I got up from the floor where Danny and I had been working. “I better go home. I should be there when Jeremy comes in, I guess.”
Danny nodded, understanding. “See you tomorrow. We can finish this then.”
Jeremy walked into the house about half an hour after I got home. I was in the den when he unlocked the front door. I heard him go into the kitchen and throw his books on the table. I ran up the stairs.
“Hi,” I said, suddenly nervous.
“Hi,” Jeremy answered. He took a container of Tropicana out of the refrigerator and started drinking from it.
“Don’t do that,” I said before I could stop myself. “Mom will be mad.”
“Mom’s not here and I’m just finishing it up.” He tossed the container toward the sink, about a foot from where he was standing. It fell on the floor. Disgusted, he picked it up and put it into the garbage.
“I had a fight with Eddie Gordon today. Mr. Helmsley made us stay after for detention.” He spoke as if it was no big deal, like it was something that happened every other day.
“I know.”
He gaped at me. “Who told you? Mom?”
“Mark. He stopped over at school while I was working on the sets.”
“I guess everyone knows about it.” He didn’t sound proud or embarrassed, just matter-of-fact.
“What happened?” I asked. “Mark said he called you a name.”
“Yeah, and I just about had enough of him so I let him have it.”
“Is Eddie okay?”
“Yeah!” Jeremy was suddenly angry. “What do you care so much about him for? I’m your brother. Don’t you care that he insults me all the time?”
“Sure I do,” I answered, feeling guilty. I’d never told Eddie to stop insulting Jeremy, since I knew it wouldn’t make any difference, except to get him mad at me. But I couldn’t help it. I liked Eddie, in spite of his faults.
“He’s a jerk,” Jeremy said sullenly. “It’s about time somebody put him in his place. I don’t know why someone didn’t do it sooner.”
“Yeah, well,” I began, “but to hit him like that.”
“He’s no good,” Jeremy went on. “I know he put that shaving cream all over Laura Lee’s locker and I told him so again. He did it because he doesn’t like her, and to get Mark in trouble.”
“What does he have against Mark?”
“I heard some kids say that he tried to be good friends with Mark—taking him to ball games and stuff like that. Until Mark got sick and tired of his turning nasty for no reason at all and told him to get lost. So Eddie got even by making it look like Mark sprayed Laura Lee’s locker.”
“I can’t believe that,” I said.
Jeremy looked me straight in the eye. “You know, in some ways you’re a lot dumber than me.”
“Thanks,” I said angrily.
“If you’re so smart,” he said, “you’d never have gotten mixed up with Eddie Gordon.”
“That’s how much you know,” I said loudly, to make my point. “Maybe there’s a side of Eddie that you don’t know about. For example, how he was the only kid around here to become my friend. I didn’t notice anyone else taking the trouble to include me until he did.”
“Did you ever stop to think, Mr. Smarty Pants, that maybe Eddie got friendly with you because he has no friends? He sits alone in the cafeteria and on the school bus.” And with that, he stomped out of the kitchen and up to his room. He slammed the door so hard I was sure it would come off its hinges.
Mom came home soon after that and went upstairs to talk to Jeremy. Dad had a talk with him, too, after supper. Finally, around nine o’clock, Jeremy came down to watch TV in the den with the rest of us. As far as I could see, he didn’t seem at all upset.
“Did they ground you again?” I asked when Mom and Dad went into the kitchen for a second cup of coffee.
“Nope,” he said, grinning. “They don’t care what Mr. Helmsley says; they don’t blame me one bit for what I did.”
I couldn’t help grinning. “I must admit you probably gave Eddie the shock of his life when you smacked him one.”
“Right on the kisser,” Jeremy said, swinging his fist. “Right on the kisser.”
I watched some TV, then took a shower and got ready for bed. Mom called up around a quarter after ten for me to put the light out, that I had school the next day, like she always did. I lay there in the dark, not at all tired. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fight between Jeremy and Eddie. Somehow, even though I hadn’t been thinking about it much all evening, I knew it was of special significance to me. It had a greater effect on me than even the time that Eddie had claimed I’d thrown him a wild ball and punched me.
Maybe up until now I’d refused to look at the rotten things Eddie had been doing all along because I was flattered that he wanted me as his friend. I felt a twinge of shame. All along Eddie had been insulting Jeremy—calling him names and provoking him—and I hardly ever even tried to stop him.
But Eddie was especially nice to me, I reminded myself. He worked with me on my pitching and gave me baseball cards.
I glanced at my clock. It was a few minutes past eleven. Suddenly I wanted a glass of milk. I got out of bed and walked past my parents’ room. The door was closed and I could hear the sound of the TV. Downstairs, I was surprised to find Dad drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen table.
“Still up?” he asked.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I guess so,” I said, not sure where to begin.
Dad said nothing. He was good that way, knowing when to stay quiet.
“I wish I didn’t have a brother like Jeremy. I wish I had someone normal. Someone who could play ball and…” Crying, I crept into my father’s lap.
Dad held me until I calmed down. I never expected to say those things! They just came out.
“Sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean… I mean, I love Jeremy. He’s my brother, but…”
Dad patted my back. “Don’t apologize for your feelings, Adam. Your mother and I wish that Jeremy could function like other thirteen-year-olds, but we know he can’t. It’s hard on all of us, but hardest on Jeremy. He knows, better than any of us, how hard it is to live in a world where everyone can do things he has to struggle with.”
“I guess so.” I thought of Jeremy having so much trouble with his schoolwork and knowing that he had no friends because he was different. I wondered how it must feel to know that you couldn’t do lots of things kids even younger than you could handle easily.
“Then there’s Eddie,” I said after a while. “I don’t know what to do about him. He’s my friend, and then I think—how could I have him as a friend when he’s so nasty to my brother?” I looked Dad in the eye. “Do you think I should stop being his friend because of how he treats Jeremy?”
Dad sighed. “I suppose it would be easiest for you if I told you not to be his friend, but that’s not how it works. It’s up to you, Adam. You have to choose your own friends and be able to decide if a person isn’t for you. My telling you not to see Eddie is like telling you how to feel about him.”
I thought about it. It was up to me to decide whether or not I wanted to keep Eddie as a friend.
Dad laughed. “Don’t look so serious, Adam. I have faith in you that you’ll come up with an answer.”
“I guess one thing I do know is that, no matter how he is, Jeremy is my brother, and I’ll stick up for him.”
Having reached this conclusion, I yawned.
Dad stood up and patted my shoulder. “I think you’ll be able to sleep now.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I hugged him and went up to my room. It was only as I was drifting off to sleep that I realized that I never had my glass of milk.
* * *
But Jeremy’s victory didn’t last very long. The next day he left for school before I did. I was eating my cereal when he ran back into the house, swinging something long and furry from his outstretched hand.
“Look at this!” he shouted indignantly. “Just look at this!”
“Ick! Get that away from me!” I shouted. Mom gasped. It was a small squirrel. Dead. A string was tied tightly around its neck, from which hung a sign saying “For the re-tard.”
“That no-good, rotten Eddie Gordon,” Jeremy sputtered, barely able to get the words out. “Can you believe he did this?” he asked incredulously. “He’s mad at me so he goes ahead and kills a poor, innocent squirrel.”
I was disgusted. So were Mom and Dad.
“I’ll have a word with his father,” Dad said.
“But Leonard,” Mom protested, “we have no proof.”
We all turned to her, frowning.
“Well, it’s true,” she said shakily but firmly. She looked at me. “And he’s your friend, Adam, isn’t he? Would Eddie really do a thing like this?”
“No. Maybe. I—I don’t know,” I said, suddenly confused.
Dad went and got a shoebox and put the dead squirrel inside. “Go catch your bus, Jeremy. I’ll dispose of this, and your mother and I will decide what we’re going to do.” He looked at me. “And you finish your breakfast, if you can.”
I was steaming mad about the dead squirrel all the way to school. What a horrible, disgusting thing to do. Jeremy had to be right about Eddie and Laura Lee’s locker. But the squirrel. Ick! That was even worse. This was it, as far as I was concerned. Eddie was no longer my friend. I thought about him and all the good things he’d done for me, like helping me with my knuckleball and giving me baseball cards and being my friend when no one else was. I felt like crying. No matter how many bad things he’d done, it still hurt to lose a friend.
I didn’t get a chance to tell Danny about the squirrel until our class went to the library.
“What are you going to do about it?” he whispered.
“I’m going to talk to Eddie this afternoon. At practice.”
“What good will that do?” Danny asked. “He’ll only deny it.”
Suddenly Mrs. Hammel was standing between us. “Daniel and Adam, do you wish to stay in with me during recess?”
“No, Mrs. Hammel,” we answered contritely.
“Then conduct yourselves properly in the halls,” she said severely.
I looked down, but not before I caught Danny’s wink.
That afternoon we put the finishing touches on the office set. Mrs. Casey stopped by and said it was a terrific job. Then we grabbed some kids to help and carried all three sets to the auditorium, where they were rehearsing the play. The cast stopped saying their lines while we leaned the sets against the back of the stage. Mr. Landon, Patty and Michelle’s teacher, stood with his hand on his hip watching us. As we were leaving he let out a dramatic sigh and told the kids to go on with the rehearsal, since there couldn’t possibly be any further interruptions. In the hall Danny and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. We were a full five days ahead of schedule. We grabbed our books and left the school.
But we were back an hour later for our last baseball practice. Saturday was the last game of the season and if we won it we’d be in the play-offs. Then there was still the All-Star game next Thursday night. Mr. Gordon had to select four players from our team to play in the game. I had a pretty good chance of being one of the four players, but, as I saw it, it was a toss-up between Jeff and me, and Jeff would get it, being a better hitter and fielder than me.
I felt butterflies in my stomach, as Mom would put it, when I walked onto the field. Should I go over to Eddie as soon as he arrived and let him know that we knew he left the dead squirrel in front of our house for Jeremy, or should I ask him if he did it? I wasn’t good at face-to-face confrontations, but I had to do something.
Eddie came by a few minutes later with his father. He helped Mr. Gordon unload the bats and catcher’s stuff, then headed straight for me.
“Hey, how’re you doing, sport?” He threw one arm around me and waved at Danny.
“Hello, Eddie,” I answered, my heart banging away. Maybe Jeremy and I were wrong. Could Eddie actually have killed that small animal just because he was mad at my brother?
“Hey, cheer up, Adam,” Eddie said, grinning. “Someone would think you’ve seen a dead ghost.” He slapped his hands to his side and broke up laughing. That did it. That was all the proof I needed.
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” I demanded. “Killing a poor squirrel and leaving it for Jeremy.”
He shut up real quick. We stared at each other for what seemed like minutes.
“What are you talking about, huh?” He tried to sound outraged but didn’t quite make it. I pressed on.
“You know what I’m talking about. Just because you and Jeremy had a fight is no reason to do a sick thing like that.”
Eddie looked around. A few of the boys were watching us and his father was coming our way. He lowered his voice in a menacing tone so that only I could hear him.
“You better watch what you say, Krasner. You’re as dumb as your brother if you think you can blame me for killing a squirrel and leaving it for Jeremy.” He grabbed my arm and squeezed until it hurt. “And if you have any brains in your head you’ll know enough to stop spreading lies like that. If you know what’s good for you.”
I tried to shake his hand away but he was too strong. Before I realized what was happening, Danny had taken a swing at him and jabbed him on the shoulder. Eddie winced and released his grip, ready to hit Danny. But his father reached out and shook Eddie by the neck like a mother cat shaking a baby kitten.
“Fighting again, eh?” he said through clenched teeth. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Eddie cringed away from his father. Why, he’s afraid of him, I realized, wondering why I’d never noticed it before.
“All right,” Mr. Gordon shouted to everyone standing in a circle watching what was happening. “Start jogging three times around the bases and home plate starting from here.” He pointed to the spot where we stood.
I got in place behind Danny and Eddie stood behind me.
“I won’t forget this, Krasner,” Eddie muttered.
“Neither will I,” I answered, making my voice sound as tough as I could. But in spite of my bravado, I was scared—scared of what Eddie might do next.
CHAPTER 9
That night Mr. Gordon called to tell me that I’d made the All-Star game.
“Gee, thanks,” I told him, tripping over my words. “I’ll make you glad that you picked me!” Ick! I could have kicked myself for saying such a dumb thing.
“I’m sure you will, Adam,” he answered kindly. “The game’s scheduled for next Thursday. At five o’clock at your school field. The play-offs are Monday and Tuesday evening. Hope it doesn’t rain, because if it does, everything gets thrown off schedule.”
I was all set to say good-bye when Mr. Gordon cleared his throat. “I couldn’t help noticing the fracas at practice today. You and Eddie looked pretty angry. I—er, hope you two are still friends.”
“Sure we are,” I answered quickly.
“Eddie’s a good kid,” Mr. Gordon said with a forced laugh, the kind adults make when they say something that really isn’t true, “but he gets upset too easily. Then he opens his big mouth and tells people off. He’s lost enough friends that way. But I know he really likes you, Adam. He’s told me so many times.”
“Yeah, I know,” I said politely. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the squirrel. “Well, good night, Mr. Gordon.”
“Good night, Adam. See you on Saturday.” I hung up wondering about Eddie and his father. That afternoon Eddie was definitely afraid of him. Mr. Gordon was the sergeant type, always serious and tough. I knew he was always hardest on Eddie during practice, but I’d never thought anything of it. Now that I thought about it, Eddie would cringe whenever his father told him to step into the pitch or hold his mitt lower. I wondered if Mr. Gordon expected too much from Eddie, the way Mom sometimes expected too much from Jeremy, thinking he’d be all righ
t with time and tutors. Then I thought of all the bad things Eddie had done and wondered what his father would do if he found out about them.
* * *
Saturday’s game was the crucial one for us. If we beat the Starlight Delis, it meant that we’d be in fourth place and in next week’s play-offs. Our team got to the field early so we’d be warmed up and ready to play our best.
I was pitching to Richie when I heard a girl call out: “Hi, Adam.”
Then a familiar laugh.
I looked over to where the other team’s parents and friends were gathering and saw Patty waving. I don’t know why I was amazed to see her. Kerry, her brother, was the Starlight Delis’ catcher. I waved back, then threw a fastball to Richie. It was wide.
“Good luck!” she called out just as Richie yelled to me to watch what I was doing. I felt nervous, yet more determined than ever to pitch well today.
To make a long story short, we lost the game 5–4. We all felt bad but, as Mr. Gordon said afterward, we’d played a good game. I knew I’d pitched well, but the thing I was happiest about was that I didn’t let Eddie get to me. When he razzed me for walking two men in a row in the second inning, which I did, and for throwing wild when I was shortstop and he was pitcher—covering first on a play—which I didn’t, I just ignored him. Each time he shut up quickly when he saw he couldn’t get a rise out of me.
So this is the way to do it, I thought. How did I ever let him get under my skin the other times? I was too busy concentrating on the game to give it much thought, but I knew it had something to do with the fact that before his opinion meant a lot to me and now it didn’t. Still, it made me feel kind of sad. Like I’d lost something.
Since it was our last game as a team, we all decided to go for ice cream at Friendly’s with our families. Everyone was for the idea. Everyone, that was, but Jeremy.
“I don’t want to go,” he whined like a five-year-old. “They’re not my team and I don’t care about them.”
And Don't Bring Jeremy Page 7
