Jeremy Stone (6 page)

The Troof Versus Paper Clip Heaney

I mean

I really didn't like the pressure,

didn't like it

when I knew

I HAD

to do something.

Me,

I prefer to hang back

and watch others

and let

things

happen.

I don't like

confrontation,

don't like

getting too involved,

don't like

getting

involved at all.

I

like

invisibility.

Sorry, dude,

Jenson said.

Sorry, but … you know.

Yeah, I knew.

Personally, I think Old Man told Thomas

where I would be after school,

down walking along the little creek with

the floating plastic pop bottles,

old tires, and shopping carts

thinking that someday I'd come and clean this place up,

get rid of the garbage

and help this sad little creek out.

I guess I was just standing there listening to the water

talking to me

saying,

We know you, brother.

We flow down from the hills

where some of your dead relations

reside.

I felt less alone hearing that voice

but still kept feeling sorry for the stream

and staring at a couple of

used condoms

hanging from the branches of

birch trees.

And there was Paper Clip

with two other guys I didn't know.

That's Robert and Tyler,

Jenson said. A couple of

fucks.

I was thinking about Geronimo again

'cause his people had been ambushed

and then he fought back

with the same tactic.

Jeremy Stone, right? Thomas said.

I nodded an Indian nod,

made my back straight.

Worried?

About what?

Us?

It was what you might call

kind of classic.

A scene played out

since

the beginning of

time.

Right, Old Man suddenly said,

like a bad TV show,

like the old

cowboys and Indians.

Quick, change the channel.

So I told Thomas

(and Robert and Tyler)

the troof.

Jenson says

I'm supposed to

talk with you.

Who?

Jenson.

Jenson Hayes.

Paper Clip stared at me.

Robert and Tyler (those two very ordinary

looking white boys) looked puzzled.

You know.

Can't say I do. He some asshole

friend of yours?

Not really, I said.

Not when he was alive.

Whaddaya mean?

I sighed. I didn't ask

to get involved, I admitted.

Involved in what?

This?

What THIS is

is me coming here

to beat the crap

out of you.

(Thomas

was getting his old mean self

back in focus.)

Do you hate me?

Of course I do. We all do.

(Guess this meant Tyler and

Robert—

the Tybob twins.)

Do you hate a lot of people?

I hate people who are weak.

I'll take that as a yes.

I hate people who …

I cut him off. Yeah, I said.

I know what you do to

people you think

are weak.

So?

So, I continue, Jenson says

you can't do that to anyone

ever again.

The two white boys were still puzzled.

Fuck Jenson.

You can't tell me what to do.

Of course not, I said.

You need to decide

that for yourself.

I'm only telling you

the troof.

And, yes,

it came out with

the F instead of

the Th and I felt my breath

rushing out in a warm burst

between my

lower front teeth

and

my

top lip.

What Happened After That

I couldn't see him

but I heard Jenson's voice again.

Jenson told me that someone eventually found Caitlan's stolen cell phone and a version of the text message sent to Jenson was still on it. So I repeated that information to Tommy.

He's here now,

I added

just for flair.

Hey, I was now

writing the script

and I was tired

of cowboys and Indians.

Geronimo!

I still don't know why Thomas didn't beat the crap out of me as in the original script. I don't think I fully got to him. But he was confused the way people are when you rewrite the old cliché story, especially when you bring dead people back into the mix. Old Man kept coaching, saying, You're doing just fine, Jeremy. Don't be afraid.

And I wasn't afraid.

What could he do to me?

The phone thing was getting to him, maybe.

Evidence.

Paper Clip liked to sneak around

and do his nasty work knowing

he wouldn't get caught.

What cell phone? he asked.

I don't know about any

stolen cell phone.

But Jenson had nothing on this.

And Old Man just shrugged.

So I said squat.

And that

seemed to work.

Thomas Paper Clip

gave me the finger

and threatened me

with a look.

Tybob just stood there too

like they were waiting for

Thomas to tell them

what to do.

So I decided

to walk

ever so calmly

away.

My back was

to them

and they could have

tromped me

but they didn't.

And the sad little creek

just said,

You did good.

Just keep walking

and we'll watch your back.

So I silently told the creek I would come back someday soon and haul those rusty shopping carts out of the water and clean up all the garbage.

The flowing water just laughed.

What the Water Said Next

Good work, Jeremy.

Water runs downhill.

Maybe you can teach those boys

to take that hate they have

and turn the energy into something good.

I was thinking that maybe it wasn't the

water speaking but Old Man

or maybe even Jenson Hayes

but the water (or whatever)

was reading my thoughts

and said,

Stoney,

it's all the same.

Spirit is spirit.

Well, I didn't want to argue with that

but

I didn't think this thing was over with Thomas

and I wondered how he would ambush me next time.

So what do I do now? I asked the water.

Go home

and make supper for

your mom.

She's not

feeling too good.

The Evening Meal

Yeah, my mom was pretty low. Depressed.

She was reading a book

called
A Woman's Guide to Mental Health.

Whoever wrote this book doesn't understand

the first thing about women, she said.

Who wrote it?

A man, she said.

A doctor.

He doesn't know

diddly.

Well, I knew I had to do something to try to get my mom out of her mood.

Lasagna, I said.

I'm going to make some

Lasagna.

She looked up at me

and smiled,

well,

tried to

smile.

How's school, Jeremy?

I got out the lasagna pan and

spaghetti sauce

and pasta.

I think I'm learning a little French, I said.

And psychology (although that wasn't really a school subject).

What does psychology say about depression?

I'm not sure

but maybe it happens when you feel

overwhelmed with everything.

Well, that's me.

Did you learn

how to fix it

so a person

can feel better?

I shrugged and continued to make lasagna.

They say drugs and alcohol don't work.

A little halfhearted laugh from Mom.

My son,

the genius, she said.

What else?

They say you have to stay busy, get involved

and cheer up.

Do you know if we have any mozzarella cheese?

You sound just like

your father.

Always changing the

subject to food

when he wants

to end a discussion.

Mom, can I try to call him tonight?

You want

to call your father?

How?

His cell phone.

He probably doesn't

have any minutes.

He probably doesn't

have any money

for minutes.

I knew what she meant about the minutes.

My dad could never pay regular monthly

bills for anything.

But maybe he does have some minutes, I said.

And she smiled a real smile for once.

Yeah, who knows.

Maybe he has

some minutes.

Normal

Why can't we be like normal people? my mom asked over dinner. Why can't we be like those families you see on television?

But she must have been thinking

about the old days on television

because nowadays there were

no normal people on television.

No normal families.

Just fat families and homeless families

and angry families that fought all the time.

Families with money problems and

families with really mean children.

But there were a few funny families.

Mine was not one of them.

You make good lasagna, Jeremy. You take good care of your mother. Do you know where my cigarettes got to?

I went into the living room and found them

and then handed Mom her smokes.

She took one out and stared at it again. I thought she would start talking to it like she did sometimes and maybe that would be our TV show:
Moms Talking to Tobacco
. “In this week's episode, Jeremy's mother gives a long-winded lecture to the dark god of nicotine. Rated R.”

Hah!

She didn't light it this time. The patch, she said. Maybe I'll try the patch. Thank you for making dinner. Now call your father. I don't want to talk to him. Not yet. But if he has enough minutes, tell him I want to talk to him soon. I gotta talk to him soon. Why can't we be a normal family?

Because, I said.

And I really didn't have to finish the sentence.