Date: Sun, 15 Jun 2008 14:02:54 -0700 From: Danny Subject: Simon's Journal: Thirteen Days, Chapter 8 of 13 Simon's Journal Volume I Thirteen Days - The First Crusade A novel by Danny Chapter 8 February 23, 2004 Monday Monday morning was, for the most part, a blur. I don't even remember eating breakfast. I do, however, remember waking up in my own bed this morning and having to lie there for a while to try and figure out how I got there. The last thing I recall was leaving the doctor's office yesterday evening and then waking up in bed this morning. Dad told me, while I sat at the table, that I zonked right out in the van. He had to carry me to my room and put me to bed. I guess it was such a long stressful weekend that it all just finally caught up with me. Funny how I can remember sitting at the table but I don't remember eating. I kind of remember feeling funny that neither dad nor mom seemed upset this morning. All weekend it was like walking on egg shells in our house but today it was like nothing had happened. Maybe they were feeling so guilty for letting me suffer in my room all weekend with my eye looking the way it did. I considered how they would have reacted had they seen it before Jamie's mom cleaned it up for me. I bet I could have asked for my own car and got it! They also were not asking me about the meet today and I was so glad of that. I guess the events of the weekend had pushed it out of their minds and I was so very grateful! At least one thing good came out all my pain. Okay, more then one good thing came out of it but just now, I'm focusing on today and today only. There is one thing though that disturbs me; when I was coming back from taking my morning shower like so many other mornings, I carried my wet Goodnite from the bathroom to dispose of it in the trashcan inside my bedroom door; however, there was already one in there and since I had worn a real diaper the night and day before and I'd slept over at Mike and Tater's house the night before that, so the last time I'd put a wet Goodnite in it would have been Friday morning before school, There was no way mom would have left a wet Goodnight in my room over the weekend. I mean that would be unheard of! The only logical thought I was able to come up with - and I was this morning and still am too scared or maybe just too embarrassed to ask - is when dad carried me in last night, I must have already wet in the van and dad must have changed me before tucking me in. I still find it hard to believe that I could have slept through something like that, but it's the only explanation I have right now. I suppose it is entirely possible that I got up in the middle of the night and put on a dry Goodnite, but I think I would have remembered doing that, I mean I've always remembered doing it in the past. Once I got to school all I could think about all morning was that race. How was I going to get past the Coach without having him see my eye? And what if Jasper decides to tell him? I am sure that the coach won't let me run with my eye like it is. Peter and the guys showed up at the house this morning just as they had done last Friday. Against my mothers objections dad eventually gave in and let me ride my bike to school with the guys. I can't believe how much of a help Peter and the guys were in smuggling me into the school this morning without Mr. Freeman, Mr. Graff or any teachers at all seeing me. I'd explained to Peter my need to be covert and try to lay low this morning and I guess I found an area that they were quiet strong in. Deception! They showed up just as I was leaving my first two classes and escorting me on to the next. Surrounded by Peter and the others no one dared to come near me. Sure, kids were still saying hi as we walked the halls but they wouldn't come too close. I'm also sure that the condition of my eye had started more rumors but I've not heard any of them yet. Surprisingly, with the butterfly bandages and the obvious condition of my eye, I'd gotten away with wearing the sunglasses through my first two classes. Both teachers looked right at me and then looked away without saying a single word to me. I'd also not been called on for any questions. I was doing my best to keep a low profile and it was working. Oh sure, I went with the flow. I mean, I smiled, but I never put my hand up, I still took notes, and did whatever was required. As the day wore on I became more and more focused on the meet today and less on school. As I sat in Social Studies class I didn't hear a word and as I was leaving English class, Mary Tucker said to me, "Good Luck in the race!" "Thanks, Mary!" I said, missing her beautiful smile this time. I was amazed that she knew I was going to the meet today. Finally my study hall period arrived and I reported to the library, escorted by my four bodyguards, to begin my punishment for fighting last week. But it was hopeless to think I could concentrate on the first report for Mr. Freeman and I spent the entire period worrying about the meet. I hardly touched my lunch, which didn't bother the guys as they all helped me clear my tray one stolen bite after another. My morning finally ended and still escorted by my protectors, I headed for the gym were I put on my gym clothes followed by the orange jacket. I followed the group of guys outside and onto the sidewalk; it was drizzly, which only helped to explain my reason for wearing the hooded jacket. Most of the guys had pulled their shirts or jackets up over their heads to fend off the slight rain. "What a gritty gray day!" I heard someone say and then realized it was me that had said it. When the school bus pulled up we piled on and I took a seat in the middle of the bus. Most of the older kids piled in the rear seats while the younger and far more nervous kids sat toward the front of the bus. I was very relieved when one of the older boys sat down next to me, turned so that his back was toward me and struck up a conversation with two boys across the center isle. We road all the way into South Side and on the way there, everybody on the bus were kind of bouncing, laughing and telling dirty jokes. I couldn't imagine how they could be so relaxed. I didn't listen to the jokes and tried to focus on being invisible. A few times I dared to look up toward the front of the bus and would see Jasper sneaking a watchful glance my way. He looked almost as on edge as I was feeling. We got in to South Side and I filed off the bus with everyone else. It was so ... so miserable, all the drizzle and grayness. There were about five other buses all lined up in front of this place they call The Abby and it was enormous. When we went in, it was like a factory but it had a low ceiling and filthy black windows. I could smell all these smells; rubbing alcohol and oil of wintergreen and I guess sweat. Then I realized it was cigarette smoke I smelled all over the place. I looked and they had these stands, just six stands high for maybe a hundred parents and well a lot of them were smoking. Even the officials in there white and black striped shirts were smoking. "Why'd they let them smoke?" I asked to no one in particular. They had a quarter mile track; I know this because I heard one of the other boys say that is what it was. It was an older track and in the interior of the track there must have been fifty or sixty athletes, they were all warming up. Shot putters, broad jumpers and I just stood there until Frank Smite came over, a seventh-grader on the Varsity Squad. Not a good runner, but very nice. He said, "Come on, you've got to loosen up! Loosen up, come on, shake your arms." He puckered his lips and blew, "Brubrubrubrrrrrrrrrrruuu!" "Was that supposed to do something for you?" I thought and did it too while pulling my hood down over my face more. "Come on - Come on - Come on - Come on! Loose up, man! Bend over! Come on, bend over - bend over - bend over!" Frank said. I bent over and touch my toes and I kept thinking, "Why am I here?" I could barely stand up! Frank said, "Come on! We'll trot around once, quarter mile; easy-easy-easy-easy-easy!" I started to run with Frank and my hood was bouncing and dancing on my head. He said, "Now how do you feel?" What I wanted to do is say, "Frank, I feel dreadful! I have a lightness Frank, driving me mad in my arms and my chest, I think I'm going to black out." But what I did say was, "I feel great! I feel really great, Frank!" "Wait a minute, stop!" Frank put a hand up to my arm and for half a second I thought he had seen my eye but then he said, "Look at Cody run, look at the stride on Cody from Roosevelt! They call him Lord Cody! Look at that!" Frank was enraptured, "He sets a record every time out; he's in your race!" "That's great. That's great Frank; that's great." I was having trouble getting my breath, "Wait a minute? My race? How do you know that's my race?" I sounded like I was panicking because I was. I wanted so badly to be here and now that I'm here I just want to go home. Who was I to think I could ever complete on the level of all those other boys? "Stop!" he grabbed my arm tightly this time. "Look at that! Melvin Morly, Shawn Preston, Zack Houston - 4/40 - everybody say they could go to the Junior Olympics!" Everybody there was a god or an enemy. I said, "You go ahead." I just couldn't run! Just breathing hurt my chest; I felt so terrible, so nervous. An hour and an a half of watching others run, jump, throw and a dozen other events and all I could do was pace and finally I could hear, "Fifteen minutes to the mile please - fifteen minutes to the mile!" We had to line up and everyone started getting paper numbers on their backs. Jasper came over with my number and I finally had to loose my disguise. I handed him the glasses and jacket after he pinned the number to the back of my oversized gym shirt. "How do I look?" I asked subconsciously tucking my shirt into my shorts. "Like you are going to barf!" he said. "Yeah that would be just about right!" I said. "Ten Minutes to the mile please - ten minutes to the mile!" "Five Minutes to the mile please - five minutes to the mile!" Finally we lined up. I got way in the front right behind Lord Cody; Jasper came and put me way in the back. I was keeping my head down, my chin buried in my chest but I hazard a glance over and saw that coach had his back to me animatedly talking with two other boys; they were both holding what looked like spears. I looked behind me and there was only one kid way in the back, he was from Medshire, Green and white. I looked at him; he was a great big kid, maybe six-three with those wonderful lean muscles and curly black hair. He bent way over and put his right hand on his right knee and his left hand on the right hand. I did the same thing. "I've never run a race before. Have you run many?" I talked right to him but he didn't pay any attention; he didn't even turn his head. I just wanted him to look at me. Then we looked up and there was the official. He had a black and white striped baseball cap and a black and white striped jacket over his black and white stripped shirt and black shiny shorts that looked to be about two sizes too small for him and left almost nothing to the imagination. I remember talking to myself, "Simon, what you are doing? Get your mind on the race! The race - yes the race, the race." "Everybody, Everybody okay here we go!" the official announced through a megaphone. I was so glad he didn't look right at me. "Everybody, Everybody alright-alright!" he announced again. "Now fellows," he continued, "I'm going to give you two verbal commands! All right? Then the gun!" He lifted his right arm. "It's going to be, 'On your mark'!" And then he lifted his left arm. "'Get set!' And then the gun!" "Alright, here we are." He paused for a second. "ON YOUR MARK!" his right arm went up. "GET SET!" he kept looking around. "Why doesn't he shoot the gun?" I remember thinking. BANG! I started running just as hard as I could possibly run! I was running hard as I could just to stay up! Everybody was sprinting and I remember thinking that maybe I was in the wrong race. Somehow Melvin Morly was already up around the banked curve and already there were six guys behind him. I was just trying to keep up to Melvin, I didn't want to be the last one in this race, and I didn't want to be all alone. I got around the banked curve and started down the straightaway and I never felt such a pain in my chest it was so much worse then the night before ever was. I knew I wasn't breathing properly. I knew I was breathing from my neck but I couldn't do anything about it! It just hurt so much and I realized I was going to have to quite; I was going to have to give up the race right then! I wasn't going to run even a quarter mile! I thought maybe if I could get down to the bank turn maybe I could make just a quarter mile but it hurt so much! I just kept thinking, "Get to the bank turn, Get to the bank turn!" Somehow I made it down to the bank turn! I got around that turn and there were only seventy yards to go and I would have finished a quarter mile. I was running and all of a sudden out of nowhere, "Go Simon! Atta-baby! You can do it Simon! Go for it! Go! Go! Go!" It was Jasper shouting from somewhere. I turned and saw his face, only for a split second and realized, you see, in a different way his face kind of blurred as sweat got into my one good eye. It stung and I squinted to try to see again and all I could really see was elbows- elbows; Melvin's elbows going back and forth and his number. I kept going while hearing my name "Simon" and my name seemed to explode inside of me. I made it a quarter mile. There was the official with the green cap; he stuck three fingers in the air and did a kind of dance that reminded me of a little kid that had to go poop. "THREEEEE! THREE LAPS TO GO! THREE LAPS TO GOOOO!" and I thought he looked right at me but he didn't seem to react to my deformed and bruised face. "Three laps?" I thought to myself. It felt like I had been running five hours, "Three laps to go" I kept repeating to myself. I gasped and tried to swallow my throat was so dry but there was no spit in my mouth to swallow. I kept going thinking I will do a half a mile. I got around the bank turn; as I went around it I realized what I had been hearing. Everyone that went around that turn and they made the most wonderful sound, "Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump- Thump" Everyone had these wonderful white track shoes, low track shoes and the bottom looked like a pink eraser - everyone except me. I had size nine old sneakers that were falling apart, "Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop" I felt like such a fool running around that track; I thought the whole place would be laughing at me. I started down the straightaway and I had never felt such a jagged pain right across my whole chest down into my stomach. "OH, THAT SMOKE!" I was so angry that the people were smoking in here. I looked across and already Melvin had finished half a mile already. There were six kids behind him maybe seven kids. And all of a sudden one of them, he was wearing red from Lexington. He jumped into the interior; he quit the race. "Good for Lexington!" I thought, "If he quit, I could quit!" I got around that bank turn again and I had only seventy yards to go and there was the coach; he was way down there waving his arms. This was the sign; the sign he had told us all to look for if he wanted us to drop out of a race. His arms went back and forth and I was so glad to see that! I was going to quit after a half a mile. I got within twenty yards of the half-mile and all of a sudden Jasper, he was in the interior running along, "Atta-baby, atta-baby! Come on, Simon, shake those arms out! Stretch-it, just a little bit, come on you're all right! Relax, relax - you're alright." He ran along maybe thirty yards and I realized I ran by the quitting place! I was going to keep going now. "JASPER!" I was so angry with him! I was going to do three-quarters of a mile and all I could think about was busting through the backdoor of our home and telling mom and dad that I'd ran three-quarters of a mile. I went around that bank turn for the third time, "Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop-Flop" As I started down the straightaway Melvin was way ahead but he turned his head and look at me. Just looking at me encouraged me; I was scaring him! So I ran as hard as I could, which wasn't very hard, but I closed the gap just a little. We got down to the other bank turn and now, when I made it around that, there were only seventy yards more to go and Melvin he wasn't just slowing he was wobbling badly! I thought he was going to quit and jump into the interior but suddenly he fell right across the track. I was way up high to avoid him but not high enough, I jumped right over his head and I would have been fine except I was in the bank turn; I twisted my ankle, came down on my knee and right down on my face which bounced right off of the track. I heard someone groan and realized it was me. I stood up, I just stood there and wiped at my face. There was blood, a lot of blood and I knew my eye had busted open again. There was blood all over the yellow shirt the one that coach had given me and I hated myself for bleeding on it. I took a deep breath and was about to take a step toward the interior and this great big black kid - his skin was so dark; he was standing there looking at me holding one of those spears and I remembered it was called a javelin, he was smiling and looking serious at the same time. "Hey Sneekers! Don't let that stop you!" he shouted and pointed down the track as if I'd forgotten which way I was supposed to be running. "No! No, that's not going to stop me!" I heard myself mumble back to him as I started running again; seventy more yard and there was like a hundred people in the stands cheering for me. I felt like a hero - all the blood all over. I felt great, they were cheering like mad and going crazy. I got within twenty yards of doing three-quarters of a mile and Melvin blew by me - Woooooooshhhh - four kids behind him, they were cheering for Melvin, they were cheering for Melvin and the others, they didn't even see me; I was invisible. All the times in my life that I have wished to be invisible and now my wish was coming true? Well, I finished three-quarters of a mile; I was just quitting when someone slammed the big red exit gate shut; I looked up and for a spit second I saw Jasper's face. "He closed the gate?" I screamed inside my head and I could feel the rage in the upper part of my back; I could feel the spot! "You're going to finish the race!" I looked over my left shoulder, sweat was stinking my good eye and blood was poring from my bad eye. Through the sweat and blood I saw that Jasper was pacing me again, "You're going to finish the race! I started to stretch my legs and I could hear the coach from somewhere in the interior shouting, "That's enough now, that's enough!" and I could hear Jasper, "GO SIMON BABY-GO-GO-GO!" "I'm going to finish the race!" I kept telling myself. I started to stretch my arms and my legs and I could feel this power from my back. It was spreading down my torso and I could feel it spreading down my thighs, down my legs, right into my feet and I could also feel it right up into my shoulders. My shoulders were so powerful! I never felt such strength in my whole life. I went around that bank turn, I went around it and now my legs, they felt like horses legs and my arms they are iron but they were light as wings - I never felt such a power. I started down the straightaway and there was another voice inside of me, "You've got to slow down. You don't have the wind. You're only at a practice, it doesn't really matter." "I'm going to finish!" I told the voice, "I'm going to finish the race!" My stride must have been twice the stride and my breath was coming from way down deep. "I'm going to finish the race! I'm going to finish the race!" I kept saying. And I could hear that javelin kid yelling at me from all the way across the interior, "GO-GO-GO SNEEKERS GO SNEEKERS GO-GO-GO!" He wasn't even from my school and he was cheering me on! I looked over my shoulder again and he had dropped his javelin and was running side by side with Jasper. They were both pacing me now, "GO-GO SNEEKERS!" he shouted again and Jasper yelled, "GO BABY GO!" "I'm going to finish the race!" I said to myself. "Ah this power!" I thought. I got down to the bank turn and I was thinking, "If I can just get around it!" but I started to wobble. I just didn't think I could keep my feet, I didn't have any more wind, but somehow I made it around the bank turn. I couldn't hear Jasper or the big black kid anymore. Even the people in the stands were gone from my ears. I looked up and this time everyone in the stands are standing and applauding and some of them seem to be looking right at me and waving me on but I couldn't hear them. I knew - I just knew I was going to finish the race! "I'm going to finish! I'm going to finish! I'm going to finish!" I got within twenty yards of the end and I had no wind. It was as if my spirit had leapt out of my body and jumped right over the finish line and was cheering for me, "COME ON SIMON YOU CAN DO IT! COME ON-COME ON-COME ON!" and somehow my feet got me over the finish line and I stopped dead. Jasper and the black kid were right beside me now. One of them touched me, "Get y'r arm off; don't touch me!" I puffed. "No keep moving!" one of them said, I don't know which. "I'm sorry!" Gasp, "I should have" Gasp, "kept moving!" Gasp. I knew just what he'd meant; I should never have stopped dead like that. I thought my heart was going to crash right through my chest. The next twenty yards or so Jasper and the javelin boy were right there with me helping to hold me up, I trotting as slow as I could. I just couldn't get my breath and I looked into the interior and there was Melvin sitting in there, he looked so sad and I went over to him gasping and panting. "Hey Melvin" Gasp, "Thanks" Gasp, "Thanks a lot!" Gasp. I shook his hand and he said, "I shouldn't have run, I've been sick for two weeks!" "Melvin I'm glad you ran," Gasp "I never would have finished this race!" Gasp, I managed to say, "Thank you Melvin!" Gasp, Gasp. I went over to the side with Jasper and the other boy to try and get my breath. The big black boy patted my soaked back and said, "Never seen anything like you!" I gave him a thankful wave and went trotting off into the interior again. I was bent over, hands on my knees, jasper had a towel held to my face and I saw these two pristinely white shoes. I looked up into the face of this incredibly hansom boy, who took my hand and said, "That was beautiful! That last quarter was terrific! You can run!" he shook my hand and added, "I look forward to your next race!" He walked off and I noticed it was Cody, Lord Cody! "You were good too Cody, you were good too!" I returned the complement despite the fact that I'd not seen him at all in the race, he must have been so far ahead of me that he finished long before I did. Aside from his hair being a little damp he didn't look tired or winded at all. The coach came over and I turned my head so that I could see Jasper past the towel which he was still holding to my face and for a quick second he looked as panicked as I was feeling. I knew the coach was going to start chewing us both out but instead he said, "You are the best natural runner I've ever seen in my life!" I don't know where I found the breath to say back to him, "Thank you coach, I should have stopped after the half mile. I-I got to go outside and get a little air!" I took hold of the towel from Jasper and left the two of them talking as I staggered over and pushed open the big grey metal exit door, but I didn't get out because Frank and my best friend BJ, who I hadn't seen all last week at school were coming over to me. BJ came up to me and gave me a jab and the freckles exploded off his face, "Beautiful-man, that race was beautiful, with them sneakers, too!" "Tremendous!" Frank added. "Thanks guys!" I said, "I got to get some air!" I went outside and I couldn't believe it that BJ was there. I wondered to myself how he knew I was going to be running today since I'd not told him. I was out in the parking lot, the drizzle was still coming down and I was so glad. And I could smell, smells; and I could actually hear the rain falling, not the sound that it makes when it hits the ground, anyone can hear that. No I was hearing the rain while it was falling, it kind of whistled as it fell. Everything was so sharp! I felt so wonderful! I had my arms way out allowing more of the drizzle to hit and cool me. The only thing that could have made it better was if the sun would just peek out from behind a cloud even if only for a couple seconds, but it was still so gray and I loved it, I was just so hot; I needed the drizzle. I just stood there, arms reaching to the heavens; oh it was so cooling inside and out. I knelt down and thought about all the guys that before the race I'd thought of them as enemies but they were just guys - just other guys and they were all great! I couldn't wait to get home and tell mom and dad! I got up and went back in just in time to see the big black kid again. "Hey, thanks so much for what you did!" I said to him. "You were amazing! It was great to see you run!" he said and shook my hand. I wish I'd had the sense to ask him his name. I didn't even notice what colors he was wearing so I didn't know what school he was with, but it didn't matter really. We were not all enemies today; we were all here to do what we all do best! I felt so good, I felt so alive! Coach found me and sent me over to get my eye taken care of. It had stopped bleeding again and my shirt and shorts looked like a crime scene, but I really didn't care right then. On the bus ride back I didn't have to wear the orange jacket with the hood and the glasses. Almost every kid came up to me, "Hey, man-that last quarter; Whoa! Beautiful!" I've never felt so at ease and happy in my life! Everybody was laughing and carrying on. We got back to the school and everyone filed into the gymnasium and down into the locker room to shower and change. I went and took a cold shower. I didn't even turn on the hot water. I just let it pour down over my face; a lot of other boys were doing the same thing. The water felt so incredible and only furthered my electrified energy levels. I got back into my school uniform which seemed kind of silly since there was only ten minutes left in the school day. Most of the boys were not tying their ties so I didn't tie mine, either; I just let it hang around my neck. I still can't believe we had only been gone a few hours; it seemed like so much longer! On my way out of the gym I heard someone calling my name; it was Jasper. He walked out of the gym and down to my locker with me. All the way there, other boys were shouting and cheering at me in the halls. Despite the pain I was feeling in my eye now, I couldn't help but to smile. On the way out the door we ran into Peter and the others. Jasper surprised me and didn't freeze up like he usually does, but then I realized it was because Bull's car was sitting out in front with Bull, Runt, Tater and two other huge brutes in it. Jasper turned to me, "Wanna ride?" he asked. "Nah, I got my bike but call me later?" I said. He smiled, slung his book bag over his shoulder and said, "Will do!" before running off to the car. I waved at the guys and I guessed that Jasper told them I was going to ride my bike with Peter's gang. Tater stuck his fist out the window and gave me the thumbs up sign, I returned it, he smiled, waved and the car sped away. It was still drizzling out, but I didn't care. Peter and all three of the other guys all looked sort of weirded out by the close encounter with the Panthers. I just thought it was funny and told them so. "How's the eye?" Steven asked about half way to my house. "Oh it's cool!" I lied. It was starting to throb again, but I wasn't really allowing it to bother me too much. "How the meet go?" Peter asked. "Great - I ran the mile!" I beamed. When we were about to turn onto my street Johnny, Steven and Max said their goodbyes, as they didn't want to have to walk their bikes up my hill. Peter on the other hand continued up with me. Once the other three had road off he spoke up, "Simon? Can I ask you something?" "What?" I answered not realizing how serious Peter was trying to be. "You been hanging out with Mike right?" he asked sort of quiet like. I stopped pushing my bike and turned around to face him. His hair was all matted down from the drizzle that was beginning to turn to a light rain. He had a look in his eyes that I'd never in a million years had expected to see from him. He looked heartbroken. "Yeah, why?" I asked. "Well, he and I been friends for a long time but, ever since, well last week he won't even talk to me!" he said and I could have sworn I heard his voice give a little. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other before saying to him, "Let's think about that? Mikes brother is Tater who is not only friends with but also teammates with the guy who's little brother you were trying to beat up! I can't imagine why he might not want to be your friend anymore!" I said mockingly. It was a bad thing that it was raining because I couldn't tell if Peter was crying but his eyes sure looked like it to me and I think that was when it dawned on me that we were having a real moment here and for the first time I was seeing past the tough guy and right into the core of the real boy! "You want to come over for a while? At least until the rain lets up some?" I asked and I think he might have smiled. I parked my bike in the garage and helped him put his on the back porch out of dad's way when he got home, which would be any second really. We stepped into the backdoor and mom was right there, she must have seen us both coming and was ready for us. "Stop right there, the both of you!" we both stopped just inside the door. I'm sure it was another one of those Kodak moments to see big Peter and little me standing there nearly drenched to the bone. "Mom I ran the Mile today!" I shouted completely ignoring her command. She gave me a puzzled look, "I ran the mile - at the try-outs meet!" I said, trying to jog her memory. "Your coach let you run with your eye ..." she stopped when she saw how swollen it was again and she looked at Peter. I didn't get it right away but she was thinking that Peter had hit me. Peter had both hands up in front of him, "No Way! Not me!" he said and that was when I got it. I laughed! "No mom! I fell in my third lap. It was bad but there was a medic there at the meet and he fixed me right up." She was looking very concerned still. "It looks worse then it feels mom! Really!" "Were you there?" she asked Peter. "No Mrs. Leonard, I was in school." I looked over at Peter totally astonished at what he'd just said. Well, not what he said, but how he said it. He sounded so polite and well, not like Peter at all! I think his politeness shocked mom too, because she seemed to change her tune, "Well, you need to go find someplace to sit down, I will bring you some ice and your ointment." I started to move but she put out a hand as if to tell us not to move, "You boys can't go tromping through my house with those wet clothes on!" She held out two towels to us and said, "Strip!" to which Peters' facial reaction was identical to mine. "I'll put your clothes in the dryer Peter, in the mean time you boys can wait in Simon's room." Mom said. I looked over at Peter who was in the process of changing from a deep brick red to a nice shade of plum. He got the goofiest look on his face and I had to elbow him in the ribs or I was sure he was going to pass out. "It's just my mom!" I said to him, which only seemed to increase his embarrassment. "Oh, for the love of Pete!" Mom said and I busted out laughing. Peter was looking at my mom like he was about to die of embarrassment. It was painful for me to look at Peter standing there because it just made me laugh more. "Leave your clothes there by the door, cover yourselves with the towel and then you can go to Simon's room to wait!" she said smiling at Peter's obvious discomfort with the idea of undressing in front of my mom. Peter somehow found his voice and said, "I-I better get home!" his voice was cracking and popping all over the place. Right on cue as if I had my own special effects technician on staff there was a flash behind us and then came a huge clap of thunder. I let out a squeal and all three of us jumped. I'd turned to look outside and caught a glimpse of Peter who had, that quickly, gone from plum- red with embarrassment to as white as a sheet with fear. He too had turned toward the sliding door but had backed right up to my mom. "You alright?" Mom asked him. "I-I-I d-d-don't l-like th-thunder!" he was shaking and stuttering worse then I used to do when I was younger. He had a death grip hold on the towel with both hands and was holding it tightly to his chest sort of like it was a shield that was going to protect him from the thunder. Around here, during the end of February, it is not uncommon for it to snow one day, be sunny the next and then rain the next and it's even been known to do all three in the same day, but it's not common for us to have a thunder and lightning storm. Those don't usually start until the end of spring and beginning of summer. I turned back around as mom said, "Well, that settles it; I'm not sending you out in this sort of weather. You'll just have to stay here until it stops or I'll have Simon's father drive you home." And with that she left us standing there dripping onto the tile floor. I gave Peter a nudge and he started to take off his coat, but he had his eye plastered on the rain outside the door. I was down to my socks and underwear before he had his shirt unbuttoned. I stripped all the way down to my underwear and eventually he did, too. We both wrapped the towels around ourselves; I only did it to make him feel more at ease, I mean it's nothing for me to run around the house in a wet Goodnite, having on wet underwear isn't much more of a leap for me. We left everything lying there on the tile floor and I said, "You want to call your parent first?" "Nah, they won't care!" he said looking down at me. "Okay!" I said letting the subject drop. We picked up our bags and he followed me to my room where I closed my door for his comfort. He looked as though he felt very out of place and uncomfortable. I pulled out my desk chair and said, "Have a seat." That was when I noticed my computer was back, and so was my radio! I'd not noticed them this morning but now that I see them I realize that dad must have brought them back in last night after he had carried me in from the van and had put me to bed. Peter walked over slowly gazing around my room, "Man Simon you are seriously hooked up here!" he said. "Huh?" I said. "Your room! It's really bang'n!" he added. "Oh ah thanks!" I said and then thought to myself, "bang'n?" I started for my closet, "I might have a pair of sweat pants that will fit you." I slid open my closet door and found the light blue sweat pants hanging almost all the way to the back. "Here ya go! I hardly wear 'em." I thought about adding, "because I usually wear underwear or just a Goodnite around the house." but I chose to keep that last part to myself. With none of his hesitation or embarrassment from earlier he stood up, let the towel drop to the floor and pulled off his underwear. I was astonished to see that despite his large upper frame and being older then me, his penis, though completely soft and dangling free, was not much larger then my own. However, he did have a very ample amount of pubic hair and his legs were also covered in a fine dark layer of hair. Not wanting to be caught looking at his package, I turned back into the closet to get myself something to wear. I pulled out my cargos again - after all they are my favorite pants! I kept my back to him as I dropped my towel and underwear and stepped into my pants. It felt funny wearing them without any underwear but it also felt kind of sexy, too. When I turned back around Peter had put on the light blue sweat pants, but it was ridiculously obvious that they were only just fitting him. They looked more like someone had just painted him light blue from the waist down to just below the half way point of his calves. I know I shouldn't have, but I just couldn't help but to start laughing, "Oh yeah, you look smashing!" To my immense relief he looked up at me and smiled, "Bit on the snug side don't ya think?" "Just a bit!" I laughed. "I wouldn't try bending or doing any calisthenics in those," I added. "Yeah, I'm liable to come out all over the place!" he said rubbing his hands on his thighs. He had a bit of a roll for a tummy which was nicely accentuated by my sweatpants but I've no room to pick on others physical appearance give the fact that I currently look like Quasimodo's long lost brother. There was a knock at my door and when I opened it, it was mom with the cream and fresh bandages for my eye. She stepped into my room and looked to Peter, I looked, too, and he had quickly sat himself down on the chair and had the towel over his lap. His cheeks and ears were turning red again and mom was keen to not torture him anymore then he already was himself. I sat down on the corner of Jamie's bed holding the little bag of ice mom had just handed me while she removed the now wet bandage the medic had applied at the meet. She softly wiped my eye with a cool cloth before applying the cream, which made me squeal and made Peter say, "Oh man that stuff reeks!" "You should be the one wearing it!" I grumbled and had to hold my breath to keep from blowing chunks. Mom was finishing up by putting on fresh butterfly bandages when she asked, "So how did you do it this time?" "I had to jump over another runner that had fallen and when I came down I turned my ankle and fell on my face." I said. As I was telling mom I heard Peter suck in air and say, "Oooh! That must have hurt!" "You know, now that I think about it, it really didn't hurt as much as I thought it should" I said putting the ice on my eye. "You must have been too pumped up to feel it! I mean, just look at your ankle!" Peter said. And I looked down at my left ankle to see that it was a little swollen. However, what Peter had been pointing to was the decolonization. It had turned a sort of greenish yellow color right under my anklebone. "Well, that doesn't look so good." I said looking back up to Peter who was grimacing at my ankle. "Uhoh!" mom said, "I'll get some ice for that, too! That's going to hurt come tomorrow!" When mom left I looked over at Peter who was busying himself with making sure his towel covered as much of his lap as possible without being so flat that it too showed certain aspects of his body. "Peter, can I tell you something?" I said kind of quietly since mom had left my door open. He looked up from his towel, "Yeah, sure!" "This is a complement but it might not sound like it at first." I said and he screwed up his face in anticipation. "At school and out in public you can be a real jerk!" I said. "Uh, Thanks?" Peter said mockingly. "Now wait for it!" I said with a smile, "But really, I mean like right now and the way you are so nice to my mom, you can really be a nice guy." I was so very relieved to see him smile and blush a little again. I thought he might be about to say something when mom came back in with the ice for my foot. I got up off of Jamie's bed and went over to my bed where I settled myself so that my back was against the wall and my feet were just on the bed from the side. Mom set the ice on my ankle and then as I was putting the ice back up to my eye she asked, "Would you boys like something to eat?" "Yeah!" I said realizing that I was quite hungry. "I have some peach cobbler made fresh today!" mom said to Peter in a tempting way. Peters eyes got really big, "That's my all time favorite!" and he smiled bigger then I'd ever seen him smile. "Okay, I'll get you both some and put it on the kitchen table. Come get it when you are ready." Mom said and then out of seemingly no-where she produced one of dad's t-shirts. "Here you go dear, you can wear this." She said handing the shirt to Peter who was still smiling. Mom left us alone again and Peter, holding the shirt in his lap, looked at me and said, "You know ..." he paused for a moment, "you've got a really nice mom!" He took a breath, looked back down at the shirt and continued, "What you said before about ..." he shot me a glance and I added, "Yeah right!" "Well?" he said and I expected him to continue but he didn't. He just kept looking at the shirt lying there on the towel covering his lap. Ten thousand questions were popping up in my mind and each one I rejected. After a minute or two of silence between us I said, "You ready for some cobbler?" His eyes widened again and that smile returned, "I've not had peach cobbler since I was like 8 years old!" He stood up and tossed the towel at me as he slipped the t-shirt over his head. Mom was right, it did fit him, as a matter of face it was good and long on him, which helped to cover his private parts when he stood up. I could tell he was very relieved. I took the ice from my ankle and my eye and set both bags on my desk. I dropped both towels into the hamper and rummaged one of my t-shirts out of my dresser for myself before leading him back to the kitchen. True to her word, there on the table were two bowels of peach cobbler, a smaller bowl of sugar and a little pitcher of cream as well. Peter took the seat with his back to the sliding door. As he did this I was thinking he wanted to keep his back to the storm just in case but there wasn't anymore lightning or thunder the rest of the evening but it was still raining and was unusually dark for the time of afternoon. We sat and talked while we ate. I learned that Peter used to have an older brother but he died from an allergic reaction to bee stings. I also learned that Peter likes to read but not just anything. He's a serious Hardy-boy's mystery junky. Though he swore me to secrecy on that one under threat of death should I ever tell a living soul. I'd even asked if Mike knew about it and he said aside from the librarian here in town and myself not another person knows. Peter asked me a question that I think bares recording here. He asked me, "When you fought Me, Steven, Max and Johnny you didn't so much as get a scratch on you, how come your younger brother was able to do that to your face?" I managed to laugh at his question and went on to tell him how it'd happened and how I'd gone to apologize and had found that he was in much worse shape then I'd thought when he'd left with his mom. "Having fought you along with three others on my side, I'm surprised your brother's still alive," he said jokingly. After that our conversation turned back to stuff that seemed important at the time, but in the grand scheme of things it was probably pretty dumb. We talked about who would win in a fight, The Rock from WWE wrestling or Mike Tyson. We both said Mike Tyson. We also wondered about who was better looking, Britney Spears or Janette Jackson. We disagreed on this one; I said Janette and Peter said that Britney made his nose hairs twitch, which sent the two of us into hysterical laughter. As we were finishing up out cobbler dad finally arrived home. He was looking a little bit rattled too. "Hi Dad, this is ..." I didn't have to finish. "Peter!" Dad said and nodded to him as he stripped off his raincoat. "You boys get wet coming home?" dad asked. "Just a little Sir." Peter answered before I could. The Sir part caught dad's attention for half a second as he first glanced at Peter and then at me before giving a reassuring smile. "There's a tree down over on Main and it fell on someone's parked car. Had traffic all backed up." Mom came walking around the corner from the dinning room as dad was telling us this. "No one was hurt I hope?" she asked. "I don't think so; but I gave up trying to come home that way and was able to get turned around. I ended up having to come in past their school." He said looking at mom but pointing to us. Dad handed his raincoat and umbrella to mom, leaned forward and gave her a peck on the lips before leaning against the door to get ready to take off his shoes. Just then the front door bell rang. "Can you be a dear and get that, Simon?" Mom said to me. "Yeah sure!" I said, but when I tried to get up my ankle gave out and I fell back into my chair with a thud and a whimper. "OH!" I groaned and ducked under the table to grab my ankle, "OH my ankle!" I moaned. "See, I told ya!" Mom said handing dad back his wet things and going to get the door. "What's wrong with your ankle?" dad asked. I still had my head under the table and was holding my ankle so Peter answered for me. "He twisted it in the race today!" Peter said. "Oh was that today?" Dad asked sounding disappointed. "Simon, you should have reminded me, I would have taken the afternoon off to come see you run!" I had my foot up on my other leg and came out from under the table but was still clutching at my ankle. "But it wasn't hurting until just now!" I complained more to my foot then to dad. "Well ankles will do that! I remember when I sprained mine back in college. I walked on it for an entire day before it swelled up on me." Dad said finally managing to get both his shoes off while holding his raincoat and umbrella. "So how did you do?" Dad asked. "Dad! You won't believe this but I finished the mile! I actually ran a mile!" I nearly shouted. Just then mom came back into the kitchen followed by two police officers. One was the now familiar Amazon woman officer and the other was one of the other male officers I'd not seen since being introduced to them last week. "Oh hi there!" I said with surprise, however the looks on their faces were not very warm or welcoming. The Amazonian asked, "What happen to this boy?" like I was an inanimate object someone had broke. She was talking directly to Peter and she looked to be growing larger buy the second. I looked over to Peter and he appeared as though someone had just turned him into stone. His eyes were about the size of dinner plates, his mouth was hanging all the way open and he was so white that snow would have been jealous of him. His eyes were locked on the lady officer and there was no chance he was going to be able to speak anytime soon. "Actually his little brother gave it to him originally." Mom said. "Mom!" I complained and looked to the two officers who still didn't look happy. "He's not that much littler then me! And it was a lucky punch!" I said being sure to leave out my part in the fight. The man of stone sitting across from me finally spoke but still managed to stay nearly completely motionless. He spoke very monotone and with absolutely no life at all, "He fell in the race today." Dad finally laughed and started talking. After a few minutes dad had everything smoothed over, he had both officers laughing too and I got to recount the entire race, moment by exciting moment for all five of them. Even mom managed to talk them both into taking some peach cobber with them when they left. They had only stopped by to check on me, to see that Peter and his friends were behaving themselves and not trying to muscle me around. I told them that Peter and they guys had been totally trouble free the whole time! It wasn't until they left that Peter started to get some color back in his face again. But he remained very quiet and edgy. That woman really rattled him and I tried to talk him down but he was really wound up tight. It wasn't until mom and dad had left us alone in the kitchen that Peter finally looked at me with dreadfulness all in his face. "What?" I asked concernedly. "I-I had an accident." He said and I didn't understand him as he said it so softly. "What?" I asked again. "I had an accident!" he repeated softly but forcefully. I was honestly shocked, I mean totally and completely shocked. I'm sure I probably sat there with my mouth open in disbelief for what must have seemed like an eternity to poor Peter. Finally breaking out of my callus state, I ducked my head under the table and got a remarkable view of my light blue sweatpants on him with the most obvious wet spot in the crotch and running all the way down his left leg. I came back up and Peter was looking over my head into space. I knew he was in a very dangerously fragile state right now and there are countless numbers of kids at school that would give everything they own to be sitting in my place at that moment. I still don't know why I didn't seize the opportunity when it presented itself - no instead I put on my shining armor, mounted my gleaming white horse and rode to his rescue! Gawd, I am such a sap! "Okay, don't move!" I said to him and he continued to look over my head unable to even make eye contact with me. I managed to get myself up from the table, though I had to lean on the table to keep the weight mostly off my sore ankle. I made sure mom and dad were not looking and hobbled back to my room were I retrieved the two towels I'd deposited into my hamper. I hobbled back to the kitchen and sat back in my same chair with the two towels in my lap. Peter was finally looking at me again and he really looked to be just this side of loosing it. He looked like a little lost puppy with those big sad eyes. I find it very funny writing about it, but at the time, I think I was a little scared for him too. I let one of the towels drop to the floor and moved it over to him with my one foot. Without being told he took the towel with his feet and moved it around on the floor and around his chair to clean up any pee that had got on the floor. He somehow managed to get the towel from the floor up to his right hand without bending over at all. I've no idea how he did this since I didn't have my X-Ray Vision Glasses on at the time to be able to see through the table. He passed the towel under the table to his left hand and then over to my lap. I looked at him like, "I don't want your pee on me!" but I didn't say anything. I passed him the other towel and said, "Just hold it in front of you, I'll walk behind you back to my room and no one should ever know!" We both got up from the table and I moved around behind him. My ankle was really starting to smart and I had to almost hop on one foot to get back to my room. Going down the hall I'd got a good look at the back of him and he was completely soaked. Those two cops must have scared him so bad that he just lost control of his bladder. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd had that problem back in the principles office the other day but there was no way I was going to ask him. I closed and locked my door and Peter deposited himself back into my desk chair. I was glad it is made of wood; there was no risk of him staining or making it smell of pee. He had his head hanging down as if he were trying to hide himself from me. "Every place I go I keep running into them." He said solemnly. "I went into the bathroom at Burger King day before yesterday and when I came out one of them was standing by the door." He continued. I dropped the towel we'd used to wipe up the pee into the hamper and settled myself on my bed. Without being asked he reached behind himself and handed me the bag of ice that was partially melted, which actually helped it to mold around my ankle. He continued talking almost like I wasn't there, "You ever wish you could go back in time and redo stuff?" I wasn't sure if he was actually asking me a question that he wanted me to answer or if he was just talking. With almost no movement of his head he looked my way and I quietly said, "Yeah, lots of times." He repositioned the towel on his lap inattentively while we both sat in silence. After a while mom knocked on my door again; despite my ankle I got up and answered it. Without coming into the room she handed me Peters' clothes and said, "Your father has put Peters bicycle into the van and is going to take Peter home whenever he's ready. Just let your father know, okay?" I nodded as she left and I closed and relocked the door again. Peter stood up and set the towel on the chair behind him and walked over to take his clothes from me. He surprised me by sliding one arm under mine and helped me back to my bed where he set the ice bag back on my ankle. An hour ago, I'd had this image of Peter in my head but now, that image was being challenged. He wasn't this big mean ogre that everyone's scared of and that enjoyed making others lives miserable. Sure he did all that, but inside I think it was his way of protecting himself. Once I was resting on my bed again he went over, laid his clothes on Jamie's bed and from outside the window there was a flash of light, but no thunder followed. Peter had seen it too and had tensed up waiting for the crash that never came. He pulled off dad's t- shirt which had gotten wet in the back along to bottom seam were he'd been sitting on it. His bottom was completely soaked all the way down the left inside of the leg. There was another flash and he tensed up again but still there was no thunder. In the back of my mind I was thinking that it must be so far away that we can't hear the thunder. He kept his back to me as he pulled off the sweatpants, walked over and dropped them both into my hamper. I almost felt like I was the single member of an audience privileged to watch this boy on the cusp of manhood perform. He looked so crestfallen and fragile as he turned back to the bed giving me a perfect frontal view of his nude self. He was a little pudgy but his legs seemed too thin for the rest of his body and his butt was nearly non-excitant. At the time, it didn't occur to me to look away, I sat staring, maybe more then staring at him as he redressed himself before me. It didn't seem to bother him in the least that I was mesmerized. As he was buttoning his pants I heard him say in an almost inaudible whisper, "Clothes right out of the dryer feel almost like hugs." "Wow, that's kind of poetic." I said back to him and he looked up at me for the first time since he started getting dressed. "What does?" he said not realizing I'd heard him. "You're right, they do feel almost like hugs! Kind of warm all over!" I added. He didn't smile or say anything in response but sucked in his tummy and zipped up his pants before reaching for his shirt. The ice was making my foot very cold and as I tried to reposition myself so that I could reach the ice something caught my eye outside the window. I looked and to my horror there covered with a green raincoat was the head of Jasper looking in through my window. My eyes nearly fell out of my head and I choked on my own spit. I coughed and looked back to the window but he was gone. "You okay?" Peter asked. "Uh? What? Yeah, I'm fine!" I said a little too enthusiastically. He gave me a quizzical stare before sitting down on Jamie's bed to put on his socks. My cough had broken the mood and before my eyes I saw Peter returning to his old self. With both socks on he stood up, dropped both shoes on the floor and stepped into them without untying them as if they were slip on shoes. He stuffed his tie and his wet underwear into his book bag and slung it over his shoulder. He took two steps and was standing at my feet looking down at me. I couldn't tell which Peter I was facing. Part of him looked like the Peter I've known and feared for years and part of him looked like the boy I'd seen sitting at the kitchen table after having peed himself out of fear. He bent down as though he were going to reposition the ice for me. but instead took hold of my ankle. Now I'd like to be able to say that after seeing the gentle and fragile side of Peter this afternoon changed the way I felt about him. I'd like to be able to say that I'm not frightened of Peter anymore. But that wouldn't be true. I think fear can become a habit. And I've been afraid of Peter for so long, it has become as natural to me as wetting my bed. And no matter how brave I try to make myself seem around him, when it comes down to the truth, Peter is still the ultimate bully-at least for me. So with him grasping my ankle and me gripping my blanket tightly in both hands on either side of my bottom he said, "What happened today was private. Just between the two of us. Understand?" He gave my ankle a squeeze, which really wasn't necessary because I did understand. It isn't a threat of the old sort-the one where the lump would have been in my throat. But it is, nevertheless, a threat, a statement about the fragility of our new relationship. The first test of the new status quo will come tomorrow, I'm sure of it! He turned toward the door and I glanced back to the window, sure enough Jasper's face had returned but it was nestled down in the far corner of the pane. I looked back to Peter who had just unlocked the door and had his hand on the knob. He stopped, turned his head and said calmly, "For what it's worth; Thanks!" and opening the door he walked out of my room. A minute later mom was standing in the doorway. "You okay?" she asked and in those two words I know she was asking a whole lot more. With a secretive glance at the window, acting as thought I was looking at my ankle, I saw that Jasper was gone. "I'm good!" I said. "Okay! Your father's just leaving with Peter and dinner will be ready when he gets back." She said. "Okay!" I added as she left. I waited a couple minutes until I heard the clanging of pans from the kitchen before I moved toward the window, letting the bag of ice drop on the floor. I slid it open and stuck my head out but Jasper was nowhere to be seen. I even wondered if I'd actually seen him or if he was just something my imagination had conjured up. After closing my window I went to my desk to get my notebook to begin writing about my day, the race and what'd just occurred here with Peter. However, there laying in the drawer under my notebook was the red binder Tater had given me. Until that very second I'd completely forgot about doing exercises here at home. With a disgusted look at my ankle I closed the drawer again and hopped over to my bed to write. I've no idea how long I had been sitting on my bed lost in my writing. It wasn't until dad touched the bottom of my foot that I even knew he had come into my room. My body gave a jolt at the sudden snap back to the present reality. "You were really lost there, weren't you?" dad said with a smile as he picked up the bag of now mostly melted ice and set it on my desk next to the other. "Oh sorry dad! Yeah I was writing!" I said closing my notebook and slid the pencil into the spiral binding that held all the pages together. "I called your name twice and you didn't even hear me." he said, sitting down on the foot of Jamie's bed. "Sorry" I said with a smile. "You had a really good day over all then?" dad asked. "Yeah, I really still can't believe how great it was to finish the race dad!" "I'm glad for you and I am sorry I missed it!" he said and then added, "How's the ankle?" "You know that's really weird. I mean, it was fine after the race, fine on the bus back to school, and fine all the way home. I didn't even give it a second thought until Peter pointed it out to me." I said. Dad got up, came over and gently took hold of my ankle. It might be sore tomorrow, and maybe even bruised but I don't think you will have too much problem walking on it. You might not be doing any running for a while but I'm sure you will live to run again!" he said and then pointed to my eye, "That okay?" he asked. Like always when someone drew attention to my eye, my hand instinctively went to it. "Yeah, it's okay too! I can't see out of it at all right now but it's not hurting too much really! Mom doctored it all up when I got home." I said. "Yeah I can still smell that cream." Dad said. "Dad?" I started to ask a question. "Yeah?" he answered. "You and Peter talk about anything on the way to his house?" I asked. He paused as he softly laid my foot back on the bed. He stood up straight and went over to my window; I could tell there was something bothering him but I didn't know what. He ran his finger around the pain of glass. "I'm going to have to reglaze the windows this summer. It's starting to crack and could let air in." he wiped his finger on his pants as he turned back around to me. "I'm not so sure we made the right decision the other day." Dad said and I had no idea what he was talking about. I gave him my questioning look and he continued. "I guess I am just saying that you need to be careful with how close you get with Peter and his friends." Dad finally said. Mom called from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready!" I scooted my butt over to the end of my bed. "I am." I said to dad. He smiled and said, "You want a ride to dinner?" "Yeah!" I smiled back. He squatted down in front of me and allowed me to climb onto his back. He reached around and locked his arms under my knees and off we went to the kitchen for dinner. Mom had made Sloppy-Joe's for us and I made them live up to there name. Before I was finished, I was eating them with a fork cause I'd been so sloppy with mine. Toward the end of dinner I asked, "Can I call Jamie to see how he is?" I could tell this was not a question either of them had expected. They looked at each other and dad swallowed his mouthful of food. "I don't think that is a good idea ,Simon," Dad said. "Why not?" I asked. "Because the last time I talked with his mother she was not very pleasant a person." Dad added. "So she didn't call yesterday?" I asked and immediately knew I'd over played my cards, "I mean I heard you talk to her on the phone Saturday but I didn't hear you at all yesterday so I was thinking ..." I trailed off there at the end, I knew it was a futile attempt to try to dig myself back out of the whole I'd mistakenly leaped into but it seemed to work. Dad took a drink of his water while mom was sitting just looking at me. I tried not to make eye contact with either of them. "I just want to make sure he's okay, and I would like to tell him about the race today." I added. "You can try but don't be surprised if she yells or even hangs up on you." Dad said popping his last bite into his mouth. Now I've known for a while now that mom has a way of knowing about things that I think are completely secret so I was really trying not to look at her while I finished my dinner and gulped down my milk. Mom made me go wash my face and hands when I had finished before she would let me call Jamie. The phone rang three times before Jamie finally answered. "Hi Jamie! How are you?" I asked without saying who I was. "Oh hi Simon! I'm feeling loads better!" Jamie still sounded a bit stuffy nosed, but not near as bad as he had. "How's the eye?" he asked. "You won't believe this, but I busted it open again today." I said and then went on to describe the whole race in detail for him. He was a good listener and inserted several "Oh's" and "Wow's" in all the right places. We talked for nearly twenty minutes-to mom's complete astonishment-before we said goodbye. No sooner had I hung up the phone and it rang again. Since I was right there I picked it up, "Hello?" "Simon?" it was Mike. "MIKEY!" I shouted into the phone. "Hi Simon, man I been trying to call you for like fifteen minutes!" Mike complained. "Oh yeah, that's cause I was on the phone with my brother telling him about the race today! Hey, I didn't see you in school this morning." I added suddenly realizing that fact. "I was there!" Mike said. "Huh, well let me tell you about the race today!" and I again recounted the details for Mike who was just as good an audience as Jamie had been. Before I got off the phone with him we made plans to get together after school tomorrow. He said he had something he wanted to show me in his room. I figure it's a new model or something like that, knowing him. After I'd hung up with Mike I was about to retreat to my room but then I thought about Jasper and decided to call him. I had to look up his number in the book and the phone only rang once before their mom answered. "Oh hi Mrs. Hawkins, this is Simon Leonard. Is Jasper home?" I asked. "Oh I'm sorry Simon. He went over to his little friends to play. He should be home in an hour or so, would you like me to tell him you called?" she sounded a lot like Mike's mom with that same sweet sing-song voice. "Yeah and thank you!" I said and added, "Bye." For about ten full seconds I thought about trying to call Peter just to make sure he was okay, but then I thought about what he'd said while holding my ankle and what dad had said about him. So I changed my mind and hobbled off to my room to do my homework. It didn't take me too long to get my homework done. I guess that's the benefit of only going to my morning classes. I'm sure I'll get extra to do tomorrow. When I was done with my homework and had skimmed through yet another chapter of that darn boring book, I decided that I'd try and do some online surfing. I hobbled over to my bedroom door and stuck my head out. "Mom, Dad is it okay if I get online for a while?" I shouted down the hallway. Dad called back, "Yes, it's okay!" Now the rule in our house is, that when I'm online I have to keep my door to my room open. I guess it's my parents' way of feeling like I'm not going to go places online that I'm not supposed to go if my door is open. They almost never bother me when I'm online or come and check up on me so I don't worry too much. Also the way my computer sits on my desk I can see out of the corner of my eye if they come into the room and I can usually hear them coming down the hall, too. I popped online and started to check my email. Most of it was junk mail but I did have one from someone named StrikerAce. I opened it and was overjoyed to find that it was an email from Jasper. I've no idea how he got my email address. In it he said he would be coming over in a little while, I looked at the time stamp at sure enough that was just a little before dinnertime. That would have been just about right. Now I know I saw him in the window and I wondered if he had been standing on Lowell. If so I felt sorry for Lowell having to kneel down in the mud and rain. I also had an email from my dad that contained a joke he'd sent me from his work. Dad does that sometimes when he gets a good clean joke. One time I sent him a joke that was just a little on the dirty side and boy you'd of thought I had sent him some porn to his work email. He chewed me out when he got home and threatened to take my computer and beat it with a baseball bat. So now I only email him at work about stuff like to say hello or remind him about school functions. After I was done with my email I went and took a peek down the hallways just for safety sake before bringing up one of my favorite sites with pictures and stories of others in diapers. Man time flew by and before I knew it, it was bedtime again. I heard someone coming down the hallway and had quickly did an Alt-Tab to bring up the Kids Internet page and to hide Deeker's web site that I had been currently viewing. It turned out to be dad, "You still on that thing?" "Actually, I was just about to kill it and go to bed." I lied. "Good, it's about that time anyway. You feeling okay?" he asked. "Yeah! Fine!" I said. He gave me one of those funny looks of his and went back down the hall. I flipped back over to Deeker's web site with another Alt-Tab and printed the story I had been reading so that I could lay in bed and read it. While it was printing I went and closed my door and then went to get undressed. Just about the same time I had completely stripped the last page came out of my printer. I went over to my computer and was about to log off when the little mail icon started to blink. I decided to check it out, I knew it was probably more junk mail but it wasn't. It was another email from StrikerAce. Simon, Glad I finally found you! I got your email address from the 'Find A Buddy' search on the Kids Internet. Okay, you have got to tell me why Peter wet his pants! ~ StrikerAce ~ a.k.a Jasper And attached to the email was a picture that made me nearly fall out of my chair. I was looking at a very detailed picture of Peter from behind wearing my sweatpants and it was clear as can be that he'd wet them. I was panicking! "How'd he know? How'd he get this? How, how, how?" I whisper-screamed at my computer. I looked closer at the picture and realized that it had been taken through my window and I knew that the two flashes I'd seen while Peter was changing his clothes were not lightning but were the flashes from a camera. "No wonder there was no thunder!" I said again to my computer! I was about to re-email Jasper but I heard dad calling from down the hallway, "Lights out Simon!" I quickly logged off the computer and hobbled over to the door to flip off my light. In the partial darkness that was still being semi-lit from the streetlight outside I made my way back to my bed and climbed in. It took me a while to get to sleep. I couldn't stop seeing that picture in my head and the questions wouldn't stop flooding my mind.