Return of Mr. Badpenny

by Brian Bakos

“Uh ... hi,” he said.

  “I’m Melissa Jordanek, from South. We met at your spring dance, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Billy said. “How’s it going?”

  “Just fine.”

  I took Billy’s hand. He kind of jerked back a little, but I held on tight. Mr. Penny was right with us, engulfing us with his smoky presence. Billy glanced about nervously. His hand became cold and sweaty.

  Hey, whatever happened to the big, tough baseball hero? I looked around for Tommy. He was standing outside the boards talking with Amanda. He paid no attention as I skated past him.

  Billy was so scared of Mr. Penny that I had to dump him quick before he fainted dead away. What a wimp! I left the rink and changed back into my shoes, tossing the hateful skates under the bench.

  Let somebody else take them!

  I rushed to the concession area and stuffed my face with pizza and ice cream for half an hour. Mr. Penny spooked the kids ahead of me so I didn’t have to wait much in line.

  I was half way through my second chocolate burrito when I saw Amanda and Tommy heading toward the food counter. I wanted to throw my tray at them. Instead, I retreated to the arcade area and wasted money playing stupid games.

  Mr. Penny stood around, waiting to help me play, but I didn’t want to be bothered. I couldn’t have cared less about what happened on the pin ball tables. My real life was such a total disaster!

  Finally, Mr. Penny vanished, leaving me alone with my misery.

  20: Davis Gets His

  The party started breaking up. Nichole and Cyndy interrupted me in the middle of some idiotic ‘shoot down the airplanes’ arcade game.

  “My Mom’s here,” Nichole said.

  I spun around. “So?”

  Nichole flinched, like she expected me to smack her.

  “Weren’t you going to ride back with us, Melissa?” Cyndy said.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever,” I said.

  I abandoned the machine, leaving the airplanes unshot down. The three of us walked toward the front exit where Nichole’s mom waited in their station wagon. An ugly old Studebaker, no less. Couldn’t they afford anything better?

  The Roll-O-Center was emptying out fast. I hoped I never had to see the place again. Tommy was nowhere around – I never wanted to see him again, either.

  “What about your skates?” Cyndy asked.

  “Don’t worry about my skates, all right?” I said.

  Another flinch. “Okay, Melissa, sorry.”

  It was a very silent ride back. That suited me just fine. Nichole sat rigidly in front with her mom. Cyndy shared the back seat with me, jamming herself over against the door, as far away as possible.

  I knew Dad was home as soon as I came through the door because I heard him and Mom arguing upstairs in their bedroom. Or rather, it used to be their bedroom. These days only Mom stayed there.

  I gripped the stair railing hard to keep my hand from trembling. I didn’t want to trudge up to the combat zone. I didn’t want to hear the hurtful things they were spitting at each other.

  Through the study door came rumblings and explosions, the rat-tat-tat of machine guns. Davis was watching some war movie with his TV turned up loud.

  “Can’t anyone around here act decent?” I yelled, but nobody answered.

  I placed my hands over my ears. Tears burned down my cheeks, spoiling my make up. Through one hand I could hear Mom’s shrill voice and Dad’s angry shouting. The racket of Davis’ war movie forced its way through my other hand.

  Suddenly Mr. Penny was at my side. He didn’t look at all out of place in this crazy house.

  “Do something,” I said. “Make them all stop!”

  Mr. Penny bowed. “Yes, my lady, right away.”

  He turned into a gray mist and seeped under the study door. A moment later I heard an explosion – a real one – followed by a loud crash. The door flew open and Davis stood there, pale as a ghost, his double chins quivering.

  “Mom, help!” he wailed. “My TV blew up!”

  The fighting upstairs abruptly stopped, and Mom came charging down like a mad buffalo. She rushed right past me and took Davis in her arms, comforting him.

  I walked up to my room, unnoticed, and closed the door.

  21: Final Exams

  The next day at school I was in a foul mood. Could anybody blame me for that? I had finals in English and History. My other exams were scheduled for tomorrow and Thursday. Then another year at this dumb school would finally be over.

  Then I’ve got that dance recital next week – with Amanda in it, too! We’ll just see how well she does. And wouldn’t you know Amanda would be the first person I’d run into?

  “Hi, Melissa!” she said in that irritating, bubbly way she’s got.

  I just wanted to smash her.

  “Hi, Amanda,” I said.

  “You were great last night!” she said. “I had no idea you could skate so well.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  Was that a bump on Amanda’s forehead? Good.

  “Let’s get some friends together and go back to the Roll-O-Center,” Amanda said. “Maybe you could teach me some new moves.”

  I said nothing.

  Amanda kept talking, ignoring my snub. She’s good at ignoring snubs.

  “Did you see me wipe out?” she said. “I was so embarrassed!”

  I couldn’t stand listening another second. I gave her my fiercest glare.

  “If you want to learn some new moves, why don’t you ask Tommy?” I said

  Her mouth flew open, and she just stood there in the hall like an idiot.

  I stalked into Miss Greene’s room and plopped down at my desk. Chelsea took her seat in front of me and had the good sense not to say anything. She’s the snot who won the spelling contest. Well, at least Tommy “Player of the Week” Velasco didn’t win!

  Miss Greene passed out the test papers and I knew I was in for it. Several fat essay questions along with four pages of multiple choice glowered at me. I stared at the first question:

  “____________ is the imitation of natural sounds with words.”

  Four possible answers were listed, none of them made the slightest sense to me. I was just about to select one at random when a long, smoky finger appeared on my test paper, pointing to answer “C.”

  Mr. Penny!

  I practically jumped out of my seat, but everybody was concentrating so much on the test that they didn’t notice. Miss Greene looked up briefly, then returned to whatever she was writing.

  Mr. Penny was standing beside me, all dignified looking with one hand behind his back, the other pointed at my test paper. Fortunately, my desk is on an outside row, so nobody was in Mr. Penny’s way to get scared.

  I read the answer he indicated: C) Onomatopoeia

  Sounded like some weird disease, I thought, but marked it anyway. Mr. Penny moved his finger down each page, pointing at answers. They must have all been right, because I already knew some of them and he never missed a beat.

  When I got to the essay part, Mr. Penny knelt down and spoke the answers softly into my ear with his wonderful, musical voice – his handsome face right by me.

  My History final came after lunch. Much of it was about World War 2 – Hitler, the Nazis, all those bloody battles. A lot of the boys really gobbled up this stuff, but I didn’t have a good grasp. I kept hoping that Mr. Penny would come and help me, but he never did.

  Part Four: Disaster

  22: Ball Game Fiasco

  Tommy:

  School’s out and everything is going great! I’m dropping in the ball more often for base hits, and my fielding is better than ever. I actually won the Player of the Week trophy – for real. What more could I ask for?

  Some peace of mind would be nice.

  It was wonderful to ditch Mr. Badpenny. Every day I wake up grateful that he’s not around anymore. Only he is around. Melissa has him, and I don’t feel good about that.

  I was so mad at her. The shabb
y way she’d treated me, her phony change of heart when she saw my equally phony home run. I thought Badpenny would be a good pay back, they deserved each other. Besides, I was desperate to get rid of him and couldn’t think of any other way.

  But now I felt sorry for Melissa. I’ve seen her stalking around school, dark circles under her eyes, with all her old friends shying away. Badpenny is ruining her life, just like he tried to ruin mine. That’s not entirely true. When Badpenny is around, you pretty much wreck your own life.

  I’m thinking that I’m no better than pond scum. I’m finding it harder to look at myself in the mirror.

  Besides, Melissa could be really dangerous. I can’t see Badpenny anymore, but I know that he tripped Amanda. Who’s going to get hurt next? I must have been crazy to give Melissa such a destructive thing. That’s it – I’m innocent by reason of insanity.

  What a phony excuse!

  With these gloomy thoughts squirming in my mind, I sat on the bench Saturday waiting for our baseball game to begin. All the guys were upbeat, as we were playing the Warriors. Cheery warmth soaked our bench, except for the pool of icy silence where I sat.

  “What’s wrong, Tommy?” Quentin asked. “You’re not worried about the Warriors, are you? They’re the worst team in the Summer League.”

  “Yeah,” Jenkie said. “I thought of staying home and letting my baby sister take my place.”

  I tried to join in the kidding, but my mind was elsewhere. I had to approach Melissa and help her to get rid of Badpenny. But how could I get through to her? I looked out at the crowd and saw the answer to my question.

  I didn’t have to worry about getting through to Melissa because she was planning to get through to me.

  “This game might be a lot tougher than anybody thinks,” I said.

  “Yeah, right.” Quentin socked his glove and shook his head.

  Melissa made her way to the second row of the bleachers along the third base line. The people already there moved aside and gave her plenty of room. I knew why. She hadn’t come alone.

  She looked terrible, her usually gorgeous hair all frazzled. Even from this distance I could see that her face was a puffy gray – full of anger and unhappiness. I looked away, ashamed.

  The whistle blew.

  “Come on,” Quentin said. “Let’s flatten these guys!”

  We ran out to take our fielding positions, swagger-jogging as if we were some big shot major league club. We were the hottest team in the Summer League and knew it. Our fans, much increased since our victory over the Sluggers, cheered us on.

  “Go Jags!” they yelled. “Go! Go! Go!”

  Quentin took off his cap and waved to the fans from the royal heights on the pitcher’s mound. The first Warrior batter came to the plate.

  Right from the start, things went terribly wrong. Quentin seemed to be pitching almost in slow motion, his control way off. The lead batter knocked a looping fly ball out to left center field – an easy out under normal circumstances. Brett moved in, waving off the other fielders, and held up his glove for the catch. Tony stood nearby for back up.

  But then the ball tipped off Brett’s glove and landed in the grass behind him. He just stood there, amazed. Tony moved to pick up the ball and slipped, falling on his face. Somebody finally got hold of the ball and flung it toward me. The Warrior runner slid under my tag, spikes flying amid a cloud of dust.

  “Safe!” the umpire yelled.

  The Warrior got up and brushed the dirt off his uniform.

  “Great outfield you’ve got,” he said. “Just like the Three Stooges.”

  I wanted to jam the ball down his throat. Instead, I tossed it back to Quentin, disgusted with the whole situation.

  And so it went. I sensed Badpenny’s presence all around me, ruining our game. With his help, the Warriors wiped us out big time.

  Afterwards, battered and defeated, we sat on our bench, staring off into space.

  “I don’t know what happened,” Roberto said. “It felt like something was holding me back.”

  “Me too,” the others agreed.

  “Tell me about it,” Quentin said. “I just pitched the worst game in history.”

  A dreadful silence fell upon us. Out on the field, the Warriors were finishing their victory celebration and packing up to leave. The spectators were clearing out. They must have been wondering what had become of the mighty Jaguars.

  “Let’s meet at the Belcho Burger,” Quentin said. “We need to talk about this.”

  Everyone mumbled agreement. I got up.

  “I can’t make it, Quentin,” I said. “I’ve got something really important to take care of.”

  23: Confrontation

  I rode my bike after Melissa. She was walking fast, anger shimmering all around her. I caught up, ditched my bike, and covered the last few yards on foot.

  “That was a lousy thing to do!” I grabbed her elbow and turned her around. “What have those guys ever done against you?”

  She drew back her fist and hit me in the chest.

  “Ow!”

  I stumbled back. The punch really hurt, but at least I knew that Mr. Badpenny wasn’t behind it. If so, I’d have been decked for sure.

  I stood massaging my bruised chest, watching Melissa’s back as she stomped away. So, the tough and angry routine wasn’t going to work for me. I tried a different approach.

  “I’m sorry, Melissa!” I called after her.

  She stood motionless, eyes fixed on the sidewalk. I caught up, and she turned on me with fury stabbing out from her eyes.

  “You oughtta be sorry, Tommy!” she said, fists clenched. “You ... you ...!”

  “Go ahead, hit me again if it makes you feel better,” I said.

  I braced myself for the blow. Instead, Melissa burst into tears. I just stood there like the world’s biggest jerk.

  “Melissa, please.”

  I wished that she had slugged me – anything but this terrible crying. Finally, I took her in my arms. She heaved with great racking sobs, hot tears splashed onto my forearms. Then, tears were rolling down my own cheeks. We must have made a pitiful sight.

  “Everybody hates me!” She said between sobs. “I hate myself!”

  “I don’t hate you,” I managed to say.

  Fortunately, we were near a little playground. I led Melissa to a bench and we sat down together. I placed my left arm over her shoulders. She gripped my right hand in both of hers tight enough to hurt, but I didn’t pull away. Some little kids playing on the Jungle Jim looked up, then resumed their make believe games.

  I wished that we were only in some make-believe game. The sun on Melissa’s blonde hair was so bright that I could scarcely look at it. So, I just closed my eyes and held onto her. We sat this way until the crying passed.

  When I looked up again, the little park was empty. I glanced about uneasily. Dang, this was the same place where Badpenny had trounced the karate kids!

  “He’s not around now, is he, Melissa?” I said.

  She shook her head. “He disappeared after the game.”

  A few more minutes passed before Melissa spoke again in a soft little voice that tore my heart.

  “Why did you do this to me, Tommy? I really liked you.”

  “Because I’m an idiot,” I said, “and because ...”

  “Well?”

  I gathered myself to speak some hard truth.

  “Because you were so mean,” I said at last. “Why did you have to act like that?”

  Melissa wiped the last tears out of her eyes with the palms of her hands.

  “I don’t know, Tommy, I really don’t,” Melissa said. “I’ve always liked you, though, ever since we were little. You were so kind and sweet.”

  This sure was an earful. I felt like the world’s biggest jerk again, and the biggest idiot, too. I wished that I could grate myself, like a big ugly cheese, right through the mesh of the park bench and disappear. Melissa settled back against me.

  “I’ve
always felt terrible about myself,” she said. “I guess knocking other people down was supposed to make me feel better. It was so stupid!”

  What could I say to that? I just kept my mouth shut. After a few minutes, she moved out of my arms and began straightening her clothes.

  “Like Amanda,” she said. “She’s been such a good friend all these years, and all I can think about is that she’s more popular than me, she’s better at school than me.”

  That really struck home.

  “I used to feel that way about Quentin,” I said. “I guess I still do, sometimes.”

  Melissa moved back under my arm. She felt so right in this position, as if she was designed to fit perfectly.

  “And there’s my brother, too,” she said. “He’s got so many problems, and all we ever do is fight. Everybody in my family ... we’re like a bunch of strangers living under the same roof.”

  Man, she was breaking my heart. I wanted to pull out a magic wand and erase all her troubles with one wave. But I couldn’t. There was one important thing I could do for her, though.

  “You do want to get rid of Mr. Penny, don’t you, Melissa?” I said.

  “Sure, Tommy, more than anything. He’s way too much for me.”

  I nodded. “I want to help.”

  “How can you do that, Tommy – pass him on to somebody else?”

  “No, no!” I said. “Some other way.”

  Her face brightened a little. “What’s that, Tommy?”

  “I-I don’t know yet,” I said

  “Oh.”

  She sagged back.

  “But I have some ideas that might work,” I added quickly.

  My mind raced for something that Melissa could hang on to. A desperate concern for her flared in my heart. She seemed to be a fairy tale princess endangered by some horrible monster, and I would do anything to be her shining knight.

  “Well?” she said. “What are these ideas?”

  “I don’t want to say anything definite right now,” I said. “I do know that we have to get him back into his coin before we can do anything else. Can you get him to return to the penny?”

  Melissa thought a while. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Good,” I said, “the sooner the better. When you get him back in coin mode, call me immediately, any time.”

  “All right, I will, Tommy.”

  Melissa settled back, relieved, as if she were certain that I could fix everything for her. I felt like a total fraud. How could I possibly free us from Badpenny once and for all?