Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  The purple pencil twirled and they were quiet. Rodriguez had two fists on the table, which he gazed at as he digested the information and considered Vincent's judgment. Who was he to butt in? To burst into the situation and force his own opinions on Vincent? With thoughts fading, the jock returned to his drawing while Vincent sat idly in his chair, watching an empty space of air dully.

  "So Jake is the one with the rats? I can't remember if you ever mentioned it before."

  Vincent filled his vision with the boy who spoke. "The rats? Them, I've mentioned them tons. But yeah, Jake- I never told you whose they were. I think I tried to avoid it- Well, since the Chief doesn't have the best opinion of him. That car theft thing was a nasty, messy business. It left a bad taste in the cops' mouths, having the wrong guy, being used- I guess. I dunno, it- it was pretty weird and crazy. It really sucked for Jake. I felt really bad when it happened. It was a bad time for him…his mom had divorced his dad like a year before it happened…less, maybe. It was a bad time."

  "…I'm sorry." The gloom that had covered Vincent while he was speaking prompted Rodriguez to offer up some form of comfort, however weak or confused. The more they talked, he noticed, the darker the conversation was becoming.

  "It's alright. Jake got over it. It was for the best- his mom wasn't the greatest kind of woman… But it hurt his dad more, and I like his dad, he's a really cool guy… But that's what led to…everything that the Chief dislikes about Jake. He has anger issues, I know that." Vincent nodded to himself. "But, that whole…mess of shit made it all worse for him. But he's a good guy, Rodriguez, and he's a good and close friend of mine. If…well, I've never really seen it this way, but the friendship itself is close enough that…if I had ever had a brother, I would have that kind of friendship with him, like the one I have with Jake. But I don't see him as a brother…" He shook his head and frowned at Rodriguez who looked up when the red eyes were on him. "Am I just being- am I just confusing you? Or-"

  "No, no-" Rodriguez shook his head sharply and returned to his drawing. "-no, I get it. It get it, totally. I just don't know him well. I don't really dislike him or anything- I just don't know him."

  Pencils sounded on paper as they worked.

  "And your sister is safe with him."

  The mention of William triggering an inherent alarm, Rodriguez forgot about his drawing, becoming more engrossed in the conversation as the topic became increasingly more important to him.

  Vincent didn't let the jock speak, wanting to get the explanation down before he lost the chance, or the drive to complete it. "Jake had some issues when he was younger- you know, mid-teens (if that's what it's called, whatever) and he…um he had some issues respecting girls. He had been around some pretty…er, well I won't say." His posture shifted as the discomfort flushed through him and dissipated gradually while he continued. "But I let his dad know about it at some point – an accident, I won't deliberately do anything like that otherwise – and, well…his dad, I think…manually corrected Jake."

  The wording implied something disturbing to both of the boys. Vincent sensed that Rodriguez had assumed the worse and now earnestly wished to explain the assumed evil away, so his pace quickened with the raised pitch of his voice, both of which eased after a few things had been said.

  "Joel- er, is Jake's dad, and he has a strict kind of moral code with…with all things female, basically." The pale teen leaned back in his chair and stretched a bit to collect his thoughts and loosen some of his tension. "If a woman, or a girl, has a weapon, like a gun, and is gonna shoot you in like the head, or whatever…he says that you - as the man - can't do anything. You can't touch her. You can't do shit to her, you know what I mean? If she wants to shoot you, you can't hurt her- You can sure as hell run, but you can't lay a hand on her. If a woman is about to get shot - then, you – because you're a man - have to get between her and the bullet and save her. It's the man's duty, in his mind, because men were built stronger for the purpose of protecting females… I dunno how he sees it… But I've kinda looked at it as part of evolution, in order to understand what he means. The females reproduce- er…they make the babies and all that stuff." Vincent coughed and ruffled his hair, and then spread his arms to stretch his muscles again. "And guys protect them so that the human race doesn't die out… But Joel really sees it more as in…the stronger male protects the weaker female and it is a crime against his honor to lay a hand on a woman."

  Vincent was quiet as his explanation took root and became stronger, with further mental adjustment on Rodriguez's side. The delinquent was picking through his own colored pencils, along with Rodriguez's, to add to his drawing. Vincent began to speak when Rodriguez seemed to have had enough time to accept what had been said so far.

  "But I think it really comes from the size in their family. They're all big…huge guys. …Jake is the little giant." Rodriguez couldn't help but blink in surprise and stare. "Joel is basically seven feet tall…he's got some problems with his legs, just a little, now- I think, because of it. But, if he were to so much as nudge someone small, let's say a woman who's maybe 120 pounds… She'd go straight into the floor or a wall, without him even meaning to do it – though that has never, never happened, to my knowledge – just because of his size and weight. And if Jake were to, in some instance, slightly push a girl, maybe to get her away from him or whatever, doesn't matter, the likelihood is that she'd get hurt somehow. Though, that has never happened. But that's probably the reason why Joel has his…code of male conduct thing, and he really pounded it into Jake's head for his own sake, probably… but not really literally, Rodriguez, cuz Joel is a really nice guy and he loves Jake. Jake's his only son, his only kid, so…"

  Vincent released the compressed air that had been putting pressure on his chest, and let his pencil fall on the dented and stained wood of the table as he realized how the conversation was taxing his body, how he felt more than a little fatigued at this point. He rolled a shoulder and cracked his neck, taking deeper breaths and closing his eyes for a time. "But yeah, so Jake got over his disrespecting girls problem – and whatever he says now is mostly a joke. I mean, you could have some girl with a freaken sign taped to her forehead saying "Disrespect me! I'm a total-" er…whatever, you know? Walking down a street even butt naked, and he'd still respect her, he wouldn't say anything and wouldn't give her any sort of bad attention even if she wanted it…alright?" Vincent hunted for Rodriguez's response in the tan features, but the jock remained deep in thought, so the red gaze returned to the table when it found it had nothing to interpret. The pale hands had lost the motivation to draw, and were hidden in the boy's lap.

  "So you see…" Vincent began again after what appeared to be a few minutes had passed. "Female Rodriguez is safe with Jake…though, the safest person in the world for her to ever be with is his dad. He'd just lay down his life for her without even knowing her name… So…I was just saying this Rodriguez, in case you were a little…nervous or anything about Jake and your sister, since…you didn't really know that he has an odd sense of humor sometimes…which might be on the border of being- which might seem rude – mostly when he thinks he might not like someone- But he doesn't really mean anything bad by it."

  Rodriguez responded quietly while concentrating on copying down the creases in his left hand. "Alright… Yeah, I get it."

  It took a while, but eventually Vincent returned his attention to his art. A few more minutes went by before he gave the blonde a cautious glance. "Are you gonna tell your mom where I'm staying? …I'm not really saying you can or can't- you can do whatever. I just don't know what she'll think of it. …She doesn't really like Jake."

  "If she asks me about it, I'll explain that you're staying with a friend who's gonna look after you. If she asks if I know who it is, I'll tell her -but I'll let her know that Jake is a good friend…and he has nice pets that like you and want you to stay there."

  The joke made them both smile faintly and by the time the bell rang for the next class, their spirits
had risen significantly, as well as their perception of one another.

  His uncle didn't take him out very often. Well, "out" being… something work related… At least, that's how Vincent saw it. Work stuff. Illegal, but okay since Uncle does it and he's super smart and wouldn't do anything bad. But Vincent enjoyed spending time with his uncle, though he spent 80% of that time with Joel.

  Vincent was scrunched into a chair that was backed up against the wall, his chin on his knees, debating whether or not it would be inappropriate to close his eyes. He wasn't intending on taking a nap. Just shutting his eyes for a bit. But he perked up as a large shape rolled by, and Joel looked down at the skinny kid. The giant grinned, causing Vincent to catch the smile-virus Joel was so adept at spreading, and he beamed back, even as Joel nearly pushed him out of the chair as he ruffled Vincent's wild hair. "What's your uncle's opinion on you getting a decent hair-cut?"

  A snicker wavered beneath the ruffling giant hand. It became a regular chuckle when Joel picked out a long black lock of hair and held it up to measure it with his mental ruler. Vincent laughed as he noticed how long his hair was when straightened from its natural waves. "Does it look like my uncle thinks haircuts are all that important?"

  Joel glanced down, frowning slightly as he worked with the words and connected them with W.C.D.

  Bright red eyes gleamed as Vincent continued to smile, "And what about you? Your hair's at least as long as mine. At least."

  "Oh, but I tie up my hair." Joel's dark eyes crinkled as he gained the upper hand, literally placing his giant hand on the boy's head and patting it into submission. He laid out his sentence physically, a word for each pat, "And. So. Does. Your. Uncle." Joel ruffled Vincent's hair roughly, "Tame that wild mane already."

  A child's laughter piqued the interest of a few bodies in the next room, the room Joel had just come from and to which he was now returning, having suggested that Vincent go play outside, given that his better-than-average hearing might get him into trouble. Joel shut the door around the same time Vincent was shutting the front door behind him, and while Joel turned to the table loaded with faces, Vincent turned to the empty alleyway.

  The preteen in scuffed jeans and a black hoody scrunched himself onto a tiny, yet steep, concrete step. And the sound of boys drifted towards him, so that he looked on as a small group sauntered around the corner of a building and, as usual, didn't pay any attention to Vincent. But that was alright. Vincent rarely got attention that was actually worth having. He liked watching kids his age. Jake called it "People Watching," and if it had its own name and was actually called something, then of course it was totally normal. People watching was funny, in that it wasn't quite like watching animals at a zoo. Although, to be honest, Vincent had never been to a zoo. He just assumed the right to claim the experience, since it was supposed to be a common thing that everybody did, and all that. People watching was more like watching TV. It was fun. If the people on TV were having fun, you were having fun. If something dramatic was going on, it was really interesting. And Vincent probably enjoyed people watching more than other 6th graders, since his uncle didn't have a TV. Television makes you stupid. Vincent pondered for a moment, trying to find some process of 'stupidification' that might come from people watching. You could watch people do stupid things in real life, and that was a way of learning without having to do those stupid things yourself.

  Vincent felt pretty good about his hobby, now that he'd thought it through, and the good feelings snuck up on him and glued a smile to his face. And it seemed to stick there, pretty well.

  Looking back, Vincent always believed it was his stupid smile and stupid way of sitting that had drawn the boys over to the steps. He didn't notice them until the scuffing of shoes on pavement was basically under his nose. Vincent looked up, adding nervousness to the good-mood-smile glued to his face.

  "Hey." A skinny kid, maybe Vincent's age or a couple years older, was holding something, or touching something near his pocket. Vincent didn't want to risk seeming rude, since Oh my god, they were actually talking to him and seemed nice, so he didn't investigate the object, or anything else about the boys around him. Just their faces. And their faces had smiles on them.

  Vincent was a bit choked up on happiness, so he had to swallow before looking the same-age-or-older boy in the eyes. "He-ii," ugghh. He hadn't been able to choose between Hey and Hi, and ended up messing everything up. Now they were all going to walk away, or maybe laugh at him and then walk away-

  "What're you doin' out here?" It was the same boy speaking, and Vincent blinked up at him, tapping his fingers against his knee-caps nervously. He wished the tapping had made some sort of sound to cover his noisy gulp.

  "Jus' sitting."

  "Really? 'Jus' sittin'?'" A smirk formed. Or maybe it had been there before, in the smile, but it was only then that Vincent saw it as a smirk.

  "Mhm." The wild mane bobbed up and down emphatically as Vincent tried to minimize his verbal exchanges, given his bad-luck, always stuttering or doing something uncool. He could never be cool, even just the cool that made you fit in with the normal kids. And here he was, about to go into Junior High.

  "Do you like sitting?" Red eyes widened as this new voice spoke. Vincent hunched his shoulders out of habit, not looking up at the boy responsible for the tone that was so familiar to him.

  Vincent shrugged, but it seemed like the boys couldn't see it, since another one asked the same question. Vincent told his black sneakers that, "Sitting is sitting. I guess I like it. There's nothing to dislike about it…"

  "Does your mama sit on her ass all day? Is that how it got so fat?"

  Startled red eyes gaped at the preteen 'comedian' as he was high-fived by one of his friends. Both of his friends were sniggering as a means of congratulating the comedian's unquestionable genius.

  Then one tried to leech off the joke, "Yo mama so fat, her ass can't fit through the front door."

  The original jokester sneered at his friend, and then down at Vincent. "No. Yo mama's so damn fat… that she can't even fit through the garage door!"

  Trills of hilarity erupted, and the whole alleyway was filled with the ruckus of young preteen voices. "Oh man, that was sweet." "Ohoo! Burn! You want some aloe vera for that burn? Huh? Huh- do ya? Freaky boy?" "Aha! No! He needs a better name than that."

  Hiding his frown in his knees, Vincent's brow furrowed due to the angle as his eyes strained upwards to watch the boys' faces. "I already got a name," he mumbled into his knees.

  Pale hands clenched as the boys chuckled and one pointed at him, for no reason apparently, since it was another boy who started antagonizing Vincent.

  "What? Your name's not Freak? Man your parents must be stoopid. Cuz' obviously, you are a freak, and that's what you should be called."

  "You're stupid." Vincent muttered back, against his will. The fat jokes having prickled him in an unpleasant way; his heart was flying in his chest, and he gulped again, causing the stutter. "Y-you can't even say stupid right."

  "Oh?" The antagonizing boy pulled his hood over his head and leaned back on one leg, shoving his hands into the pouch of his sweatshirt. The other boys were oohing and ahhhing around them, in the partial (though disorganized) semicircle they'd formed in front of the steps. "Burn!" Someone said, laughing at his friend. He nudged the friend with his elbow.

  Vincent, jolting up from his knees and hitting his back against the concrete step, looked on in amazement as the boy who didn't know how to pronounce stupid, kidney-punched Burn!-boy. Stoopid-boy laughed cruelly at his injured friend, a forced and fake laugh that grated against Vincent's spine as his wide eyes continued to people watch. "Who the f* do you think you are? Huh? I sure as f* didn't just get burned! Stoopid is a way of making fun of stupid. You should know that, Stoopid!" And with that, Stoopid-boy shoved Burn!-boy. And the others kept laughing, since they themselves were people watching.

  But now that Burn!-boy was out of reach, Vincent, the real perpetrator, was the preferable
target. With a rigid spine, Vincent took on the full blunt assault of ballooned anger and pseudo-pissed off-ness Stoopid-boy snarled down at him, "You know what? You're the one who's gonna be named Stoopid. Right here and now. You're Stoopid."

  "No. My name's Vincent. Your name's Stoopid." Vincent couldn't react to the unexpected jab, as the boy dug his finger into Vincent's forehead, shoving his nail into the pale skin. In pain, Vincent slapped the hand away and scooted clumsily to the side, trying to get off the steps while also trying to keep his pants up, since they'd skidded against the concrete. However, the whole group of boys moved in a synchronized sweep to block his escape. Clearly, they'd had a lot of practice.

  Gingerly touching his stinging forehead, Vincent froze, stiffened by the red that marked his finger. He looked up, eyes blank, not quite comprehending what was happening, or why this had to be happening to him, when all he'd done was people watch… or maybe he shouldn't have even looked at them… or he should've just gone inside to hide. Although, Joel had told him to go outside…

  A breeze picked up, searing into Vincent's cut, and his tumultuous confusion condensed into centrifugal resentment. He glared at the boy who had hurt him, fueling his anger with Stoopid's unfounded haughtiness. "What?" Vincent spat, nearly hissing at the boy who paused in surprise. "Are you some kind of girl, or what? Nobody ever teach you how to cut your stupid nails? Or are you so stupid, that they gave up?"

  Real merriment broke out from this, as one of the boys genuinely enjoyed Vincent's unexpected come-back. Stoopid's face soured, and he checked on his non-laughing friend to make sure all was not lost. Nope. The other guy wasn't even smiling. He'd be his new best friend after this, Stoopid thought, when he scowled down at Vincent. "What's your name?"