Bad Juju (5 page)

“Mom, this is Jake.  Take us to his place.  You can pick me up before dinner.  We are going to hang out with his friend.”

Rio
Garcia was not happy with Principal Schafer’s decision.  He silently fumed while packing up his books. 
Two weeks
of
out-of-school suspension plus a week of in-school-suspension while the asshole
gets
a whopping four weeks
inside
of the
Zoo.
  He was the one who was being obnoxious.  He was the one who threw the first punch.
Only one word
could
describe what just happened
-
unfair.

Rio
was not prepared for Henry’s aggression.  Social mutants
like him
never
fought and always did what they were told
. 
His right hook…damn that boy was full of surp
r
ises.
 
Henry’s
expression was calm
while
he
mechanically
swung
hit after hit.

Rio
had never heard of Henry
Novak before Mrs. Fontana’s Honor’s Geometry class. 
He
resented the retard for even being allowed honor’s instruction.  Because of some vague disorder, every staff member at Fremont High catered to
Henry
like some king.  Unfair.

Rio
’
s
doctor was unconcerned with his bruises, but troubled by his broken arm and collarbone.  His prognosis included a minimum of six weeks of a cast and shoulder brace,
and
then several weeks of physical therapy.  This translated into half
of a season,
if not the whole season
, of no baseball
.

Rio
was only a sophomore, but played both varsity baseball and football
because of his size and ability
.  He was a fine catcher, lead-off hitter, and star running back.  He expected acceptance
and
full scholarship to a top ten college.  What if he never healed properly? 
This is so u
nfair.  If this sick bastard was going to ruin
my
life, then an eye
for
an eye
, Rio silently stewed
.

Once in the car,
Rio
’
s
parents
spoke
freely.  He already predicted his dad’s reaction.

“Son, good job.  You’ve just thrown away baseball season, and who knows, maybe even football.  Henry Novak has As
p
erger’s for Christ’s sake.  You failed to mention that last night.  Why don’t you just beat up an old lady in a wheel chair?  You’re lucky he didn’t throw your ass in an alternative school.  That principal just gave you one
helluva
gift.  Probably because
you’re a star athlete
,” Alonzo lectured.
  Rio’s dad
rod
e his ass on a regular basis
.

“Al, look at your son.  That Henry is no old lady in a chair.  He’s bigger, at least thirty pounds more.  And taller, too.  The way I understand it is that As
p
erger’s is some kind of communication problem.  That boy couldn’t pick up on
Rio
’
s
body language.  A miscommunication…”

“Sue, stop.  We both know what this is about. 
Rio
had to play
big shot
for that girl.  What’s her name?  Brittany? 
Play tough guy. 
Real tough now,” Alonzo interrupted.

Rio
’
s
parents quarreled the rest of the way home.  His mother, Sue, faithfully took his side while his father assumed the worst. 
By the time they turned onto Norway Point, they stopped
bickering.
 
Silent tension
followed. 
Rio
checked his phone.  Dozens of curious texts were displayed in his message box.  The one that instantly stood out was sent by his best friend, Bart.  It simply read, “10060 Norway-HN.”

While his dad drove down their street,
Rio
noticed addresses they passed.  Most were covered with snow, but the ones that weren’t read 5010, 5200, 5550 until they reached his house number, 6010.  Norway Point was a long street that weaved around Lake Hayward.  Henry must have been less than a mile away on the other side o
f the lake.

Rio
lived in one of the most extravagant homes on the lake.  His mother, Sue, was a full-blooded
Dakota Sioux Indian, born and bred on an Indian reservation.  She turned her heritage into a gold mine.  Under Alonzo’s direction, she opened a casino and then another one a couple of years later.  Plans of a third casino currently monopolized
their
dinner conversation. 
The casinos
were not only profitable, but exempt from taxes. 
Rio
figured the only thing that kept his parents together was their mini-empire of slot machines. 

His brother and sister, both in their late twenties, never amounted to much
.  They ended up working at
the family business
as
mom’s and dad’s slaves.  Well-paid
slaves
who
would be taking over the
casinos
once his parents got too old, but nonetheless slaves
. 
Rio
would rather die than end up beholden to
his parents or anyone
.  He dreamed of getting
away
from his family,
from
Wisconsin,
from
every
small town
filled
with small mind
s
.  He and a girl like Brittany, maybe even Brittany herself, could make their mark in Chicago, perhaps even New York.  With his looks, brains, talent, and charismatic
personality
,
destiny
was calling his
name
.  Only a sophomore and
Rio
was already the school’s brightest star.

As the first week of suspension droned on,
Rio
began
to enjoy
his punishment.  Both parents put in long hours at their casinos, leaving
him alone in
the house.  He slept
late
, watched TV, played video games, and pumped out his classwork that was dropped off by alternating friends on a daily basis.  Brittany
Bonaducci
came by on Friday.

“Hi
Rio
.  My turn
to deliver
,” she said, holding up her backpack.

Standing on his front porch with the blustery wind whipping
through
her caramel hair made her look like a goddess.  He
invited her inside,
excited she was
visiting him
.

“What a gorgeous ho
m
e your parents have.  I love the view.  Do you boat?” she asked as she strutted through the foyer toward the enormous two-story picture window
with doors leading out to a wrap-around deck
.  She
took
off her coat
,
revealing skin-tight jeans and
a
shrunken cardigan. 
Rio
admired her voluptuous body.

“Our boats
and jet skis
are in storage now.  In April we have them docked.  Would you like to go water skiing with me this spring?”  She smiled and nodded. 
Rio
handed her a
can of Coke
.  “So, what’s my homework?”

Brittany turned red and coyly answered, “I just wanted an excuse to…”

“Really?”
Rio
asked, aroused.  He made sure his sweatshirt was pulled all the way down.  Normally, he would have pounced, taking her comment as a
request
to hook up.  Since eighth grade,
he
had hone
d
his womanizing skills to a level Casanova would have envied.  He had a fan club of horny girls that offered themselves to him at a moment’s notice.  Brittany was different than his groupies.  She was in his league.  He wanted to take it slow
with plans of getting her to be
his girlfriend.

“I’m flattered you came by.  How’s that fuck
who
caused all of this shit?”

“He goes to the Zoo every
day, but Mrs. Fontana has a real soft spot for him.  Beware of that once you’re back.  He eats lunch with her.”

“But that’s not allowed in ISS.  They’re supposed to eat inside the room,” he argued.

“I know, but he’s special, remember?  Rules don’t apply to him.  By the way, the fucker’s face is back to normal.  And he’s become some kind of patron saint
amongst
the
geeks and loners.  He’s always staring at me. 
Eeeww
! 
Wanna
get high?  I brought a couple of joints,” she suggested.

Rio
had no upcoming drug tests to pass. 
Why not
, h
e reasoned.  They st
e
pped onto the
gigantic
deck and toked up.

“So that shit has a following?  You know he lives on the same street as me?  We’re
almost
neighbors,”
Rio
said in between coughs.

“You
gonna
be good?  No surprise visits?  He’s not worth it,
Rio
.  You have a bright future.  Forget about him; he’s a nobody.  Let me change the subject.  Let’s see, the reason we don’t have any homework is because of the Haitian earthquake.  We watched coverage in every class, even in gym.  Oh, I’m sorry.  You do have homework.  Mrs.
Kinski
wants a five page paper, double-spaced, on the earthquake.  You have to include a way to help out.  For student council we’re doing a food drive next Friday.  After school we’re shipping the food to the Red Cross
.
  You’re welcome to use our food drive in your paper, like you’re part of it.”

“I will.  That should be an easy paper to write.  Been watching
about the earthquake
all week.  My parents think the Haitians are devil worshipers.  Hey, this is some good weed, Brit.  I’m stoned,”
Rio
chuckled.

“Me too.  You know what I’d like to do right now?” she asked demurely.

“No, what?  You hungry?”
Rio
asked.

“Starving.  I think I’ll start off with eating you,” she answered while undoing the drawstring
of
his sweatpants.  She dropped to her knees
and expertly performed f
e
llatio
.

So much for taking it slow
,
Rio
shuddered
in ecstasy.

Chapter
7

Jessica Novak sat in her Ford Explorer reading
a new
Christian romance.  Since the first day of high school, she waited for her son by the south entrance of Freemont High School.  Although Henry lived far enough to be bussed, she preferred to pick him up.  In her mind she was sparing him from future scuffles of bullies.  His disorder had turned her into an overprotective mother who always saw her son as the victim.  She failed to
believe
his enormous size
acted
as a deterrent.  Her husband disagreed with the way she babied him, but she knew kids were cruel.

Jessica looked at her digital clock, 2:55 p.m.  Henry should have been outside.  Three minutes later, he and another boy exited the building and appeared to be walking together. 
Instant hope filled her heart
. 
Henry had a friend
.  H
is
childhood
consisted of
play dates, playmates, classmates, and club mates, but never a real friend to hang out with. 
Oh thank you, God!
she silently prayed.
 
His new friend was
wiry
with dirty blonde hair that needed to be cut.  His clothes were
grimy and
tattered.  His t-shirt’s logo was peeling off, making it impossible to read.  Jessica rolled down the window.

“Hi.  Would you like a ride?” she asked Henry’s new friend.