Souls in Peril

by Sherry Gammon

  “No. No police. They’ll send me to a foster home. Please,” Max pleaded, surprised at Jeff’s reaction.

  “JD, do you want to end up like Nate?”

  “Please, as my friend, I’m begging you. Don’t call the police,” Max pleaded. Is this ever going to end?

  Coach stuck his head out the office door and said, “Jeff, I need to see you, please,” and went back inside.

  Max grabbed his arm. “Promise you won’t say anything.” Jeff glared at him for a moment, and then nodded a short curt nod before walking to the office. Max slipped off his shoes and jeans, putting them in his locker, now shaking so badly he had to sit down to put on his gym shorts.

  Trusting Jeff is good. Relax. You have an ally now. We’ll get a few more people and nail Tim. He’ll be so scared he’ll never touch you again.

  As Max quickly tied his tennis shoes, Coach came over to him. “Son, I need to talk to you.” Max’s stomach tightened at the grim tone in his voice. He followed him to the office and quietly shut the door. Jeff stood next to the desk, kicking at a nonexistent something on the floor. Coach joined him, sitting on the corner of his desk and folding his arms.

  “Would you mind lifting your shirt, please?” All-out fear choked JD. Of every emotion Max’d experienced helping JD, fear was the only one he hadn’t been able to control yet. Right here, right now was no exception. JD eyed the door, calculating how fast he could get out and away from the locker room.

  “JD, I can help. You don’t have to live like this,” Coach said.

  “I don’t want to end up in foster care. Please. It won’t happen again. I fought back this time. I actually hit him, right in the face,” JD pleaded.

  Coach rubbed his forehead. “This time? How often has this happened?”

  Max said nothing, because he couldn’t. This was all JD’s show now.

  “Son, my wife was raised in foster care. She was adopted at thirteen by a wonderful family. You can’t let what you’ve heard on TV frighten you. They only report the bad homes. It makes for sensational news. There are many more good foster homes, JD.”

  “But I’m not that lucky. I know what kind of home I’ll get. Lumpy Larry doesn’t get a happily ever after.” A single tear ran down his face as he lifted his shirt and turned around.

  “Jeez,” muttered the coach.

  “You’re not Lumpy Larry!” Jeff shouted. “This is ridiculous. Tell me his name. I’ll talk to him. He won’t ever touch you again.”

  “Jeff, thank you for letting me know about JD.” He crossed the room and opened the door. “Head out to class. Coach Mather’s getting things started today. I’ll be right there.”

  Jeff stalked past Max, mouthing, “We’ll talk later,” before heading out the door.

  They want to help, let them. Aren’t you tired of running and hiding all the time? This is no way to live, having to always look over your shoulder. It has to end JD. You can’t live like this anymore.

  “JD, I want you to go to the nurse and have her check your back.” Coach stepped over to his desk, filled out a hall pass for Max and handed it to him. Max didn’t like the feeling rising inside him as he took the pass. “I have to make a few phone calls, and then I’ll meet up with you in about ten minutes.”

  Quietly, Max opened the door. He filed out of the locker room, but instead of turning toward the nurse’s office, he turned for the back of the school, breaking into a run once he reached the street. JD was still in charge.

  Why is he leaving the school? Max wondered. Where is he going? After ten hard minutes of running, he came to Applegate Park. He sprinted up onto the running trail. In JD’s rush, Max tripped several times, only to get up and push himself harder. His now bloodied palms and knees resembled raw hamburger meat. But JD kept pushing. To where, Max still hadn’t a clue.

  JD veered from the path and stumbled over two hundred yards of overgrowth, stopping only when he reached a cement bridge. He ran under the bridge, finally coming to a stop. He slumped against the cement alcove, sucking in air. Before Max caught his breath, he dropped to his knees in front of a pile of abandoned wood, ripping off piece after piece and carelessly tossing it aside as he worked his way into the center of the pile.

  “What is it, JD? Why are we here?” Max kept digging. It wasn’t like he had a choice. JD’s determination trumped anything Max wanted.

  The pile of wood diminished quickly under JD’s frantic efforts. Alongside a few wood chips, Max saw what JD’d been trying to get to. A fairly new looking lock with a key was attached to a dirty, old chain. Max wrapped his bloody hand around the rusted links and pulled. Only it was stuck. He shoved the last large pieces of scrap lumber aside, discovering the other end of the chain. It was attached to a large rock by layers upon layers of duct tape. Max tugged on the chain, but it wouldn’t budge free. He dropped onto his butt, exhausted, hoping now maybe he could rest while trying to figure out why they were under a bridge with a . . .

  The memory hit him like a fist to the gut: the suicide pact. Izzy had told him about JD’s desire to drown himself in the canal with a rusted chain he’d found in a field. That desire had sparked the pact in the first place.

  Max fought rabidly against JD as he started wrapping the chain around his waist. “No. NO. This is not an option. Not happening.” Only JD was in charge. He wrapped another loop around his waist.

  “Listen to me. This is stupid. It doesn’t solve anything. You’re doing so much better now. You have friends, people who care about you, like Em and Jeff. And Coach. JD, Coach blew off an important practice to help you the other day.” He tried backing up, but no good; JD’s determination kept him right there. “Coach is right about foster homes. There are a lot of good ones. You know Dave Thomas, right? He’s the shortstop for the baseball team. He lives in a foster home and he really likes the people he’s with.”

  Big mistake mentioning foster care. JD only ramped up his efforts. As the lock clicked into place, Max almost threw up. The key fell out of the lock and dropped to the ground. “JD! Listen to me. Think about your mother. Who’s going to protect her from these guys who beat her up if you’re not here? Think about . . .”

  A dark, angry consciousness arose inside JD. An emotion he’d kept buried deep within his soul.

  And it centered on Mel.

  Why hadn’t she protected him from those horrible men who took pleasure in beating him all those years? He’d gone to her, complaining time and time again, yet she’d stayed with each and every one, telling him they’d promise not to hurt him again, but they always did. She’d stay with them until they dumped her. She even stayed with the creep who tried to molest him. JD had to fight that one off over and over again. To protect his mother wasn’t the only reason JD stopped complaining about getting beat. He stopped complaining because she wouldn’t do anything about it. She was his mother, and it was her job to protect him. And still she chose those men over him.

  JD, with renewed anger, wanted the large duct taped rock pushed toward the canal. It weighed a ton and took a lot of energy to get it to move a few inches.

  Good, this buys me time, Max thought as he struggled against JD. “The abuse is going to end soon. You’ll be eighteen next May. You can move out, go to college. Come on. You can do this,” he said out loud. But the rock inched closer.

  “I know you’re angry, and hurting, but this isn’t the answer. If you kill yourself, the bullies win. Is that what you want? People like Greg won’t even care that you’re dead. He’ll just find someone else to hurt. Your death will be for nothing.” Unheeded, he pressed the rock a few more inches.

  He glanced around. They were off the beaten path down here under the bridge, so there was no one for him to yell out to. Max thought harder. Em!

  “Think about Em. She needs you. She’s leaning on you, JD. She’s lost Max and now Izzy. What do you think will happen to her if you do this? Remember, she’s had these thoughts too. Your choice could be what pushes her over the edge,” Max said in desperation.
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  “JD, please stop! Be your own hero. Things will get better, I promise. Just hang on. Please don’t give up. Don’t you remember what Izzy said in her letter? She said Live on for the both of us. Keep going forward for her. You can’t quit, JD. Be your own hero. Please. Be your own hero!”

  The pushing finally stopped. He slumped onto his knees as a well of emotions exploded from his chest in a heartrending, guttural cry. Overwhelming sorrow for losing Izzy, anger at his mother for not protecting him, the fear of having to go into foster care, and the years of abuse by his peers all poured out of him. His body was racked with physical pain. He wept hard, not caring if anyone heard him.

  Max took over. Ignoring his exhaustion, he had to get rid of the rock. He may have stopped JD, but the struggled to hold on was still tenuous. Max pushed it back over toward the spot where the key landed, and snagged it, unlocking the chain from his waist. Sitting on his butt and using his legs, he pushed the rock to the canal’s edge, slicing up his already tender palms even more as he braced them against the ground for leverage. Despite the pain, Max eagerly shoved the rock, along with the chain, down into the murky water. He lay on the ground staring blankly at the billowy white clouds, spent; physically, emotionally, and mentally.

  Chapter 29

  The sun burned high in the sky before Max had the strength to get up off the ground. He brushed off his gym clothes. They were covered in dirt. He’d have to wash them tonight. His hands and knees were caked in dirt and dried blood. Max didn’t dare go near the canal to wash them off.

  He climbed back onto the path and out to the road, having no idea where he wanted to go. He couldn’t go back to school to get his street clothes covered in blood and dirt, besides the buildings were probably locked up by now. He didn’t want to head home in case Tim was still there. He ambled around Port Fare aimlessly for about half an hour before a cop car pulled up alongside him. He hoped for once he could catch a break and the cop would just go on by. But no. He picked up the pace as the cop got out of the car.

  “JD.” Emma’s dad. “A lot of people are searching for you. Your mom’s worried sick.”

  “Sorry.” He kept walking. He didn’t want to talk to anyone yet. He needed to figure out the next step in helping JD. He was still too fragile.

  “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

  Max shook his head. “No thanks.”

  “Tim Garen isn’t there if that helps.” Max stopped, but didn’t answer. Marty stepped up to him. “Are you alright?”

  Max dropped his head, shaking it as tears rolled down his cheeks. Marty put his arm around Max’s shoulders. “You will be. I’ll make sure of that.” He gave him a side squeeze and led him to the patrol car.

  Max sank into the backseat of the car and dried his face with the back of his hand. He stared out the window as the world passed by.

  Marty pressed his cell phone to his ear. “Em’s been out of her mind with worry.” Max frowned. He hadn’t thought about how worried she’d be.

  “Em, sweetheart. I found him alive and well, though he could use a shower,” Marty looked in the review mirror, winking at Max. “I need you to spread the word. Make sure everyone knows he’s okay.” He paused. “No, Emma. You can’t go to his house. Things are up in the air right now. I’ll have him call you later.” Max heard Em complain loudly. “No, honey. I’m sorry. He’s okay, promise. I’ll tell him to call you tomorrow after things calm down.” Marty reminded her to call everyone before he hung up.

  “Who’s everyone?” Max asked.

  “At least half the student body, not to mention countless teachers and coaches. A lot of people are concerned about you, JD.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “We’re just glad you’re safe.”

  Max wondered where the foster home would be. He hoped still in Port Fare after all the new friendships he’d made over the past couple months. He didn’t relish the thought of having to start over again. But he’d do it if it kept JD alive. They pulled up in front of his house and Mel came running out to the car, her eyes swollen and red.

  “Oh, sweetie.” She encircled him in her arms, stroking his hair with her hands. “I’m so very sorry. I’m a terrible mother. I know I am.” She pulled back and peered into his eyes. “Tim’s gone. He took off when I confronted him about what happened this morning. He’s not welcome here anymore. I promise.”

  Max nodded. JD’d heard it all a million times before.

  “We’re looking for him,” Marty assured them. “Unfortunately, what he did to you is only considered assault. I wish we could nail the scumbag on something more.”

  “How about leaving the scene of an accident? I remembered what happened the night of the accident that killed the Sánchez’s.” As Max explained everything to them. Mel gasped and buried her face in her hand. When he finished, she was in tears again.

  “I knew your injuries were inconsistent with what supposedly happened. Everything makes sense now. All over a stolen pen,” Marty added incredulously.

  Max agreed. “Yup. The guy’s a Class A jerk.”

  “Tomorrow I’d like you to come down to the station and fill out an official report. This guy’s going to pay.” Marty wrote something down in a small notebook as he spoke.

  “Hello, JD.” Coach came up behind them, his jaw tight. “I’m glad you’re alright. I’ve been worried.”

  “We’ve been worried,” corrected Marty.

  “Let’s go inside. I want to talk to you about something.” Coach wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him inside. Mel and Marty followed. At the table sat a man Max didn’t know, dressed in a suit. He stood as Max approached the table.

  “Hello. You must be Jayden Miller. My name is Bruce Allen. I’m Carl’s brother.”

  “Who?” Max asked.

  “Carl.” Bruce pointed to Coach.

  Max hadn’t thought about Coach having a real name. How stupid of him. He nodded. “So, am I going to a foster home right away, or do I have time to say goodbye to my friends?” Mel began crying. Max put an arm around her.

  “JD,” Coach said, stepping over to the table and picking up a slip of paper. “I believe we have found a way to avoid foster care, if you find it agreeable.”

  “Really? What?” JD’s heart rate ticked up.

  “My brother’s drawn up what is known as a Custodial Agreement. It states that you are under the care of my wife and me until further notice. Obviously when you turn eighteen, you’ll no longer need this,” he said, handing him the document. “Your mother has to agree to this. Otherwise, social services steps in, and it’s out of our hands after that.”

  Max turned to Mel. “Are you willing to sign it?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want, sweetie. But Tim’s out of our lives. I promise. He’s not coming back.” Max looked at Mel. He cared about her a great deal, but he knew, as did JD, that if it wasn’t Tim, it would be another guy just like him. JD wanted her to sign the form. Guilt nipped at his heart, but he wanted a chance to live his life free of fear.

  “Will I be able to visit my mom?”

  “Yes, of course. There will be stipulations to keep you safe, but we have no desire to keep you away from your mom,” Coach insisted.

  Max took a deep breath. “Mom,” he said, so softly only she could hear. “I’m not doing very well. Please. I want you to sign this.”

  She broke down into tears. Max wrapped his arms around her, fighting his own. After a few minutes, she pulled back and signed the form. “I’ll gather your things,” she said, darting off to his room. Max tried following her, but Marty stopped him.

  “JD, I read the letter Izzy gave you. I’m not going to lie. I, as well as Carl, find the whole pact thing very disturbing.” Marty squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before continuing. “We both feel it’s in your best interest to receive some counseling. Suicidal thoughts are not healthy, needless to say, and we want to nip this in the bud before another tragedy strikes. Port Fare has seen enough this past year to last a
lifetime.”

  Max agreed whole-heartedly. Surprisingly, so did JD.

  Max helped Mel collect his things. She cried the entire time. Though a little uncertain about moving in with Coach, JD felt relief.

  Pulling up in front of Coach’s house an hour later, his uncertainty kicked up a few notches as doubt about whether he’d made the right choice or not circled around him.

  “Okay, JD, brace yourself. My boys are pretty excited you’re coming to stay with us. They’re bouncing off the walls, according to my wife.” Coach smiled, tucking the box of JD’s writings under his arm and grabbing a suitcase.

  “How does your wife feel about me crashing in on your family?” Max took the last suitcase and closed the trunk.

  “She’s thrilled to be able to give back. Remember, she spent most of her life in foster care before being adopted by her last foster family,” Coach assured him.

  The front door burst open and two boys, twins about ten years old, Max guessed, came flying down the sidewalk with their blonde hair, and their thousands of freckles that peppered their young faces, and their smiles. Large, warm smiles. JD relaxed a little. “Are you our new brother?” they asked at the same time.

  “I guess I am.” Max smiled.

  “I’m Jared, he’s Conrad. I’m going to be an all-star basketball player.” Jared bounced an imaginary basketball and pretended to throw it through the basketball stand in the driveway. “Do you like basketball?”

  “Yes, but I’m not very good.”

  Dejected, all Jared said was, “Oh.”

  “How about you, Conrad? Are you an all-star basketball player too?” Max asked entering the front door.

  “No way. I like to write stories. I’m going to be a famous author.”

  “I like to write too,” Max told him.

  “Alright! Finally somebody smart around here besides me.” Conrad took the box from his dad. “Come on. I’ll show you your room.”

  That evening, after a shower and more pizza than he thought he could possibly eat, Max crawled into his new bed. He called Mel to say good night. She cried again, but promised to stop by and see him in a couple days before she hung up just after eleven p.m. He considered calling Em, but knew Marty’d have a cow if he called so late. “First think in the morning, Em,” he promised.