by Lori Saigeon
He led them in, indicating the same table where Justice had sat when Charity was hurt. “Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested but he was really leaving the boys no choice.
Surprisingly, Mr. Baker sat down at his own desk. “You boys cool off for a few minutes while I finish this report,” he said calmly, turning to his computer. “Get your thoughts together.”
Justice wasn’t quite sure what Mr. Baker meant but he tried to sort out his feelings. As his anger subsided, he began to think about what had happened outside. He realized that Trey had been trying to start a fight and that he, Justice, had jumped right in. Justice admitted it to himself; he had been waiting to even the score with Trey. This had been a great opportunity. Justice knew that the fight looked like Trey’s fault, though. He considered what that might mean for him.
Before he had everything figured out, Mr. Baker had risen and was joining the boys at the table. He had a notebook and pen in his hands. “So let’s find out what went wrong out there, okay?” Mr. Baker turned to Justice. “Justice, tell me your side of the story.”
My side of the story? thought Justice. I’d like to tell you what Trey is really like. “I was coming out the door for recess and Trey just shoved Chelsie into me,” he began.
“I did not!” interrupted Trey. “I wasn’t even near them!”
“Trey, hold on, please,” Mr. Baker held out a hand in a gesture that reminded Justice of a police officer stopping traffic. “You’ll have your say next.” He turned back to Justice. “Go on,” he urged.
“Well, Trey pushed Chelsie, and she bumped into me.” Justice tried to ignore the glares Trey was shooting across the table. For a moment, he faltered. “At least, I think that’s what happened,” Justice hesitated again. He was losing his nerve. “Then we started fighting.” Justice felt caged, like a tiger that couldn’t get out. It wasn’t really what he wanted to say, but it was so hard when Trey was staring at him.
“Okay,” Mr. Baker paused for a moment, looking hard at Justice, then made some notes. Justice wondered what he was writing. “Trey, how about you?”
Trey leaned forward in his chair. He didn’t look worried, he actually looked – what was the word – honest? “I was just coming out for recess, Mr. Baker,” Trey began, turning wide eyes toward the principal, “and Justice started yelling at me.” Trey’s voice held surprise and indignation. “I don’t know what’s got into him.” He turned to Justice. “Why are you such a jerk, anyway?”
“Trey,” Mr. Baker warned, “watch it.”
“Oh, sorry, Mr. Baker,” Trey replied.
“So, Trey, you don’t know how this fight started?” Mr. Baker asked.
“Well, Justice is really mad and I don’t know why,” Trey replied. Justice couldn’t believe his ears. How could Trey put such a spin on things? And where did he learn to do that? His big brother?
“Justice?” Mr. Baker turned back to him. “Is this true?”
Was he really mad? Of course he was mad! Trey had been picking on him and Charity for a while now. Yes, he was mad about it! How could Justice explain all these little things to Mr. Baker? If you said them out loud, they wouldn’t sound like anything.
“Well, he shoved Chelsie into me,” Justice repeated as an answer. Suddenly this didn’t look so much like Trey’s fault. “He started it.” Justice finished lamely.
Mr. Baker looked silently from one boy to the other. “It sounds to me like you two were just waiting to fight each other,” he concluded. “I wonder why.”
Should he tell Mr. Baker that Trey was one of the kids who bullied Charity at O.K.? That might make things worse with Trey, he told himself.
“You boys are going to have to do some work for the caretaker at afternoon recess today. That should keep you too busy to fight.” Mr. Baker said. “Trey, since this is your second fight in the last while, I’m going to have to phone your parents. Both of you – report to Mrs. McDonald at recess. She’ll have a job for you. Get along. Do your best.”
Great, thought Justice, now I’m in trouble and have to work, all because of Trey. I’ll get you back, he thought. He felt ugly inside and oddly comforted at the same time.
•••
Moving chairs at recess time should have worked off some of Justice’s anger, but his blood still boiled every time he looked at Trey and thought about their fight.
It wasn’t fair! Trey started it, and yet he, Justice, got just as much blame. What was worse, Trey acted helpful to Mrs. McDonald, the caretaker, earning himself praise. Of course Trey grinned smugly at Justice over that, too.
You’ll get yours, Justice thought, just wait. Justice didn’t know how he would pay Trey back but he knew he would do it somehow.
Chapter 10
The rest of the week went more smoothly for Justice. School continued as usual. Trey missed a couple of days of school and seemed to keep out of Justice’s way when he was there – at least for now. Justice tried to ignore the fact that Trey was even on the playground, although he noticed a few scuffles where Trey seemed to be involved just until an adult became aware. That’s when he suddenly vanished and the supervisors spoke to the other kids.
By Saturday morning, Justice was hurrying through his chores again and allowing his mouth to water over the thought of chips and candy bars. His daydreams were interrupted by Charity’s quiet voice. He listened immediately, since it was so rare for her not to be chattering at him.
“Jus, are you going to the Shop ’n’ Go pretty soon?” she murmured.
“Yeah, why?” he replied.
She glanced around as she spoke, “’Cause, can you get me something?”
Right, she’s grounded because of going to Open Kitchen without permission, he remembered.
“Chare, I’m gonna get in trouble,” he complained.
“Oh, come on, I won’t have any candy all week if you don’t,” she begged.
Justice imagined all week without a treat. “All right,” he relented, “what do you want? And you better have the money for it.”
“I do, I do,” Charity promised, her face beaming. She ran to get her money as Justice wondered what had happened to the girl who would never disobey their mom.
•••
The wind whistled in Justice’s ears and cut through his jacket as he headed down the street to the Shop ’n’ Go. It really was turning colder now; blizzards with lots of snow couldn’t be far away. Justice shoved his hands in his pockets. Winter meant no more bike riding, but Justice didn’t care. His bike frame was bent and Mom said she wouldn’t take it to be fixed until spring. Besides, winter also meant snowmobiling on the reserve and Justice could hardly wait. He loved the feeling of power that revving the motor gave him. His mushum had taught him to drive on his own last winter and he could hardly wait for that freedom again.
Before he knew it, the Shop ’n’ Go appeared ahead. Justice had been so busy thinking that the city blocks had slipped by him unnoticed.
•••
As Justice pushed open the door, he was surprised to see a stranger at the till. Where’s Charlie, the regular weekend guy? he wondered. The new clerk glanced up from a magazine as Justice entered the store and then went back to reading.
Justice headed for the chips first. He knew he would be buying Crispy Nacho Chipos and he prepared to enjoy choosing which flavour. While he decided between “extra spicy” and “extra cheesy,” the bell at the door announced another customer. Justice and the clerk looked up at the same time.
Justice felt his heart start to pound. It was one of the boys he’d seen with Trey on the street last Saturday! He definitely did not go to Justice’s school, but Justice had seen him around before. Justice didn’t think the boy had seen him and he wondered if he should make his way out the door.
Too late! The boy was headed toward him. As the boy rounded the shelf where the chips were, he caught sight of Justice and sneered.
“Pretty Boy,” he hissed. “Stay outta my way.”
So now he’s using
my “nickname” – great. Justice steamed at Trey all over again. Justice decided to stay where he was and tried to keep looking for his chips. He couldn’t help but notice the boy’s runners. They were covered with strange symbols someone had written on with pen. Justice wondered what they were for. They looked oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place them. Then with a shock he remembered seeing the same signs spray-painted on garbage cans and garage doors. Gang symbols?
“I said get lost,” the boy snapped at Justice.
Justice chose his chips and moved away to look at chocolate bars. The boy trailed after him a minute later. He glared at Justice again but said nothing more.
Both boys glanced up as another customer entered the store. It was a man Justice didn’t know. He began asking directions, complaining about the “ridiculous number of one-way streets” in the city. The clerk slid his magazine aside with a sigh and began indicating things on the man’s map.
As Justice turned back to the racks of candy, he noticed the other boy’s jacket pocket gaping open. He could just imagine sliding a chocolate bar into it, making it look as though the boy was trying to steal it. He knew the boy would be in trouble if he were caught, maybe even with the police. What a great payback that would be for last weekend, he thought.
Justice glanced back at the till. The two men were still gesturing and naming streets. Justice grabbed a chocolate bar, fingering it. Suddenly, the other boy reached up for a small bag for loose candy. Without thinking about it again, Justice popped the bar into the boy’s open pocket.
In a split second, Justice had turned back to the racks of candy, his heart pounding. The other boy was busy crinkling open his bag in preparation to filling it. Justice’s face was hot and he was so dizzy he could hardly concentrate on the bars in front of him. He grabbed the first one he could and turned to head for the till.
“What’s going on there?” called the clerk, his attention suddenly on the boys. Justice’s head whipped in the direction of his voice. The stranger was gone. Justice hadn’t even noticed the bell on the door ring when he’d left. What had the clerk seen?
“Nothing,” Justice replied, his voice trembling slightly. The other boy just stood in silence, his mouth slightly open, his hand halfway in the bag of candy.
“I saw you put something in his pocket,” the clerk said, indicating the other boy. Instantly the boy searched his pockets, coming out with the chocolate bar.
The other boy’s eyes widened. “This isn’t mine!” he declared, holding it out in one hand as though it were on fire. Justice could hardly breathe.
“You two stay right there,” the clerk commanded, pointing at the boys, coming out from behind the counter and approaching them. The other boy’s eyes slid toward the door. Justice wondered if he might try to run. “Now what’s going on here?” the clerk demanded, “I saw you two talking to each other.”
“I don’t even know this stupid kid,” the boy growled. “Why’d you put this in my pocket?” he spat at Justice.
“I saw you talking to him,” the clerk repeated. He hesitated. “I’m calling your parents.”
“We don’t have a phone,” the other boy sneered.
That seemed to take the clerk aback. “What about you?” he said, turning to Justice.
Justice was too shocked to lie, even if he wanted to. “We do,” he answered, looking down.
“All right, then,” the clerk huffed. He seemed satisfied with that. “You,” he turned to the other boy, “I don’t want to see you in here for at least a week. And you,” he pointed at Justice, “come with me to the phone at the till. We’re calling your home.”
Justice slouched up to the front of the store while the other kid dumped his candy at the till and headed out the door. He looked back as he pushed the door open and mouthed to Justice, “You’re dead.”
How could you be so stupid? Justice berated himself. Now you’re in trouble and he’s not! He wished he could relive the last ten minutes and change the way things had turned out.
The clerk was looking at him expectantly, his hand on the phone. “Well, what is it?” he asked.
“What?” Justice asked, not following.
“I said, what’s your phone number?” the clerk repeated, raising his voice.
“Oh,” Justice replied and recited the digits, his heart sinking with each push of a button. He couldn’t imagine what his mom would say.
“Hello, I’m calling from the Shop ’n’ Go,” the clerk said into the phone. “Is your mom home?” Charity must have answered. “Yes, hello, I’m calling from the Shop ’n’ Go,” he repeated. “I think I have your son here.” He covered the receiver and turned to Justice. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Justice,” he mumbled, wishing he were somewhere else.
“I have Justice here,” he continued. “Could you please come and get him?” He paused. “No, he’s fine, but you better come and get him anyway.” Justice could hear his mom’s voice, but couldn’t make out her words. “Okay, we’ll wait here.”
Chapter 11
The minutes dragged by as Justice stood there uncomfortably, waiting for his mom. A few people entered the store, glancing curiously at him, then made their purchases and left. He could hardly think about what Mom might say. Never before had he tried something so stupid. And the other kid got away! Justice felt sick as he imagined what would happen to him.
His mom soon arrived, breathless and dishevelled. Charity was right behind her.
“Justice, what’s going on here?” she asked the moment she came through the Shop ’n’ Go door.
“Are you this boy’s mom?” the clerk asked curtly.
“Yes, did you call me?” Mom turned to the clerk, her face flushed and her eyebrows drawn together.
“Yeah, I did,” the clerk replied, glancing from one to the other. “Your son put a chocolate bar into his buddy’s pocket. I don’t know what he’s trying to pull over on me but I think they were trying to steal it.”
Charity’s mouth dropped open.
“What?” Mom’s eyes widened. “Justice, is this true?”
Justice looked from one to the other, his throat so tight he could barely swallow. “Yeah.”
Mom’s face flushed a little deeper and her mouth tightened into a line. After a moment she turned to the clerk. “I’m really sorry about this. I’m not sure what Justice was doing, but he doesn’t usually do this. Can I pay for the chocolate bar?” she asked.
“No, it’s all right,” the clerk nodded, his face relaxing slightly. “The other kid left it here. Just make sure your son doesn’t come back in here without you for a while.”
“Of course.” Mom turned to Justice. “Come home with us now,” she stated flatly. Charity fell in beside Justice, her eyes searching his face. The three left the store.
Justice was amazed to notice the wind still whistling outside, the sun still in its regular place in the sky. Nothing out here had changed, yet he felt completely different. He could hardly stand to know what his mom thought about him.
The family trudged half a block in silence. Mom’s back looked stiff and she stared in the direction of home as she led the way.
Finally, after what seemed forever, she turned to Justice. “What do you think you were doing in that store?” she asked, her voice unusually loud and harsh.
“Mom, I don’t really know that guy. He’s not my friend,” Justice began to explain.
“What do you mean, you don’t know him? The clerk said you were talking to each other and you gave him a chocolate bar,” Mom repeated what she had been told.
“No, he was talking to me,” Justice said and told her the story of what had happened at the Shop ’n’ Go.
Mom stared at Justice for the length of a few houses. “But why? Why would you do something like that?”
Justice looked at the ground, then back at his mom, who waited expectantly.
“I – I don’t know,” he finally said, wondering if that was enough of an answer.
“Justice, how could you DO that?” Charity finally found her voice. “You were stealing!”
“Look, it just happened, I don’t know why, okay?” Justice could feel his face getting hot. He wanted to say more, to explain, but his eyes were suddenly stinging and he didn’t trust his voice.
“Justice, this just isn’t like you,” Mom said, looking down and shaking her head. “I can’t understand what you were trying to do. You have embarrassed our family. Now Charity can’t go to the Shop ’n’ Go, I can’t go to the Shop ’n’ Go, without the clerk knowing we are all part of your family. We don’t behave this way. What we need, we buy. It’s always been this way. You understand that, don’t you?”
Mom rarely gave such long speeches. Justice knew she was serious.
“Yeah, I know.” There was little else he could say. How could he describe the nasty feeling of revenge he’d had when he saw the other boy? He felt sick all over again, just reliving the events in the store.
“You are grounded from the Shop ’n’ Go for a month. I don’t know what else to do with you,” Mom said, her voice stern and sad.
The rest of the walk seemed longer than usual as the three carried on in silence. Even Charity seemed at a loss for words. Finally they reached home. Justice went straight to his room without a word to the others. His mind was in turmoil as he sat at his table and fiddled uselessly with his school project.
•••
Eventually there was a tap at his door and Mom came in. “Justice, I want to talk to you.” Her usually pleasant voice held no life. “Come here,” she indicated Justice’s bed as she sat down.
