“What are we doing?” I asked Uncle Jake.
“Some more reconnaissance—another word for gathering intelligence—and surveillance. We are going to watch Nathan and learn some more about him. Keep an eye on him.”
“Okay,” I told Uncle Jake. I wasn’t sure why we needed to do this, but it seemed like a pretty cool thing.
So we sat and watched. And watched. And watched some more.
And Nathan stayed there, hanging around the flagpole while other kids got picked up or jumped on their bikes and went home. After a while, the last kid and even all the camp counselors left. Once everyone was gone, Nathan hung around for a while on his own. Then, finally, he walked down the street, heading toward town.
As he walked, it didn’t even seem like he was going anywhere. We stood up and walked pretty far behind him so he wouldn’t notice us, but we could still see him. He would stop and look at things. He would pick things up off the ground, look at them for a while, and then either put them in his pocket or toss them back on the ground. He would do little tricks or stunts on benches or curbs or stairs, jumping on them and off them or over them, doing spins or kicks or waving his arms. Sometimes he would stop in front of houses and just look at them for a while.
We would stop every so often to hide behind something so Nathan wouldn’t see us. Then, every time Nathan would almost leave our vision, Uncle Jake would start walking again. We would get a little closer, then stop somewhere behind him or maybe duck into a side street, where we could still see him.
After a while, Nathan finally seemed to get where he was going: the parking lot of the Quickie Mart store. When Nathan got there, he went over to a little tree, hung the plastic bag that he’d been carrying in the branches, and sat down on the curb, leaning up against the tree trunk. It seemed like he had done this before.
When some people would walk in and out of the store, Nathan would say hi to them, like he knew them. One of the people went in the store, and when they came back out, they gave Nathan a hot dog. Another person that Nathan talked to for a minute came out of the store and handed Nathan a can of soda. Other people just said hi to him and then carried on. Occasionally, people would hand him empty cans or bottles that they had in their cars.
It was very strange.
Nathan stayed there for a long time, sitting on the curb. He folded up the wrapper of his hot dog about ten different ways. Once he finished the can of soda, he tore off part of the hot dog wrapper, made it into a little ball, and then started trying to throw it into the can, like a miniature game of basketball. Every time he “scored,” he made a new little ball and started throwing that one, too.
When people handed him cans or plastic bottles, he would crush them and put them into his plastic bag, hanging in the tree. Finally, after a pretty long time, Nathan grabbed his bag, waved to the store cashier through the window, and walked down the street.
We followed him once again. This time he stopped at a grocery store. He went in with his bag packed full of bottles and cans and walked back out a few minutes later with the bag empty.
“He just turned in those cans for recycling. He might have made a dollar or two,” Uncle Jake said.
Once he was done turning in his recycling, he looked through the garbage cans at the grocery store and found a few more bottles. He also went and talked to some of the people who pulled up in cars. We couldn’t hear him because we were standing in a store across the street, but he must have been asking for cans or bottles, because sometimes people would give them to him.
After he gathered up some more cans and bottles, he went back into the grocery store. This time he came out with a little ready-made sandwich that he ate while sitting on a bench.
“Looks like he has to work to get his food,” Uncle Jake said. It sure did.
Once Nathan finished his sandwich, he was on the move once more. Again, it didn’t seem like he was heading anywhere fast. He took his time, stopping and fidgeting with things, looking at things, picking things up and tossing them.
He walked for a pretty long ways, through downtown and past all the stores, some of which he went into. Then he walked out to the other side of town and over the railroad tracks, to where there weren’t houses anymore but warehouses and little run-down stores and places where there were car repair shops and welding shops. Some of the places looked pretty rough.
We continued to follow Nathan from a couple of blocks away.
Nathan would stop by some of the shops. I could tell he must do this every day, because the people in the shops recognized him and said hi. Sometimes he would come out of the shops carrying a half-empty bag of potato chips or maybe a part of a cookie.
“Well, now we know where Nathan gets his meals,” Uncle Jake said.
“I guess so,” I replied. But I hadn’t really thought about that. In fact, in my mind it seemed kinda cool that he was getting all this food from people. But when Uncle Jake said that, I realized that it wasn’t cool AT ALL. This is where Nathan had to get his food.
Finally, Nathan got to a building that he stopped in front of. The building was made of brick, but it was really run-down. Outside was a sign that said LEM’S METAL WORKS. There was a door off to the side of that. Nathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He opened the door and disappeared inside. A few seconds later, we saw a light come on upstairs. It was pretty obvious that he was home alone.
“Come on, Marc, let’s go,” Uncle Jake said as he motioned with his head to start walking away and back toward the rec center. By this time, it was really late and really dark. It was definitely past my bedtime. “Seems like his life is a lot different than yours, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes, Uncle Jake. It sure does.”
“What kind of kid do you think you would be if that was your life? Do you think you would be as nice as you are? Do you think you would be a little jealous of other kids, with their nice snacks packed for them every day and the nice houses they live in?”
“Probably, Uncle Jake,” I told him. He was right. “It almost seems like Nathan lives in a totally different world than me.”
“That’s because he does live in a totally different world than you. Now, do you think that if you lived in that world—where you were alone most of the time and basically begging for food—do you think you might have a hard time relating to kids that have everything given to them? Do you think you might even be mean to them?”
I thought about that for a second. “Just because he doesn’t have nice food doesn’t give him the right to be mean to people,” I told Uncle Jake.
“I didn’t say that it gave him the right,” replied Uncle Jake, “but do you see how it could happen? Do you understand maybe why Nathan might act the way he does?”
Uncle Jake was right. Nathan’s life seemed A LOT tougher than mine. And while I didn’t think that gave him the right to be mean, I could see how it might make him mean—especially to kids who seemed so spoiled in comparison to him … LIKE ME!
“I do understand it, Uncle Jake,” I said.
“Okay. So. Now, instead of wanting to fight Nathan, maybe you should think about how you can help him. How you can change him for the better. How you can lead him. Fighting him would be the simple thing to do. It would be the easy path. Actually helping him would be tougher. But it would be the right thing to do. That’s what warriors do. We do the right thing, even if it is harder.”
“But how can I help him? I can’t change his life.”
“You don’t have to change his life, but maybe you can point him in the right direction.”
Uncle Jake got quiet for a minute as we finally turned down the street to our house. “Remember what you were like before you got on the warrior path? Before you became a Warrior Kid?”
“Yes! I was a wimp!”
“Okay. Well, guess what? The warrior path doesn’t only help wimpy kids. It can help any kid. Even kids like Nathan. He could use discipline and focus in his life. It would only make his life—and him�
��better, which would also make him nicer.”
Uncle Jake was right again, but there was one big problem. “That all sounds great, Uncle Jake, but here is the big question: How? How am I supposed to do this? I can’t make him change. I can’t force him to be a different person.”
“You’re right, Marc. You can’t. You can’t force people to change. You can’t force people to be different. That doesn’t work.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” I asked Uncle Jake.
“There is only one way: You have to lead.”
With that, we quietly went into the house without saying a word so we wouldn’t wake my mom up.
So that’s it, I thought as I lay in bed. I have to lead.
CHAPTER 16: THE REAL PLATE FACE
Today was different.
During my workout this morning with Uncle Jake, I asked him how I was supposed to lead Nathan. I couldn’t just walk up to him and say, “Do what I tell you!” That wouldn’t work. Uncle Jake agreed.
“That definitely won’t work,” Uncle Jake said. “That kind of leadership isn’t real leadership. Sure, if you were in charge of someone and you ordered them to do something, that might work at first. But it won’t last. Real leadership comes by forming relationships with people—by becoming friends with people. Then they will listen to you because they want to—not because they have to.”
“So I have to become friends with Nathan?”
“Well, you are at least going to have to try.”
“How am I going to be friends with someone who makes fun of me every chance he gets?” I asked Uncle Jake. I was starting to suspect that maybe he hadn’t thought his idea all the way through!
Uncle Jake then asked me, “Has he ever punched you?”
This was a strange question. “No,” I told Uncle Jake.
“What about kicked? Has he ever kicked you?”
“No, Uncle Jake. He has never kicked me.”
“What about slapped or scratched or bit you?”
“No. He hasn’t.”
“Okay, then, Marc. What has he done to you?”
This question had me quiet for a minute. What had Nathan done to me? I could barely remember when it all started. “Well, he makes fun of me. He calls me names.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Uncle Jake said, smiling. “Plate Face.”
“That’s not funny, Uncle Jake,” I told him.
“Well. Maybe you don’t think so. But it is kind of funny.”
“Not really,” I told him again.
“You might think it was funny if you didn’t take it so seriously. Think about it. Your face is a little roundish. And a little flat. Like a plate. So ‘Plate Face.’ If you just let it be funny, you would see that it is funny. But you are being too sensitive about it. A warrior can’t let a little name-calling upset them. Warriors have more important things to be concerned about—things that matter. Someone making fun of you or calling you a name isn’t important enough. Just deal with it and move on.”
“Okay, but it annoys me. How do I ‘just deal with it’?”
“That’s the easy part. You just laugh. Laugh! Laugh along with the joke. Instead of getting mad, just think of it from a different perspective and LAUGH. And here is another secret: Not only will laughing make you feel better, it will also take away the power of the insult. People make fun of other people to feel powerful. As soon as you laugh at yourself, you take that power away from them. Try it. You will see.”
“Okay, Uncle Jake, I’ll try it.”
* * *
The next day at camp, after kickball in the morning, we had an art project to do. I figured that this was as good a time as any to try and make friends with Nathan, so I sat at the same table as him. I think this kind of surprised him, because he looked at me in a strange way for a minute. There wasn’t much time to talk, because we were doing individual projects. As soon as we sat down, the counselor told us to be quiet and start listening. The counselor said we were going to draw a self-portrait, which is a picture of yourself.
As soon as I heard this, I had an idea—an idea that would help me become friends with Nathan and help me laugh at myself.
So I drew a picture of myself. But instead of drawing myself the way I actually look, I drew myself as “Plate Face!” I made my face a giant plate, with my hair and eyes but in the shape of a PLATE! Then I added a little body, which made it look even funnier.
When I finished it, I whispered to Nathan, “Hey, Nathan, check this out.…” I held up the picture.
Nathan burst out laughing! When he started laughing so hard, I started laughing, too. It was hilarious!!!
“The real Plate Face!” I told him.
“That’s awesome!” he said back. “You’re a great artist … because that looks just like you!!” We started laughing even harder.
And that was it. I no longer felt bad about being called Plate Face, and Nathan could tell that it didn’t bother me anymore.
“I didn’t know you were so funny, Marc!” he said. That was it. He called me Marc. That must have been the first time he called me by my real name in a year.
But more important, it now seemed like I had a new friend.
CHAPTER 17: THE BRUISER
Today was AWESOME. After all the taking apart and cleaning and removing rust and sanding and preparing for paint and painting each individual part with two or three coats of paint, it was FINALLY time to put my rust-bucket bike back together again. Only now it didn’t look like a rust bucket. In fact, there was no rust on it at all! Every part looked almost brand-new. I say almost, because instead of being all new and shiny, this bike was almost completely black!
I actually wasn’t feeling very comfortable about putting the bike together by myself, and I think Uncle Jake knew that, so he came to the garage to help me out. Well, at least I thought he was there to help me.
“Thanks for coming to help me,” I told him.
“‘Help’ you?”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I thought you were here to help me out?”
“I’m here to answer any questions you might have. I’m here to make sure you aren’t making any mistakes. But you are the one who has to do the work,” Uncle Jake said.
“Okay. Well. Thanks, I guess.”
“You ‘guess’?” Uncle Jake laughed. “Why do you only ‘guess’?”
“Well,” I told him, “why should I thank you if you aren’t even going to help me?” I asked Uncle Jake this with a smile on my face. He knew I was teasing him, and he could tell that I thought it was pretty funny. I thought he did, too, until his face got serious.
“If I help you, I’m hurting you,” he said, staring right at me.
“What?”
“I said, ‘If I help you, I’m hurting you.’”
“I heard what you said, Uncle Jake. But what does that even mean? How can you be hurting me if you help me?” This idea seemed kind of crazy to me!
But it wasn’t crazy to Uncle Jake, and I could see it in his eyes. “Here’s the thing, Marc. One of the best ways for people to learn is by doing. If I were to jump in and put the bike back together myself, you wouldn’t learn anything. If you don’t learn, what is the point? That’s why I always want you to do things yourself—so you can learn to be self-sufficient. So you don’t need help. Of course, there are some things that you will need help with in life, and putting this bike together right now is one of them. Sometimes someone needs to show you how to do things and guide you through them. But whenever you can, try to do them yourself so you learn. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, Uncle Jake. It does. If I can put this bike together with very little help from you, then in the future maybe I won’t need any help at all.”
“That’s right,” Uncle Jake said. “You will be able to take care of yourself. You will be self-sufficient. It will be awesome. Now what you need to do is stop talking and get to work! Start with putting the seat in and then put the stem back in the frame so you can put the handlebars o
n. Then you can flip it over and it will be stable so you can start putting the back cranks on.”
“Got it, Uncle Jake.”
With that, I picked up the frame, fed the stem through the neck, and started tightening it down. Uncle Jake helped a little by holding the frame steady. After that I put the seat on, then the cranks, which were a little bit tricky. I almost needed Uncle Jake’s help again but managed to get it done. Then I had to put the tubes and tires on the rims so they would be ready to go on the bike.
As I put each piece back on the bike, it started looking even better and better than when I began working on it. Each piece fit into place nicely.
Finally, it was time to put the tires on the bike, get the chain in place, attach the brakes, and, last step, pump up the tires with air. Once I finished, that was it. It looked AMAZING. Almost the whole bike was black, and it looked like a bike that could be used for Warrior Kid missions!
“Looks pretty good,” Uncle Jake said.
“‘Pretty good’?” I said. “It looks AWESOME!”
Uncle Jake looked at the bike for a few seconds, then said, “Hold on. It is missing something.”
With that, he walked out of the garage. A minute later, he came back in. He had a small bag in his hand. He reached inside, pulled out a little packet, and handed it to me. I looked at the little packet. It was a bunch of little sticker letters.
“You need to name it,” Uncle Jake said.
“‘Name it’?”
“Yeah. Give it a name. That bike you used to want was named The Bentlee. You need to name this bike something.”
“What should I name it?”
“I don’t know. What does it remind you of? What did The Bentlee remind you of?”
“Well, The Bentlee is all shiny and nice. It doesn’t look as tough as this bike.”
The New Recruit Page 7
