

  “Are you okay, Adam?” Monica asked.

  “I’m fine,” I replied, evenly. I made a conscious effort to soften my facial expression, but I was still upset with her. “I was just leaving.”

  I turned to walk away but stopped in my tracks as Dr. Kate's voice rang out. “And just where are you off to, Mr. Reaper?” Leave it to Dr. Kate to show up out of nowhere the very second I attempted to make my escape. I sighed as the reality of my defeat sank in and I spun around to face them both.

  Dr. Kate was smiling that perfect smile of hers, so I made sure that I didn't look directly at her. That shameful feeling that I got for finding her attractive was a bit heightened due to Monica’s presence, and I that felt they would both be able to tell if they caught me staring.

  “Adam, I believe you have met my daughter, Monica,” Dr. Kate mentioned as she glanced at Monica.

  That explains a lot, I thought. I was actually surprised that I didn't realize they were mother and daughter sooner. Their eyes and smiles were nearly identical.

  “Yes, we are in some of the same classes together,” I mumbled.

  “Well come on in. We are about to start eating.”

  It felt like walking into a museum. Everything inside was so shiny and clean, the polar opposite of the sort of home environment to which I had grown accustomed. I couldn't help but feel out of place. I didn't want to touch anything or even take a seat lest I taint the beautifully crafted furniture that filled the room.

  I finally sat at the dinner table once Dr. Kate noticed that I was the only one still standing. I wanted to remain standing even after she gestured for me to have a seat, but I knew better than to object to her.

  I couldn't believe the spread that lay before us on the table. I had never seen so much mouth-watering food in my life. As the sweet smell of the delectable pot roast wafted over to my side of the table, I actually began to feel a bit excited; that is, until I realized how pathetic I must have looked. The fact that something as simple as a decent home cooked meal could make me that excited was not something that I was particularly proud of.

  I was so hungry that I could have eaten every bit of food on that table, but suddenly I was too ashamed to even take a single bite. I looked around the table, wondering how it must feel to be able to eat that kind of meal every night.

  I studied Dr. Kate’s interactions with her husband, Mr. Stripling. They both seemed so happy that it was almost unbearable for me, mainly because I was so inherently unhappy. It’s not their fault, I thought to myself.

  Mr. Stripling sat at the end of the table across from me. So far, he had not said a word to me besides greeting me as I entered the dining area. I wondered how he felt about me joining them for dinner. He didn't seem to mind, but it was hard to get a good read on him. He suddenly stood and proposed that we all say grace before eating.

  He was surprisingly short for a man, at only about 5’6”. He was very muscular though, seemingly almost as wide as he was tall. Judging from his high and tight haircut and exceedingly neat clothing, I could tell that there was a good chance that he was former military.

  I kept my eyes open and watched them as Mr. Stripling said grace. That environment was so unnatural to me. It felt like I was in a room filled with aliens, and I was there to observe their cultural differences.

  What have I gotten myself into? I thought as Mr. Stripling finished grace and we all prepared to dig in.

  I was relieved that there was not much conversation as we ate. The last thing I wanted was some bloated discussion that was bound to lead to questions about the nature of my presence at their family dinner as well as questions about my own family. I was already embarrassed enough to even be in the room.

  The food was phenomenal. I had never tasted anything that delicious in my entire life. Strangely, the more I ate, the hungrier I became.

  Suddenly, the initial shame that barred me from eating as much as I desired was pushed aside as I gave in to the craving that had ravaged my mind for as long as I could remember. I had plate after plate, only looking up to grab another plate and pile more food onto it. I had long lost count of just how many plates I had polished off when I realized that I was the only one still eating. I looked to the pile of empty plates to my left and a mountain of humiliation hit me like a punch in the stomach. There were nine empty plates as well as the nearly empty plate that lay before me.

  Dr. Kate and her family stared at me in silence. In terms of embarrassing moments, that one pretty much trumped them all. My palms grew sweaty as I averted my eyes from their blank stares and realized that I must have looked like a moron.

  “You’ve got quite the appetite there, son,” Mr. Stripling finally exclaimed.

  I couldn’t speak. Partially because of the unchewed food that still filled my mouth, but mostly because I was too shocked and embarrassed by how much food I had eaten.

  “You know how athletes are, Dad,” Monica commented. “The more food, the more energy, right?”

  What is she talking about? I thought. I was no athlete. I wasn't sure why she said that, but it seemed to work as the awkwardness of the moment vani
shed.

  Dr. Kate chuckled and smiled at Mr. Stripling. “She’s right, you know? Nathan, remember how much you would eat after football practice during college?” Dr. Kate looked at me. “Adam, please don’t feel embarrassed. Back then, I couldn’t get this one to stop eating until the following morning sometimes.”

  “What sports do you play, Adam?” Mr. Stripling asked.

  “Basketball. He plays basketball,” Monica interjected.

  I could tell by the delighted expression that appeared on Mr. Stripling’s face that he was a basketball enthusiast. I knew that he was probably about to start a basketball conversation, of which I wanted no part in. I decided to make my escape before I exposed the holes in Monica’s cover for me by not being able to successfully navigate my way through a legitimate sports conversation. The truth is, I had never actually played or watched much of the game, so I doubted I would've been very convincing once we starting talking about it.

  “It’s getting kind of late. I should probably head home,” I said, hoping that no one would object.

  Dr. Kate checked her watch, then looked to Monica. “Monica, grab a few containers so Adam can take some food with him for the road.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Kate,” I mumbled. I wanted to object to taking extra food home but of course I knew better. She was Good Cop at the moment and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as I could.

  “Do you have anyone picking you up, Adam?” Dr. Kate asked.

  “I was going to see if one of my friends could swing by.”

  “Actually, I can have Monica drop you off. I'm sure it's not that far of a drive.”

  “That’s okay, Dr. Kate. I’m sure Jaso-”

  “Adam, there is no reason to have you wait for someone to pick you up when one of us can simply drive you over,” Dr. Kate firmly stated.

  I nodded my head without replying.

  “Monica, grab my car keys and drop off Adam at his home, would you dear?” Dr. Kate asked as Monica entered with four plastic containers packed with food.

  That strange look momentarily flashed onto Monica’s face again, causing the butterflies in my stomach to stir. She’s ashamed of me, I thought, as I nervously tapped my fingers on the table. She has to be.

  Monica was silent as she left the room to fetch Dr. Kate’s keys. Dr. Kate and Mr. Stripling both stood, prompting me to do the same.

  “Thanks for having me over, Dr. Kate,” I said with a warm smile.

  “Any time, Adam. We enjoyed your company.”

  I walked over to shake their hands but Dr. Kate insisted on a hug. I wasn't much of a hugger but I didn’t mind hugging her. It did feel kind of weird with Mr. Stripling watching, though.

  I paused as Mr. Stripling extended his massive right hand for a handshake. Despite his vertical challenges, he still looked like a man that could take care of himself in a fight. His forearms were the size of footballs and his hands could have doubled as catcher’s mitts. I looked down at my wiry arms and laughed inside of my head at the drastic discrepancy.

  I figured he would appreciate a firm handshake, so I put a little extra on it as I grabbed his hand.

  “Ouch!” Mr. Stripling blurted as he winced in pain. Confused, I quickly let go of his hand and glanced from him to Dr. Kate. Is he joking? I thought. He has to be joking, right?

  “That’s some grip you have there, kid! And people say I have a firm handshake!”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Stripling!” I declared, hoping that he wasn't serious.

  “Don’t worry about it, Adam. I’ll be fine. Just take it easy on me next time, will ya?” Mr. Stripling quipped.

  This has to be a joke! I thought. Then again, if he was joking, he had to be one of the greatest actors of all time because he did seem to genuinely be in pain. But how could my grip have hurt the hand of a man whose arms and hands were twice the size of mine? I left the Stripling’s home with only one question echoing throughout my mind.

  What is happening to me?

  I INSISTED ON MONICA DRIVING MR. STRIPLING’S SUV INSTEAD of Dr. Kate’s sedan. I never trusted sedans because of my weight. Sure, I looked small, but my true weight was over 700 pounds and I wasn't sure of how Dr. Kate's car would handle that.

  It was already dark out when we hit the road. I glanced over at Monica as she drove and once again wondered why she had had that weird expression on her face earlier when she answered the door.

  “Why did you tell your parents I was an athlete?” I finally asked.

  Monica glanced at me, then back to the road. She bit her lip as she pondered her answer.

  “I don’t know. You looked embarrassed, to be honest. I just wanted to help.”

  “So you felt sorry for me?” I groaned. I hated being pitied and I knew she could hear that in my voice.

  “Adam, I was just trying to help,” Monica snapped.

  “Well, I didn’t ask for your help,” I shot back. As soon as I said that, I knew I shouldn’t have.

  “Well, excuse me for trying to be nice!” Monica grumbled.

  I didn’t look at her. I had no desire to see her face unless that familiar joyful expression was upon it. At that point, I knew she was sure to have an expression closer to the one that she had in my nightmares.

  “I didn’t ask for this, you know. Your mother made me come over.”

  “Adam, no one’s judging you! Why can’t you get that through your head?”

  “Did I say that you were judging me?!” I scolded, obviously irritated. The conversation wasn’t going anything like I had hoped.

  “No, but the way you’ve been acting the entire night screams it! It’s not a big deal that you ate a lot of food, and it’s not a big deal that my mother invited you over for dinner in the first place!”

  She stopped the vehicle at a stop sign.

  “So why did you look so embarrassed when you answered the door, then?! You didn’t want anyone to see you talking to me, did you?” I fumed.

  I could see her glaring at me in my peripheral vision but I didn’t look directly at her.

  “Are you serious?” she demanded.

  “Yes, I’m serious. You don’t think I can tell when someone is embarrassed to be seen with me?”

  “You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, mister!”

  “You can let me out right here,” I said firmly.

  “You cannot be serious. I’ll let you out when we get to your house. Stop being such a baby.”

  There was no way I was letting her get anywhere near my house. I had had enough of her judging me for one night. Who knows what she would have thought if I had allowed her to see that piece of crap I called a home. The silver lining to our fight was that I didn’t have to come up with another reason for her not to drive me all the way there.

  “I’ll walk from here. I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” I grumbled as I unlocked the door and angrily grabbed my backpack and exited the SUV. I thought about opening my pack and throwing the food Dr. Kate had given me back into the vehicle, but I decided not to be that dramatic.

  “Adam, are you seriously choosing to walk home rather than accept a ride? Do you seriously have that much pride?”

  That was it. I had taken as much as I could for one night. I turned and glared at her, shocking her with the iciness of my gaze. “You're darn right, I do. I have way too much pride to accept anything from a spoiled brat like you! I'm surprised you even remembered my name!”

  I could see the anger smoldering under the rigid expression that she was forcing to keep on her face. Suddenly, I realized that I had probably just made the most monumental of all mistakes.

  “That is exactly why I was embarrassed when you opened the door,” Monica stated, her voice eerily calm. “I was embarrassed that you would find out that I was the principal’s daughter and judge me, just like they did at my last school.”

  I could have punched myself in the face for being so stupid. It felt like my heart had dropped into my stomach when sh
e finished her sentence.

  “Monica, I-”

  “Save it, Adam. You were right. You are better off walking from here.” She turned her attention to the road once more.

  “Monica-”

  “Can you shut the door please?” she snapped, still focused on the road.

  I shut the door and watched her speed away as I stood in silence and contemplated the magnitude of how badly I had just blown it with the girl of my dreams.

  9. NORMAL