The past three days had been so dark it felt good to laugh again. Max could feel JD brighten infinitesimally. He didn’t fight the idea of exercise, and Max took that as a positive sign he was on the right track.
He dug around for running shoes and found none. “I guess we’ll use the tennies you wear to school.” Max remembered them being in poor shape, but having no other choice, he put them on. He opened the front door, stopping as fear flooded him again, so much so he began shaking.
“JD, stop. I won’t push you too hard. We’ll start out slow, I promise.” Max forced himself out the door one step at a time. JD, come on. We’ll do this together.
Max stepped down the first step, only the shaking grew worse. Max went back inside and dropped onto the couch. Frustration ate at him. How was he supposed to help JD if he couldn’t stop the fear from taking over?
After several minutes, the clock chimed four and it all clicked. If Max had left when he wanted to he’d have run into Greg, or worse, Nate.
Max dropped his head down. “JD, I’m sorry, buddy. I forgot.” Just acknowledging JD’s fear seemed to drop the anxiety level. He went into the kitchen and ate a couple pieces of bread while he waited for time to pass. “Carb loading is a good idea before a hard workout, not that this will be too hard,” he assured JD. “Of course, it would be better if we used whole wheat bread, but beggars can’t be choosers.” Half an hour later, Max headed to Applegate Park.
He stretched out his legs, giving step-by-step instructions to JD. He instructed him on how to stretch out his back and oblique muscles also. He went over to the jogging trails and began running at a slow pace.
Memories of Emma inundated Max. This was the park he and Emma used to run in all the time. Passing the large oak tree, Max remembered her standing under it when he first kissed her.
He thought about the hours he and Emma spent tossing the ball to his hyper, black Lab, Belle. He chuckled at the memory. The dog would get so tired her tongue almost dragged the ground, and yet she still wanted to play. The dog died a year later, and Em cried for days. When he approached the playground, Max glanced over at the middle swing. It was where he stood when he first told Emma he loved her. Tears filled his eyes.
He’d gotten so lost in his thoughts he forgot to slow down for JD. He bent over and dropped his hands to his knees, struggling to catch his breath. “Sor . . . ry . . .” he panted.
“JD, are you alright?”
Max’s knees gave out at the sound of her voice. His Emma. He’d know the sound of it anywhere. He looked up at her. She stood in front of him dressed in her blue running shorts and a white t-shirt. Her pretty blond hair was tied up in a ponytail. Max leapt to his feet and threw his arms around her.
“Em,” he said, holding her tight. He inhaled her scent. A new flood of memories hit him. Strong, gut-wrenching emotions. Anger because he’d been robbed of the chance to grow old with Em. Sorrow because once his assignment with JD was over, he’d never see her again. Never hear her laugh. Or see her smile. Never kiss her again.
“Um, JD, what’s the matter?” She tugged away.
Realizing what he’d done, Max stepped back. “I—I just wanted to say I’m really sorry about what happened to Max and his family. I feel terrible.” He took another step back, giving her more space. “And I wasn’t high, I swear,” he added. Max sounded like a broken record, he’d said it so many times in the past few days.
“I know,” she said sadly. “My dad told me this afternoon when I got home from band competition.”
Max could have slapped himself. How had he forgotten about her competition this week in New York City? “How did you do?” he asked, longing to hold her again.
“Good. I placed second.”
“Second’s good.”
“Yes,” she laughed. “It’s better than third.”
Max smiled. “I’ll bet you were the best flutist there. The judges were probably paid off by whoever won.”
“I don’t know about that, but thanks,” she said modestly. “How did you know I played the flute?” Max stammered, not knowing how to answer that.
“Oh, wait. You probably saw it in the school paper yesterday,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“Did you get contacts?” He nodded, amazed she noticed. “I like them.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, I’d better get going.” Em turned and ran up the trail leaving Max standing there. Alone.
“JD! Why didn’t you pay better attention that night? Why?” Max lashed out. He shoved his hands through his hair. “This isn’t fair. Do you hear me, Gabe? This isn’t fair! Why am I paying for your mistake?” he shouted to the heavens.
A couple running past gave him a wide birth at his rant. Max didn’t care. Anger, frustration and complete exhaustion having to deal with JD’s fears had pushed him to the edge. He started jogging home, pushing JD’s body hard. He reached the front door of the small green house dripping in sweat and completely exhausted. Shoving it open roughly, Max stepped inside. The evil one was there to greet him.
“You’d better be more careful, fat boy, or I’m going to have to teach you another lesson.” Tim’s hand patted his belt.
Max exploded. “You ever touch me again, I’m reporting you to the cops.”
Tim walked up to him and shoved him back a few steps. Max pressed right back, pushing his face into Tim’s. He glared into Tim’s weak, watery eyes, adding, “And I’ll tell them everything, and I mean everything. Got it?” There were enough marks on JD’s body, he knew Tim would be in serious trouble.
“Wh-what do you mean everything?” he stuttered while struggling to move away. “I thought you lost your memory.”
“I guess you thought wrong.” Max may not know about all the beatings JD’d gotten, but he doubted Tim would risk it. Tim scurried out the door like the rat he was.
The anger eating at Max surged through him now, never once did he feel any fear out of JD at his confrontation with the evil one. Nor did he care. He’d been cheated. He lost his Em. He’d lost his parents. And he’d lost his life. He’d lost everything and he was stuck in the lumpy body of the world’s biggest wimp. Max went and took a fifteen minute shower to calm himself down.
Only it didn’t work. He got dressed and sat on the bed feeling sorrier and sorrier for himself. He yelled out for Gabe, but he never showed. Max tossed what few belongings JD had around. He grabbed all the clothes out of the dresser, chucking them helter-skelter across the room. He dumped out the garbage can, kicking the trash everywhere. He tore the mattress off the bed and shoved it up against the bedroom door. Every time he thought about losing Emma, losing his family, it renewed his anger. He didn’t stop destroying the room until he was completely exhausted.
He sank to the carpet, panting as if he’d run five hundred miles. He lay back against the topsy-turvy mattress, not caring one iota about the disaster lying in front of him.
“Self-pity is exhausting,” he murmured to himself. For a moment he was glad his parents weren’t around to see what he’d done.
A green square about the size of a large shoebox caught Max’s eye from under the upturned box springs of the bed. He crawled over to it and tugged it out from beneath a winter jacket probably stored there for the season. He pulled the lid off. On top was an admission form for Columbia University, completely filled out. Max wondered why JD never mailed it. He set it aside. The rest of the box held notebooks, at least ten of them. On the cover of each was a date, written in pen, and a title of some sort. Some went back five years, others were new, the newest being dated last September and had the words Junior Year written on it. The neat handwriting, bordering on calligraphy impressed Max. He set it down and picked up a blue one with a large dragon drawn on the cover, and the title “The Princess Emma.” He opened the notebook to a random page and began reading.
At first, he didn’t understand what he read. It was like a book with dialog and scene description. As he read, the story impressed him. He smile
d at the clever discourse. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why JD had copied pages and pages of a book. Surely his life wasn’t that pathetic that he’d spend hours copying a book?
Max turned the page and discovered a drawing of a princess. She had long blonde hair and wore a billowy blue dress. The label Princess Emma was printed underneath it. On the opposite page stood a knight, dressed in steel from head to toe. He was tall with broad shoulders and held a long sword in his hand. Underneath was printed the name Jayden.
“These aren’t words copied from a book, these are stories written by JD.” Max picked up another notebook and read a different story, just as impressive. In each story, the main character, the hero, worked to save the world from some sort of evil, whether it be a large, fire-breathing dragon, or a small, evil man.
Max picked up the notebook dated last September next. This one was different, this one was a journal. He briefly thumbed through it. It chronicled times he hidden in the dumpster, or walked to school to avoid being abused on the bus. In some of the margins, he’d drawn hearts and added Emma’s name. JD had a serious crush on her from the looks of it. Max flipped to the last page dated the day of the accident.
“Got whipped with the extension cord by Tim when I got home. I still can’t find his pen. He told me I’d better find it after dinner or I’d be getting another beating. But I can’t find it anywhere. Maybe mom will come home early and he won’t be able to hit me again today. Tomorrow I’m going to empty my locker out. It has to be in there.
“Talked to Emma in Journalism class. She’s working on a big story about the rats in the cafeteria. I wanted to tell her I’d help her finish it, but I couldn’t get the words out. I’m such a loser.
Max Sánchez talked to me today too, outside my locker while I was looking for the pen. Max Sánchez! I couldn’t believe it. At first I thought he wanted to call me more names, maybe even hit me, but he apologized for calling me and Izzy The Ten. Max Sánchez apologized to me, Lumpy Larry, the school loser. He even asked me if I wanted to work-out with him. But I can’t. He goes to that fancy gym in town. There’s no way my mom could afford that place.
“Maybe tomorrow I’ll see if I can eat lunch with him and his friends. If everyone thinks Max Sánchez is my friend, maybe then they’d stop hurting me all the time.
“Who am I kidding? He was probably just being nice. Max would never be caught dead eating with Lumpy Larry. At least he talked to me. That’s something. Max Sánchez talked to me.
“Got to go. Tim’s calling me and he sounds mad.”
Max shut the book to keep his tears from spoiling the pages. “JD, I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.” Max buried his selfish face in his hands and wept.
Chapter 9
Max woke in a good mood for once. Then he remembered. “It’s Saturday.” JD didn’t have to worry about the bus or being terrorized in the school halls, or having to dumpster-dive after school. He stood and stretched his stiff body. Between his temper tantrum and jogging yesterday, he’d used muscles JD hadn’t used in a while, if ever.
He padded into the kitchen and scrambled up some eggs. Mel was getting ready for work and that meant every man for himself in the kitchen this morning. While his breakfast cooked, Max unwrapped a square of faux cheese and set it on top of the eggs to melt.
“How am I supposed to lose weight eating all this processed crap?” He sneered at the faux cheese as it melted, sort of, globingly over the eggs.
After forcing the eggs and orange glob down, he drank a full glass of milk hoping to balance out the meal a little. Tim wasn’t home yet, and he hadn’t come home all night. As Max put JD’s room back in order, he overheard Mel talking to someone about Tim on the phone. She suspected he cheated on her and was beside herself with worry and hoped he didn’t plan on leaving her.
Max didn’t understand why Mel put up with a loser like that. She worked her herself ragged while Tim did nothing but play poker, eat their food, and cheat on Mel.
But he couldn’t think about the craziness right now. He had a job to do. After Mel left, he implemented his plan to help JD build his body. “Okay, JD, let’s give you some upper body strength.” Max scoured through the cupboards for some cans to use as weights since JD didn’t have any dumbbells. He found two large cans of tomato juice in the back.
“These will do great.” He stood in front of the small window in the living room hoping to check his form in the reflection. It took all he had to look at himself in the filmy window. Shame and guilt haunted him for the way he’d treated JD, and no doubt others like him, when he was alive. His parents had taught him better, yet he pushed aside their words and absorbed the vain praise of everyone around him, filling his head with self-aggrandizing comments.
Was he not the star player of the baseball team? Wasn’t it his talent that had gotten them into the championship series? Did he not date the hottest cheerleader?
In shame, he thought of Emma. Her kind, thoughtful nature was one of the reasons he loved her. But why did she love him? Certainly not because of his compassion. For once it was Max’s emotions that brought him down instead of JD’s.
Stiffening his spine, he raised the cans to his sides, shoulder height, and then raised them straight up to the ceiling. This is for the delts, JD, your shoulder muscles. He counted out the repetitions, or reps as he called them, for JD, giving him pointers on which way to face his hands to get the greatest results. He didn’t get many reps in when the evil one came home.
JD’s body went into flight mode. He wanted to take off out the back door. Max stood firm. It wasn’t easy. The urge to vomit about choked him. No, JD, not anymore. Max hoped after yesterday, Tim would be a bit more careful around JD now.
Tim shoved the door open and stomp into the house wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday. He smelled of body odor and cheap perfume. He sneered at Max. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Max thought of a dozen smart-mouth comebacks, but JD wouldn’t allow any to leave his mouth. “Exercising,” he said. Max found it difficult to speak with JD’s fear shaking his body so hard.
“Why? You trying to build up those puny muscles so you can beat the crap out of me someday, fat boy?” Tim bit out.
Max hadn’t thought of that, but he liked the evil one’s thinking. “I want to lose some weight and get in better shape.” JD, calm down. Please, stop shaking.
“You’re a liar.” Tim ripped the cans from Max’s hands and, going into the kitchen, he opened them, pouring the juice down the sink. “Nice try, fat boy.” He tossed the empty cans into the trash.
Tim’s moxie surprised Max. After their little confrontation, he half expected him to be more cautious. Tim stomped out of the room.
As soon as he heard the shower start, Max grabbed a kitchen chair. “There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” Max created an upper body routine using the chair. He hit every muscle in the arms, shoulders, and upper back. It was even more intense than the cans. JD begged for mercy.
“Push through the pain, JD. Push through the pain.” Max did one more rep of three of each exercise, encouraging him with each one. When he heard the shower shut off, fifteen minutes later Max noted, he slipped the kitchen chair under the table and dropped onto the couch just as the bathroom door opened.
Tim stepped out, dressed in a tan pair of Dockers and a button down shirt. No doubt the blond he’d seen picking Tim up the past few days would be coming to get him. The creep definitely cheated on Mel.
Max wanted to confront him about it, but he couldn’t say a word no matter how hard he tried. Frustrated, Max folded his arms over his chest and glared at Tim instead. If looks could kill, Tim would be a dead man.
“I suggest you stop staring at me, fat boy, and get the kitchen clean.”
Max slowly dragged himself to the sink and began loading the dishwasher, all the while forcing JD’s fears back. He didn’t settle down till Tim drove away with his little blond friend fifteen minutes later.
Max put JD’s body through another half an hour of weight training, completely exhausting him. “Don’t give up. Reach inside yourself and find the strength you didn’t know you had. It’s hard now, but it will get easier, I promise. Just don’t give up.” He repeated his pep talk three more times before finishing. And with Tim gone, he rewarded himself with a long refreshing shower afterwards.
**
“Hey, JD.” Izzy stood in the doorway, waving to Max.
“Hi, Izzy. Come in. Where’ve you been?” Max noted how badly she looked. Her complexion was pale and waxy. She reminded him of one the many corpses from a movie he and his buddy Leo watched a few weeks ago.
Leo. Max hadn’t seen him yet. Man, he missed him. He too was in the band with Emma, and Max wondered how he’d done at the competition.
“I was in the hospital, again. I’m so sick of that place. I’m not going to miss it, not for one second.” She looked at him and smiled. “Soon, JD, soon.”
“Izzy—”
“Yes, I know, you don’t want to talk about it. Okay, fine. So how was school the rest of the week? Did Nate figure out your hiding place yet?”
“No, not yet. Why were you in the hospital?” Max sat down next to her. She threw her leg over his and settled her head back against the couch. Max’s heart warmed. JD cared for Izzy, not in a romantic way, but a friendship, a strong friendship.
“JD, I do believe you left part of your brain back on the Widow Maker.” As soon as she said the name, Max remembered. That was where the accident happened. His dad had just turned on talk radio and Max daydreamed about Emma. It seemed like a lifetime ago. The locals had called the treacherous curve the Widow Maker long before he was born. Max himself knew of three people who’d lost their lives on the curve. Six now.
“Okay.” Izzy sat up. “I was in the hospital because I have Crohns disease. Almost everything I eat makes me crap my guts out or throw up. I take steroids to help it, but they’re not working for some reason, which is why I’m also taking the Percs to kill the pain. Any of this ringing a bell with you?”
Not So Easy Page 7
