This is all fantasy fiction. None of the events are real.
Please help Nifty keep our stories alive and donate! https://donate.nifty.org
Email me with comments and suggestions:
Proton Mail: Foxfire3730@proton.me
Edited by Andrew Thomas
This story is an original work of fiction ©Copyright 2022 Tux - Please do not copy or post without permission.
AJ has been out of the hospital for two weeks. It's the Sunday before school begins.
Standing at attention feels funny. My back is so straight I kind of want to fall over. My sisters and I stand before the great Uncle Jack. I started to call him Uncle Jack the day he fixed my door. He doesn't seem to mind, and the twins seem to giggle every time I say it, so they must be okay with it.
"Stand up straight and put your chest out," he says as he walks back and forth along the line. The twins are on horseback and are prancing around us. Zacks gives me a funny face along with blowing me a kiss, and I begin to laugh like crazy. I mean, I am barely holding it in as it is.
"Do you think riding horses is a laughing matter?" Uncle Jack yells as he quickly kneels in front of me and tickles my sides.
"Stop! Stop, I'm going to pee my pants," I belly laugh and plead. I do a little dance in place. Not to escape, but to wiggle. It feels good to have a man's hands on me again.
"Well, we can't have that in front of girls, can we?" he says as he stands back up. I heave and hoe as I start to breathe again. Man, it feels good to get back to how I was before I had the shakes two weeks ago. "Today we are learning to ride horses. This is a stud ranch, and if you have any interest at all, you will need to know how to ride."
I'm not going to hide my nervousness even if I could, but knowing that I am with Zack calms me down like nothing ever has. Even though I felt safe around Uncle Jack and Zack, there are certain things I just can't control. Uncle Jack has 36 interlocking squares on this shirt and eight belt loops on his pants. I know, I've counted them twice so far.
"AJ, you're riding with Zack," and without knowing what was going on, uncle picks me up under my arms and hoists me up to Zack's saddle, where he catches me. I grab the horn of the saddle for dear life, and Zack wraps his arms around me. Enveloping me in a warm safeness. I hold my breath until it is over.
"I got you. You're going to be fine. I won't let anything hurt you," Zack repeats it in almost a whisper in my ear. I open my eyes and see how high we are. "Do you feel him breathing, AJ?" Zacks asks while leaning over and placing a hand on the horse's side.
I place my hand on his arm and slide it down to the horse's side and notice, I do feel him breathing, "Yeah, I do. Neat," I tell him and give him an award-winning smile. The saddle is a little hard for my legs to straddle, but I think it will be ok for a short while.
Looking out, I see Missy and Alice on one horse and Lana on her own, but Uncle Jack is leading it around. Zeke is just spinning his horse, showing off. As our horse trots around, I say without thinking, "You guys are lucky to own horses."
Zack's leans over and gives me a look of confusion. "Little guy, you own everything here on this land. Horses, four-wheelers, and all the equipment, it's all yours, we just run the farm."
"Huh, that's incredible. So, if I wanted, I could ride this horse all day by myself?"
He laughs at me. I'll have to remember to tickle attack him later. When he stops, he tells me, "Well, I'm sure your mom would kill me if I let you do that. Besides, wouldn't it be nicer to ride with me?" He's got me there, and I let him know by laying my head on his chest and sighing a little.
Uncle Jack says, "Okay everyone you can start moving around slowly. Try to stay near Zeke unless you lose control, and he needs to help you."
So, we start moving and the best way to describe it is: bouncy. Having Zack with me, we got to go out a little farther and then go around Zeke. It felt good to know that Zack was there for me and would protect me. I loved his scent. It is a mix of boy-sweat and Axe body wash. I saw it in his shower when I was at his house and used the bathroom. I'm really starting to like it. After a while of riding the horse, I began to have a problem. My nuts are really beginning to hurt, and soon the pain is more than I can bear, and I ask to get down.
Zack rides me over to Uncle Jack and he helps me off. He has me slide to the side he's on and catches me when I am in range. He whips me around in a circle as I belly laugh again and then sets me down. I act like I'm dizzy by spinning around, and Zack dismounts to hold me. His hug feels great. It's loving, firm, and makes me feel special. I melt into him for as little time as I am given before the alarms go off in my head and I push him away, shocking uncle and Zack.
Watching Alice from the corner of my eye, I announce, "Stop it! I don't like to be hugged. "Boys shouldn't hug boys," I say as I storm back to the hay bales stacked by the gate.I tried so hard not to look at anyone, but I had to make her think, no matter how much it hurt, that I wasn't hugging Zack. Uncle and the twins were still in shock, and my sisters began to laugh, mostly Missy. Seeing the way Zack looked at me was painful and I wanted to cry so badly. I knew that if I did, Missy would tease me about that too, so I spun around and looked away from everyone, in case I started to cry. Finger, thumb, Finger, thumb, Finger, thumb, Finger, thumb, then backwards and repeat. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five...
I couldn't get the look on his face out of my mind and I could feel them all looking at me. When I can't take it any longer, I stand up and scream loudly, "AAAAAARRRRRGGGGHHH!" and say I'm going to my room. Then left.
We're in the stables putting away the horses. Brushing them, feeding them, and all that jazz. When I just can't take it anymore, I go up to Uncle Jack and ask if I can talk to him. He just says "sure," and I'm sure he knows what this is about, but he humors me. "It's kind of private," I say, looking at Zeke, who throws up his hands.
"Hey, I know where I'm not wanted. Don't tell you brother why don't yah. It's not like we share the same thoughts and feelings anyway." and then he huffed back towards the house.
After Zeke leaves the barn, I make sure he's gone, then walk right up to Uncle Jack and lean my head on uncle's six-pack. Before my forehead touches Uncle, my waterworks flow. Uncle wraps his strong arms around my shoulders, and I sob. He gave me a few moments to let out what I had been forcing myself to hold in, so I didn't cry in front of Zeke.
"There, there, come over here," he says as he leads me over to a hay bale and we sit down. We sit next to each other, and after a bit of silence, I lean over and rest my head on his shoulder. He pats my leg and says, "Why don't you start from the beginning."
I sniff a few times and wipe my eyes and nose with my shirt. "I love him Jack," I tell him plainly. I figured from past experience with my uncle that using his first name tells him how serious I am. On a normal day, if I did that, I'm sure I'd walk funny for the rest of the day, but at this moment he lets it go. "He had been flirting with me for days, and last week Zeke and I were... well, AJ saw us and dropped his teddy bear. I went there to return it and he..." I looked at Uncle, thinking how much I should tell him about ogling AJ while he slept.
"I can't help you unless you tell me what happened."
I know he's right, "He was sleeping on top of his covers, only wearing his... ummm." I feel the shame swell up in my chest and it chokes me quiet.
"Zack? Did you do something to him while he slept?"
I shake my head and add, "No sir, although I wanted to. Jack, he's so small and I'm sure his underwear is a few years old because it was tight. And to make matters worse, he was... well, he had a... you know- tenting."
"Oh, okay. But you didn't do anything to him right. No touching?" He asks with a look that could generate pride or set off a bomb. I just shook my head no, and he put his arm around my shoulders.
"I knew I couldn't live with myself if I did that. Anyway, I woke him up and gave him the bear, and he just jumped into my lap, hugging me. Uncle Jack, it's everything I've ever wanted, and I was in heaven until... he whispered in my ear and asked me..." I looked at Uncle in his eyes and finished, "... am I a bad boy?"
Jack's eyes went wide, and he sat up a little straighter. "What did you tell him?"
My tears started to flow again, but I managed to get out his answer, "I told him he wasn't. I thought he was talking about Zeke and me, so I'm sure my answer wasn't what he wanted. He settled into my lap again and laid his head on my shoulder." Wiping my tears again, I continued, "Everything was heaven again until Mrs. Docker yelled up the stairs to make sure he was up, and AJ leaped from my lap. Jack, he was shaking and freaking out. I tried to calm him down, and when he was sure she was back downstairs, he leaped back on my lap, telling me something that keeps me up at night." I took a deep breath and tried to settle my nerves before I finished.
"He said that she took someone from him because that person was `playing games' with him. AJ's mom told him that that person was bad because he played those games, and I was okay so far. I had in mind what to say, but then he confessed that he liked those games and wanted to play them. Then he laid his head on my shoulder again and whispered, 'Am I a bad boy?' I just stared at him and pushed him into a hug again while my mind shifted through all the clues the boy had been dropping for two weeks." When I look at Uncle, he's looking down at the floor, and I can tell he knows. "It was his dad, wasn't it?"
After some time with no answer, I ask again, but a little louder than I want to, "Tell me! Tell me what to say! Tell me what to do!"
He quickly wraps me up in a hug and I cry again into his chest, feeling lost, weak, and useless.
I scream in his chest, "If she finds out about us, she'll hate us too, and I'll never see AJ again." He pats my back and begins to rock me, "I'm going to lose him. Please tell me what to do. Tell me what to say. "
I walk into the house and enter my room. Zeke is laying on our bed, and he's tossing a baseball up and catching it. "Enjoy your talk," he plainly asks.
"Yes... and no," I tell him as I move to the bed and pull up on his shoulder, letting him know I want to sit on the bed. He leans up and I sit behind him, and now we're back-to-back. Holding my hand out in front of me, after a few seconds, a baseball drops into my hand. I throw it from hand to hand then up over my head.
Behind me, I can hear the ball smack into my brother's hand, and he says, "You know, I love him as much as you do," and holding out my hand, I wait and the ball falls from over my shoulder into my hand.
"I know, I can feel you do."
"But you two have a connection he and I just don't have," Zeke says as his voice cracks.
Sometimes this connection we have really sucks. It's knowing someone is hurting and, on top of that, you feel it too. "I feel useless. I just don't have the words."
"I don't know what you're not telling me, but I'm always here for you bro," and soon I hear the ball smack into his hand.
"He's hurting, Zeke. Uncle thinks that the only thing I can do is be there for him and not take anything he says to heart when he loses it. Uncle thinks the divorce was especially hard on AJ and he's having trouble accepting it. He told me AJ's not mad at me, sometimes we hurt the ones we love to show how much pain we're in." I hold out my hand and from over my shoulder, the ball drops into my hand. I get up and begin to walk out of the room.
Zeke lays back down and reassuringly says, "I've got your back. We'll protect him together."
I toss the ball over my shoulder and give Zeke a nod as I leave, I hear him catch the ball.
Sitting at the kitchen bar on my normal stool, I count the notches. Alice sits across from me, trying to make eye contact. "Andrew?"
My finger moves from one notch to another, "Huh?"
"Can you look at me?"
"Huh?" I answer her as I count.
"Andrew Maxis Docker, do you think Zack deserved what you did to him?"
Whoa, Alice used my full name, and my counting finger stops. "No," I hear myself answer.
She reaches over the bar and lifts my chin, and I move my eyes to the right to the clock over the stove. "Can you look at me, please? AJ, look at me." My eyes slowly move to connect to hers and my emotions begin to bubble up, and she asks me, "AJ do you think you hurt Zack's feelings?" I nod, my head in her hand. "Why did you do that?"
I want to scream it at her. I want to yell so Zack can hear me. I want to let her know how hurt I am, but I just shrug, and I feel a tear fall down my cheek.
"What should you do?"
"Say I'm sorry," I whisper and wipe my cheek.
"Okay, this is what we're going to do; you're going to tell Zack your sorry tomorrow at the front door before you go to the school bus, so I can make sure you do it right and if you don't do it correctly, you will stand in the corner after school until dinner. Then you can try again the next day."
"Yes ma'am."
"And after school," she continues. "You will be going to a child therapist named Miss. Ford." I sniff a few times to no avail as snot and tears make a mess of my face. "Oh honey," she says as she takes a paper towel and cleans my face. "She will be a safe person to talk to, and when you're done, I will go in and talk to her. We both need help, baby. This just isn't working." Now that I'm crying, I can't stop myself from seeing Zack's face when I pushed him. The longer it stays in my mind, the more uncontrollable my sobs are. My mommy comes and picks me up, and I know we're heading to the bathroom to take a bubble bath.
Later that night, I stare at my ceiling like I have since Alice put me to bed at 6pm. I've counted my ceiling stars so many times that I lose interest and look at the clock. It's 10pm. Every time I close my eyes, I see Zack's face. I get out of bed and drag Maxwell to the back balcony and look through the telescope at Zacks' house. He's sitting outside in a chair, staring at my room. I give him a small wave, and he puts a tiny smile on my face when he gives me a small wave back. I sign `I'm sorry,' knowing that he can't understand me, but selfishly I feel a little better.
Looking through the scope, I get a really good look at him when he signs back, `I know. Good night.' Then he gives me a smile and signs, `I love you,' and he goes inside. He learned to sign for me. He loves me. I head back to bed, and I fall into the covers on my belly and hug my pillow, telling Maxwell, "He loves me."
In the morning, my eyes snap open and my excitement is through the roof for the first day of school. My sisters are gone by the time I get up, so I get to the bathroom without a fight, eat my breakfast in peace, and watch cartoons until I hear a knock at the door.
"Come on, Andrew, you know what I said about Zack," Alice reminds me.
"I know. I will."
The door opens and it is like letting all the air out of my balloon. Zack and Zeke stand down the steps, watching us.My mouth doesn't work. I can feel her eyes boring into the back of my head. "Uuumm... about yesterday when we were riding the horses-"
"Hey, don't worry about it, water under the bridge," he says with an amazing smile.
Alice steps up, and I can feel her almost touching my back as she looks at Zack. I see his eyes shift from me to her and he swallows.
"That's very mature of you, Zack, but how did you feel when Andrew pushed you?" she asks, her gaze fixed on me.
His eyes shift back and forth as he decides how far to take this. "It really hurt my feelings. I thought we were friends, but I talked to Uncle Jack, and he told me that sometimes we hurt the ones we love to show how much pain we're in." His eye contact with me is honest and direct with me, as if he is trying to tell me something other than his words. "You can hurt me AJ if you need to. I can take it."
Shame and guilt must be all over my face when I tell him, "I'm really sorry for what I did, Zack. I won't do it again." Within the blink of an eye, Zack folded me in the warmest hug. My tears got on his shirt, but he didn't seem to care. It was an act of defiance. He knew Alice didn't want me to hug boys, but he didn't care. It was almost like he was daring her to say something.
Alice let us hug for quite a surprising long time before she said, "You know what? Why don't I just drive you kids to school? Let me get the truck and I'll come around and pick you up." Zack let me go, and I went back inside to get my school backpack and Maxwell.
With the door shut and what little privacy we have, Zack takes my hand, and we walk down the stairs to where Zeke is standing with his backpack. Zeke gives me a hug and tells me, "We will always be here for you little bro, no matter what, understand?" And I did understand.
As the SUV pulls up, Zacks asks, "You excited for your first day at our school?"
"Kind of, I don't know anyone, but you guys, and you guys are in eighth grade."
Zeke gives me that smirk he's so fond of giving people and says, "The other kids are going to love you. Third grade, right?"
I answer with a nod. He leans down and whispers in my ear, "You sure it's best to bring your teddy bear."
I wrinkled my nose and thought maybe I already screwed up my day. Looking at Maxwell, I wonder why I can't have him at school. In New York, I used to bring him to school every day. "Do you think the other kids will make fun of me?"
Zack punches his brother in the shoulder and rescues me, "You'll be fine, AJ. You're a great kid and everyone is going to love you."
Zeke shrugs, and as he turns to get into the SUV, he grudgingly says, "...I'm just saying."
Once we get in and seated, Zack helps me with my seatbelt. He takes Maxwell from me and looks him over. I was a little nervous that someone else was holding my bear, but after what I did to him yesterday, I think I owe him some leeway. He looks him over and slides his hand down the beads on the front of his chest. Then looks at this little backpack and its contents. "Rubik's cube, an inhaler, a syringe with a medicine bottle, and..." His hand comes out with the memory chip, and I can see his lips begin to form words. My hands moved faster than he registered when I reached up and covered his mouth. With my other hand, I laid it on his hand with the chip and slowly forced it back into the little bear's backpack. I mouthed the words `please don't' and removed my hand from his mouth. Taking Maxwell back, I zip up the pack and sign, `I'm sorry.'
Zack's look is questionable, and I look towards Alice. Then back at him and shake my head "no." Zack says a little louder so everyone can hear, "Okay, I think Zeke is right though. Let's put your bear in your backpack for now. I said `thanks' and helped him work Maxwell in my backpack.
Getting out of the truck is going to be pure chaos. There are so many kids and the school is so big that I gasp at the size. "It's grades first through twelfth. We didn't qualify for two different schools because of the count of our kids, so they just built one and shoved all of us in it," Zeke leans forward and tells me. Alice parks the SUV and we all walk in together. Once we get to the stairs, Zack and Zeke tell us they are on the second floor with the rest of the middle schoolers, and I only have to worry about the first floor with the elementary schoolers. Alice walks me to the office, and we meet the secretary and the principal. The secretary gives me my schedule, a map, and offers to show us around. I take the schedule and the map, look it over a few times, and then hand it back. The secretary looks questionable at Alice, but then when she doesn't say anything, she puts it back on the counter.
"We are very excited to have you with us this year, AJ."
`Cool, she got my name right,' I think to myself.
She proceeds to tell me that my father had come here to personally inspect the school to make sure it was ready for someone like me. Alice looked uncomfortable, but I loved the attention. We looked at the lunchroom and the gym, and then she took us to an eighth-grade geometry class. She told me that this was my math class, and I would have it before lunch. After the class, I would have lunch with the eighth-grade class, then back to my third-grade classroom to finish the day. I look a little worried, but Alice and the secretary tell me that I will be great, that I should have no doubts, but my experience with older kids never ended well. I've had my share of swirlies.
The first period bell rings, and we arrive at my third-grade class. Alice walks me in and meets the teacher while I place my backpack in my cubby. I open it to see Maxwell looking back at me, and I look around the room to see if anyone else has a stuffed animal. Everyone is rushing to their seats, and I decide to try to get through the day without him.
Alice must be able to feel my apprehension, so she kneels and pulls my chin to get me to make eye contact. "Hey, you're going to be great. Just try and enjoy yourself today, and you can tell me all about it when I pick you up for the doctor's appointment." I give her a nod and she kisses me on the cheek. After she leaves, I go back to my backpack and get a rope tied into a circle with a bunch of nylon washers threaded on it, and I shove it in my pocket until I get to the desk with my name on it, and I put it inside.
Third grade here is much like it was in New York, boring. Every time the teacher gives me a book, I flip through it a few times and then just sit there until about an hour till lunchtime. The bell rings, and everyone grabs their lunch. The teacher calls me up and asks, "You, young man, are on your way to your geometry class. Do you know the way?" I stare at the floor and nod my head. "Do you want me to take you there just in case?" With another nod, she sends me to gather my backpack with my stuff and we head to the second floor.
Eighth grade works differently than third grade. Each subject is a different class. The school agreed to let me try one of the older classes to see how it works. Then if it works, they will bump me up next year. Once we get to the geometry class, my teacher takes me in and introduces me to the eighth-grade teacher.
The class is full of kids, all about the twins' age. I spend most of my time staring at the ground. NO EYE CONTACT! That is the lesson I learned in New York City. The kids are whispering and talking back and forth until they see me standing by the teacher's desk. I scan the room and suddenly feel a serious mistake has been made.
"Well, hello there!" Says the teacher. He was a younger man and is tall and lanky. "AJ, I'm Mr. Wolde." He gives me a handshake, a book, and asks me to take my seat. I see where he is pointing but lower my head before I go there. There are no cubbies here, so I just place my bag next to my chair. I place my book on my desk and begin to flip through it. As the teacher is talking to everyone, I get almost to the end of the book, and someone kicks my chair up into my desk. Rubbing my sore chest, I think, `And so it begins.'
I reach into my backpack and pull out my rope and put it in my desk. Keeping my hands in the desk, unless I need to turn the page, I begin counting the nylon washers on the rope. About halfway through the book for a third time, a hand lays on my shoulder, making me jump. Twenty-five washers.
"Wow, you were in your own world, weren't you?" asked Mr. Wolde. My eyes scan the room, and everyone is looking at me. I can't hide anywhere. I just had to sit there and let them look. Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty washers. "So, I see you've been scanning ahead in the book," and I give a little nod. "AJ, you can talk here. You don't have to be shy." I can't help myself as my eyes scan the room again and I nod again. He swats down so he is eye level with me and begins to flip through the pages of my book. "How many times did you read this book just now?" Sixty-nine washers.
I hold up three fingers.
"Hmmm, do you think you've got it down?" And I answer him with a little nod.
"Wow, just like that, huh." I take a deep breath and wish for him to leave me alone. The class begins to whisper back and forth to each other, "Why is he here?" "There is no way he understands the stuff in that book." "There must be a mistake." Ninety-six, ninety-seven, ninety-nine, one hundred washers.
Mr. Wolde looks around the room as the other kids talk about me, making my face turn bright red. One hundred ten washers. `Why won't he leave me be,' I plead to myself?
"Well, why don't you come to the front of the class and let's introduce you to everyone?"
`No, no, no, no, why is this happening?' I think in horror.
I could hear the kid sitting behind me laughing at me. As I stand up and follow Mr. Wolde up to the front of the classroom, "Okay, let's hear it for AJ!" he says, and he begins to clap, and the other kids join in. Once we get up in front of everyone, I notice that I still have my washers in my hands. He leans down to me and whispers in my ear, "Did you want to hold on to those for a while?" To which I give him a shallow nod while I begin to freak out at all the eyes staring at me. One hundred, ninety-six, One hundred, ninety-seven, one hundred, ninety-eight, one hundred, ninety-nine washers.
"Okay, AJ, tell us about yourself..." He gives me an odd look and hurries to the back of the classroom, pulling all the attention to himself and off me, thankfully. Swatting down, he mutters, "Oh, this is no good," and then hurries back to the front next to me. Looking around, he points to his desk in the corner and, with one swift motion, he pushes all his items that were on the desk, off it on the floor making me jump. "There we go. Let's try this again." He moves behind me and before I knew it, he lifts me up in the air, placing me on the desk. Everyone begins to laugh. Now I'm the tallest thing in the room, even taller than he is. Two hundred and fifty-three, two hundred and fifty-four, two hundred and fifty-five, washers.
Okay, let's try this again. Class, this is AJ Docker. AJ, tell us where you are from?"
I look at him with horror in my eyes as I look for the best way down. Mr. Wolde sits on the desk next to where I'm standing and leans into me and whispers, "How about you tell me, and I'll tell them." Okay, this seems like a reasonable compromise. Two hundred, sixty-one washers.
Getting close to his ear, I whisper, "New York City."
"New York City, good." Some of the kids talk amongst themselves, and then Mr. Wolde speaks up, "What is your favorite thing about New York City?"
Leaning his ear to my mouth, I whisper, "Christmas."
"Christmas, all those lights and the huge tree in Times Square." The class begins to talk amongst themselves for a few seconds. Holding up his hand, the class quiets down, then he says, "Okay, we are going to throw the lesson plan out of the window for today and we are going to play a game with Mr. Docker here." He digs into his pocket and pulls out a piece of chalk, then hands it to me. Then he turns to look at the chalk board about six feet away, then to me, then back to the board, and says, "Hmmm, hold on, I can fix this." With a swift motion, he picks me up onto his hip and pushes the desk across the room to the chalkboard, making a terrible racket. The class responds by laughing and yelling at the sound. Even I let a giggle slip, and he notices. He smiles and winks at me, then puts me back on the desk. "So!" He says this so loudly that everyone becomes still. "What we are going to do is, you're going to raise your hand and I'll call on you. You will stand and introduce yourself to AJ, then pick a page from the textbook at random. AJ will write on the chalkboard the geometry problem that is on that page." My eyes about bugged out of my head. Three hundred and forty-six, three hundred and forty-seven, three hundred and forty-eight, three hundred and forty-nine washers. `He's got to be kidding!'
Mr. Wolde turns to me and tells me, just loud enough so I can hear him, "I knew your father. He used to talk about you all the time. You are a very special boy. Let's show them, okay. You've got this." Then, turning to the class, he said, "Who's first?" The class explodes with kids with their hands up, whooping and hollering to be called. There was a knock on the door, and the principal walks in, asking if she missed it. She seems a little put out that I'm standing on the teacher's desk, but she just takes a seat in the back of the room. Three hundred, fifty-nine, three hundred, sixty, three hundred, sixty-one, three hundred, sixty-two washers.
"I'm Tom Mattic." Tom picks up his book and shuffles through the pages until he lands on one he's satisfied with. "Page 153," he says, pretty proud of himself.
My eyes shift around the room at all the kids that are wondering how I am going to do this. Looking at Mr. Wolde, he nods his head and whispers, "You've got this."
I give him a little nod, close my eyes, and my mind shifts through the book until I get to page 153. Then, turning, I look at the chalkboard, take a deep breath, and begin to write. Mr. Wolde moves around me, watching over my shoulder, and reminds the room that I only received my geometry book a few minutes ago. Once I'm finished, I turn around and give the teacher a nod, so he asks Tom to come up and check my work.
Tom just stood by me for what seemed like the longest time. Four hundred and two, four hundred and three, four hundred and four washers. Then proclaims, "He's right! How did you do that?" And the class erupts in cheers. Mr. Wolde pats me on the back and gives me another wink.
"Okay, who's next?"
This went on for about twenty minutes, and when Mattie Styles stands up and introduces himself, he calls for page 72. My eyes shift around the room, trying to judge the room. The students seem to be on my side now. I don't feel as nervous, but I still wanted down and to hide somewhere. As the pages turn in my head, I freeze, and my bottom lip begins to quiver. Four hundred and twenty-seven, four hundred and twenty-eight, four hundred and twenty-nine washers. Mattie proclaims that, "I got him, he's stumped." Four hundred and thirty-three washers.
Mr. Wolde says, "Do you not know it, AJ?, because if not, it'll be okay. I mean, you haven't missed one yet?"
I wave him over and whisper in his ear, "What do I do if the book is wrong?"
This surprises him. He thinks about it, picks up his book off the floor, and finds page 72. Four hundred and forty washers. The boys were high-fiving Mattie, congratulating him on stumping me while I waited to hear what Mr. Wolde told me to do. Four hundred forty-six washers. Four hundred forty-nine washers. Four hundred, fifty-three washers. The principal came up next to the teacher, and the two of them began whispering back and forth.
"Well, I don't believe it," Mr. Wolde finally says. "AJ is right, the formula on page 72 is incorrect. It's a miss-print. Well done, AJ," then he starts clapping, the class joins him, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Once the clapping ends, Mr. Wolde asks the one question everyone is dying to know, "How did you do that?"
I wave him over so I can whisper in his ear, and he just tells me, I'll be fine, just say it loud and proud. Four hundred and fifty-six, four hundred and fifty-seven, four hundred and fifty-eight washers. I look around the room and the other kids are cheering me on until Mr. Wolde calms them down so I can speak. "I ummm..., I have something called a photographic memory," and from the desk I can tell by their faces that they are pretty confused. "I can look at something once or twice and then recall what it looked like down to the last period." This is met with whoops, hollering, and more cheering. While I was blushing, Mr. Wolde picked me up and set me on the floor. Squatting down, he tells me he is very proud of me, and I must be very brave to do that. I risk myself a smile and think, `He said I'm brave.'
Mr. Wolde spent most of the rest of the class picking up the stuff he knocked on the floor from his desk. The kids all talk to each other, and some even talk to me; I use head nods and shakes mostly to communicate. They all wanted me to show off again. Books, comics, and magazines all lay on my desk with requests to do it again.
The bell rings shortly after that. We all head to the door, and I am no different. Once I get through the door, I see the sea of students heading to their lockers or to the lunchroom. Taking a few steps to my right, my backpack is ripped off my back. Spinning around, I realize that Cut Bank, Montana is no different than New York City, New York.
"Let's see what you have in here?" Mocked the big boy that sat behind me. If I remember correctly, the name was Bobby Tons.
I try and get it back, but Bobby just holds it above my head and tells me, "Hey! The faster we go through it, the faster you get it back."
I stop jumping and his buddies laugh at me for being so small. Bobby opens it and pulls the top of the backpack apart to see Maxwell staring back at him. He breaks out in laughter and reaches for the bear. "NO!" I scream, and again I leap for the backpack, but this time I'm successful. Holding the backpack to my chest, Maxwell stares at me, giving me a thankful look as I run against traffic with the bullies hot on my heels.
Door after door, I look for somewhere to hide, until I find one that is open. I slip inside, turn off the lights, lock the door, and wait for those idiots to lose interest in me.