Chasm

by Michael Joel Green

  Daniel had meticulously detailed the events, from the discovery at Sutter’s Mill to the arrival of the forty-niners to the effects of the Gold Rush on the cities of that region, Sacramento and San Francisco. He built a replica waterwheel from coat hangers and paper mache, made illustrations describing the process of panning for gold and, what was his favorite part, painted several rocks with gold paint. He spent hours collecting the perfect rocks to use, even painting a few to represent pyrite, known as “fool’s gold.”

  Daniel checked to make sure nothing was broken, fastened the case securely, and went to his first class of the day.

  ***

  The morning passed like any other, uneventful and trouble-free, which was fine with Daniel. He’d experienced enough drama in his life lately. When Brad Sherman stuck Daniel’s textbook together with wet chewing gum, he didn’t get mad. It felt good to be teased again. When Shelley Ferguson asked him to pass a note to Abbie Jenkins, he didn’t protest. He didn’t even mind when a fifth grader stole his seat at lunch. Typically, he’d explain to the fifth grader that this was his seat (“No, my name’s not engraved on it. It’s just understood”), but instead Daniel let the younger boy have it and found a seat at the end of the table (though if he tried it again, Daniel would put him in his place).

  The cafeteria had a specific seating order. The younger kids sat along the far walls, while the older kids sat closer in. For Daniel and his friends, it was a rite of passage. They were sixth graders now and ran the school. Joshua sat with the other third graders along the side wall.

  Daniel rarely spoke to Joshua at school. Occasionally, he saw Joshua sitting at his table, building a tower of tater tots and squirting mustard or ketchup down the sides, but he usually ignored him. The truth was Joshua embarrassed him and Daniel wished they went to different schools. He couldn’t wait for the day it actually happened.

  The boys finished their lunches and were standing to leave when Brad noticed a commotion near the far entrance. “Daniel, man, isn’t that your little brother?”

  Oh, no, what did he do now? Daniel stood on his chair to get a better view. It was Joshua, all right. It was impossible to miss him with the ridiculous outfit he was wearing. Then he saw Eddie Maupin.

  Eddie was the school bully. He’d been in Daniel’s class last year but got held back and was doing his second tour of duty in fifth grade. He was a first-class jerk and obviously got a kick out of picking on younger, smaller kids. Eddie and his flunkies were playing keep-away with Joshua’s bright orange coat.

  “What’s wrong, little Braden? Are you going to cry?”

  Joshua was on the verge of tears. “Give it back, Eddie. Give me my coat back!”

  “Who dresses you, baby Braden? You look like a human box of Skittles.” Eddie waved the coat in the air, as Joshua unsuccessfully tried to grab it. “Little Skittles, little Skittles. Are you colorblind, little Braden? You look like a rainbow.”

  A crowd had gathered. Some laughed at Joshua, while others yelled at Eddie and his jerk friends to stop picking on him, but no one stepped up to challenge the bullies. They knew, once someone confronted Eddie, that person became his next target, so no one did anything until Daniel shoved his way through the crowd.

  “Give him the coat back.” Daniel looked Eddie squarely in the eye. “Give it back now.” Joshua wiped a tear from his eye and smiled.

  With everyone watching, Eddie wasn’t about to let himself be shown up, so he bullied up to Daniel. “What are you going to do about it, Braden?”

  Daniel didn’t budge. “Give it back, Eddie.”

  “Are you going to fight me over a stupid coat?” Eddie appeared a little nervous now. Daniel wasn’t backing down, and he saw Stevie and Brad standing nearby.

  “If that’s what it takes, yeah. I’ll fight you.”

  Eddie handed the coat to Joshua, but not before giving Daniel a seething look. “This ain’t over, Braden. You’ll get yours when you’re least expecting it.” Eddie stormed off, his buddies following closely behind.

  Daniel turned to Joshua. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Daniel.”

  “Don’t mention it. You pick on one Braden, you pick on us all.”

  “Heck, yeah, that’s right! You pick on one of us, you pick on us all!”

  They left the cafeteria together, the brave sixth grader and the younger brother dressed like a box of Skittles.

  “You were awesome back there,” Joshua said, then frowned and looked worried. “Did he mean what he said, that it wasn’t over between the two of you?”

  “He’s all talk. Just a lot of hot air.”

  Joshua breathed a sigh of relief and said, “You’re the best big brother in the world.”

  Daniel tried to keep a straight face but cracked a smile. “You’re all right, too, for a human Skittle.”

  Chapter 7

  Sabotage

  The classroom was buzzing with excitement. It was nearing the end of the day and the students had been waiting all afternoon to give their presentations.

  Each student was required to pick a famous event in California’s history. Some of them, Daniel noticed, had gone to extremes on their projects, making them elaborate and detailed—and big. One boy made a complete replica of the first transcontinental railroad built in the late 1800s, and it took up three desk’s space. Daniel recognized many of the projects: the Golden Gate Bridge, Alcatraz, and a history of earthquakes in California. One student even constructed paper mache oil derricks and poured dark corn syrup to look like oil.

  Stevie was next to go. His project detailed the Missions of California. Daniel had been to his home dozens of times when he was working on it and knew it as well as his own. Twenty-one California missions were built between the late 1700s and early 1800s. They spread out along the Royal Highway, near the coastline, and brought the first non-Native Americans to California. Stevie’s project featured a replica of Mission San Luis Rey built out of everything from fishing wire to ice-cream sticks.

  Daniel could tell Stevie was nervous. Being best friends for so many years, he knew Stevie’s tell-tale giveaways—the eye twitch, tapping foot, and hesitant speech. “Mission … San Luis Rey … uh,” Stevie told the class, “was built in … uh … 1798.” His voice cracked. “It is … uh … considered … the King of the Missions of California … and is … uh … now a National Landmark.”

  Daniel could only shake his head. Stevie was one of the coolest guys he knew but wasn’t going to be a public speaker when he grew up, that was for sure. Stevie finished and the class applauded softly. He took his seat next to Daniel, who gave him a thumbs-up, whispering, “Good job, man.”

  Stevie wiped sweat from his forehead. “I’m glad that’s over. I was nervous up there.”

  “Well, if you were nervous, it didn’t show.”

  “Really?”

  “No, I’m kidding. You made me nervous just watching you.”

  “Thanks a lot, jerk,” Stevie said and punched Daniel in the leg. Then he appeared to remember something. “Hey, where were you at recess this morning? I looked everywhere for you.”

  “What are you talking about? I was out on the quad.”

  “I was there, too, but didn’t see you anywhere.”

  Daniel thought of recess that morning. That’s weird, he realized. He couldn’t remember what he’d done but felt certain he must have been there. He ignored it and finished rehearsing his speech.

  ***

  “The Great California Gold Rush of 1848 began at a place called Sutter’s Mill …”

  Daniel had made four rows of rocks, all painted gold, securing them with an all-purpose adhesive from the craft store. He used labels to describe each of the gold nuggets and fastened metal clips to the carrying case so it could be easily lifted off.

  “The purpose of my project,” he told the class, unfastening the clips, “is to describe the history of the Gold Rush, the sociological and economic importance of the event, and to d
escribe the relevance the Gold Rush has to this day.”

  Daniel lifted the case, but that’s as far as he got. His project had been sabotaged.

  The tops and sides of the rocks were coated with thick black paint, while the wood foundation dripped with white paint. The descriptions on the labels had been crossed out. He’d been so proud of his display and knew he would get an “A” for presentation and content. Nobody knew more about the Gold Rush than he did—and now it was ruined.

  He wanted to explode. Why would someone do this to him? And why did they target only him? “Who did it?” Daniel shouted. “Tell me now, who did this?”

  It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The other students had never seen him act like this before.

  “Daniel,” Mr. Brunson said. “Calm down right this minute.”

  “I won’t calm down. Not until someone tells me who destroyed my project.”

  Mr. Brunson stepped out from behind his desk. “You will calm down or go straight to the principal’s office.”

  Daniel couldn’t bring himself to look at the ruined project and the paint splattered over it. Someone had crossed the line with this prank, and he wasn’t going to let anything, not even stupid Mr. Brunson, stop him. He ripped apart a handful of rocks and held them in his fist, and that’s when it hit him—he knew who’d done it.

  “Daniel,” Mr. Brunson ordered. “Take your seat right this second.”

  Eddie Maupin! Of course, it had to be Eddie. How could he have been so stupid and not realized it? Eddie had threatened him a couple of hours ago.

  Something snapped inside him and Daniel went into a rage, yelling uncontrollably. The other students, quiet until now, grew excited. Mr. Brunson was losing control of his class in a hurry. “Daniel, you’re coming with me to the principal’s office right now.”

  “I hate him,” Daniel said. “I hate him. I hate him!” He lifted his project into the air. “I hate this stupid class, I hate the Gold Rush of 1848, and I hate this stupid project.” With that, he slammed the model to the ground, smashing it to pieces.

  His classmates shouted while Mr. Brunson tried one last time. “Dan—” he started to say but was interrupted by the bell. The students stood to leave, but Daniel had already bolted out the door.

  Daniel shoved Eddie into the locker. “Why did you do it?” Eddie was caught off guard and fell backwards. “I’m not afraid of you, Eddie.”

  A crowd quickly gathered. Eddie regained his balance and pushed back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Braden. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Yeah, right, I’m sure,” Daniel shouted. Some of his spit caught Eddie in the face. Anger flashed in Eddie’s eyes. He didn’t put up with getting spit on, especially when others were watching. He pushed Daniel again, harder this time so that Daniel fell. “I told you I didn’t do anything, so drop it, Braden.”

  Daniel didn’t like being embarrassed in front of friends, either. He scrambled to his feet and lunged at Eddie, who met him with a tackle. While the other students cheered and yelled, the two boys wrestled each other to the floor. The corridor brimmed with the frenzy of the fight, as well as the raised voices of those running to join the fray. Neither Daniel nor Eddie was able to gain an edge on the other, until Daniel landed a right hand to Eddie’s face. Eddie touched his lip with his tongue to check for blood, then charged at Daniel with relentless fury.

  The crowd formed a tight wall around them so it was tough to see from the back, and a few of the shorter students stood on tiptoes to get a better view. Shouts of “Go, Daniel” and “You can take him, Braden” filled the hallway (Eddie wasn’t exactly the most well-liked guy in school) until interrupted by Mr. Brunson and Coach Durbin, the burly football coach who doubled as a geography teacher and, for the moment, a bouncer. The two men shoved their way forward and separated Eddie and Daniel, who continued to shout at each other.

  ***

  Daniel’s mother, Emi, didn’t speak on the drive home from school. Daniel was glad for the silence. The last thing he needed right now was to be yelled at. Yeah, he’d gotten in a fight. Yeah, he’d gotten suspended. And, yeah, he’d probably be grounded until he was old and gray. He just wanted those few moments of silence before the inevitable storm slammed down on him.

  It was a weird mix of emotions he was experiencing. He was still really mad—at Eddie; at Mrs. Morris, who’d been completely unreasonable when she suspended him, not even letting him give his side of the story; at Mr. Brunson, of course, who was his favorite teacher (not anymore!); and mostly at himself. He’d lost control, and it upset him. Stupid Eddie, he thought. It’s all his fault.

  Until then, Daniel’s way of dealing with trouble was by ignoring it. Keep pushing it out of your mind and things will eventually straighten themselves out, right? After all, doesn’t “time heal all wounds?” That’s what his lousy teacher was so fond of saying. It must be true, right?

  He was frightened and didn’t understand what was happening. Was he finally tripping off the deep end—going crazy? Was this how it began? Seeing things that nobody else saw. Having nightmares, getting these stupid headaches—and now this.

  Why can’t things go back to the way they were? Why did Dad have to die? Why do terrible things happen? It makes no sense. Who’s going to play pitch with me now? Who’s going to take me camping? Who will teach me how to drive?

  The car pulled into the driveway. Joshua was the first out. Emi took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts. “Plan on being grounded for a long, long time,” she told Daniel, then stepped out of the car.

  Chapter 8

  Branches

  Daniel stuck out his tongue and mocked his mother’s words. “Plan on being grounded a long, long time.” He waved his finger from side to side, mimicking her. “And don’t come out of your room until supper. I want you to think about what you’ve done.”

  Banished to his room. It was getting to be an everyday occurrence. Is that the best she can come up with? He grabbed a handful of rubber bands and took target practice at a plastic cup on his storage hutch. I’m glad to be away from her.

  He designed a car jump out of a cardboard box and drove his remote control Maserati off it. There isn’t any place I’d rather be. He picked up his out-of-tune ukulele and plucked two its strings (screeeech!). I don’t need to think about what I’ve done. He did a reverse dunk on his Nerf hoop. I don’t need them. I don’t need anybody.

  After twenty minutes, having played with every toy, flown every plane, and crashed every car, he was bored. He lay on his bed and, contrary to what he intended, followed his mom’s advice and contemplated what he’d done. He remembered what Mrs. Morris said and it made him cringe. “I’m shocked, Daniel. This is so unlike you. You’ve always been such a respectful young man.”

  She called him a young man. That’s what hurt more than anything else—more than the ruined project, the bruise on his eye, the suspension, or being grounded. She spoke to him with respect and he didn’t deserve it. His principal was right, it was unlike him to act this way. But then he realized he’d been acting unlike himself for a long time. Ever since I started losing my mind.

  He pulled a yellow balloon from his desk and blew it up. “This is Daniel’s brain,” he said, loosening his grip to let air seep out. “This is Daniel’s brain turned to mush.” He squeezed out the remaining air and threw the balloon against the wall. “I’m not going to sit around and go crazy,” he said, grabbing his pullover and climbing out the window.

  ***

  Daniel hadn’t walked past the oak tree since that day. He longed to have the moment back, when he stormed off alone in the rain, angry at his father for being late. He wondered if it would haunt him the rest of his life.

  The sun would be setting soon, so Daniel hurried his pace as he walked to the field. Seeing the tree in the distance, he hesitated. He remembered the last time he was here, how the rain started to fall. He remembered his mother asking him to invite Joshua and how he refused. He remem
bered the launch, how the rocket veered off course into the limbs of the old oak. Daniel put his head down and kept walking.

  The rocket was higher than he remembered; it would be a hard climb. He looked around and spotted the launch pad in the distance, then ran to collect it. He didn’t want to leave anything behind.

  ***

  The limbs were smaller and increasingly farther apart, and Daniel scraped his arms struggling to reach the branches. He saw the silver shape of the rocket ten feet above and kept going until it was finally within reach.

  Daniel carefully extracted it from the branches, turned it over, and examined its parts. The parachute was still stuffed inside, the wings were mangled and torn, and the decals had come off, but all in all, it was in good shape. They’d done a nice job assembling it.

  Daniel looked around. It was Grisby as he’d never seen it—from a bird’s-eye view. He looked out over the ocean; the sun reflecting off the water created a brilliant sheen. An old fishing trawler was coming in to dock, and the fishermen were bringing up the nets. He saw shapes in the distance and squinted to see them better. “Awesome,” he yelled. “A school of dolphins.” The dolphins disappeared in the waves then emerged again, while seagulls flew over them. They looked so peaceful, Daniel thought. He watched them, trying to imagine what it would be like to be a dolphin, until they disappeared from view.

  From his perch, he saw the houses lining the bluff. I wonder what Stevie’s doing right now. I bet he’s either jumping on the trampoline or in his room playing video games. I know he’s not doing homework. He always waits until the last minute to do that.

  He saw the familiar RV parked in the McCormick’s driveway. “Eeeewwwww!” he said and made an unpleasant face. Mrs. McCormick was watering her lawn in one of those old-lady muumuu dresses. He wished he could yell loud enough so that she heard him. He’d tell her to take the rollers out of her hair and put on something less frumpy. “Seriously, that is so gross. Put on some pants, please.”

  Nestled in the tree, he found his spirit revived. It was as if he’d gotten away from his own small world at home and was getting a glimpse of a bigger picture, one where his own concerns didn’t seem as important. For a few moments, he was able to forget about the bad dreams and the fights with his mom. He was able to see from a different perspective, and it was a welcome change.