Fight for Justice

by Lori Saigeon

  Justice felt guilt clutch at his stomach – he shouldn’t have let her go – but he was also angry at Charity. Why did she have to go to Open Kitchen in the first place?

  “No, I wasn’t there,” he said.

  Ms. Fayant, a teachers’ assistant, opened the door. “Here, Charity, put this ice pack on your face. It’ll feel better if you numb it a bit.”

  “Thanks,” Charity mumbled.

  “So, Charity,” Mr. Baker began, “tell me again what happened.”

  “We were leaving O.K. and these kids started bugging us.” Charity’s words were quiet, the ice pack pressed against her cheek.

  “We weren’t even doing anything!” interrupted Dani. She sat up in her chair and her face flushed. “They just started calling Charity names for no reason!” her voice grew louder as she talked.

  Mr. Baker held up his hand. “I want to hear from Charity now, please,” he said. “You’ve had your turn, Dani.”

  He turned back to Charity. “Go on.”

  Charity took a deep breath and it whooshed out with a sudden drop of her shoulders. She swallowed hard. “So we were starting back towards the school and these kids started calling me names and pushing us around.” Her lower lip trembled. “Then when Dani tried to tell them to leave me alone, one of them pushed me down. That’s how...how...” she faltered, then drew in a ragged breath. “That’s how I scraped my face,” she finished in a rush.

  “Do you know who any of those kids were?” asked their principal.

  “No,” Charity answered without looking up.

  Justice knew instantly that she was lying. Why would she lie to the principal, at school? he wondered, shocked. Charity isn’t usually like that.

  Mr. Baker must have sensed that something didn’t add up as well. “Didn’t you recognize even one of the kids?” he persisted. “Maybe you’ve seen them around, even if they don’t go to our school.”

  “No, I don’t know them,” Charity repeated.

  Justice’s mind raced. She must have some good reason for not telling the truth, but he couldn’t think of anything except that she must be afraid to tell Mr. Baker who the kids were. “Maybe they’re from Garnet School,” he suggested, trying to sound helpful.

  Mr. Baker was not so easily diverted. “Seems odd that they would be walking towards McTavish School, though, doesn’t it?” he asked.

  An awkward silence followed. Justice couldn’t stand the uncomfortable pause. “Chare, are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she answered, her voice still shaky. Justice knew she wasn’t okay, but she didn’t want to say any more in front of their principal.

  Mr. Baker seemed to decide that the conversation was over. “Dani, you can head up to class now,” he said. “Justice, you and Charity take another few minutes and when she feels better you can go back to class, too.”

  “Okay, thanks, Mr. Baker,” Justice replied.

  The principal went out, leaving the door open. “I’m going up to Mrs. Wernichuk’s room,” he informed the secretary. “There seems to be some kids missing from there, too.”

  Justice sank into a chair near Charity. “Are you really okay, Chare?” he asked, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “No,” her muffled voice came from where she had her head down on her arms. Justice waited for a few minutes while she cried quietly. As her breathing slowed, she lifted her head and placed the ice pack against her cheek again.

  “What happened, really?” Justice asked.

  “Tell you later,” was all Charity would say, glancing out the open door toward where Mrs. Lipswitch was now on the phone.

  They sat for a few moments in silence, until Charity stood up. “Let’s go to class,” she said, her voice controlled and dull.

  Justice followed her in silence, a million questions burning his mind. As they passed through the office door and headed for the stairs, he tried again. “What really happened?”

  “Oh, Jus, it was Trey and those kids from the street on Saturday!” Charity whispered fiercely. “They all circled around us and started calling me bad names and they said Pretty Boy couldn’t help me, and...and...” Charity faltered. “What have they got against you?”

  “I don’t know,” Justice muttered through gritted teeth, “but they can’t get away with this!” He shoved the classroom door open.

  The rest of the afternoon dragged by. Justice couldn’t keep his mind on school work. It seemed so pointless to worry about multiplication and the capitals of the provinces when his sister had been threatened and hurt. Every time he thought about the incident, his blood boiled.

  Chapter 7

  By the time Justice and Charity walked in the door after school, they were both tired from the long afternoon. Charity had spent recess trying to explain to her friends what had happened without really telling them anything, and Justice had spent it trying to avoid hearing the story over and over.

  “What are you going to tell Mom?” Justice asked her as he got a box of cookies down from the cupboard.

  “I dunno. She’ll be mad if she finds out I went to O.K.”

  “You better tell her something. She’s gonna see the scrapes on your face,” he pointed out.

  “Maybe I should tell her what really happened,” Charity said.

  “Maybe you better tell her you fell,” Justice suggested. “She might decide to call Trey’s mom or Billie’s mom. You don’t want her getting them in trouble and making it worse for you.”

  “I could tell her I got pushed down playing soccer. That’s partly true,” Charity mused.

  “Good idea.”

  The instant Mom walked in the door after work the look on her face told them they wouldn’t need to explain. She strode over to where Charity was flaked out on the couch watching tv. Mom sat down next to Charity without even taking off her coat.

  “Chare, what happened today?” she asked, her voice tight. “Let me see your face.”

  “It was nothing, Mom, I just fell down.” Charity avoided Mom’s intense eyes. “It’s okay now.”

  “I’ve been worried sick since Mr. Baker called me after lunch. He said you had trouble with some kids coming back from Open Kitchen –” She broke off, waiting for an answer.

  “Mom, I just wanted to go for once,” Charity began. “Dani always goes to O.K. and she said it was lots of fun.” Charity’s eyes pleaded for their mom to understand.

  “Honey, I know you’d like to go to Open Kitchen with your friends sometimes, but I just feel it’s safer for you to eat at school. We’ve been through this before, and now I guess you know why I feel this way.” Mom stopped her explanation.

  “So now I’ll never get to go again,” Charity said. Justice didn’t think Charity would want to go again after today anyway.

  Mom sighed. “You don’t need to go, my girl. We can afford lunch every day, and I like to know you have an adult supervising you. Remember, you’re still only ten.”

  Only ten. Justice turned back to the tv, his mind racing. I may be “only ten,” but I can look after myself. And my sister, he added to himself. His breath quickened and his heart raced again as the cartoon pictures on the screen were replaced in his mind by the images he had of that group of kids swarming his sister.

  Next time, I’ll be there, he vowed.

  Later that evening, the family’s phone rang. Charity ran to pick it up, as usual. “Hi, Kokum!” she said brightly. Justice perked up as he tried to figure out the conversation from just one side.

  “Yeah, school’s fine,” she said. “We’re doing a really cool project,” she continued. “I’m writing about Toronto!”

  There was a pause as their grandma responded.

  “Yup, I always do my best,” Charity stated proudly. She listened again. “Yeah, Jus is right here.” She handed the phone to Justice. “Kokum wants to say hi,” she told him.

  “Hi, Kokum,” Justice said into the phone.

  “Justice! How’s my boy?” Kokum asked. Justice could hear the smile in her voice.
He pictured Kokum sitting at the table in her small, neat kitchen. He could almost see the view of open space out her window and smell the bannock she might have baked that day.

  “I’m good, Kokum, how about you and Mushum?” Justice replied.

  Kokum chuckled. “Oh, your mushum is out in the shed getting his hands greasy in that nasty snowmobile motor,” she answered. “He is convinced he can make it run all winter this year.”

  Justice laughed. “Well, that would be the first time!” he said.

  “When are you kids coming out to see us?” Kokum asked.

  “I dunno,” replied Justice. “I’ll ask Mom.” He turned to his mom, who was scooping muffin mix into pans. “Mom, Kokum wants to know when we’re coming out.”

  “Let me talk to her, please,” said his mom in reply.

  Justice hung around, also waiting for the answer.

  “Hi, Mom, it’s me,” Justice’s mom said into the phone after she had wiped off her hands. “Well, I was just thinking about coming out pretty soon. I don’t want to wait until there’s a blizzard before we get out there again.” She paused. “She’s back? How is she?” And Mom and Kokum were off and running, talking about people Justice didn’t know from the reserve where his mom grew up.

  Justice knew the two women would be gabbing for a while, so he went back to watching tv, restlessly waiting to find out when his family would be together again.

  Things would be so much easier if I just lived on the reserve with Kokum and Mushum.

  Chapter 8

  At 7:00 the next morning, Justice pulled himself out of a deep sleep as Mom called for the kids to get up. The memory of what happened to Charity at O.K. yesterday rushed back to him like a river, with him caught in the currents. He lay in bed for a few minutes before he felt he could face the day. He didn’t know what he was going to do to help Charity, but he knew he was going to defend her in some way.

  Their mom’s usual cheerfulness seemed dampened this morning. Despite Justice’s bleary morning eyes, he noticed that lines of worry crossed his mom’s face and her mouth looked drawn where a smile usually played on her lips.

  Charity came into the kitchen quietly. She looked ready for school except for her bouncy step. Justice felt angry all over again. No way can those kids do this to us! he thought. I’m gonna do something about it!

  “Charity, I don’t know who those kids are,” Mom said, “but I want you to stay away from them. Whatever is bugging them is their problem, not yours.”

  That was Mom’s philosophy – don’t make somebody else’s problems your problems – not if you can help it. Mom was a peacemaker. He just didn’t know if that was the answer all the time. She didn’t have to live at school with these kids. Of course, she didn’t know that some of these kids were at the same school as Charity and Justice. She really didn’t know much about the whole thing; Charity had decided to keep quiet about most of it.

  “I know, Mom.” Charity was also a peacemaker. She didn’t want to upset Mom, and Justice knew she would stay as far from those kids as possible.

  I, on the other hand, he told himself, I am the man of the house, and I have to look after the others in my own way.

  •••

  “My face looks terrible!” Charity groaned later as she peered into the bathroom mirror. “I’m gonna use some of Mom’s make-up to cover up the scrapes.”

  “Come on, Chare,” Justice said after a few minutes. He was glad he wasn’t a girl, worried about how he looked all the time. It was odd for him to be urging her to get to school on time – it was usually the other way around. “We better get going,” he said again, glancing at the clock.

  As the siblings hit the sidewalk, a blast of cold air grabbed their jackets. Justice wished he’d worn gloves.

  “I wonder if it’s going to snow,” he said. “It sure feels cold out.”

  Charity looked around. “Maybe.” She shrugged her shoulders carelessly.

  Nearing the school, Justice was glad it was almost time to go into class. Even his feet felt the cold through his runners. He was sure snow was coming. He hoped there would be lots. That would mean snowmobiling out at the reserve, whenever they could get out there. He longed to leave behind the grimy city and the bullying kids, and feel the freedom of the wide-open space at Mushum and Kokum’s house.

  Children jostled for a spot in the lineup until Ms. Fayant, the supervisor, blew her whistle at them. “Okay, stop pushing,” she called. “Line up before someone gets hurt.” The kids mostly obeyed her. As Justice and Vance joked around and elbowed each other, Justice noticed Trey and his buddies approaching the line. Trey had on that smug grin he seemed to wear a lot and Justice felt his own temperature rising again. Fortunately the bell rang and the line began to move ahead.

  As the kids settled into class, Justice relaxed a little. He really liked Mr. Wilson. They did some cool things in Language Arts, which was first in the day. Right now they were reading an adventure novel, and the kids took parts they liked and acted them out. Justice didn’t like the acting much, but Vance made a good shipwrecked kid. What an actor he was, and it was a great story. Justice lost himself in wondering how the boy in the story would get out of his latest encounter, this time with a wild animal on the island.

  •••

  Justice was amazed when it was nearly recess time and Mr. Wilson was calling for books and other materials to be put away. That was one power Justice caved in to – the power of a good story to take you away.

  As the kids burst out of the doors onto the playground, Justice grinned to himself. He had been right about the weather. The ground was covered with a thin layer of white. I’m getting like an old mushum, he thought proudly. Pretty soon I’ll be tracking rabbits, too.

  Justice’s thoughts about the ways he was like Mushum were interrupted by someone bumping hard into his shoulder and he almost fell into Vance. He turned to say, “Watch it,” but realized that the person who had smashed into him was Chelsie, a new girl from another class. She was looking back over her other shoulder, not at him. As he followed her gaze, he spied Trey. Who else?

  “Don’t hurt Pretty Boy,” Trey was laughing without humour. “He gets upset when girls try to beat him up.” His voice was edged with scorn. As Justice glared at him, Trey made a rude gesture, turned and walked away. At that moment, Justice felt as though he had been walking on twigs and the last one had just broken. His heart suddenly raced and his face flushed with heat. Everything else dropped away and he could only see Trey’s retreating back.

  Justice heard nothing but a roaring in his ears as he rushed at Trey and shoved him, hard. Trey was knocked off balance and stumbled for a few steps. He managed to stay on his feet and turned at the same time. Trey cursed.

  “What’s the matter with you?” he growled, his voice tight and his teeth clenched.

  “Leave me and my sister alone,” Justice warned, his voice barely in control.

  Trey sneered. “I do what I want.”

  “No, you don’t,” Justice persisted, his hands balling up into fists. A crowd of kids was beginning to gather, but Justice didn’t notice.

  “Listen, Pretty Boy,” Trey spat at Justice, “a little wuss like you doesn’t tell me what to do.” He had moved closer to Justice as he spoke and was now only an arm’s length in front of him. “So shut up.” Trey punctuated this last statement with a shove on Justice’s shoulders.

  This time Justice was ready for him and met his shove with another of his own. Trey’s eyebrows registered surprise for a second and then drew together in anger. Before Justice even realized what was happening, Trey was rushing at him and had hold of his jacket.

  Around them, kids were yelling. “Get him!” some were shouting.

  “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

  Trey’s buddies were urging him on, “You get him, Trey!”

  “Punch him out!”

  Justice didn’t hear any of them over the roar in his ears. He began swinging wildly in Trey’s direction and before he
knew it they both went down, Trey on top.

  Suddenly Trey flew off Justice before either of them could get in a decent hit. Ms. Fayant was there, holding Trey and shouting for Justice to get up. “Get to the office, both of you,” she was saying loudly and firmly. There was no arguing with Ms. Fayant. She could be as tough as she was funny. Her usually smiling face was not smiling right now and Justice obeyed her immediately. Trey shook her hands off his jacket.

  “Trey, get to the office,” she repeated.

  Justice could hardly think as he headed in the direction of the door. He wiped snot from under his nose and tried to catch his breath. His heart was still racing but the jet engine sound in his ears was beginning to fade. Trey came up beside him, Ms. Fayant right behind.

  “You’re dead, Pretty Boy,” Trey hissed.

  “Never mind that, Trey,” broke in Ms. Fayant. “Just keep walking.”

  Chapter 9

  Justice’s mind was spinning with thoughts, none of them clear. Trey better not hurt my sister...Trey could hurt me if he wanted to...I’m in trouble because of Trey. I am the man of the house....

  Both boys threw themselves into chairs by the office while Ms. Fayant went in. Trey’s icy looks upset Justice, but he tried hard not to show it.

  Soon Mr. Baker emerged from his office. His normally friendly, caring face looked tight and upset. “Trey, Justice, come in here,” he commanded quietly.