Revenge of the Bully (11 page)

The first thing I heard was Trevor yell, “Why is it so dark in here?”

He had a point. The lights were turned way down and one candle was lit at a small table for two. I could barely make out Fernando. He was leaning against the bar sipping a Coke in a tall glass. I decided to position myself behind the bar. If Trevor got mad about something, at least there would be a big wooden obstacle between us.

“Trevor, what could be better than candlelight?” I asked. He looked around, finally spotting me.

While I had been in the kitchen getting etiquette lessons from Weasel and Big Earl, Rishi had convinced the Boss, the Boss's mother, Cheese, and Willy to retire to the back room. That meant the cooking would be left to Weasel! I just hoped the ambiance in the restaurant would impress. Looking at Trevor, I already had my doubts.

“I can barely see,” he said.

“Darkness has its advantages,” Fernando observed.

“What does that mean?” Trevor demanded. I couldn't tell him the truth, that Josie wasn't expecting him!

“Never mind that for now,” Fernando continued. “Rishi, we don't have much time. Hook him up.”

Rishi stepped out of the darkness, walked up to Trevor, and began to stick something in his ear. Trevor flailed at him. “What are you doing? Don't touch me.”

“Don't get crazy.” Rishi laughed. “This is just a little speaker we'll keep hidden in your ear. Josie won't see it. This way, Fernando can speak into a microphone and give you pointers.”

“I don't need no pointers.”

“Now, now, everyone needs advice sometime. Keep still. I borrowed this from my uncle in the Akron Police Department.”

Even through the dim light I could see that Trevor looked a little nervous. “Where's all the people in this place? Where are the waiters?”

“I'll be your waiter this evening,” Rishi said. “The restaurant doesn't really open for another two weeks. We have certain pull with the owner.”

“Wait a minute,” Trevor snarled, “who's cooking the meal? It better not be you, Rathbone.”

You'll wish it was me
, I thought, but answered, “The chefs are in the back. A real talented pair.” I glanced at my phone. “It's almost seven o'clock.” I would know soon enough if this was going to blow up in my face.

Fernando stirred the ice in his drink. “Yes, we need to take our places. Okay, everyone, you know what to do.”

Rishi positioned himself in the front of the restaurant. Trevor took his assigned seat at the table with the candle. It was under a fake vine of purple grapes that cast a dark shadow over him. Fernando and I slid behind the kitchen door and stood peering through the crack.

At seven p.m. sharp we saw car lights shine in through the window. Moments later a car door opened and we heard Josie's voice. “Yes, Dad, I know. Yes, eight thirty. No, I won't. Yes, I'll let Rodney know that you know where he lives. Okay? What? No, I'm not going to tell him that you're an expert with a blowtorch and a chain saw.”

“Sounds like a caring father,” Fernando whispered.

“Yeah, he sounds great,” I said with a shiver. “Maybe he can give me welding lessons when he stops by with his blowtorch.”

Josie walked in through the front doors. I braced for the biggest hurdle of the night.

“Good evening, madam, may I take your coat?” Rishi asked.

“It's sixty-five degrees out. I don't have a coat. Where is everyone? Hey, don't I know you from school?”

Rishi didn't miss a beat and continued like a true professional. “The restaurant isn't officially open yet, however Rodney pulled some strings and . . .”

“That Rodney! A restaurant all to ourselves. How romantic! Where is he?”

“Well, Rodney has come down with a bad case of the shingles and a bad case of poison ivy. Somehow, the two mixed together. He's got sores all over, especially around his mouth. They're oozing and dripping pus. Very contagious. One doctor even mentioned leprosy but Rodney's got his fingers crossed . . . while he's still got fingers.”

I had told Rishi to think of a convincing excuse but this was overboard. I didn't need to be known as the king of cooties in Garrettsville.

“Ewwww,” Josie said.

“Yes, it's extremely disgusting. Anyway, Rodney is at home soaking his face.”

Josie turned to leave and whined, “My dad already pulled away.”

“That's a shame, however, there is another gentleman from school who is without a companion. Perhaps you could dine with him this evening.” Rishi pointed toward Trevor.

Josie, her eyes fighting through the dim shadows, asked, “What's that thing hanging around his neck?”

“It's called a tie, madam. I think you'll find him a rather sophisticated young man and a most pleasant dinner companion. May I show you to your seat?”

“Uh, I guess,” Josie said. “Wait a second. Is that Trevor?”

“Stand up. Tell her she looks nice,” Fernando said into the microphone.

I saw Trevor swat at his ear but he stood and said, “You look nice.”

Josie said, “Thank you. You, uh, do too.”

Trevor smiled and pushed a hand through his hair.

Rishi cut in, “Mr. Tarantola has taken the liberty of ordering you a Sprite. May I pour it?”

“I guess,” Josie said.

My eyes had become fully adjusted to the dark. As Rishi poured, I noticed that the room looked really good. With the orange candlelight glow, the paintings of Venice, Florence, and Siberia, the white tablecloths and the long wood bar, Mama's looked just as nice as Chez Pierre or any other expensive place. This could actually work, I thought.

Fernando whispered into the microphone, “Tell her it's wonderful seeing her at a fancy restaurant. That she must have class.”

“Wonder why you're at a restaurant,” Trevor said. “You must have gas.”

Josie wrinkled her nose. “I don't have gas!”

Fernando gripped the microphone and whispered into Trevor's ear, “Tell her you're nervous and you fumble your words—”

“I never fumble!” Trevor barked. “If I was still running back, you'd know it!”

Josie looked completely confused. “Uhh, okay. That was a little weird, but you
did
play great today.”

“Thanks,” Trevor said.

Fernando whispered, “Tell her you played great because she inspires you when she cheers.”

Trevor picked up his Sprite and confidently stated, “I played great because you perspire when you cheer.”

Josie's jaw dropped and she felt her armpit. Then she pulled out her cell phone. “I think I better call my dad.”

Fernando spun around to Rishi, who had joined us in the kitchen. “Get out there. Don't let her make that call.”

Rishi tore out to the table and swiped the phone out of Josie's hand.

“Hey!” Josie snapped.

“Sorry miss, we have a strict no-cell-phone policy at the restaurant. It disturbs the other diners.”

“We're the only ones in here. Give me the phone!”

Josie reached out to take it but Rishi held the phone over his head. “I'll just keep it behind the bar until after dessert.”

As he went to walk off, Trevor gabbed Rishi, lifted him off the ground, and shouted, “Give the young lady back her phone.”

Caught in Trevor's powerful grip, Rishi had no choice but to obey.

“Darn it, she's got the phone,” I whispered to Fernando.

He smirked back at me. “Don't worry. That was perfect.”

Trevor, sitting back down at the table, repeated, “That was perfect.”

“Yes, it was,” Josie agreed, now looking at Trevor in a whole new way.

Fernando covered the microphone with his hand. “Rodney, when it comes to matters of romance, you must learn to trust Fernando.”

Trevor and Josie were staring into each other's eyes. I felt like I was watching one of my mom's sappy movies.

Still covering the microphone, Fernando whispered, “We're almost there. Trevor has successfully acted the hero. Now if I can just get him to say a line correctly my work will be finished. I'll go with something simple.” He picked up the microphone. “Tell her that's a nice dress.”

“I know what to say, Fernando! Stop blabbing in my ear! I got the perfect line already.”

I smacked my forehead. Josie was now definitely going to think he was crazy, and then he'd blame me for the wire, and then I'd be marinara sauce. I crossed my fingers, hoping his line was good. I watched him lean in toward her and say, “You know, Josie, if you were a booger, I'd pick you first.”

“Did you just call me a booger?” she asked.

Fernando and I looked at each other. I was dead.

“Because if you did,” Josie continued, “I think that's hysterical.”

“You do?” Trevor asked. “I got a million booger jokes.”

Josie laughed and for the first time all evening looked completely relaxed. “You know”—she smiled—“I'm kind of happy Rodney got leprosy and you happened to be here tonight.”

I had mixed feelings when I heard that but Fernando looked pleased. He turned off the microphone. “My work is done.”

“Good,” spoke a voice in back of us. I jumped and spun around. Cheese was standing there. “If you're done, you won't mind your little friend taking a walk with me. Rodney, follow me into the office. Boss wants to see you.”

I didn't like the sound of that. What had I done wrong? I followed Cheese and soon found myself face to face with the Boss.

“I've noticed how you and Rishi and that shifty other kid operate.” He turned his computer monitor around, revealing several windows with security camera feeds of the restaurant. I hadn't been aware I was being watched all evening. “I might need a little more help opening night,” he continued. “Want to make some money and bus tables?”

I was beginning to like the idea of making money—only I knew my parents wouldn't want me working here. Not for the Boss. “Uh, sure,” I suddenly said, figuring I could ask my parents later if it was okay. “Opening night must get pretty busy and all.”

“It's not just that,” the Boss continued. “Some important friends of mine from Chicago called. They said they'd be stopping by that night. I'm going to need to host a special dinner. It has to go well, Rodney.”

“Makes sense,” I said. “I mean, after all, they're coming a long way. I guess they're excited to see the new place.”

More to himself than to me, the Boss said, “Let's hope they like it. Let's hope we make a ton of dough that night so Spats can leave happy.” He glanced up at Cheese and Willy. The three of them looked deadly serious—actually frightened.

Willy said, “We all remember what happened to Joey Cranberries.”

The Boss shook slightly. “Enough.” Then he looked at me. “Beat it.”

As I headed back to the kitchen to meet my friends, I began to worry about what I had just gotten myself into. Too bad I didn't have a little voice in my ear like Trevor telling me what to say.

But that wasn't entirely true. Something
had
told me not to agree to work for the Boss. Unfortunately, I had chosen not to listen.

Chapter 12

THE MYSTERY OF THE EVIL HEAD

Monday mornings are the worst. For me, they usually mean the start of a week spent hiding from bullies and getting yelled at by teachers. It was really bad when I lived in New York and when I first moved to Ohio. Every Sunday night I would lie awake as late as possible hoping I could keep Monday morning from arriving . . . but it always did.

Today, however, was the first Monday in my life that I actually wanted to go to school. Everything had gone great on Saturday with Trevor and Josie, but more importantly, I couldn't wait for what might happen
after
school today.

“I'll be a little late this afternoon,” I finally announced, chewing a piece of pancake. I tried to sound as casual as possible.

“Oh?” my mom asked. “Why is that?”

“Well . . .” I paused. I was embarrassed to talk about it and pushed another piece of pancake through some syrup. I felt my family's eyes on me, so I said it: “I'm going to ask Jessica if I can walk her home.”

My mom smiled over at my dad. He put down the paper, beamed back at her and actually reached for her hand.

Penny wasn't as charmed. “Jessica is not going to go out with you. I should know. I sat next to her in the car the whole way back from camp. She kept making a face like she smelled something rotten. But you know, you did smell pretty bad, Rodney. Did you shower at that camp?”

I glared at her.

“Penny,” my mom cautioned.

“What?”

“Go get cleaned up for school.”

“I'm already dr—”

“Penny?”

My sister huffed and shoved off into the other room.

My dad was still grinning. “Walking a girl home from school . . . that's quite a big step, Rodney. You want to hear about the first time I walked a girl home?”

“No,” my mom answered.

My dad shut his mouth. I was glad he didn't go any further. I was afraid he was going to start talking about how things were in his day.

“In my day,” he continued, “there were certain things you'd better do if you wanted a girl to like you.” I braced myself, ready for one of his long stories. “They're all still true today. The first thing”—he raised a finger in the air—“is to open the door for her. The second”—he raised a second finger—“is to make sure she walks on the inside of the street, away from the traffic. Do you know what the third thing is, Rodney?”

I shook my head no. Surprisingly, I actually wanted him to continue. While he wasn't exactly Fernando, my dad seemed to know what he was talking about.

“The third thing is that you must hold her books for her. Got that, Rodney?”

I nodded. “Yep, hold her books.”

My dad smiled. “Rules to live by.” Satisfied that his son had absorbed all his wisdom, he turned to his next favorite breakfast-table subject: the weather. “Looks like it's going to be a hot one today.”

My mom ignored him and said, “Rodney, I hate to remind you of this, but you have football practice after school. Jessica may not want to wait until you're finished.”

I hadn't thought of that and started to feel deflated. My dad jumped in. “Of course she'll wait. Look at him sitting there. He's a Rathbone!”

My mom stared from my father to me. “You're right, honey. He's a Rathbone, all right. With that syrup on his shirt he's the spitting image of you. Now hurry up and change, Rodney.”

“But this is the only clean short-sleeved shirt I have.”

“Just put on long sleeves . . . and hurry. You don't want to miss the bus and make Jessica walk home alone, do you?”

The idea that football practice might ruin my plans dampened my spirits slightly, but even so, my face wore a smile as I stepped up to the bus stop. I was confident Jessica would say yes, if not today, then soon. I had another reason to feel good. Trevor had left Saturday night real happy and promised that we were friends forever. For once I didn't have a potential bully waiting for me at school. I paused and breathed in the morning air. My dad was right. Even though it was autumn it felt nice and hot out, like summer.

Rishi was watching me from his tree. “You're smiling, Rodney.” He looked puzzled. “What's going on?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“It's just that you're not a morning person. You always show up staring down at the pavement, acting like your dog died, totally serious. It's my job to cheer you up. I'm like your personal cup of coffee.”

“I don't always look serious,” I said, frowning.

“I guess you're right,” he replied. “Sometimes you look like you might cry.”

“What? No I don't.”

“Sure you do.” He pulled out his phone. “Check out this picture I took of you last Wednesday.” I snatched the phone and sure enough there I was with wet eyes and downturned lips.

“That's just my allergies, and I'm deleting this photo.”

“That's fine, I already uploaded it and have hundreds more just like it.”

I sighed and handed back the phone. We both turned around at the deep sound of the bus approaching. Embarrassing pictures or not, Rishi couldn't bring me down this morning. In fact, the good feeling lasted the whole ride and was still there when we entered school. I felt lighter in my step, and, seeing Dr. Stone standing by the front door, I grinned and said in my best British accent, “Top of the morning to you.”

She smiled and said, “An exchange student, how nice. Would you like to see how we conduct detention in America?”

“No.”

She nodded and resumed staring stonily at the students arriving behind me. Even that didn't squelch my excitement, nor did seeing Kayla standing by Jessica's side. They were in front of Jessica's locker. Rishi said, “Look at them, Rodney, the best two girls in the school.”

“Uh, yeah, I agree.”
With half of it, anyway.

We headed over. “I heard about this whole walking home thing,” Kayla announced. “Unfortunately, Rodney, today's no good.” She put on a fake sad face.

“Why not?” I asked.

Jessica went to open her mouth but Kayla cut her off, as usual. “Because Jessica and I have yearbook club this afternoon. We are staying an hour after dismissal. We have to take the late bus.”

“Are you sure you have to stay an hour after school?” I asked.

“Yes,” Kayla answered.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, we're positive.”

“Well that's great,” I almost shouted. “My football practice ends an hour after school.” I glanced over Kayla's shoulder. “Jessica, would you like to meet me here at that time?”

“Okay, Rodney,” she said, smiling.

Kayla frowned, but Rishi may have caused that. He had suddenly stepped into her personal space and asked, “Maybe we could double date?”

“Ewww!” Kayla made a gagging face and stomped off, but not before shouting, “Just the thought gives me diarrhea!”

Rishi grabbed my shirt excitedly. “Did you see that, Rodney? I am close to winning her heart.”

“Uh, well, you
did
seem to have an effect on her,” I said in support.

“So I'll see you after school?” Jessica asked, ignoring my crazy friend.

I smiled and gave her a big nod.

That smile stayed on my face all day. It was there when I got on line to buy lunch and Trevor announced to the crowd, “Sorry everyone, but my man Rathbone goes straight to the front!” I'd felt a little bad about cutting thirty students, but “my man Rathbone” had a nice ring to it. By afternoon, in Spanish class, I actually got a cramp in my cheek from smiling so much. Ms. Noabla criticized my pronunciation—but I just smiled. How could Rishi say I walked around like I was about to cry? Even after football practice the smile was still there! I headed down the long empty corridor toward Jessica's locker. As I turned a corner, I noticed the light from the front glass doors reflected off the shiny floor. It was interrupted by the shadow of a solitary figure. My smile widened still further.

“I was waiting for a couple of minutes,” Jessica called out to me. Her voice sounded playful. As I got closer she asked, “What's wrong with your face?”

“Nothing,” I answered.

“I guess I never saw you smile before,” she teased.

Great. Now she was saying it. I was about to come back with a joke when I noticed her reaching down to lift her backpack from the floor. My dad's rules went through my mind. “May I carry that?” I asked.

“Sure, thanks.”

“No prob-lemmmm.” My answer came out strained instead of smooth. What did she have in there, a pile of bricks? Lead bars? I went to swing it over my shoulder and fell back into the lockers. In my dad's day, I don't think girls carried so many books! Combined with my own backpack it felt like I had a safe tied to my shoulders. Fortunately, Jessica had started moving down the hall and didn't notice me thrashing about. I saw that she was at the front doors. I had to hold them open for her! I sprinted down the hall and yanked. In my eagerness, I pulled the door too hard and she nearly got bashed in the face. This date was going great so far.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I wanted to hold the door for you.”

“That's very nice of you. Just be careful next time. I like my nose the way it is.”

“It's a beautiful nose,” I gushed. “I mean, I'll do my best.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned and we headed outside.

Jessica lived about a mile from the school, which I thought was perfect, since it would give me a lot of time with her. Now that I was hauling five hundred pounds on my back, I wasn't so sure. Plus I had changed into a long-sleeved flannel shirt in the morning. The afternoon sun was super hot and beads of sweat began to roll down my forehead into my eyes. “This is nice,” I managed.

“It
is
nice,” Jessica agreed. “Hey, did you know Rishi joined the yearbook committee?”

It didn't take a genius to figure out why. “No,” I said, adjusting the weight of the backpacks. “He never mentioned anything about it.”

“Well, he showed up today with a full portfolio of photos he printed out. Mr. Witlacker, who's the adviser, loved his pictures and made him the head photographer. He seems really interested in photography.”

“That's not the only thing he's interested in,” I said, wiping some sweat from my forehead.

Jessica laughed. “I think it might be good for Kayla. All summer she whined about Dave. She was real upset when he told her he didn't like her.” I'd forgotten that Kayla had liked my friend Dave last year. “Anyway,” Jessica continued, “today Rishi sat down next to her and kept showing her pictures. She wasn't interested and told him to go away, but then she found ones she liked.”

I smiled. “Oh yeah? What did Kayla like?”

“She liked the ones of you.”

“Of me? I find that hard to believe.” I was trying to have a normal conversation as we walked along but my eyes had begun to sting and the world was getting blurry.

“Well, she didn't care much for all the ones
he
showed her . . . ones of you playing football, but then she took his portfolio into her own hands and found ones she did like. Like the ones of you crying.”

“What? That was allergies!” I yelled, wiping sweat from my face. I was praying Jessica didn't look over at my watery, stinging eyes. Anyway, it could have been worse with the pictures. At least Kayla didn't find the one of . . .

“Kayla's favorite was the one of you in a dress. She really loved that.”

“I bet,” I said, trying to laugh.
Wait until I get my hands on Rishi . . .

Jessica must have sensed my thoughts. “Rishi didn't mean it. She stole it from him. Besides, the two of them seemed to have a lot of fun, and I thought you looked good. Pink is your color.”

“I'm glad they found something in common.” It was hard to get mad or stay embarrassed with Jessica by my side, but suddenly something felt wrong. My chicken senses tingled. I spun around and looked back down the block. All I could make out were houses and empty yards.